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PostPosted: Thu May 29, 2014 10:51 am 

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Rega remained still as she felt her face grow hot and tears welled in her eyes. She hugged her knees tightly, wanting the universe to just pass by and look over her existence, yet it didn't happen. Instead Jon approached and tried to console her. The sentiment was nice, but it barely put a dent in the depression she now felt.

"I'm sorry." he said. She sniffed, the sound coming out like a sort of squeak.

“I know how you feel... I've lost a lot of people such as the ship whose wreckage you probably found me in. Welcome to the ****ing war.” He spat that last line out with venom before going back to a solemn tone and nodding to the Elyandra. “That is my home... or rather I think of her as it but I doubt it will feel the same. I had to leave someone on there a long time ago... She was a pilot.”

Her headache grew and stress built up in the back of her head, neck and throat.

He forced a small sympathetic smile on his face and looked up to Rega, “Your man gave hope back to the people of that ship and with it another spark of hope to my dying species... and you both gave me at least a chance to see her again.”

Jon goes quiet for a a bit before standing back up and offering his hand to Rega. “I'm sure the captain of the Elyandra would like to talk to you have all that has happened... and staring at a screen is not going to help bring your friend back. I'm sure there are people on the Elyandra who miss him as well, better to share in the mourning than to suffer alone.”


Rega finally looked up and wiped her tears away. She looked up at his sympathetic smile and quietly nodded, taking his hand as he pulled her out of her chair.

She walked in a sort of trance, guiding him to the airlock that had docked with the Elyandra, on the way she had unconsciously grabbed a lab coat and a terminal was shoved into one of the large pockets over her thigh. She still wore her pistol, but she gave no thought about it as she pressed the button to open the door, forgetting she still even had it.

This time she let Jon lead as she had no idea about the layout of the Human ship, and she noticed one of Kit's drones had fallen in line behind her, it's white metal finish shining in the dimmed lights as many like it milled about the corridors attending to minor repairs and first aid. She walked cautiously, her hands in the pockets of her labcoat and tried not to let the Humans' stares faze her. Most stopped working and stood to stare as she passed. Some ducked away to hide, others put their hands on weapons. She didn't care at this point. Her mind was racing at trying to find a solution to getting Dren back, but the overwhelming futility hung over her like a thick, depressing fog.

The lift they were riding suddenly opened to the bridge and there were several people who were smiling when they saw Jon, but stared confused when Rega stepped out followed by the cylindrical drone hovering behind her.

"M-May I please speak to the Captain?" she asked, her voice was quiet but she tried to focus on the task at hand, her head now throbbing due to stress. Some on the Bridge pointed to a room off to the side and she crossed the bridge to press the button on the side of the door, thinking it was a door chime of some sort. She jumped when the door just opened and she was met with a blast of chatter and yelling.

“SHUT UP!!!” A man roared. Rega jumped as she stared wide eyed at a man sitting at the table slammed his fist down, making a bottle jump and leaving a dent in the metal surface. “I don't care your reasons and I don't care your pain. Just. Shut. The. ****. Up.”

The room went silent and they all suddenly turned to look at her. Rega pulled her labcoat tighter around her thin body.

"I'm sorry to interrupt." She said, "I am Rega Ganor. I'm the Captain of the Mauna Kea. I assume you want to speak with me?" she paused for a moment, slowly entering the room, "Oh, I have also found something that may belong to you. He calls himself Jon. He was very helpful in that awful battle. He says this is his home?" She stepped out of the way to let the man through, hoping that his homecoming would divert attention away from her. She was again distracted by her calculations and ideas for finding Dren as she backed up to lean against the wall while they caught up if needed. The drone settled in beside her and gently bobbed in the air.

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PostPosted: Sat Jun 07, 2014 11:40 pm 

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At Edwin’s voiced opinion, Angela’s actions stilled and the tension in the room nearly doubled. It already felt so oppressive that despite the cool and regulated air that was vented throughout the ship, the air felt thick and stifling.

“What did you say?” the question was punctuated by a thick snarl that was only just intelligible pass her fangs, such was her anger. “Care to repeat that?” this time with a growl as she turned to face him.

Edwin glanced up at Angela and glowered. If it wasn’t for the sharpness of her tone, what she said might have fallen on deaf ears, having still been deep in thought about everything that happened. There was an urge to shift his position and back off a little, but something deep within caused him to resist. It seemed as though she wanted to argue, and though it was utterly stupid, there was some part of him that would gladly take her up on that.

“You know damned well what I said.” He snapped, drawing himself up to his full height, his jaw set. However, he had not repeated his exact words. “And it’s true, isn’t it? If it wasn’t for them leading the Children to us, we wouldn’t be in this mess!


“You ****ing coward!” she snapped back and rounded on him to get in his face. “It was not HIS fault! None of this **** is his fault! Not his ****ing war and sure as hell not your ****ing place to say that it was his fault!” she nearly yelled in his face, though she managed to somehow resist the urge for the moment. “He saved us, just as surely as anyone else here in this room and because of that he is gone and you have no ****ing right to blame him or his friends for what happened,” at this point her tone was low and deadly ready to full on hit him should he mouth off again. As it was she was already in trouble and did not see a point in not voicing her opinions with her fists. There were tons of lacks of ****ing to give at this point and all she wanted was to save the one person who was the least responsible for this **** storm they were currently in.

Before anything could escalate to the next level, Jared had his own little outburst, Which, Angela was far from impressed with and was more than prepared to round on him next had the Neko not entered at that point. As it was the air in the room was so tense and strained that it was a wonder the whole of the room had not erupted into just one bloody brawl. Angela sure as hell would have enjoyed the chance to get at Edwin and another chance at Jared. However, before anything further could be said or even thought, a person Angela had not been expecting entered and she felt her heart stop.

No…it could not be….his ship had been….

Fractured thoughts filled her head about a man who should have been dead, but there he was standing right there before her. At that moment she was certain she was in the Captain’s ready room about to go ape **** on her fellow pilots, but now she was no longer sure. With how she was feeling now and with the sudden appearance of someone who should be dead, she began to wonder if she had died in that last fight. It would serve her right to be dead and would make sense given the shitty mech she had to use.

It was about this time, that Veronica entered with a datapad in hand. Her appearance seemed to get the world going again for Angela, but before she could react, before she could go to him like she wanted the Captain spoke up.

“Alright, enough of this bullshit,” her own datapad was sat down before her on the table, an eye taking in the damage that Jared had caused it. “You will be repairing that, somehow,” is all she said to him before she motioned for Veronica to join her and for Jon and Rega to sit down as well. “Now, what happened was not anyone’s fault, save for the Sons. They started this war and we have been fighting a literal battle for our survival as a species,” clear authority rang in her voice as she regarded those at the table. “This fight has not changed and it will not change until we eliminate them for the threat that they are!” this time her own fist was slammed down on the table, though it of course lacked the effect of the engineered pilot that was Jared.

Silence filled the room as they all took in the words of their Captain, taking them to heart and knowing them to be true. If they were going to win this battle, they had to stop fighting from within and focus back on the battle outside their walls.

“Now, let’s start thinking about how we are going to go on the offensive and get our friend back,” she looked to Veronica. “I know I am certainly tired of being on the defensive and would rather take a fight to them for a change, right?” the statement directed to those gathered at the table, “Veronica,” another nod and gesture for her to take over.

“Um, so we have been damaged rather severely, but it is not too bad that we will be down for long. Especially not with the supplies that we just got and if our new allies help us,” she looked to Rega before she then brought up a large display of the system they were in and the one they had just left. “Alright, so we know that Michael’s ship was jumped by Dren, though we don’t know to where exactly. If we went back to our original jump area, it might be possible to get a location from there,” she tapped some buttons on her pad and the display changed to show video of the last battle. “They seem to be trying to isolate us and break our formation, then hit the ship and hit it hard,” she explained as the various clips continued to change. “We need to work on tighter formations and operate in more than just teams of two. They are not better than us, but they have the numbers and the lack of care to preserve their own lives. As we know this makes them deadly and efficient. For the next attack I think if we went in stealth and tried to slip in on a smaller craft we could get them before they even notice we are there. Get to the ship that is holding Dren and free him before punching it and jumping to the nearest solar system before anyone even knows what hit them,” Veronica went on to explain.

“Anyone has anything they wish to add?” Captain Troy asked those gathered around. Right now they were all in desperate need for something to happen and she wanted more opinions on their next course of action.

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PostPosted: Mon Jun 16, 2014 11:40 am 
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Yet another pilot lost in that last dance. Canaan had seen this one too many times already. Friends, family, children, lovers... even oneself can be lost in times of war. This time around it was Dren, and he was not just any pilot. Most of Elyandra's crew (if not all) are in guilty mourning, trying to find justification for the actions that were taken in the last battle. To what end? Canaan questioned himself, wondering if there was any justification required at all. Dren chose to jump the enemy ship away to save Elyandra and the Mauna Kea; a heroic deed. Regardless, the pain of loss lingered heavily in the air, making it almost hard to stay in one spot. Canaan eyed the arguing crew, sighing to himself in his quiet little corner. Not that he didn't care about losing a comrade, he was just utterly exhausted from having to sortie over and over again while on the run. Who was he to complain though? This was what became of his life after this war broke out, he just had to suck it up like a man.

"Alright, enough of this bullshit..."

And so Elyandra's God had spoken; finally some peace and quiet! Canaan's attention shifted over to their Captain. As usual, it was an officer's duty to boost the morale of their troops especially in troubled times. She did so (minus the charismatic flair most high ranking officers had) with the proposal of a rescue operation. Canaan facepalmed after hearing the proposal. They had just narrowly escaped getting wrecked and now they want to go back out there and conduct a rescue op? Truly this is one of the reasons why humanity is so frail, the desire to save everyone. Yet this is also one of the reasons why humanity is so strong, the will to do everything it takes despite the dangers that lie ahead.

Canaan listened attentively to the details being discussed. As it stands, the rescue op is tentatively leaning towards a stealth op that could easily spiral down to a blitz op then take an ugly turn to a full blown conflict. Regardless of the chosen method, the primary objective remains the same, locate the enemy and rescue Dren. Personally, Canaan thinks that if they were going to go back out there looking for a fight, they might as well finish it rather than running away once the primary objective has been met. He chuckled almost quietly, suicidal missions is just another perk of being a pilot; the bionic arm and leg of his serving as a painful reminder.

Just as the discussion came to an end with the Captain asking for anyone else's opinion, Canaan heard a voice inside his head, it was Anubis talking to him again mentally through their shared Neural Link.

"Canaan, I do not understand the logic behind this plan." Anubis asked him with that digital female voice of hers.

The silver-haired man resisted the urge to chuckle like a psycho in his little corner. Even Anubis was trying to justify the grounds for this upcoming op! Nothing beats good old recklessness from stumping artificial intelligence. "Neither do I Annie." he answered and sipped the remaining black liquid in his cup.

"By my calculations, the sheer amount of Ether energy used by the Paladin to jump the enemy ship was of massive proportions. It is safe to assume that they overloaded their generator and would be at a near-inoperable state after such an ordeal," Anubis paused for a moment. "...it is also safe to say that they are at the mercy of the enemy after the jump."

Canaan smirked at his A.I.'s assumption. Though the others can't hear her, it was nice of her to consider the earlier emotions of those around him by not saying it is also safe to assume they're dead. Though Anubis' calculations are almost always correct, there's still a slight margin for error in them which is proof that one can never say what will exactly happen in the future unless they actually happen. Plausible error or so Anubis calls it. "What's your margin for plausible error this time?"

"Ten Percent."

Canaan's eyes widened a little. There was a ten percent margin for error? It was surprisingly huge considering Dren jumped with the enemy alone. "So that means there's a fifteen percent chance they got away safely? What about the chances they'd be caught and imprisoned?"

"Forty Percent."

"The remaining Fifty would be the probability of them getting killed..." Canaan trailed off, feeling a little better now about helping to conduct the earlier proposed rescue op. "What's your basis for them being held captive Annie?"

"Information on Elyandra."

"I see. Annie, what are your thoughts about this proposal for a rescue operation given the details we've just heard?" Canaan inquired and moments later, Anubis shared her opinion with him.

