(DS RP)

Alexander, Siegel and Levin sit at a bar in the terminal, their communication devices on their belts displaying the minutes that pass by, one after another. The three sit over a set of drinks, Alexander being the exception with a glass of sweet tea versus anything alcoholic. The conversion drifts from one subject to another, the energy maintained in spite of the lingering desire to move on to better things.

"I really hope whoever these new guys are, they get things going quick," Alexander says.

Siegel smiles, "Do we even know anything about these guys?"

Levin shakes his head, "Nope. They fly TEC designed ships, but they're not on the list of usual suspects. Then again, we've been without a chance to get updates from Trader Space and we never finished the overhaul on data from the far side of TEC systems."

"It really wasn't an issue for us," Alexander explains. "We knew where the Vasari were and when to expect reinforcements. These guys obviously didn't cross our theater of operations."

Glasses are raised and sips about to be taken when a fist hits the bar, preceding a shout to the bartender, "Vodka, straight."

Eyes raise to the sight of Captain Borovsky with a bruise across his cheek and a slight tear on the sleeve of his jacket. His hair, beard and all, remains perfectly maintained.

"What the hell happened to you?"

Borovsky looks to the admiral and says, "Ah, Good day, admiral. The weather is quite good, da?"

"Captain, answer the question."

"Ah, I was just... how you say, enjoying the local flavor when the police, they arrive and not enjoy the party so much."

Alexander lowers his head and Levin smiles, "How much trouble?"

"Eh, I would not make known my presence. Perhaps I spend more time on other planets."

Alexander's head remains low as he smiles, while the other two laugh aloud at the Russian now receiving his drink. Borovsky takes a seat and the three continue to enjoy their bull session as they await the final arrivals for whatever meeting they were soon to take part in.

(DS Roleplay /Orbital Trade Station Above the Second Moon of Finley 4 , Finley System)






Part Forty Eight of Teir -

-Teal

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=stgsEP_7E0g

Sere-

Cold Run-

November 23th, 2287 (11.23.2287.8)

As the sun came up over the horizon of the world, just touching the edge of the moon below, sliding in long bright shafts of light through the glass expanses of the windowed walls of the Trade station it was easier not to be afraid. Just when she had thought she was so grown up, here she was afraid of walking down onto a planet populated with humans.

Maybe she wasn't as grown up as she hoped.

With the sunlight, the guards came back into the waiting area and the barred gate closures slid back up into the ceiling, a soft hiss sounding on the air as they disappeared and the slits in the ceiling sealed closed. People gathered themselves and their belongings up and moved in small and scattered groups to the gated windows where the guards stood, guns in their holsters and stun batons in hand, their eyes scanning over the crowd as the passengers crowded toward the gates.

Id's were scanned, faces compared to the id's, to the listings on the manifests of the ships, the baggage was searched, and the people stood arms outstretched and turned in circles while the guards smoothed scan rods over them. It was slow work and the tired people waited their turns. Then finally after they were screened they passed through the gates in small trickles into the lobby area beyond the doors in the far wall toward the ships that would take them down to the surface.

Slowly the crowd began to make its way through.

The com at the shoulder of one of the guards at the gate squawked and a low voice came over the small speaker, the guard nodded, pressing the switch and speaking back, then he looked up, his eyes roaming over the milling people as they crowded forward.

Pris watched him and as his gaze circled toward her, she turned her face away.

She bent then suddenly as he started forward through the milling groups of people, running her hands over the steel floor as if she was looking for something she had dropped, glancing left and right as people moved around her.

What was he looking for?

They had taken Kindra and Teal, had either said anything? Were they now looking for her?

The strength she had felt with the sunlight had evaporated, leaving only a small panic that was getting larger as she scrambled to hide herself.

What was she going to do?

She kept her head down and in a half crouch, she ran for the wall to her left, ten feet from her a little girl with her hand in her mother's hand walked slowly, turning her head as Pris went by and then looked up and asked her mother in a loud voice, “Mommy what is that girl doing?”

The woman began to turn towards her child, when the guard who had started the other way swiveled back, his eyes snapping to the child, the small girl's other hand pointing off toward the wall. He looked back toward the gate saying something to two of the four other guards at the gate, who nodded and stepped away to follow him.