Canaan inhaled sharply. It was not everyday that he voices out his and Anubis' opinion to the others of this ship but he trusted Anubis. Standing up from where he was sitting, Canaan made his way to the congregation of pilots and officers in the middle of the room and squeezed himself through. Several pairs of eyes trailed him and watched him raise his hand. After making sure he caught the attention of Captain Troy, Canaan took a step forward.

"Captain, if we are to perform a rescue operation, I suggest we move as soon as we are able. My suggestion would be for us to split into two groups, one for diversion and the other will conduct the extraction."

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PostPosted: Tue Jun 17, 2014 3:47 am 
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"J give me a damage report on Jasper." Radulf reached up to his helmet and and unhooked it, a low hissing sound filled the cabin as his suit decompressed. Pulling the helmet off his head Radulf set it on the floor in between his feet. Taking a deep breath he pulled a small ear piece out of his pocket and slipped the ear piece over the back of his ear J's voice starting up almost as soon as he took his hand away.

"It seems that the thrusters, elbow joints, and exhaust system will need work. But nothing is in too bad of shape. The engine will need to have a few minor parts replaced luckily we didn't have to run it very hard for very long or the results would have been catastrophic." Radulf sighed and pressed a button on the side of his **** pit and waited as the hatch slowly opened. AS the Hatch opened bright light from the docking bay flooded into the cockpit nearly blinding Radulf as he closed his eyes and held a hand up to shield him.

"J send a message to the bridge I would like to speak with the captain at her earliest convenience." Radulf opened his eyes blinking at the unwanted light, the downside to being in space so long is you got used to the dark.

"I will send the message at once." Radulf yawned as he unbuckled his harness and stood up stretching his arms above his head. Reaching out a hand Radulf grabbed onto the side of the hatch and slowly climbed down from his mech. With his feet on the ground Radulf took some time to fully stretch out his body for the first time in weeks. He new a few exercises that prevent muscle degradation on long journeys but nothing beat a full range stretch in his opinion. Radulf walked over to the storage container it was ten feet tall, fifteen feet wide and twenty feet long. Walking around to the front of the container Radulf frowned as he looked upon his tugboat. The small ship was smoking and small sparks were shooting out of the engine at random intervals.

"Well I doubt this is gonna be easy to fix." Radulf said with a cringe as another jet of sparks shot out.

"Well the main thrusters are shot but the stabilizing thrusters are still in good condition." J chimed in as Radulf looked at the smoking ship. Letting out a groan he turned towards the container and walked over to the keypad. Entering in the six digit code Radulf stepped back as the container doors unlocked with a thunk. Walking over to the seam of the double doors Radulf pulled on one side and slowly opened it. Looking inside Radulf grinned as he surveyed the inside of the container everything seemed to be in good condition a few boxes were off the shelves but other than that nothing was damaged.


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PostPosted: Wed Jun 18, 2014 11:07 am 
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A few angry rants and a dented table later, and it finally seemed as if the pilot complement of the Elyandra were starting to come down off their adrenaline high of combat. People were listening, talking, planning. Canaan had even put forward a decent one. Simple, yet effective. But all missing one simple thing. And Thomas Brett felt it would do a disservice to his crewmates if he didn't say so.

"Canaan, as beautiful and simple as that plan might be, it just ain't gonna work. The Children don't want us pilots or our mechs. Killing us is just a bonus to them. What they want is the Elyandra, to kill her properly this time." He shook his head sadly.

"The straight fact is that they won't go for anything unless it leads them to this ship, no matter their fanaticism. The only way to get them to believe and fall for a diversion is to give them that. And I hate to play the Devil's Advocate but, is that kind of risk worth one pilot?" Thomas glanced around at the others, looking for those telltale signs of accord or discord, the small clues that said either "I agree" or "I am going to kill you". Either one was equally possible at this point.

He locked eyes in turn with all the others, one by one. The stare said the same thing. 'Is this worth it? Is this what you want?'. The looks he got in return told him all he needed to know.

"I was only saying. But we need to figure our **** out here before anything else goes haywire. I think we can all agree on that."

______________________________________________________________________________________

They started with thirty-six. One platoon's worth of some of the craziest bastards and ****ing humanity had ever coughed up. And now? Seven gone, just like that.

Jacqueline, Jack as she preferred to be known, was no stranger to combat. But to watch friends suffer the fate that had befallen them not an hour before... It was almost too much. The Elyandra's Marine contingent had been found by battle fighting fires and hastily patching hull breaches, working alongside other crew in a desperate attempt to prevent the ship from coming apart under fire. When the fighting intensified, they had been forced to moved to the exterior hull, clipped in place by zee-gee harnesses, firing HAMMER missiles and Plasma Launchers at the passing hostile mechs. Two Marines had been killed by enemy fire. One had been lost to space when his tether broke. But worst of all, was one they could not fight. The cold.

Their MCA armour had never been designed to be exposed to space for that long. The four remaining fatalities had been Marines who froze inside their armour. A long and horrible way to go, almost as bad as being lost to space, except others could see your suffering. Her own pain was impossible, frighteningly bad. But she had survived none the worse for wear. As had most of the others. But it wasn't all sunshine and roses.

The caskets containing the four dead Marines, now thawed, were lined up neatly in the hangar, settled on folding benches. The remainder of them sat and stood around, in solemn silence and vary states of undress. Eventually, they began to filter away, looking for something to occupy their thoughts other than dead friends. For Jack, it was off to the mess hall, "canteen" as the swabbies called it. She needed something to settle her stomach, even if it was just a cup of something hot.

Five minutes later saw her there, a scalding cup of tea and a sullen expression her only companions. This was going to be a long day, a long time to wait before she could show those Children exactly what the Gate's of Hell looked like.


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PostPosted: Sun Jun 29, 2014 3:56 pm 

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The two pilots who had spoken up and had valid points, Thomas especially for he hit the nail right on the head and brought to light the biggest question of the hour

Was this worth it?

The captain looked as if she might speak, but Angela beat her to it. This time she was far more calm and collected.

“To me, each and every single life on this ship is worth my own. The women, the men and even the child or two we have managed to have while on this mission. Each and every single one of them is worth it to me and much more,” she spared a moment to look at each of them in turn, though her eyes lingered the longest on Jon. “I know that every time I leave this ship I may die, I accept that and don’t hesitate to launch into space knowing that it may be my last time…” another pause as she looked to Rega. “You and your people did not ask for this, Dren did not sign up for this and though we only just knew him for a short time he gave his all of this ship. With that same hesitation and determination, even though we are not his people,” she smiled, a sad smile but one regardless.

“We don’t even know if he is still alive, but if there is a chance, just the smallest chance I think we owe it to him to look for him. To try and save him like he saved us. He sacrificed himself for us, strangers essentially, to aid us in war that should not even be happening and yet here we are…” again eyes roamed about the room to look at those gathered. The officers who went out every time the call was made and acted with the same bravery and selflessness that Dren had done. Each of them had fought knowing that they could die and still went out every time without hesitation. “Even if he is dead I am tired of running from them and want to take the fight to them for a change. Make them hurt and cripple their numbers. But, that is just me and I don’t think it is fair to endanger the whole of the ship because this is something that I want. The people of this ship have as much a right to voice what they want as any of us. So, we should ask them too what it is that they want to do…”her piece said she just leaned back in the chair and waited to see what the others had to say on the matter.

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Rescue had come and the group was quick to apprehend the alien their brave leader had managed to catch on his own. Already, he was being hailed as the true son of God, the savior and a prophet. Again, he had managed to survive certain death and even managed to capture one of the enemy mechs, an alien craft at that. Michael was on cloud nine, at the height of his power and he could not wait to get more.

First thing was first though; he had to interrogate his prisoner. “Is he awake yet?”

When he had been dragged from his mech, he had been roughed up a bit and had to be “sedated” before they could get a handle on him.

“Yes, sir. The prisoner is ready for you,” said his new second in command. “Excellent, let’s see what this alien creature has to say, shall we?”

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PostPosted: Wed Jul 23, 2014 2:40 pm 
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"Hmph."

Canaan couldn't believe he just heard that. Was it worth it? Did that question even need to be asked? What separates them from those children bastards are their humanity. If they discard that, then they would be no different from those heartless monstrosities. Still, Canaan knew that his military career was nothing compared to majority of those in this ship. Short as it may be, it was also dangerously enlightening. Decisions like these were not really something he had to deal with on an everyday basis and he knew that some of the others are just looking at the bigger picture. Yeah, look hard, they have all the reason they need to do so. At least don't get so lost in it and start forgetting the little things that actually matter. If they can't save a single life, human or not, then they don't qualify to be humanity's last hope, savior, or whatever the hell they are right now.

"If it's decided, I'll be in the hangar tuning Anubis for the next mission."

Ignoring the "I don't need tuning." from Annie inside his head, Canaan excused himself from the group. Had Angela not said anything, he doubted he would have been able to keep his cool and started arguing. That was the last thing they need in their group right now, infighting. As he made his way out of that stifling meeting, Canaan's thoughts began to wander. Battle fatigue was starting to get to majority of the Elyandra's crew. Even the Captain wanted to turn around and give those children a taste of their own medicine. One way or the other, people are getting tired of running. Just how long would they have to keep this up? How many more comrades in arms would have to fall before this ends? Does he have the strength to see things through to the end? Will he even make it there? The answers to his questions were in the dark. Nothing mattered at this point but the next mission. He had to focus.

"Are you alright Canaan? The balance of your emotional state shifted."

Making sure there's nobody around, Canaan spoke. "I'm fine. Just a little tired." he never really gotten used to Annie getting stuck inside his head the moment he had to jump inside the ETCF and started fighting for his life. Up until now, it still felt weird to him if he had to talk to Annie inside his head without using his voice.

"Your physical condition is fine. Your cybernetic parts are working at 100% capacity. Yet you claim to be tired? I don't understand."

Canaan chuckled. "Tired isn't limited to the physical realm Annie." Shaking his head sideways, Canaan inputed the access code to the hangar on the side terminal. The metal doors slid open and the pilot casually walked in. Three steps into the hangar and he stopped, closed his eyes and listened to the sounds. It felt like home to him. All that hustle and bustle of people working on mechs, this was the next closest thing he has to home apart from that one man cabin designated for his use.

"I finally understand Canaan. You are mentally fatigued, hence the reason for the shift in your emotional state."

Annie's digital voice broke him out of his silent reverie. "That's a fair diagnosis." he mumbled and made his way over to section B of the hangar. "I can provide comfort for you in my cockpit. My life support systems can ease your fatigue." the A.I. offered. The chuckle Canaan had earlier turned to laughter. "It would have been nice if you were a real woman." he scratched his head as he stared at the giant humanoid mech before him. "Then again, the real women freak out when they see what's under my hood." he continued laughing.

"You don't have a hood."

Canaan's laugh fell to a sigh. This artificial intelligence was but an infant, only as old as the day that the two of them integrated. Annie has much to learn. "I meant my cybernetic arm and leg Annie. The real women are not used to seeing a man like me... nor would they want to." he informed the A.I. and boarded the lift that will take him up to the cockpit. "I am always happy to see you Canaan." with that said, the frame's head slowly bowed, eyes glowing a faint green as if looking at Canaan coming up to the cockpit. A few restraining cables got snapped in the process. Shortly after, a couple screams of warning pierced the hangar atmosphere.

"Woah, woah! I get it Annie, I get it! You don't have to make the Anubis' head move! That's dangerous!"

"My apologies Canaan."

"Sorry guys! She just got excited to see me! I'll clean up the mess later!" Canaan yelled down below to the angry crewmen. He then turned to his mech with a sharp look in his eyes. "Don't do that again. You're gonna hand my head over to the hangar chief! Geez."

"Hangar Protocols rewritten. It won't happen again Canaan."

The man then jumped inside the cockpit and made himself comfortable. He had no plans of resting in his room this time. If they have to sortie, he would be the first one out. "We're going on standby. Wake me up if the bridge gives a green light for the rescue mission."

"Affirmative."

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PostPosted: Sat Aug 02, 2014 6:08 am 

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The argument between Edwin and Angela had been cut short when Jared, Jon, and a yet another, a Nekan, presumably the captain of the ship that aided in their escape entered the room. It was a good thing that they had gotten down to business when they did. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from making a remark, his nostrils flaring. Things would have gotten ugly.

When the captain began to speak, his eyes were glued to the screens, particularly the battle footage. He wished that they hadn’t been reminded they had escaped by the skin of their teeth. Now that he was watching it from a different view, it was unsettling.

“No… nothing to add…” Edwin muttered. He was just done at this point. He was both physically and mentally exhausted at the rest of them, wanting nothing more than to crawl into bed. He just wanted to sleep for a few hours, maybe get a decent meal in, before heading off into battle again. But no, that was not how things worked during times of war. He knew this perfectly well but he still could not help his wishful thinking. It would be nice if they could catch a break and rest a little for once.

As he listened to what everyone had to say, it would be a lie if he said he wasn’t thinking the same thing. Was this worth it? They had just come back from battle, and narrowly escaped at that, he was a little frustrated that they were being sent out again. As determined as he was to fight to the bitter end, there comes a point where one really begins to stop and thing. What were they fighting for? Was this all just pointless fighting, a battle that will never cease, or would they actually be rewarded in the end?

He hoped it was the latter; he didn’t want to believe that he was doing this all in vain.

“She does have a point. Let’s take the fight to them for a change. That is all…” Edwin murmured, paused, and then added, “’Suppose I’ll head down and prepare as well. Phoenix suffered some pretty heavy damage in the last two battles…” He glanced at Canaan as he was leaving the room. The guy had a good idea, heading down to tune his mech. As stated, Phoenix needed it badly; he’d better get on it. He had a lot more he wanted to say, but he just didn’t have the energy to back any argument he might have. What right did a soldier have arguing back anyway? He was just there to throw his life away for the good of humanity, to get even. That was all.

“Underdog, status report on Phoenix,” He said once he was out of the bridge. “Is it able to be launched into combat again?”

Negative, Edwin, Phoenix’s state is still critical. It’s hardly been touched by the mechanics. I had warned you about going out before. If you were to go out in Phoenix again, chances of survival would be twenty percent.

Edwin clenched his jaw, “Are the weapon systems, shields, and wings functional at least?”

Nagative. The wings were heavily damaged, and shield output is only ten percent at this time. Left arm is still out of commission as well. As for the weapon systems, you might be in luck…

“Great… Alright, I guess I’ll see what I can do before we launch. If not, oh well, I tried.”

I don’t support that decision.

“I know you don’t. Unfortunately, I don’t have a choice. Besides, the way I see it, I either come back alive or I don’t know matter what the percentages are.”

What Underdog said next could not have been more true, But… either way, you don’t want to go out, do you?

Edwin thought about it for a long time. He really didn’t want to go out again, but on the other hand… maybe this was a chance to end it once and for all. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, that thought was enough to keep him motivated. He would gladly go back and search for the Children just for the chance to slaughter a few more. Maybe it was because of his skepticism. Yeah, maybe that was it. He really wasn’t sure, but it was something, so he decided to just go with that.

“No,” he said, sighing heavily, “I don’t. But I have to. I signed myself up for this.” When he heard nothing back from Underdog, he actually felt somewhat relieved. He was already practically dragging himself back out onto the field. The last thing he needed was for Underdog to give him ****, especially after the briefing.

When he got down to the bay, he immediately grabbed a few tools, ignoring the mechanics’ protests, as well as Underdog’s, and set to work.

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PostPosted: Wed Aug 13, 2014 10:41 am 

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Dren woke slowly. The pain all over was bearable, yet extremely annoying. His senses slowly started to sharpen, realizing that he had been strapped to a table, yet in a near vertical position, with his arms retrained in a raised position. He struggled to lift his head and saw a table nearby with his armor laid out on it, the power cell removed and placed beside it, and his translator amulet on the table as well, leaving him next to naked, save for the pair of skin tight shorts to save his dignity.

How did this happen? It took a moment then he remembered. The Paladin was brought aboard one of their ships and with the power out in the cockpit, it only took the Humans moments to release the hatch from the outside by force. There was a bright flash that confused him for a moment and he was yanked out of the cockpit. When his suit detected the atmosphere of their ship and was detached from the cockpit, the smart metal around his fur retracted into the main parts of the suit, and he was promptly drugged by a projectile dart, but not before receiving a beating while he was restrained.

His head hung in the darkness and a bright light snapped on above his head, casting odd shadows around the room. He heard someone breathing in the darkness of the shadows and lifted his head to try and squint through swollen eyes. These were the enemies of the Mankind people. Fanatics as he was told. He had no idea what was in store for him and he was worried, mostly for what they would do to his Mech, and Yuri inside.

"[Who are you?]" he coughed, his translator amulet too far away to work, "[What do you want of me?]" There was a slight chirp from the amulet on the table and it flashed white for a moment, then went dim once more.


Michael and his new second in command, a man he had yet to bother to learn the name of. When Dren blabbered off in some other language Michael took it as an opportunity to further his own agenda.

"Look at it...speaking in tongues! A vile being that is trying to corrupt us with his blasphemous words!" he gestured toward Dren and those who were there in the room gasped sharply before they fell into a hushed whisper and waited for what was to come next.

"Speak to us and stop trying to corrupt us with your words of hate and malice!" he practically commanded of poor Dren as he laid there strapped to the table.


Again the translator amulet lit up on the table, yet the man's words before Dren went misunderstood. Dren sighed and opened his hand to point at the device on the table, wracking his brain for the right word. He could hear the Mankinds language at times though the translations and tried to remember the word they used for what he needed.

"Am-you-let" he wheezed, "Trans-late" he twisted his wrist to point to his own neck, but it was awkward and he was unsure if the man understood. Again his mind slowly started to sharpen, yet as the sedative wore off more and more, the pain returned to replace it. His sides started burning and he realized he was bruised and cut in a few places.


The man with Michael looked from their captive to where he pointed on the table. Eyes on the amulet as it flashed whenever words were spoken.

"Sir?" he spoke up meekly and held up the amulet. "I think he needs...this..." the hesitation clear in his voice and actions as he handed over the amulet.

For a long while Michael looked from the amulet to his fellow man, before he finally slipped it over the neck of the prisoner. "Now...speak. Tell me of your people, your technology and your secrets. Tell me of their secrets, about their ship..." he reached for an item that was behind Dren on another table, obscuring his view of it. "I know what you are," he whispered in his ear. "Monster..." the word was practically spat out at him before a sudden and sharp jolt of pain coursed through his body. "Unclean..." another jolt of pain. "Demon..." the pain this time lasted a little longer, just so that Micheal could watch the look of pain on his face.

"Now...tell me what you know!"


Dren squeezed his eyes shut trying to bear the pain of the torture, with each jolt his anger rising and his distaste for this man increasing. He dared to look and his blurred vision through the tear-soaked fur around his eyes seemed red as he guessed a blood vessel had ruptured in one eye. He panted, trying to compose himself, but he could feel his fur start to stand on end from the electrical buildup. He was trained in the military about torture, but his own people wouldn't put him through it so that he could learn what it was like. This was near unbearable. He finally understood how someone could crack under conditions like this.

"I am... a member... of the Nekan….Space….Force…." Dren panted, "I am not…. From this galaxy...I….come from….far...away…" Dren swallowed and coughed blood onto his chin, "The Mankinds I was with …. Are no threat...I...don't understand….why you fight." Dren took a breath and lifted his head, "What sort of belief would make you turn on your own kind?"


Michael laughed and pulled his mask back so that Dren could see the large burn scar on the side of his face, "My belief is the one and only truth faith," he said simply. "It is my faith that will see us all into the next life, a life of bliss and reward for all the sacrifices we have endured," he grinned and the way it reached his eyes was unsettling. "By the time I am done with you, either you will repentant your sins, or you will break to our will. But, I will get what I want and need from you, starting with everything you know about the Elyandra and her crew. And I mean everything..." a look came to his eyes and the pain returned to Dren as Michael reapplied the device to his back.


-----------------------------------------------------

Rega remained silent as the room argued and it was one Human woman that spoke the most highly of Dren that caught her attention. She was slowly gaining insight into the situation on this side of the Galaxy where a real war was taking place over what she assumed was beliefs in religion. She really did feel disjointed from the situation and her sole focus was only to rescue Dren, but the desperation in their voices was evident and she felt a sort of obligation to help these people. Perhaps this was what Dren felt as well.

"Um, I would like to say that I appreciate your concern for my friend. He must have made a significant impact to your cause while he was here. I appreciate any help in getting him back safely and will offer any of my resources to help as well. I have Kit, my AI controlling many repair drones outside your ship to repair any damage they can find and there are several drones like this one patrolling the corridors of your ship offering medical attention. My medical bay is also open for anyone needing it and the interfaces can be changed to your language for better use." She said quietly, although her face was void of emotion spare for obvious depression.

"[Captain, is that wise?]" Kit interrupted, "[Allowing unrestricted access to the Mauna Kea?]"

"Kit, please don't be rude. Speak their language." Rega said.

"My Apologies, however, I don't think it to be wise to let these people we have just met roam the ship by themselves!" he insisted. The drone he was speaking from bobbed in the air, "How can you trust them so easily?"

"I trust them because Dren does!" She snapped, grabbing the drone by it's sides and lifting the occular sensor to her own face, "How can you say such a thing to the people who have graciously given safe harbor to Dren?!"

"I am sorry, Captain." Kit said flatly, "I do not have the emotional connection to Pilot Falon as you do. I am only thinking logically as my programming dictates." Rega blushed, the fur on her cheeks standing on end. She dropped the drone and it made a dull clunk on the floor as the antigravity propulsion system kicked in at the last minute to barely make contact with the floor.

"Let's keep on topic shall we?" Rega flatly said, "We need to find Dren."

"Yes. We will need a method to track him." Kit replied. There was a long silence as the room stared at her, yet she was deep in thought. Then for the first time since she came aboard the Elyandra, Rega smiled and her face lit up.


"The Beacon!" she exclaimed, "When we sent the Prototype with Dren from Nekan space, we were going to try and track it with a beacon! It should still be active. Even if the whole mech is powered down, this would have it's own power source!" She turned to the Captain at the end of the long table, "Captain, I believe I will be able to find Dren, but getting to him undetected would require a co-operative plan."

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PostPosted: Thu Aug 28, 2014 1:04 pm 

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Troy sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, when two pilots walked out she made a mental note to teach them how to wait until they were dismissed. Perhaps a couple of weeks in the kitchen peeling potatoes will teach the two of them to adhere to proper ship protocol. She thought bitterly, more than a little annoyed that they would leave like that. Sure, this was not the most formal of ships, but darnit, when she held a ****ing meeting they were expected to attend and wait to be dismissed.

Anger rolled over her form and for a while she just sat there while she listened to the alien speak. Though, the fact that she was so willing to help made her even more annoyed at her own crew. Maybe some weeks scrubbing the outer hull of the ship too? That may be just enough of a punishment for them.

Stress and the weight of responsibility that came from being in command of such a ship had started to wear on the weary Captain. Right now, what she wanted to do was return to her quarters, have a mug of hot chocolate and just forget for a moment that they were not there. Not in this piece of hell fighting for everything they had and for what? A chance? A small chance to maybe, just maybe get a second chance where they had squandered their first, this was why they did it.

But was it enough?

The cool steel of the table offered a measure of comfort to the heat that seemed to radiate with her rage. It was Veronica’s hand on her arm that drew her from wherever her mind had taken her. A small smile in her direction, before her eyes returned to the datapad before her. It all looked like nothing but a bunch of numbers and symbols at this point. The greens, yellows and so many reds flashed at her from the small screen almost in a silent taunt that she longed to silence with just a throw against the nearest wall. However, she was the Captain and captains could not lose their cool. They could not break down in front of their crew. That was to be saved for their own time, their private time.

“Thank you for your offered assistance and sorry for my earlier comment, it was during the heat of battle but still I do apologize,” she sighed and buried her face in her hands for a moment, before she raked her fingers back through her hair. “How long are the repairs going to take?” she asked Veronica.

“Roughly a week,” the navigation officer said after she consulted her pad. “That is with the help of the Nekans and if we all switch to sixteen hour shifts,” she said with a sigh of her own.