Pris came up against the wall and gave a quick look back, beyond the wall of cloaks and shoulders of the people moving forward she could see the orange uniforms and black helmets of the guards. Ahead of her a an old woman moved slow through the crowd at the edge of the wall, Pris stood up then, looking back where the first guard pushed through the crowd. He looked straight into her eyes and she ducked and sprinted along the wall, the hood of her cloak falling back.

The guard pushed through hard, knocking a man down as he pushed against the wall and then ran along the edge of the wall.

“Everyone STOP!” he yelled out then, slipping the baton into the corded loop at his belt and pulled his gun with his other black gloved hand.

He had been security long enough to know when someone ran it meant something. Dispatch had simply wanted them to patrol the crowd and keep everyone going where they were meant to go. But the girl had run when she had seen him.

Couldn't be a good thing that, it usually meant they were up to something.

He couldn't count the number of times people had simply run when they saw him. And everyone he had caught had been doing something they weren't supposed to.

You get a hard criminal, they could look you in the face and smile and lie and not twitch at all. It was the one's that weren't normally criminals at all that did something and then spooked.

The edge of the crowd around him ground slowly to a halt as people began to turn and looked to see what was happening. A woman and a smaller girl in hooded cloak kept moving along the wall.

The guard sprinted forward his finger moving to the safety of the gun in his hand as he moved up to the two, putting out his other hand, he grasped the shoulder of the younger girl and turned her around. As she turned the hood fell back and a bright white eyed blond girl looked up at him. The mother was half turning toward her child, her hand half reaching for the guard, eyes half closing to reach out with her mind and seize the guard's mind, when his hand dropped away from the girl's shoulder.

The mother stopped.

“I thought...” he said as the other guards pushed through the people around them, up beside him.

As he turned away, scanning against the edge of the wall for the girl in the hooded cloak, the mother opened her eyes and let her hand fall back at her side. She did not speak the smattering of English-spanish-german dialect that the humans on the outer worlds used, and she was not about to think directly at him to ask. He moved away, and the danger to her daughter was over. He had mistook them for someone else.

She pulled back the mental dart she had formed in her mind and let it dissipate in the soft recesses at the back of her consciousness.

She pushed a comforting thought to her daughter and turned away from the man as he moved away, tugging at her child gently to get out of the way of the other guards as they pushed toward the first. Stepping slowly again as the edge of the crowd began to move again toward the gates.

Pris crept to the edge of the enclosure, to a roped off area that held pallets of baggage and crouched down behind a trash container that stood against the wall. It offered some small measure of concealment. She held her breath and pulled in on herself as the guard suddenly appeared at the wall and moved past the rope into the baggage area, his head slowly turning. The others came up alongside him as he stepped up against the edge of one of the pallets, the trash container no more then 6 steps from where he stood.

He motioned for the others to move forward when the speaker at his shoulder squawked again. He listened and then pressed the button and said one word back.

“No.”

The speaker squawked with the low drone of the distant voice, the guard listened, then nodded.

“All right.”

He turned towards the others, holstering his gun and motioning them back with a black gloved hand.

“Let's move out.”

The others, spread out in the back roped off area stopped and turned then and began to move back toward the gate. The first guard waited a bit more, his gloved hands tapping at the holstered gun, his gaze impatiently glancing back and forth over the palleted baggage area and then finally he turned away and followed his men.

Pris, behind the trash container finally breathed and stayed where she was, feeling the mans consciousness begin to dim as he walked away. It was not until he had finally gotten to the gate itself that she moved in a slow crouch out from behind the container and the wall toward one of the pallets and slid under several of the bags that rested on the bottom covered with other bags and cases and boxes that had been tied and taped and bore the swirl of Advent script on their sides declaring owner and destination.

She waited.

*

*

*

It was not a long wait, perhaps only an hour. But before even all the milling flux of people had moved through the gates the back wall slid back and a storage walker moved through, pinchers and metal braced legs clanking slowly over the steel floor and began lifting the pallets into it's huge arms and then turning back and moving through the dark space behind the wall to the storage areas beyond.