“Ok, so with everything as it is now. We will tend to the wounded first, and then we will hold a memorial service for those that we lost. After that, we can start on the repairs and taking count of all the supplies that we have. I think we got an emergency shipment in just before we jumped. I don’t know if that will be enough, but it will have to be enough for now…” a pause with another sigh. “We are going to have to come up with a plan for attacking them and rescuing Dren. Even if he may be…dead, I am tired, so very tired of just running from them. We are not going to run anymore. We are going to take the fight to them and we are going to show them that humans are not going to just roll over and die. We are going to fight until there are no more, because we weren’t meant to just die. God would not have just placed us on the world to die. That does not sound like a God who would have taken the time to make us in his image, does it?”

It was not a question she truly expected to get an answer from, but it was just something she had to get off her chest. “This debriefing is over, everyone is dismissed. I’ll be in my quarters if anyone needs me.” she stood and gathered her data pad and left them all to leave at their own pace.

Veronica went to Jared, “Come on.” Her voice soft and loving as she placed her hand on his shoulder.

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Angela waited for Jon, “There is so much that I want to say to you…”

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PostPosted: Sat Aug 30, 2014 3:46 pm 
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"..naan.."

"Ca...an.."

"Canaan."


That digital voice inside his head pilfered him of what little downtime he had unconsciously, but gratefully found for himself. Canaan's eyes slowly opened, blinking quite a few times to clear his vision of Anubis' cockpit. He had fallen asleep, even though he said he will not grow tired, his body, though nearly half machine, still required some sleep. Canaan stretched out as best he could inside the small space, trying to iron out the uncomfortable kinks he got from sleeping inside his mech.

"How long was I out?" he grudgingly asked his A.I. companion.

"Two hours, forty-six minutes and twenty-fou--"

"Aaaargggh!" the pilot interrupted Annie's calculation. "I wish it would have been longer." he complained. Two hours and some change, that was the most time he had gotten for himself. He knew that the moment he steps out of his mech's cockpit, he was to resume his duties in this tired battleship; it made waking up all the more excruciatingly painful.

"I intercepted a priority mandate being cascaded through the ship's systems. It would seem you are to be assigned to hull scrubbing and possibly repair duties. The mandate reads, Disciplinary Action."

"What?!" the surprise effectively jolted the last bits of sleep lingering in his system, more so than coffee. He was a pilot for crying out loud! Originally a civilian pilot risking his own ass out there every time they get attacked! He didn't sign up for any of this ****; it wasn't his choice! Then again, with how things went down when all these started, choices have already been predetermined for a great many, and he was no exception. Why start complaining now? This was the Captain's way of showing and maintaining order. Without it, the remnants of humanity will crumble away without a doubt. Canaan didn't want that. If Captain Troy wants to continue playing Elyandra's god, he would not deny her the satisfaction, as long as he is under her not so tender loving care.

He may be a civilian before, but none of that matters now after he was forcefully assigned to this ship near the end of the moon base incident. To the eyes of this ship's crew, he was one of them, not a shirt button less.

"Military protocols state that when you are being briefed..."

"Annie, don't go there. Just... don't okay?" he was not about to take a lecture about military protocols from the only person--only friend--he had in this hellhole. "What of their gung-ho rescue op? What happened to that?"

"It was put on hold until further notice. Priority had been diverted to ship repairs and medical needs of the crew."

"Tch... figures." he spat in mild distaste. "All that talk about rescuing someone and here we are, taking our sweet time in doing it."

Right about now, more than anything, he wished for the peaceful times they had so painfully taken for granted. Those times where they didn't have to go through all this trouble. Canaan fell to silence, oblivious to the rowdy noise of the hangar working nonstop.

"I do not recognize this emotional pattern you are displaying Canaan. What is this?"

How could she? Machines, for all intents and purposes were originally designed as tools. They were not meant to have emotion, just built to carry out their intended function without complaint. That was their role before, and that will still be their role now in things to come. Still, why does this... why does Annie hold so much interest in emotional patterns? Perhaps... she was different? The first of her kind maybe? The notion started to make Canaan feel silly and uneasy. With a familiar stroke of keys in the dash, Canaan opened the cockpit. "Do you keep a log of these things? Don't worry about it Annie, I'm fine. If you must know what emotion that is, it's called regret." He informed the A.I. and jumped out of the cockpit. He turned around and paused to take a good look at the Anubis. They have come a long way to get here, and they still have a longer way to go.

"Lock yourself up nice and tight. Don't let any of this ship's mechanics lay a hand on you. I don't want them getting as much of a glimpse on your tech."

"Affirmative. Initiating lock-down protocol."

"Oh and... try not to get caught when you're trolling this ship's systems okay? I don't want any more DA's being charged on me. You got that?"

"Roger that Canaan."

"And lastly, I could use some privacy. Could you stay out of my head unless it's absolutely necessary to make contact?"

"....."

It took a while for her to respond, making Canaan feel bad for asking such a thing. Still, he could really use some alone time. "Annie? Did you hear me?"

"Yes. Disengaging Neural Link in 5...4...3...2...1... Disengage."

There was a slightly disorienting feeling in his head, like a string had been pulled out of his brain when their Neural Link was turned off. "Oh man... I'll never get used to that." he grumbled, rubbing his temples as he turned around. "Okay, guess it's time to face judgment with a scrub and bucket!"


Inside the Anubis' cockpit, the screen on the dash glowed to life. On it, words began to fill the screen...

Regret - a feeling of sadness, repentance, or disappointment over something that has happened or had been done.

Associated with: remorse, sorrow, contrition, repentance, penitence, guilt, ruefulness

Logging to database...
Adjusting Protocols...
...OK.

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PostPosted: Sat Sep 06, 2014 2:58 am 

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Saul had spoken with the female mechanic for some time, the conversation was pleasant if frustrating at times. Her faith was weak, but he felt that she would see the light in his words and return for another discussion. She excused herself and handed the guard the bible she brought with her, in turn the man gave it to Saul through a slot in his cell. Content to have his keepsake once again, he sat against the bed and opened to read from the beginning of Psalms.

Blessed is the one
who does not walk in step with the wicked
or stand in the way that sinners take
or sit in the company of mockers,
2 but whose delight is in the law of the Lord,
and who meditates on his law day and night.
3 That person is like a tree planted by streams of water,
which yields its fruit in season
and whose leaf does not wither—
whatever they do prospers.
4 Not so the wicked!
They are like chaff
that the wind blows away.
5 Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment,
nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous.
6 For the Lord watches over the way of the righteous,
but the way of the wicked leads to destruction.


The sharp wails of a klaxon alarm broke into his concentration, it appears that this vessel was under attack again, and from the sound of it Michael and his holy fleet had arrived to exact judgment upon these sinners and malcontents. Destruction was almost assured, the fleet had enough firepower to crack the earth into great chunks of debris. He chuckled to himself.

"So, this is the day I meet my Lord in heaven"

Setting the bible onto his bunk, he moved to one knee on the cold, metallic floor and prayed. He prayed for himself, recounting his past deeds and honors in serving the great God above. Then he prayed for his brothers out in the fight, that soon their holy mission would come to an end and all will behold the might of heaven. Pausing for just a moment, he also prayed for the souls on the Elyandra, that even though their minds and hearts were filled with sin and heresy that they would be judged fairly. Standing up, he took a few steps towards the force field that kept him inside and waited for salvation.

Low rumble filled his ears, with Elyandra's hyperdrive spooling up and with a final shutter they hit super luminal speeds. It appeared he would live to see another day.

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PostPosted: Thu Sep 11, 2014 8:14 pm 
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Jared almost snapped at the Captain when she called them to settle down and target him over damaging her table but to his credit he did not let his rage slip. He fumed inside his head for a few seconds over what she could be talking about before his eyes finally looked to where his arm had impacted the table. He was stunned by the fact that not only dented the table significantly, but had done it without realizing it. Sure he had the strength to do it with the modifications... but to not realize he was exerting more force than he should, even in that moment, worried him.

He spent the majority of the meeting inside his own head trying to comprehend what was happening with him, the headaches (or more accurately now migraines) were one thing but the building/almost uncontrollable rage was something else entirely. If he had been paying attention he probably would have chewed out the other pilots for just up and leaving before the meeting was over but his whole focus was on his hand. The offending hand that had slammed down on the table with such force to nearly break it, all without him knowing.

Veronica's hand on his shoulder brought him out of his mental cage of foreboding and making him realize the meeting was over, numbly getting to his feet and going through the motions of being dismissed. Out in the hall, Jared shuffled along in silent contemplation beside Veronica. His movements were heavy and slow, weighed down by his dread and the slowly returning migraine pounding at his head.

Finally the returning migraine became too much and he stopped to rest his head against a cool metal panel. Veronica was there, of course, caring and expressing her concern for him but Jared ignored them and let a question slip from his lips. “Do you know how the other pilots in my program are doing?” Was all he said quietly. It was the only thing he could think of that could be the matter. He was snappy in a feral way and he had to constantly focus to keep his thoughts clear... he had all ready gone of the rail twice recently. It had to be his modifications... he had too much of a future now to be depressed especially with Veronica beside him.


*

This was not the Elyandra Jon had left behind; everyone looked tired, worn, and stressed more so then he could ever really recall... Jared especially looked like **** and his temper definitely shorter... unless you count when he was suffering from depression but Jon thought he had gotten better after hooking up with Veronica. Angela was a surprise, having not seen her mech in the battle he had assumed the worst but evidently his worry was unfounded... whether it was a good surprise or a bad one remained to be seen.

Despite (or perhaps because of) the increase stress, it seemed like discipline had broken down on the ship since he was last here and he bit his tongue as people kept suggesting rescue plans. Everyone who offered ideas, even somewhat basic ones, was missing one critical piece to the whole plan: they had no idea where Dren was. Once they knew where he was and at least a basic understanding of the defenses then the planning could really start. Until that point everything else was just hopeful imaginings.

When the Captain dismissed everyone, Jon thought about going to her about reporting back for duty especially after all the damage the ship took but he decided against it. She looked like she needed a breather after the lack of respect the pilots showed, and admittedly he probably needed to get cleared by medical before he could do anything. The repairs would not start in earnest until after the memorial anyway so he had some time before he would start feeling left out of piecing together a ship he cared for for so long... which reminded him.

“Rega?” He said with a bit of concern to the alien engineer/scientist, “If you or your AI encounter any problems understanding our systems, let me know and I'll help sort them out. I imagine there might be some discrepancies in our technology that might cause issues in understanding... being built in a different language, culture, and what not.” He offered a small smile and turned to head off to medical... though he had to resist the urge to chastise the alien AI about its keeping secrets while stealing theirs but it would be a moot point.

He did not get far though before a familiar form interpose herself between him and any further travel. He looked at the Lieutenant Commander giving her a slight nod and a quick “Angela,” before attempting to step around and keep going. She moved into his way before he could go anywhere though and he took another look at her to actually see her. He saw the look in her and way she was standing, she knew better than to let him go as he would just bury himself in his work mentality... she was forcing him to wake up emotionally.

Angela waited for Jon, “There is so much that I want to say to you…”

“You could have at least wrote,” were the words out of his mouth before he thought. Bitter words that he regretting saying, kicked himself over for saying them after so long away from her only to possibly open new wounds... He would not backpedal though, he couldn't, he had said the words and now live with the consequences of them.

_________________
I am the darkness that surrounds me, I am the air that surrounds me, I am the land that hides me, I wait to strike, From the darkness, I wait to kill, From out of thin air, I am invisible, And I am silent death. Prayer of Invisibility from The Imperial Infantryman's Uplifting Primer

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PostPosted: Tue Sep 16, 2014 4:09 pm 

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Rega sat numbly at the long, dented, metal table and stared off blankly as people started to leave. Priorities shifted, rightly so, but her main focus was Dren still and her mind raced with ideas on how to fix this situation.

“Rega?” Jon said with a bit of concern to the alien engineer/scientist, “If you or your AI encounter any problems understanding our systems, let me know and I'll help sort them out. I imagine there might be some discrepancies in our technology that might cause issues in understanding... being built in a different language, culture, and what not.” He offered a small smile and turned to head off to medical...

She snapped out of her daze and shortly nodded, returning his smile for a moment, then sighed and stared down at the dull metal table.

"[Kit, how long until repairs are complete on the Elyandra?]" she huffed.