When the pallet that Pris had hidden herself on suddenly lifted, the bags slipping with the sudden movement, she pressed herself flat against the hard surface of the plastic pallet as the bags shifted above her and dug into her back and arms, as it rose into the air and then shifted as the machine turned on it's thick legs and then moved forward, each thud of it's powerful legs reverberating along the floor and through it's metal frame and across the pallet as she lay quiet, not daring to move or make any sound at all.

With her face pressed into the dusty pallet she reached out with her mind.

'Where are you Sere...'

The machine disappeared through the opening in the wall into the half dark beyond the waiting area, continuing its plodding way across the storage bay.

When the machine came to a jerking stop, she felt the pallet tip, the bags shifted again, sliding back away from her as the machine lowered the pallet to the floor withdrawing it's pinchers and stepping back before it turned on those massive metal legs in one smooth turn then started back toward the open wall perhaps 300 meters distant.

Slowly Pris extricated herself from the cover of baggage and rubbed at her back and stood up. The room was barely lit, only half shadows from dim orange lights that lined the edge of the ceiling against the walls in broken lines.

She reached out with her mind and slowly turned in a small circle, reaching...

Somewhere in here...

Somewhere...

Ahhh...

She smiled.

'There you are.'

She strode forward across the dark steel floor in her slippered feet, moving toward the back wall until she came to a door inset into a sealed frame.

Sere was somewhere beyond.

There were no other stray thoughts near her, no one in whatever lay beyond, room or hallway. She pulled at the wheel handle that worked the lock of the door and tugged at it, clenching her teeth and pulling with all her weight, all the strength she had in her thin arms...

The handle began to turn slowly, and then half way through its arc, more easily, finally stopping as a green light came on above the door. She pulled open the door and then slid out pulling it closed behind her, turning the outside handle until it stopped and the light above blinked back into the red.

She was in a hallway. It was empty.

Across the hall was another door.

She glided on slippered feet across the smooth floor to it and tugged at the handle, it began to turn slowly when she caught a thought, down a hallway she couldn't see a door clanged open and then back.

A guard was coming!

She frantically pulled at the handle and finally got it open then ducked inside pulling it closed and began to turn the handle hard back.

The steps of the man came around the corner then as the handle stopped in her hands and the light blinked back red.

She held her breath waiting. What if the guard had seen the light change?

The steps came closer.

And closer.

Then moved past. She began to breathe again then, slumped against the door she peered out into the darkness of the second storage area. It was a copy of the first, pallets upon pallets stacked on the floor receding into the half dark as far as the room lay.

She moved into the dim light, reaching out with her mind.

'Sere...'

'Where are you...?'

As she moved away from the door her foot moved through a sensor beam breaking it, in an office six stories above her an indicator light began to blink on a panel below a vid screen. The guard on duty looked up from a cup of coffee he held and stared at the screen as her image moved across the half dim room. He reached down and pressed a key, then swiveled in his chair toward the com panel set opposite and reached for the mic.

“We have an unauthorized person in the storage area on level 4, fourth floor security to bay 4-12, it looks like whoever it is, is unarmed, but proceed with caution.”

When he swiveled the chair back to the screen a green gas was jetting into the bay and alarm sirens were silently spinning immersing the room in a red and black slide show off and on. Off and on.

*

*

*

With the gas jetting above her Pris ran, lowering her head and pulling her scarf up over her mouth and nose, sprinting across the dark between the pallets as the doors at the four centers of the walls snapped open and orange uniformed guards spilled in with masks over their faces connected to small breathing tanks across their backs. Shutters on the outside windows cycled down and locked.

She skidded to a stop as one of the guards raised a rifle and ducked as a spray of bullets ratcheted off in a burst of red flaring light and sound. The floor pinged with the impact of the slugs and a bag to her right jerked with sudden holes tearing into its black surface.

'There he is'

'Where did he go?'

'Move slowly, form a circle, he can't get out now.'

She ducked again, creeping as quickly as she could without making too much noise, but the swirling red lights above her, the gas pushing in from the nozzles against the ceiling meant she couldn't play a mewling outsmarting the long teeth for too long.

She moved between the bags piled atop the pallets, left then right, then left again.

The guards were closing in.

It was only a matter of minutes before they would have her.

Pris stopped at one of the pallets, pulling one of the bags at the edge out and moving her fingers over the seal that closed it, the bag sagged open as she smoothed her fingers across the seal, clothes and shoes spilled out at her feet.

She looked up then, they were closer now and there was nothing she could use to get out.

She slipped over to another bag, opening it quickly, nothing.

Then another.

'Where...?'

'Don't worry, he can't get out, just close in slow.'

She dashed across the floor between the stacks, half crouched at another pallet, at the edge, under several bags was a metal tool box, she ran her fingers across the edge of the seal and the top popped up. Inside lay a host of hand tools used to repair household fixtures.

She smiled as she reached down and took several of the wrenches in her hands, then rose and turned left and ran for the far wall.

As her shadowed form came up over the tops of the bags stacked on the pallets two of the guards on that side raised their guns and fired.

She slid to a quick stop and turned, pulling her arm back in a long arc she threw one of the wrenches at one of the guards.

The wrench spun through the semi darkness and then slammed into the shoulder of one of the men. He yelled out and dropped his gun as he fell forward to his knees and felt at his shoulder with his other hand.

'What!?'

'Get that bastard!'

Pris ran, ducking under the tops of the bags on the pallets and then skidded to a stop again, raising up, she turned as the man's focused thoughts gave her a target and threw another wrench. It missed, sailing out into the half dark to clang on the steel floor.

'Haha, missed me...' came a thought.

She ran again, turning a corner at one of the pallets she almost slipped, her feet skidding out from under her, she jerked out a hand and grabbed at one of the bags across the top of the pallet and half fell, falling down to one knee. She stumbled to her feet and kept running.

Again at one of the pallets she slid to a quick stop, the metal floor underneath her slippered feet traitorously giving little purchase and focused her mind. The guards on this side close to her were no more than ten yards distant, she tired to clear her mind, emptying it, and felt a spike of thoughts suddenly blossom in her mind.

'When I find him, I'm going to...'

She pulled her arm back, the wrench resting in her hand and stood up and threw it. It sailed across the dark space and struck the man in the face, he yelled out, clutching his gloved hand to his broken mask as he fell back.

As he fell, she turned and ran, but suddenly quick arms caught at her, pulling her up off her feet. She kicked and growled as she was hoisted up enveloped in the larger man's arms.

“I thought it might be one of your kind...” he hissed as he turned her and then his eyes widened under his mask as her face turned toward him and her hood fell back.

“...You... your just a ...” he got out, as she wriggled in his grasp and turned her face down against his arm and bit.

The man yelled out and threw her away from him.

“Little brat, what did you-” he hissed and stumbled back.

Pris fell hard on a pile of baggage atop a pallet and slid off its side onto the floor, scrambling up and running for the far wall.

Her hands slammed into the steel frame of a window seal and she slid sideways to her left and found herself against a junction box, long strands of cables dangling in loops that fed into the side of the black box.

She grabbed at the cables and pulled, hacking at them with her remaining wrench, the cables sparked below her hand where she held it, pulling, slamming the wrench into the arc where the cables turned and went into the smooth rounded slot into the metal box.

The guard she had bit stood up slowly, the others moved behind him closing the distance.

“You little-”

She slammed the wrench again into the cables and felt them tear loose from the box in her hand, then she ran for one of the pallets, dragging the cables behind her, as her feet gained the purchase of the plastic pallet she leaned down and pressed the ragged, exposed wire tips of the cables to the metal floor.

The red lights in the ceiling popped and went out. The guards themselves were yelling, and started firing their guns, as she could hear them fall and thump against the flooring. One of the soldiers guns burst in an arc of red lit flaring fire across the room and then climbed higher as the man fell back, red light of the ratcheting gunfire arcing across the open space and then striking a group of sealed canisters along the top right of the room.

The metal drums pinged as the bullets struck and pierced them, and then exploded in a sudden flare of white-yellow light and fire.

Liquid spilled to the floor and fire dripped with it.

In a moment the fire was raging against the far wall, lighting the bay in an undulating weave of light and shadow.

The machinery at the junction box sparked and then stilled.

The nearest gunman who had come within six feet of her that had fallen onto his back jerking stilled, his head falling over to his left, his face underneath his mask pulled back in a hard grimace, though his eyes reflected back only reflected light, and did not move at all.