"[Damage was extensive. Without a proper understanding of their technology and the procedures to properly repair their systems, I am unable to offer an accurate time frame on repairs.]" he replied, the voice sounding hollow in the cylindrical form of the drone gently floating beside her. She stood and stretched, shaking her head to help clear her thoughts, then left the empty meeting room to quickly cross the bridge and into the hallway, the drone bobbing behind her.

"[Kit, optimize repairs to the best of your ability. Leave a few drones for repair of the Mauna Kea and general operation. Start up the Drone Manufacturing plant on the ship if you need more.]" she said as she walked. In an elevator that would take her to the deck with the airlock to her ship, she spoke again, "[Oh, how is the cargo after all of that?]" She asked, "[Anything broken?]"

"[Gate parts are not damaged. We sustained minimal damage to shields and armor plating. Most of which are near completion for repair.]" Kit informed, "[Captain, are you thinking of assembling the prototype return gate? In this hostile space?]"

"[Not yet. You're right. It's much too dangerous. If these 'Children' People were to find it, they would either destroy it, or use it to invade Nekan space. Also these Humans need to be investigated as well before I trust them with that data.]"

"[I was under the impression that you already trust them. Have you changed your mind?]" Kit asked.

"[No, I do trust them, however, we need more information. Did Dren keep any logs while on this ship?]" she asked.

"[Negative, however, there is a rather large data bank left by his AI, Yuri. It includes logs of all missions and a daily record of Dren's activities. I must advise that most entries are private and recorded without Dren's knowledge.]" Kit informed, making Rega stop for a moment. She knew Yuri quite well and was surprised that she did such a thing. Maybe the time they were apart, Yuri had evolved while with Dren. Such personal things are usually against an AI's programming.

She continued on, her army of drones weaving around her as she walked, only stepping away when a couple of drones carried an injured crewman past towards their sickbay. She noticed it suddenly stop and carefully reverse course.

"[What's going on with those?]" Rega asked as she continued on, keeping pace beside the stretcher.

"[The Elyandra's sickbay is currently full. I am redirecting further drones to ours and granting their doctors full control to our sickbay and any pertinent areas of the ship.]"

"[Good. Let's help in any way we can.]" Rega said, veering off as the stretcher went in the direction of sickbay. She headed towards the cargo hold.

The massive room was daunting, even she felt overwhelmed when inside. It was so large you could barely see the other side. It was a waste of resources to keep the whole place lit, heated and pressurized, so force fields were put in place to supply life support to only needed areas, walkways, control rooms, etc. Rega gazed up and massive floodlights snapped on to illuminate the large, curved metal pieces that lined the ceiling and nearly reached the floor. Rows upon rows of arches, lined most of the massive space, then large structures sat on the other side, the heart of the prototype gate. The rest of the space was lined with assembly robotics and the large door in the ceiling of the hold could barely be seen through the dust floating in zero G in the cargo hold. Rega came here often and by habit counted all the parts. Satisfied that all was well, she eyed the other corner of the hold where the mass production type Paladin mechs used to stand, now their charging alcoves lay dormant.

Returning to the hallway, she attempted to head towards the bridge.

"[Kit, is there anything I can do now? Should I help with repairs?]" she asked. Kit's drone swerved and stopped in front of her.

"[Captain, it is best to leave coordination of repairs to me. Efficiency would be hampered if you were to assist.]" he said.

"[Are you saying I would be in the way?]" she asked, a little anger in her voice.

"[Not at all, Captain.]" he retorted, "[I am merely saying that because I am unable to relay instructions to you as efficiently as one of my drones, it would take more time to instruct you as to what needs to be done.]"

Rega's heart dropped. She needed to do something to keep busy, to find a way to find Dren. To rescue him. She felt helpless. "[What can I do?]" she whimpered, lowering her head. Kit's drone raised in the air so it was eye level.

"[Go to bed. Get some rest. Have a bath or something. You're tired, Captain.]" it said. Kit's voice oddly took on a tone of compassion, very out of character for what she was used to. Perhaps this is what they call it when an AI evolves? She sighed heavily.

"[I know you are right.]" she said. ["Call me if anything at all comes up. Let Captain Troy know the same.]"

---------------------

The last time Rega was in her quarters was back in Nekan space. Even then it was to throw her bags inside and rush off to the Bridge. She eyed the bag now hanging from a hook beside the door, a drone had long ago unpacked for her. She felt exhausted, now that she stopped. The fatigue caught up to her and she pulled off her lab coat and holster for her pistol, letting it fall into a nearby chair. While her mind drifted elsewhere, Kit's earlier suggestion took hold in her subconscious and only when she had peeled off her skin tight flightsuit and lowered herself in warm, aromatic water did she realize what she had done, but gave in to the relief the bath offered. The lights in the room dimmed and a soft, Nekan melody drifted from the concealed speakers in the room. Kit really knew how to set the mood...

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PostPosted: Thu Oct 23, 2014 4:31 pm 
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There was simply too much hype inside this ship. Now that Canaan didn't have Annie inside his head to divert his attention elsewhere, he could finally see just how much work the entire crew (him included) had to do to keep the Elyandra functional. The ship itself had seen better days, even gone to hell and back a few times, but this is by far, the worst one yet. A group of mechanics and engineers suddenly came from the hall to his right, shoving him out of the way rather forcefully. Having been knocked aside into the wall, Canaan glared at the group waiting for an apology but nobody even gave him a second thought; they just continued on their way to the direction of the ship's hull, probably for priority repairs.

"Hmm, did we get hit that bad?" Canaan wondered out loud, catching the attention of some ship mechanics trailing the first group. One of them stopped and walked up to him, crossing both arms on top of his chest.

"You don't know how badly damaged the Elyandra was after that fiasco?" he suddenly asked, slightly irritated. "Where were you son? Hiding in your bunk when the fighting started?"

The hint of disdain in the mechanic caught Canaan's attention. He turned to the side slowly to face him, glancing at the man from head to toe, duly noting the insignia of Chief Ship Mechanic on the man's right shoulder before leveling his stare on him. "On the contrary Chief, as much as I would have loved to stay in my bunk, I was out there risking my ass to help keep this ship in one piece." Canaan responded, letting the man see his pilot insignia.

"Hmph! You certainly did a swell job. Look at us now! We can hardly move this ship without her falling apart on us!" he grumbled, fiery tone still evident in his words. "Do you have any idea how much man hours we have to work to get this ship back to full functionality?" now he was shaking his head sideways in defeat. "If only you flyboys would do a much better job of protecting your only base ship, we wouldn't have to over-exhaust our manpower."

Canaan sighed. Their responsibilities may have been different, but the strain on both sides remained the same. They were, after all, still in one boat. The Chief Ship Mechanic may be having some difficulties allocating his men to keep up with the demands of their job, much less meeting the short deadline of getting the ship fixed asap; it was no question why he was upset and grumpy. However, it wouldn't be fair for any of the pilots to just take the blame for Elyandra's current condition. None of them saw this coming, and none of them obviously wanted this to happen. Out there, whether it was to protect a ship, or to destroy a target, pilots are almost always the first ones to die. In Canaan's opinion, they all deserved a little respect.

"Instead of worrying about man hours and over-exhaustion, take the time to stop and think for a moment. Why do you think you're still breathing Chief?" Canaan questioned the man, his own anger mingled in his voice. "In case you haven't been informed, we just lost one of our own out there—he's the reason why we're all still here." the reminder of their lost pilot made Canaan feel a hint of sadness. They may not have been friends, but they were still comrades-in-arms. Dren was a skilled pilot. He didn't deserve any disrespect. "For your sake Chief, I would stop blaming the pilots and accusing them of incompetence. We don't ask your bunch for anything when we die out there," Canaan stepped closer to the man, meeting his fiery gaze with his own. "so don't give us crap about not doing a better job."

"Hey **** off flyboy! You have no right disrespecting our Chief like that!" one of the Chief's men started to back him up. "We bust our asses just as much as you flyboys do so don't get cocky on us!" he said and grabbed a monkey wrench, ready to hit Canaan with it.

"You don't want to go there." Canaan warned the man.

"Oh yeah? Watch me!" he swore and swung the wrench at Canaan.

Instinctively, Canaan raised his cybernetic arm to block the blow. Just when he was about to hit back, a woman's voice caught their attention. When Canaan looked to the side, a nurse stood there watching them with cold eyes. The mechanics seem to have understood what it meant and almost amazingly went on their way like nothing happened. A baffled Canaan stood in awe, a hand coming on top of his cybernetic arm that didn't really hurt.

"You." the nurse called out to him. "Follow me to sickbay. That arm of yours needs to be looked at."

"Uhh.. no it's fine really. That was nothing." he protested but got the same cold stare from the nurse.

"Nobody walks away fine after getting hit with a monkey wrench. I insist pilot. We can't have any more of you dying out there just because he can't maneuver properly because of an injury." she turned away from Canaan, walking in a determined, yet purposeful stride. Canaan had no choice but to comply.

The two made their way around the ship headed towards sickbay. Along the way, a lot of the ship's crew were lined outside waiting for treatment. This wasn't something new to Canaan but that doesn't mean he's gotten used to seeing such a scenario. They really took a beating from the Children bastards this time. There wasn't much change inside the sickbay. Those heavily injured during the earlier fight were either receiving treatment, or getting themselves stabilized. Canaan had to wriggle his way around to keep up with the nurse that asked him to come.

"As you can see, we're understaffed. There isn't much room to move around so feel free to stand there while I take a look at your arm." she said while expertly picking up stuff to treat his non-existent injury.

"I uhh, don't think this is really necessary. I'm fine miss, real--"

"Take off that glove and pull up your sleeve." the nurse suddenly cut him off. Canaan hesitated, not really wanting to show the nurse his arm. "Get a move on pilot. I don't have all day."

With a sigh, Canaan finally pulled off the glove, revealing his robotic hand to the nurse who was in turn, a bit shocked. "You see now? It's cybernetic, and I'm not fond of showing this to other people. It goes up to here," he said tracing the entire length of his robotic arm. "and it's made using special alloys that can most definitely, withstand a blow from a monkey wrench. Not even a regular chainsaw can cut this." he informed her while putting the glove back on. "Sorry to have wasted your time miss. I tried to tell you but you were just..." he paused, deciding not to finish the thought. "I appreciate the concern though."

Having realized her blunder, the nurse fell at a loss for words. Not only did she waste his and her time by being forceful, she also made him show her something he was obviously too sensitive about.

"Don't worry about it. You're just doing your job." Canaan tried his hand at assuring the nurse that everything was fine. "If you'll excuse me, I have to report to the Captain. I have a D.A. to sort out."

"B-But of course. You're... free to go." she struggled for words.

Canaan smiled at her politely before turning the other way. Cybernetic treatment isn't something new, but was considered unorthodox. The military is probably the only ones who value such treatment procedures cost-wise. Issues about such treatment would be genetic compatibility. Not many people adapt well to having a machine become a part of their body, and when given a choice, even fewer people accept such treatment. In Canaan's case, he didn't ask for this. The nurse was probably used to seeing someone like him but she might have felt bad for having to force him to show her his mech side. They all knew the emotional impact of having to go through the works. Still, it wasn't her fault. Canaan wouldn't blame her. Just when he was about to exit the sickbay, Canaan heard the nurse calling him.

"Pilot!" she yelled. "I didn't catch your name."

Canaan smirked and turned his head to the side, catching a glimpse of the nurse. "The name's Canaan, Canaan Frost."

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PostPosted: Sat Oct 25, 2014 12:46 am 

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This whole war was just…wrong. On so many levels it was wrong and she wanted nothing more than to just give up and run from it. Take Jared and leave this all behind them, to live in a place where it could be them and their baby. It was a dream that she knew could never be, which is why she supposed it was a dream.

The overhead lights were harsh in the moment of it all, they brought about her own headache that she knew was nothing in comparison to what Jared suffered with. Part of it had to do with what he had just gone through and the other part had to do with what he was now. Not quite human, but human enough to regret actions caused by the more animal side. When he stopped she was right at his side, hand on his back which she rubbed in gentle circles. There were no words for this moment; at least none that she felt was appropriate there in the hall. Words of love, devotion and promise; no those words were better left to be said when they were alone. When there was less chance of someone to happen upon them. Where she could profess her love for him and then cry about the fact that she could not be completely honest with him.

Cry for the lies she was forced to tell him; forced to tell them all.