Pris tentatively reached out a hand then, feeling at the floor with her outstretched fingertips. But felt only the cold metal of the floor. The current was drained, the machinery dead. She dropped the cables then and ran reaching out with her mind, but the soldiers minds were dark. Where was Sere?

Where was...

She skidded to a stop and turned to her left then, crossing between two pallets and three guards that had come this way, two now lay on their backs with their arms wide, one still clutching at the rifle in his hand. The other had lost his and had been attempting to claw his mask off when his consciousness had dwindled down to a pinpoint and winked out. The third lay over a pallet of bags on his stomach, his face pressed down into the mass of it.

The gas jets had stopped, the alarm sirens silent. The room now bathed only in that white-yellow light of the fire against the far wall.

Pris stepped past the one laying over the bags on the pallet and the two on the floor on their backs, through a space between the two pallets and saw Sere's casket sitting on a pallet of its own.

She moved quickly to it and knelt down, sliding her fingertips at the edges where the top sealed against the side. The seal opened at her touch and the top slid back in a tipping movement that moved it over the edge of the casket down along the opposite side, where it stopped.

Pris rose up onto her feet and looked down at the still form of Sere, silent with eyes closed, her skin pale and half her head shaved in the proscribed way of the Twelve, the twelve silver bells on slender leather cords in her hair that draped down alongside her cheek and rested against her neck.

Pris sighed inside herself, though she spared a quick glance across the bay toward the fire that was swelling even larger now.

She didn't have much time.

She closed her eyes and fought for a few difficult minutes to calm herself, to find that necessary silence and peace, emptying her mind and then feeling the copy of Sere's consciousness nestled in the back of her own mind swell.

She leaned over the casket then and pressed her fingertips against Sere's temples and felt as the copy of the consciousness in her own mind reached out and touched the mind of Sere resting in the casket beneath her.

There was a spark of light in her mind that turned white, flaring into a brilliance that dwarfed even the reality of the fire and the soldiers and the station around her.

*

*

*

She had been born in the Hive, the white painted dome that lay beyond the convent proper. The Attendings had delved her immediately, even before they washed the blood from her... even before they had cut the cord that still joined her to her mother.

The child screamed and cried out in the thin white walled circular room as their minds clove into her nascent mind.

Her mother was screaming!

Crying...

The Attendings turned, cold eyed and moved out from the edge of the tube and lowered the baby girl from hands to hands down to others that waited in white below. Faces like unmovable masks with white eyes inset into cold ice.

The child could see, moved and cried out.

But the child's mind was blind.

She could not 'see'.

She was 'Unseen'.

A Worker.

The Attendings took her to another cell tube, down the long central corridor of the dome where thousands of others were being born at that same time, where she was connected to an adult worker by intravenous tubing and sealed in.

Her first year was spent in the hive with her surrogate mother, then she was moved again, separated from the adult who returned to Attending, cycling through the roles of birther and provider, to the open village beyond the dome where children were raised by the thousands with their 'Teachers'.

Sleeping in a bay with a thousand other girls in beds around her, playing and eating and learning, as they grew into young women.

It was only the boys who had 'Families', small single domes that held only three or four people at a time. The drones were different, their function different, their training different.

When she was five, she attended school and was processed for a 'function'.

The females were different. Their functions were determined later, in stages that moved them toward what the overseers had determined.

The drones all had a single function, and no such determination was necessary.

Only the privileged among the 'Seen' had functions determined by their families.

The others...

The others were raised according to tradition, as had been handed down since the great exile.

Sere learned and grew.

And in time became a young woman, blind and obedient and subservient to the will of the 'Seen'.

As it had been for centuries of those who had come before her.

*

*

*

Pris blinked her eyes and opened them, The fire covered now the whole of the far wall and was spreading, pallet by pallet across the space between.

As Pris moved her hands away, Sere's eyes snapped open and she sat straight up gasping, her hands going to the edges of the casket for support as she tilted her head back and screamed, her lips pulling back in a rictus pull of skin against her teeth.

The woman pulled at the air, getting slow aching strands of air into her lungs before she leaned forward and threw up, spittle spilling over her lips and down her chin to her white dress. Pris leaned in again and placed her hands on the woman's cheek and back, and at her touch felt the sudden flaming ache and scream of the flesh underneath. Pris gritted her teeth hard, biting into her lip as she fought to find the empty silence inside herself.

The woman in the casket trembled, shaking and shivering as the muscles spasmed under the skin.

Slowly, by degrees, the trembling faded, as Pris found the silence and poured her calm into the woman.

Finally she focused her eyes and turned her head, looking at the young girl beside the casket and tried to smile.

“Pris...” she said in a slow and aching voice that strained at newly used vocal cords.

“Sere...” Pris smiled back, wiping at the blood that ran down her lip and then looked up again as the fire moved across the pallets, half the room was now consumed and the smoke was heavy and swirling around them.

“We have to get out of here Sere.” Pris pulled at the woman's arm, pulling her slowly to her feet, she gave her scarf to Sere and removed her cloak and wiped at the vomit that covered the lower part of the woman's dress.

“It... isn't... important.” Sere said stepping unsteadily over the edge of the casket to the smooth surface of the pallet, catching her balance by holding onto the casket wall and Pris holding her hand guided her down off the pallet across the floor toward one of the doors.

The lock was sealed and now beyond opening with the power in the bay gone. Pris tugged at the woman gently though urgently trying to find something else, somewhere else, where they might be able to find an exit.

She stumbled with her cloak over her nose and mouth, half crouching to avoid the smoke that swirled above them, pulling at Sere as gently as she could, but still almost running.

“We have to-” Pris said and then she saw the shutter against the window that had come down, but a corner had bent on the frame there, one of the blinds was bent back and showed the glass beyond.

She turned making for the window, dragging Sere after her as carefully as she could so that the woman did not lose her tremulous newly gained balance.

“There!”

She moved to the wall and to the shutter, releasing Sere's hand. The woman sagged and then put out a hand to steady herself against the wall. The shutter was broken, and pulled up almost 12 inches from the panel below it exposing the glass. Beyond the glass lay black and stars.

“Damn!”

Pris turned, “Stay here.” and then ran back along the wall to one of the doors. She slid to a stop and looked at it, pulled at the handle inset into its center, but nothing happened.

“Damn, damn!” She hissed.

Then sprinted further along that wall toward the next door.

It was the same.

The other two doors were too close to the flames to consider checking, but she felt in her bones it would be the same. Without the power, there was nothing she could do to open the doors.

She stood for a moment, firelight flickering off her face as she stared not at the door, but through it. Open and cold space beyond.

But the guards...

The guards!

She swiveled then sprinting across the floor between the pallets until she found one of the guards laying on the floor. The mask was intact and the tubing to the air tank as well. She pulled off the mask, then struggled with the air tank in the harness slipped over the man's shoulders. She had to strain to push him over on his side and pull off one of the straps, before she had to reverse it and pull him over onto his other side to get at the other strap and finally get the tank off his back.

She stared for a moment into the man's blank eyes as the mask came off and she rolled him onto his back.

“I'm sorry...” she said, “I didn't want it to be like this...”

She tugged at the sealed front of the man's orange slip over suit then, pulling back the seal and opening the flaps of it and pulling until she had it down around his hips, where she had to work to raise him, first on one side and then the other to get the uniform off him. She bundled up his mask and uniform then underneath one arm and grabbed the man's gun laying next to him and then ran back down the wall to Sere.

Smoke swirled and was getting thicker.

Sere, half sat on her knees, her legs pulled up under her leaning on the wall, with Pris's scarf pressed over her nose and mouth.

“Sere.” Pris said as she came up on her and knelt down, the woman didn't respond.

Pris yelled at the woman, “SERE!”

The woman stirred and turned her head toward the girl.

“Can you get into these? I have to get another, hurry, the fire is getting closer and the smoke will be down to the floor level in just a bit, we have to hurry!”

The woman nodded weakly and pushed herself upright and took the uniform and mask, pulling the scarf off and dropping it to the floor and pulling the mask over her face. Pris slipped the edges of the harness straps over the woman's shoulders and turned at the valve on the front of the mask that fed into it.

A rush of oxygen pushed into the mask and Sere's eyes blinked with the swell of it.

“Good, get into the uniform, I will be back!” Pris half rose then and ran straight out into the pallets then, the other soldiers were closer than going back up along the wall.