At his question she frowned, “Let’s get to our room and talk there. Ok?”

Though she might have not meant to, her tone and words were enough for Jared know something was indeed wrong with him... or perhaps he was over thinking it. His head reeled again and he stifled a groan of discomfort before heaving himself away from the wall like he weighed as much as a lead statue. He did not say anything, just giving a small nod before shuffling heavily down the hall with his thoughts slowly unraveling.

… Jared was not sure when or how it happened but next thing he was remembering was snarling at a poor engineer that he had pinned against the wall. He vaguely recalled the man bumping into them... or was it just giving them a greeting as they went by? It did not matter to the beast as it wanted that trembling man's blood but Veronica was able to wake Jared up and he let the engineer go. The inner beast clawed painfully at his chest as the phantom taste of blood filled his mouth, tempting him even as Jared wrestled it back under control.

He was quietly for a long time, his breathing heavy and pained, before starting off to the room again with uneasy slowness. As they drew closer, he looked at Veronica with tears straining at his eyes as labored words quietly left his mouth, “Are you two really safe?”.


Perhaps she underestimated the state of his mind as he lashed out at one of their friends, a man they had shared meals with on numerous occasions. She would never lie and say she as not afraid of this side and felt more than ever that something had to be done. Something had to be done before he lost it completely. If he went too far, if the beast took too strong a hold, she was not sure if he would ever come back.

Their journey continued, but he paused just shy of their door. “Of course we are. We are as safe as any other place in the universe. You’re here to protect us, right?” the words meant to assure and encourage as she urged him the last few steps to their door. One inside she had the auto lights dimmed before she helped him to the couch then went to fetch him a glass of cold water along with some meds to try and help his pain.

“Here,” she said as she offered the glass and the meds. “These should help.”

Jared gratefully took the meds and water, downing them as soon as they were in hand before collapsing back into the couch. It probably was not healthy taking so many meds and painkillers one after another but the pain was so great. He steadied his breathing and pretended that the pain had lessened, in an attempt to convince Veronica as well as himself that he was getting better. The beast within seemed to settle down now that it was in its territory.

He looked to his fiance' and held out his hand to her, just wanting to hold her close at that moment to try and comfort her... try and convince both of them he was still the man that loved her and not the beast that scared her. “I'm sorry,” He said softly, “I... haven't been feeling like myself lately. Maybe it's just stress... I never thought I would be a father and with the recent attacks...” It was his flimsy way of trying to comfort her now. It was partially true as there had been more attacks than usual and the likelihood of parenthood in that day and age (especially for modified pilot and unmodified mate) was extremely low... He also tried to bring himself to believe this truth fully as the alternative was not as pleasant.


As beckoned, she went to him, it was easy enough to slide into the spot beside him and rest her body against his own. Head on his chest, her ear pressed against his chest she could hear the rapid beating of his heart. The speed with which only furthered to worry her about his condition and what would happen to him in the long run. Still, she knew better than to voice these concerns, let alone let them show on her face. Today had been a rough day, for everyone. So many had died today, so much blood had been shed and for what?

Sometimes it did not seem like much of anything. Hell, if it were not for Jared she was not sure where she would have ended up. Jared and this child were the only things in this world that really mattered to her anymore. For them she would continue to pretend, for them she would fight the good fight. Though she was no longer sure just what the good fight was anymore.

“I know, baby,” she whispered to him. “I know. Today was not good for anyone.”





The words stung deep and it took what little composer Angela had left to not break down right then and there.

Instead she took a slow deep breath, rolled her neck and leveled a gaze at him, “Can we talk about this somewhere else?” It was more of an insistence than a request and if he refused she was just about through with him. If he wanted to snap at her and not bother to hear her side of the story, then he might as well be dead again to her.

Jon closed his eyes and took a slow breath himself at her request, when his eyes opened again the sharpness in them had all but disappeared. “That would probably be best,” he replied with a softer, possibly sorrowful tone. He gave a small gesture for her to lead on to where they would talk.

It was an uncomfortably quiet journey, their rough parting and meeting once again hovering over them like a sickening storm cloud. When they got to where they could talk in relative privacy, the cloud followed them in to strangle the air around them. Jon forced words from his mouth in hopes of taking steps towards easing the tension. “Perhaps it would be better if you went first.”


A currently unoccupied cargohold was the destination and Angela could not stop herself from pacing a bit when they first got there. Even with his suggestion that she go first, she had to pace a bit, to release a bit of tension before she actually spoke to him.

“I wrote you,” she finally said. “It took a bit, because I thought you were an ass for leaving me, but I did write you,” she sighed. “You never wrote me back!” she snapped, her voice rumbled in a growl as the lion DNA reared its head.

Jared didn't shrink back or flinch when she snapped and growled at him, he had to deal with the lioness as much as the woman... also the fact she was calling him an ass for leaving angered him a bit. He had had his orders and asked her to come with him but she refused. She was just as much at fault as he was for their separation or that is at least how he saw it. Her words bit into that sour note of their relationship... former relationship he reminded himself and his anger and bitterness welled up again.

“I left you?!” He snapped back, “I was transferred and asked you to come with me! You didn't even bother to see my depart.” Part of him realized they were right back to where they had left off but that was not the part that was being heard. He met her glare right back with his own knowing full well that showing any weakness now would undermine anything he said to her.


There it was again, that same ****ing argument and Angela was not in the mood for it at all. “IT’S ALWAYS ABOUT YOU! YOU AND YOUR ****ing ORDERS! WHAT ABOUT MY ORDERS? MY COMMITMENT TO THIS SHIP AND MY CREW? YOU NEVER ****ing EVEN CONSIDERED THAT! YOU JUST WANTED ME GONE SO THAT I WOULD BE SAFE! BUT HOW ****ing SAFE WERE YOU HUH? OUT THERE ON THAT OTHER ****ing SHIP! DO YOU THINK THAT IF I HAD GONE WITH YOU I WOULD STILL BE ALIVE?”

Now she roared, her anger burned hot and primal. The lioness wanted to rip out his throat about just as much as the woman wanted to slap him, perhaps more so with how **** she felt right now. The nerve of him to put this blame on her, to make it all seem like her fault and as if he had nothing to do with anything.

“YOU THINK I WANTED TO LEAVE?! THIS SHIP IS MY HOME! I WORKED MY ASS OFF TO KEEP HER FLYING! YOU THINK I FELT SAFE GOING TO ANOTHER SHIP? THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS ****ing 'SAFE' OUT HERE! WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE DONE IN MY PLACE? IGNORED YOUR ORDERS? CAUSE NO AMOUNT OF PAPER WORK I DID CERTAINLY CHANGED ANYTHING!”

Jon wanted to lash out now almost as much as she did. Both with just unloading layers of guilt and anger upon the other fanning the flames higher with neither caring if they reduced to ash. He held back though as he knew she outclassed him with her enhancements and the only way to get her was to catch her off guard. Instead he resolved to use her weight against her and throw her as far/hard as he could if she lunged for him... after that he really did not think much further.


No matter how much she wanted to hit him, she reframed, no matter how much she wanted to hurt him and see him bleed she held herself in check. At least when it came to his face, instead she paced away and punched the side of a crate. The sturdy metal dented though her knuckles were bloody from the impact. A fresh wave of pain was the final straw of her rage and it just dwindled from there. “I wanted a life with you. Marriage, children (if I could even have any), you know the whole thing. You left and it just…” she sighed and punched the side of the crate again though it held no fury to it. Instead it was as defeated as she felt at that moment. “All I wanted was you and then it was over…” she whispered into the silence that followed.

Jon's rage held for a second or two longer before events finally caught up to him and he relaxed. He was surprised she had not gone for him to vent her anger... and he had to admit part of him wanted her to hurt him in retribution for what had happened. Instead a poor crate took his place in the line of fire and felt her wrath as he stood there in silence, listening to her words.

When she went silent, Jon stood there in a sort of neutral expression before casting a glance slightly downward and walking away... only to get a first aid kit off the wall and go over to Angela. He worked without a sound, opening the kit, getting a small bandage, gently taking her injured hand, and beginning to wrap it.

“All I wanted was you too.” He said quietly as he worked, keeping his focus on her hand, “I did not want to leave you behind... Marriage always seemed so far away but I knew I did not want to be away from you. Maybe I was thinking too much with my head and not enough with my heart trying to fix things...” He finished bandaging her hand but kept it in his as he looked up at her face again. He searched for words for a second or two before giving up and simply asking her, “Does that feel better?”


Numbness set in as he bandaged her hand, the pain already gone and in its place was the hurtful silence of the moment. “Why?” she asked instead of answering his question. “Why did you go? The Captain could have done something to get you to stay, but you didn’t try you just took your orders and left. Did you really want to get so far away from me?” she asked softly.

Prior to his orders their relationship had already been rocky. One could blame the stress of their world, mixed with the combatting genetics of her DNA. Either way, they had fought more and more the past couple of weeks before he finally left. Both too proud and stubborn to back down so it just never got resolved.

“If there is a problem, I've got to fix it myself... and what could the Captain have done? We were not engaged or married and someone had pulled a lot of strings to get me off the Elyandra,” He responded though again showing his stubbornness and ability to over think situations.

“As for wanting to get away from you: I never got very far,” He said with a small smile forming as reached into the breast pocket of his destroyed jumpsuit... only to have his face suddenly drop to dread as he almost frantically checked the rest of his pockets (not realizing the item he was looking for was back on Rega's ship). Turning up nothing, he sighed heavily and facing at Angela with an apologetic look. “I guess I lost it in the fires... damn it... I had the picture from our date after your last birthday... had it on me everyday I was on that cursed ship. Took it out whenever I needed to see your smile to give me some sense of sanity back... the rest of the time I just buried myself in work...”


She smiled, it was a small one but it was still a smile. “I remember that…” she whispered, as tears glistened in her eyes though they had yet to fall. “I have that picture in my room still…on the table by my bed…”

Another breath shuddered through her body before she finally took up the courage to look him in the eyes. “Where do we go from here?”



"At least this place looks fine.." he mumbled to himself after noticing that the bridge deck was significantly less hectic than the lower decks.

Canaan seldom frequented this area of the ship; it was either too formal or too rich for his blood depending on his mood. The bridge deck contained mostly officer cabins and some less important facilities like viewing bays and mostly pleasure related ones. Although this was an ideal place to relax, most hours Canaan would rather waste away in the hangar while off duty. When on standby, he would be seen loitering around the mess hall or in the hangars helping the pit crews with maintenance duty. During downtime, he was mostly inside Anubis, or confined in his one-man cabin tinkering with his robotic parts.

The white-haired pilot walked the halls, noting the significant lessening of people moving about frantically. There were still quite a few huddled together, and then some passing by every now and then. Turning left at a hall intersection, Canaan traced his steps to the Captain's quarters. He knocked twice on the door, "Captain Troy, Canaan Frost to see you ma'am."


Captain Troy retreated to her quarters. There it was still silent and most knew better than to intrude on her without a good reason. The cup of hot chocolate that she had made had long since cooled and remained untouched. Everything had a bitter taste lately and the original idea had been to sit back, go over a couple of reports and then take some time to herself to relax; that had been the plan. Then the first report was opened and it contained nothing but the names of the dead. What had started initially as a crew of a thousand strong had slowly been whittled away to a scant four hundred. Each and every single one of them she knew.

They had families, friends and loved ones that expected them to return. Now, they were dead and for what? To fight against a group of psychos who thought they were right; a group that would sooner murder every single man woman and child than to go against some false prophet’s religious babble. At one point she just could not take it anymore. Could not take the countless reports from people that she cared about being dead and so she simply stopped. Now, she sat there at her desk face buried in her hands and she just tried to put herself somewhere else.

When the notification came there was someone at her door, along with whom it was she sighed and stood. “Enter,” she called out, her mug retrieved to heat up even if she did not expect to drink it. “What do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Mr. Frost?” she asked while she waited for her beverage to warm.

Canaan entered the Captain's Cabin, his posture and demeanor all that he could consider military. How hard could it be? All he has to do was to simply stand stiff, put on a straight face, and add sir or ma'am at the end of anything he says. Then again, Captain Troy was one of those Captains who exuded authority in a respectable yet almost uncomfortable way. Talking to her while pretending to be one of them military types would prove to be a mountain of a task. Easing into his natural posture, Canaan continued in.