It took time to find another in the smoke and longer to get his mask and uniform off. She was panting coming through the smoke to the wall, only able to find her way by following Sere's flickering thoughts. The woman was still seated, though she had managed to get into the uniform. The boots were ill fitting, though they were sealed against the pant legs and the gloves were over sized for her, but they were functional at least.

Pris dropped the mask and uniform and began to strip off her blouse and skirt, dropping them to the floor and grabbing at the mask and pulling it over her face. Then the uniform, which fitted her even more ill fitting than with Sere. Though with the mask in place and the suit sealed it didn't matter if it fit or not.

Pris knelt next to Sere and looked through the face plate into the woman's eyes, flickering and drained, exhausted. But the woman was pulling air in at a regular pace and was able to stand with no help. Pris smiled,

“Good.” She said and patted her hand against the woman's shoulder and then eyed the window and half closed shutter.

“I need something to tie us down. If I can blow that window its going to get real hectic in here real quick and we had better be tied down or all of this will have been for nothing.”

Sere turned her head and nodded to the girl.

Pris rose and ran along the wall again, her form melting into the smoke, disappearing from view almost instantly. Flame and light brightened and dimmed in the smoke. It was impossible to tell how close it was now. Except to assume it was almost upon them.

After what seemed too long, the heat of the fire swelling through the smoke that now surrounded them and obscured even the shuttered window and wall from them Pris came back down the wall, pulling a length of cable with her, she had managed to hack a length of it from the panel and brought it with her, she used it to tie first Sere and then herself to the braces embedded in the wall frame and then stood and pressed the gun barrel to the window itself between the broken shutter panels.

“Here goes nothing, huh?”

She wanted to smile, but she didn't.

Instead she pulled her mouth down into a grimace and pulled the trigger of the gun.

*

*

*

The window exploded outward with the staccato burst of gunfire and the shutter ripped and then tore as it was pulled out through the rent. Baggage from the pallets lifted as if on invisible fingers and drove for the rent where the escaping air was jetting into the void. A pallet lifted and careened, turning as it sailed across the open space with traces of smoke and flame around it to smash into the window frame and wedge there. Then another and another rose, turning, twisting in the current of escaping air. One of the bodies of the guards lifted then out of the thinning smoke and flew across the space and through the rent and was gone.

Pallets rose and twisted behind but then fell to the floor as the last of the air fled and the fire clawed at the last of it and then finally went out.

Pris stood slowly, releasing her hold on the brace and glanced back to make sure Sere was still ok, the woman shook her head, but then raised her hand with a thumb up.

The girl moved around the wedged pallet to the window and went over the edge in slow motion, holding onto the window frame and then out, the cable trailing behind her. As she went through the window Sere stood shakily and lifted herself on the edge of the window frame and followed.

They were outside the station here, moving vertically down the long wall, tied to the black cable in a string from one to the other and to the brace inside the bay. They moved down, toward another window in the distance below.

The two women pulled at the air through the masks against the sealed hoods of their suits and moved slowly down, hands moving over the edges of the outside paneling they were using as hand holds.

As they moved, Pris could see shadows of running soldiers in the hallway below them through the window below.

'What now?' She thought, but then reluctantly remembered that Sere could not hear her sending.

She turned, flipping completely around in the weightless void and pushed back toward the woman now above her, pressing her mask against the woman's and yelling.

“Soldiers.”

Sere nodded slowly, but continued, moving around Pris toward the window below, taking the gun from Pris's fingers gently and moving down toward the sliver of glass window and the reflected shadows of the running soldiers streaming through the hallway. No doubt on their way to the level above them where the burnt and ruined bay awaited them.

How long before they opened the seals on the locked doors and found the two women on the outside like little orange ducklings waiting at the edge of a lake?

How long did they have?

Perhaps only minutes then until they were found.

“Damn!” Pris hissed to herself and pulled faster down the wall following Sere.

Sere was one of the 'Twelve', but what could even one of the 'Twelve' do trapped on the outside of a station in orbit with soldiers running the hallways below?