A polite distance. He stopped in his tracks several paces away from Captain Troy, maintaining a respectful gap between him and her desk. She seemed to be in the process of fixing herself a warm drink. "It's about..." he hesitated, memory of how he got hold of the DA sanctioned against him resurfacing. Annie hacked into the ship's systems covertly and was monitoring its activities, thus relaying any information that she comes across with that she would deem beneficial to him. Surely Captain Troy would not appreciate the fact. "...a rumored Disciplinary Action against me." he picked the word 'rumored' wisely. "I've been hearing talk from the rumor mill that I got myself into trouble."


To say she did not like Frost would have been a lie; truth was she just did not care for the man who had this attitude about him. Almost like he had done them a favor when he joined their ranks, an attitude that Troy could hardly stomach let alone tolerate most of the time.

When he entered she stayed put, her posture casual and relaxed even if her gazed was hard. The hesitation before he spoke amused her and caused her brow to arch slightly as she listened to him explains the reason for his visit.

“The rumor mill?” she asked. “Or, more the report that I began to file on my desk but have not gotten around to sending off just yet?” the mug was retrieved, steam rose from the obviously hot contents as she strode back over to her desk where the mug was then set. “Which one do you think it is?”

Should he come clean about how he got the info? Obviously she did not make it to Captain without good reason. Canaan sighed a heavy one, realizing that if he continued on with this charade, he would probably get himself into more trouble. The brig maybe? Nah. They can't afford to have a pilot missing out a sortie when and if those Children bastards decide to attack again. Now that the were down one more skilled pilot, they needed him and his mech functional for him to be sent to the brig, that much he knows. Perhaps an extended sanction? Canaan did not really care. All he knows is that it won't do them any good...all of them.

"Look Captain," he started slow, following the female with his eyes as she moved to her desk. "I'll give it to you straight. On what grounds was that DA based from? What good will it serve you and this ship that's already falling apart?" he met her hard gaze with his own. "I may not be knowledgeable when it comes to military stuff and how you do things but I do get that this is to maintain order." he continued, folding his arms above his chest. "Will that save us from the Children?" he asked her a tough question to answer. "Would having me go through the works guarantee victory in the battles that has yet to come?"

Canaan's expression began to soften, memories of a time long gone flooding his mind until he had the look of regret on his face. "Let's face it Captain, we're on the losing end." he stated the bitter fact. It did not take a military tactician to figure that one out. "I never had any intention of joining the military back in the day, and that still has not changed." he said softly. "Now I'm in one of their ships—your ship fighting for not just my own life but for the fate of mankind!" a scowl slightly formed on his features. "Don't you think that's crazy?" he asked her, not really expecting an answer. "I'm just a grease monkey turned test pilot for a mech corporation and now I'm..." he trailed off, gritting his teeth at the truth before him. "I'm not even sure anymore."


No emotion played across her face as she listened to his words, instead she allowed her hand to work steadily on the datapad that was ever present on her desk. Of course she knew he had a point, everyone felt that way more than once through this whole ordeal. It was crazy and maddening, not to mention frustrating on so many levels that one had to wonder what was the point? Why fight against something that felt so, inevitable?

By the time he was done, she had the data she wanted pulled up and with a flick of her wrist the information was projected out into the space between them. It was his file, complete with the information in regards to his military career.

“For one who claims to not be in the military your file says otherwise,” remark given while she continued to stir the beverage before her. “So, even if you had not intended on joining the military that does not mean anything now, because you did and graduated just like the rest of us. Went through the training, took the code and swore to protect those you charged with their safety. That includes everyone on this ship and everyone back home. You will do so and you will follow my orders while doing it and respect my authority on the ship, because that is what you signed up for. Whether you like it or see the point that is not for you to question. You are a soldier and a part of this crew. Right now, our order and regulations is the only thing that is getting most through this waking nightmare and I am not going to have one of my pilots going about as if they are above them,” the last bit held probably more emotion than anything she had said thus far.

“The thing about this whole situation is that it is bigger than any of us and we have a duty to protect those who are waiting for us back home,” she said after a moment, the emotion gone from her voice once more. “If you really don’t understand that and are not sure about why you are even here anymore, I can put in a request for an immediate transfer from the Elyandra and you will be free to return to the Moon. Once there you can seek to be discharged from the military and free to do with your life as you wish. All you need do is tell me, right here and now, and it shall be done.”

Once again she merely gazed at him, eyes unwavering as she waited to see what decided to do. Would his mech and skills be missed? Surely, but she would rather pilot one of the old mechs on her own, rather than deal with someone who was not sure why they were there anymore and did not understand why as a soldier they had to follow orders.

Home. A bittersweet word encased in chaos and turmoil. Where was home now? What would a man like him, or any other person call home in these times? The Captain's words made all the sense in the galaxies that they could fit in them. Only, she was basing it off the assumption that he had made his choice to join the military willingly. Canaan looked at the projection of his file, reading through the first parts where it indicated the time he enlisted, each written word stabbing his heart as he read them, memories from his time on the moon before all hell broke loose played back inside his head...

____

"Cana-n! C-n you he-r me?!"

The broken voice coming in through the ETCF's transponder woke the test pilot from his sleep. They were on their way to the moon for a demonstration of their latest model to the military. It was a standard operation, one he had done more times than he could count his fingers. It was supposed to be a short trip; all they had to do was convince the military that their newest product would be the best machine to pour their military war funds into. In fact, Canaan had already made a short checklist of the things to do: One, go to the moon. Two, blow some test drones up and make the jaws of the military top brass drop. Three, get out, get paid and take a vacation with Sefira.

"Doc?" he pressed a few buttons to clear the static off the transmission. "What's up? Last minute changes?"

"Canaan! Canaan! Listen to me carefully!" the sound of dread in the good doctor's voice was unmistakable. "The Children, they're coming to the moon! Whatever you do, don't let them get their hands on the ETCF!"

"W-wait Doc! Slow down! Who's coming?" he asked, only to hear cries of agony in the background of the transmission before it faded into static.

____

It was at this junction where everything had gone to hell for Canaan. The next thing he knew, the moon base where he was going to came under attack, with him right in the middle of the crossfire. Shortly after that, he was up in space in Orbit Industries' latest model, cooperating with the military in fending off attackers while keeping those who were trying to evacuate safe. A few days later, he learned that everything he called home was taken away from him. He had nowhere else to go, and as painful as it was, nobody was waiting for him anymore, and there was nothing he could do about it— not a damn thing!

"Took an oath like the rest of you huh?" he scoffed at the Captain, his eyes meeting her cold, calculating stare. "Graduated?!" he took a short breath, remembering the asteroid belt and that old battle cruiser that served as their pseudo academy. "From what? A crashcourse to killing?!" his cybernetic hand balled into a fist but remained still. "Don't make me laugh Captain. You would never understand. This..." he looked around him briefly. "all this is your life, all of this is your home, you made the choice to be where you are now willingly. Someone like you would never be able to see the world through my eyes." now there was a hint of anger in his tone.

"My choices were made for me by fate! What makes you think I would give a damn about your battles if I could help it huh?!" his tone rising even more, in tune with the anger he was feeling. "You dare say you will send me home?! That I just need to say the word and it will be done?! Do you even have any idea about what you said? You don't even know me Captain! And obviously you don't care one bit!" by this time he wanted to hit something. "I have no home to come back to! You have my file, you should have at least read that part too! Everyone I care about is dead, died at the hands of those Children bastards!" he breathed deep and paused, taking the time to calm himself down. It was unfair for him to lash out at the Captain, but it was also unfair for her to treat him like some expendable pawn she could send home anytime she wanted.

As soon as Canaan got a hold of himself, he exhaled sharpy and looked at the Captain, his expression devoid of any emotion. "The only reason I'm here now is to make them pay, and that is all that I need." he stated and turned around, ready to put an end to their conversation. "You want me to follow your orders?" he asked, glancing back at the woman. "Then you better make sure it involves killing the Children bastards; it will be my genuine pleasure." he finished and stepped out of the Captain's quarters.

Whatever she choses to do next, he did not want any part of it.


His speech was pretty and not one that she had not heard before from so many others like him. The Moon was everyone's home, until they found a new planet. But, he was not going to pedal his **** off angry bullshit and think he could storm out.

Not on her ship.

"Security, escort Lt. Frost to his quarters and have him gather his belongings then escort him to the hanger and to his mech he will be leaving this ship," she said without a second thought.

"Understood ma'am."

"Computer, full lock out for him and his Mech. Maximum security protocols. If they so much as plug in to charge their battery I want the hard drive fried and the mech put out of commission." There was an audible response from the computer to acknowledge her command.

That done she stood there in her quarters, **** and frustrated, but thinking that she had perhaps made a mistake instead. At least to some degree.

A sigh and she contacted security once again, "Yes Captain."

"Belay that order. Instead, escort the Lt. to the brig. Confine him there until further notice, understood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

That done, she merely sat back at her desk. Gaze cast to the large window that overlooked the far expanse of space that held both their salvation and their demise. Such a conundrum it was, to have to venture out into something that only possibly held their chance at survival. He was not the only one who lost anyone and before this war was over, he would not be the last either. Instead of wallowing in his pity party he should instead shape up and do what he enlisted to do, willingly or not he was still part of the military and he damn sure better start acting like it.

"Computer, the Anubis requires direct clearance from me before it does anything at all."

Another audible response from the computer and she just sat there alone in her quarters. Contemplating the future for her and her crew.

_________________

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"Draco didn’t listen, so Hermione shut him down the best way she knew how"......"She set that ****ing on fire."
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PostPosted: Sun Nov 30, 2014 8:15 am 

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The only solace Edwin has found, within these past few hellish years, has been working with his hands. It was the only way for him to really make time fly. It helped to get his mind off of things, and just relax a little, well, as much as he could relax during times like these anyway. While he was no expert when it came to mechanics, he was fairly knowledgeable when it came to his own mech. Phoenix was his baby after all. A project he was quite proud of, and valued more than he wanted to admit.

He shook out a rag and wiped the sweat from his brow. Repairing Phoenix was important, but he knew he should take his own well-being into consideration. He was really feeling the exhaustion sinking in deeper the longer he worked here. What good would he be to the crew if he threw himself into battle half-asleep? What would he accomplish?

Edwin? Underdog’s voice broke the silence Edwin had been enjoying.

“Yeah, what is it?” He sighed heavily. His tone came off sounding rather irritating, which had not been his intention. However, he didn’t do anything to correct it.

[/i]The captain wishes to inform you that we’re going to waiting a week before this mission is carried out. You are also assigned cleaning duty during this time.[/]

“Are you ****ing serious? A week?”

That’s what the captain’s message had said. Think about it, though, the ship has suffered heavy damage that will take awhile to repair. We need to collect ourselves, rest up, and then tackle what’s ahead.

Edwin snarled and rested his head against Phoenix, then punched it, feeling his temper rise a bit. “Yeah, but if I would’ve known that, I wouldn’t have left early. Damn…” He punched Phoenix again.

Punching the mech won’t help anything, Edwin… With all due respect, if you hadn’t acted so hastily, you would have known.

“Whatever…” Anger was boiling within him, with the desire to be unleashed; he’d probably snap at the next person who tried speaking to him. Damn it all to Hell. He could honestly not ****ing believe this ****. Here he thought he was being launched into battle again, and now he was stuck cleaning the ****ing ship all week. Well, just **** that, he thought, let the people who actually do those jobs take care of it like they’re supposed to. Repairing Phoenix was much more important than that.

His thoughts had wandered to everything that happened during that battle and every battle before that. It was a terrible nightmare that played in a continuous loop in his mind. Each and every time, he had come back alive. But each and every time, he only felt vengeance and the desire to avenge his fallen comrades. It was a shame to see morale being crushed further and further, the crew whittling away and being reduced to a mere handful of people. That was why he wanted to keep fighting and be in top shape.

What good would cleaning do if people were dying? He would rather live to fight another day and come home to a pig sty than watch someone get blown to bits because he wasn’t out there to defend the ship.

You don’t have anyone to blame but yourself. Underdog interrupted again. If you would have-

By now, Edwin was just done with this conversation, “Save it,” he growled. “Maybe that’s why I’m so ****ing ****.” He wondered if Underdog had been reading his thoughts again.

No further conversation happened after that and Edwin as able to finally get a bit of peace and quiet. He worked on Phoenix a little longer, brushing off any offers to help him. Cleaning duty or no, he would rather not leave his mech in such a sad state, he would finish the job before he got around to his punishment. The Children might decide to not wait around a week before they struck again. Edwin was always thinking out the worst case scenario, even if the possibilities were low. He would be ready to go out there and keep fighting.

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PostPosted: Wed Apr 20, 2016 1:50 pm 

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"<Captain, I really think you should leave that for the Humans to fix.>"

Rega had started to go stir crazy and had resorted to pacing the bridge as she barked orders to repair things but Kit's army of drones were always three steps ahead. It had gotten to the point where Kit had nearly automated the entire ship and was doing a better job than she could ever do. She remembered even sitting around all day on the bridge without doing anything, yet at least now she was doing something. Even if that something was lodging her thin body inside a bulkhead somewhere on the Human's ship, with a lamp attached to her forehead and a wrench in her hand. It had become hot in the cramped space and she was perched above the deck below with one foot on a large power conduit, and the other pressed to the opposite wall. Needless to say, it wasn't the safest of positions and she could understand the warnings Kit gave her through the earpiece she wore.

"<This needs to be done. The faster we get this ship fixed, the faster we can save Dren.>" she replied.

"<Who's going to save him if you fall and die?>" He retorted.

"<You worry too much.>" she said with a smile. The panel in front of her slid open and a blast of warm air made her fur dance on her cheeks, but she waved away the steam and started tweaking the pipe inside with her wrench. A moment later, the steam stopped billowing out of the pipe and she closed the access panel, attaching the wrench to her belt.

"We have pressure again!" The Engineer called from the hatch below. He had stuck his head inside and craned his neck around to look upward, only to see her legs and bottom splayed across the tight space, nearly ten feet above his head. Shining a light upward, he quickly noticed her compromising position and quickly withdrew from the hatch, "Thanks for your help, Captain! Neither of us would ever fit up there."

"No problem!" She called down, her translator pendant lit for a moment in the darkness of the crawlspace, then she began carefully lowering herself to the hatch. She felt a couple of the crew grab her ankles when she was in position and she was yanked out into the cool hallway air.

Then they started to laugh...

"What?" She inquired. A crew member just raised a terminal, hit a button, then turned it around to show her a picture of herself, her tail and most of the fur around her head and neck had puffed up and she looked like a large children's plush toy. It would be somewhat adorable, if it wasn't for the skin tight jumpsuit she always wore. Instead, it made her look like an afro attached to just a neck, "Oh, Ha. Ha. Very funny. You Humans don't have to worry about something like this happening. Have some sympathy! I just fixed your damn plumbing for the whole deck!"

"And you have our thanks." One man said, "Speaking of showers..." he added, then started chuckling as he handed over her lab coat she always wore.

"Yes. Yes. I'm going for one now." she said with a smile. "Let me know if there is anything else I can do. You're lucky I'm not claustrophobic."

"Oh, by the way. The captain wanted to see you." He said. Rega's eyes lit up. Finally!

With a wave, she trotted off for the airlock to her ship to clean herself up and get ready to see the Captain.

--------------------------------------------------

It has been a week since she had met this ship. It took a while for them to get used to her, yet some still weren't. She wondered how Dren coped with it and hoped he had a better time of it than she has. After consulting the computer, she took the lift to the bridge, where she was directed into the ready room to wait for the captain. Kit's drone silently bobbed in the air behind her chair and she nervously clutched a terminal from her ship, the writing on it was translated into the Human's language. After a week of waiting, she was ready to make a leap of faith in trusting these Humans. She had it all planned out in her head, but remembered Kit's doubts and warnings about proceeding. She hoped he was wrong. She somewhat felt that she needed to offer something to them to help her get Dren back, but after working with the crew, they spoke of him highly. Like a friend. They needed a plan, but first, Rega thought she needed to confirm that she could trust them. She laid the terminal on the table and waited for the Captain to arrive.

They were ready to go, just about; all that they needed now was to find where the Rapture was hiding. A cold mug of hot chocolate sat on her desk amidst a strewn mess of various datapads that held charts, schematics, a list of their supplies, map of the nearest star systems, etc. It was like the database of the ship had exploded on her desk and nothing there held the answer that she wanted at the moment. Unable to stand the sight of anymore numbers or figures she now stood before the window in her quarters that allowed her a view of the stars. Sure, in times of combat this would be the worst place to hide, but at the same token she never expected anyone to be there either.

When the proverbial **** hit the fan, she expected everyone to be where they were supposed to be. Including herself, which meant she would be on the bridge with the rest of her officers doing all that she could to ensure the safety of those in her charge. The most the window did was allow her mind to wander, which is what she did now. As her cerulean eyes stared with no focus out at the endless expanse of space, it held limitless possibilities but none of the answers that she sought.

A welcomed escape to the world around her, when she just needed a moment to collect herself and be without the pressures of being in command; a place where she could live the life she currently fought for. There in that world they had a new home world and her sister’s children could be free to grow up without fear of deformity in clean air and with fresh water. It was a dream that often felt too far to be real and though she fought each day to obtain that dream it did not always feel close at hand.

The alert of someone waiting for her in the ready room roused her from her thoughts and dreams. Unshed tears danced in her eyes as she gathered up a couple of datapads and headed off to meet the Nekan Captain.

“Sorry I’m late,” she said once she arrived and entered the room. She looked tired, if determined as she set her pads down on the table and took a seat across from the Nekan. “Ok, so you had a plan you wanted to discuss with me?”


Rega smiled and nodded when the Captain entered the room and laid a stack of pads on the table. She could tell that she was stressed and struggling to find answers. More than likely to the same problem she faced; to find Dren.

“Ok, so you had a plan you wanted to discuss with me?” she asked. Rega sat quietly for a moment, her face clearly showing the nervousness and indecisiveness of what she was about to do, yet she was not ready to change her mind now. One last look to Kit's drone hovering eternally at her side and she leaned forward and clasped her hands together on the smooth glass table.

"I have the beginnings of a plan to rescue Dren, but there's something else I want to discuss. Call it a plan for your main issue, if I'm not mistaken. I would like to put forward a suggestion as a token of good faith and as a first step of trust."

"Captain..." Kit began, yet stopped when Rega raised a hand.

"Now I understand we, as Nekans, have no place in your war and should not be involved. However, my experiment has displaced one of our kind from our sector, and has thrown him into your feud here." Rega explained, still trying to delay saying it, but she knew she had to. She moved her hand over the pad before her, hesitated, then pressed the connect button. Behind her, the view screen lit up displaying a detailed schematic of Mauna Kea's most precious cargo, a large ring shaped structure: A fully functional gate that will return anything that passes through it back to Nekan space. The final piece of her experiment. The first bi-directional Stargate between sectors of space. Maybe even different Galaxies. She still had no idea where this space was in relation to her home space. She wasn't even sure the gates would connect, but all her theory points to a resounding yes. She was confident this experiment would work.

"Now this gate is currently in large pieces inside the Mauna Kea. The ship is designed as a large industrial platform, with on-board factories capable of producing just about anything you have a blueprint for, and a construction platform for deploying this gate. I am willing to provide access to select members of your crew that would treat this information with confidentiality, as I hope you do. I understand that this information in the wrong hands would be bad for the chances of a successful deployment."

Rega stood up and hit a few more controls on the wall display, the rotating schematic of the gate retreated to the corner of the screen, giving space for a star chart to appear in the middle.

"Now, this was the most up to date star chart I had before leaving Nekan space." She hit a control and many planets were highlighted, "These are planets that are currently habitable, or have been terraformed to be so. From my research, they are very close to your own Earth." She hit another button and about three quarters changed color, displaying numbers beside them, "These are the planets currently occupied by Nekan populations and displaying their population density. The unsettled planets are currently not under any claim, except as territory of the Nekan Empire, so they are available for settlement by anyone, provided they fill out the proper paperwork and immigration procedures." Rega took her seat again and sighed heavily, her brow still lowered in worry, "I doubt there would be issues with Humans coming through and settling on one or several of these planets, granted you adhere to our laws and not cause issues. I'm sure something can be arranged. This could mean a new home for your people, Captain. I also want you to understand that this offer is not reliant on the safe return of Dren, but I would request we try the rescue first before we try and deploy the gate. I would also request that you determine the best place to do so as you know the safest areas of space. This is delicate machinery and will be susceptible to Children attacks."

Rega leaned back in her chair and waited for the Captain to process the information, hoping she wasn't making a mistake. Still the worry made a lump in her throat that wouldn't go away.

A new home. The words echoed in her mind like the whispered hope of a dream that had nearly been lost in the wake of all the bloodshed and pain. A place where they could thrive once more, a place where they could live once more and recover from the folly of their own mistakes; it was almost too good to be true.

The Nekan spoke and Troy listened, her face expressionless when as the spark of hope kindled into a small fire that threatened to consume her. Images and data passed before her eyes and she drank it all in, already her mind at work with how she would pitch it to the rest of the Federation only for all those plans come to a crashing halt at the mention of the Children. If one, just one of them made it through the gate they would stop at nothing in spreading their hatred and conviction. Then not only would humans be at risk, but their alien allies as well. Which lead to the thought of how they would even be able to launch such an offense and not have the Children ruin the plan? Or worse, have them take over the gate and journey through on their own.

So many things could go wrong with this that all Troy could do was feel that fire of hope die back down to the low ember it had become. There was just too much at risk for them to try it, at least with how she saw it now.

“My people are…well…lost and afraid,” she began once the other Nekan Captain finished her explanation. “We are dying, slowly but surely and a new home is something that we desperately need,” she paused and looked to the various highlighted planets and star charts. “However, the Children are too great a threat to even consider bringing them into your space…” another pause as she chews on her bottom lip and drums her fingers on the table. “Can your gates be used to just jump us to another location in this system?”


The question caught Rega off guard. She and Kit's drone slowly turned to look at each other, yet for the cylindrical robot seemed quite pointless. She glanced up at screen where another tap of her finger brought up the full screen gate schematics again. She started typing on her pad for a few moments and calculations streamed across the screen behind her. She finished and leaned back in her chair with a huff and spoke rather half halfheartedly.

"Yes, I suppose so. With some re-calibration, we can simply point it in a random direction and jump through just as I did before back on Neka, however, this would cause many, many more issues." she leaned forward, crossing her arms on the glass table, "For one, If I build the gate here and we go to a random place with it, I won't have a gate to get back here, or go to Neka. Two, we would have no idea where we end up. We could end up in a sector with no habitable planets or meet a threat worse than the Children we could even end up in a void between galaxies where there's nothing. It's extremely dangerous."

Rega paused for a moment then leaned back in her chair once more.

"I understand you don't want us to get even more involved in your war, Captain. And I'm sure I don't have the authority to bring you to our space if it would expose us to it. But, if by some slim chance I reprogram the gate and we get sent off to a lucky spot in the universe where there are untouched paradises of planets, without another gate again to come back, it would be one ship that goes. It would only be the Elyandra that would be spared from the war. If another ship were to go through afterward, it would not end up in the same place as the last one. For me to end up here this close to Ren was a drastic fluke. A second gate is needed for the first to lock onto and transport to a specific location."

She paused for a moment, then stood up from the table to wander over to the window, looking at the foreign stars outside.

"It can be done, but it's risky, unpredictable, and a one way trip. Doing it also removes any chance to return to Nekan space. I will leave the decision up to you, but I'm just advising you of the consequences." she said, "Again, there's no guarantee the Children still wouldn't follow us. At least if we go back to Nekan space, there is a considerable Military force for defense. The Mauna Kea fared somewhat well in our last encounter with the Children and she was barely damaged. She's also a Science vessel with a fraction of the combat capabilities of actual Military ships. I think we can take them."

She paused and turned away from the window with a sigh.

"Again, though, I'm in no position to be authorizing such force. This would be a lot easier if we could speak with the Nekan High Council and discuss our situation. We could have security set up at the gate and maybe post a Dreadnought in the area perhaps?"

"A Dreadnought would be overkill, Captain Rega." Kit chimed in. The first time he spoke since they started talking.

"Regardless, I will leave the decision up to you." Rega said.

_________________
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