*

*

*

As Sere moved lower, the stream of soldiers thinned, the shadows spacing themselves in longer spaces of white light between them. She edged down, lower, with Pris pressing almost against her heels along the side of the window frame where she could still see the shadows and then the boots running along the white corridor, without being seen herself.

She turned her head and by accident or fateful grace caught a glimpse of a wink of light. Moving then further from the windows top edge she turned her body sideways in the space above the window toward the glint and saw the circular wheel of a lock handle in the light from the window.

Below in the dark, beside the window a lock sat, embedded in the thick wall.

There was a space of perhaps ten feet from the edge of the window to the lock handle, the metal of the outside wall was smooth here, not the paneled ridged edges that had allowed them easy purchase in their descent.

They would have to jump for it, hoping to catch the latch, or to float out and away from the station itself. If Sere missed it was likely she would pull Pris with her, and then either the cable would break against the upper edge of the window above against the broken glass and the edge of the windowed sill, or the soldiers would find them.

Sere drew in a deep breath and bent her leg, pressing her foot to the outside wall and lifted her head and tried to gauge the angle of the half hidden handle in the dark.

She remembered the window sill then of the building when she had run from the red banded youths in Petrograd. How thin had that sill been? She hadn't thought, she had simply moved. Though even there she had the grace of gravity.

She half smiled and pressed her foot hard into the wall and looked up again at the glint of light off the handle and then pushed as hard as she could.

She moved out, away from the windowed edge, deeper into the darkness, reaching out with her awkwardly gloved hands as she seemed to float in agonizingly slow inch by inch degrees. The cable grew taut behind her and pulled her out, away from the wall, she glanced back and saw Pris push her foot down hard on the wall and push out, the cable slackened as Pris floated out behind her. A glint caught Sere's eye and she snapped her head back front as the handle came into shadowed relief. She reached out, her fingers stretching, but she was not close enough.

Her momentum continued to push her out from the wall and the lock and she screamed in her mask, reaching...

reaching...

Suddenly she twisted as Pris moved by her out further from the wall and shoved her leg forward and caught the handle on the top of her boot, but then the cable grew taut again and her foot slipped and she started to drift out away from the door.

“Damn!” she screamed in her mask again and then turned herself, releasing the gun and letting it drift away from her, pulling at the cable that connected her to Pris, pulling at it and hauling the girl towards her.

They floated in an agonizingly slow turn, drifting further out, when Sere drew the last of the cable between them to her and Pris fell against her. She grabbed the girl then and twisted, drifting slowly around til she could see the wall again and then she shoved Pris toward the door as hard as she could.

Pris drifted in a straight line closer.

Closer.

But then the cable grew taut between them, and Pris screamed!

Reaching out with her hand...

and felt it close over the handle of the lock.

The girl clutched at the handle and pulled herself closer.

Sere on the end of the taut cable stopped and floated as Pris worked at the handle, trying to use her weight where is was impossible to use.

But finally the handle did turn, slowly. The mechanism inside the door turned, sliding back, and the door opened, moving in a slow arc out. As the door swung out, Pris lost her hold, and drifted back, she clawed back to catch it as she moved back away from the door, her fingers closing over the edge of the door's seal lip.

Sere floated.

If she pulled on the cable between them she would only dislodge Pris. She floated in the dark at the end of the thin wire and hoped.

Pris moved her hands forward slowly, from edge to edge inside the door to the inside handle and then into the lock itself, where she twined the length of cable between her and Sere around the inside handle and began pulling Sere in slowly.

Pris's feet floated off the floor of the inside lock, but she still pulled at the cable as she floated up and against the door frame and then again out beyond it.

When Sere reached her the woman pushed hard off the door's edge and into the lock grasping Pris's arm and pulling her back in.

Sere's boots touched the floor inside the lock and she pressed her boots hard against the floor and pulled Pris to her.

The two of them leaned back against the cable twined about the lock handle and slowly pulled the door closed.

When they had secured the door they fell back in weightless free fall toward the floor, where they rolled over onto their backs as the chamber cycled and air pushed into the lock and the spin of the station itself brought back a semblance of weight.

When the red light above the outside lock door blinked back on, the two pulled the masks from their faces and groaned as they moved to stand up, stripping the uniforms off. Sere moved to the inside lock that connected to the inside of the station and waited as Pris finished removing the orange coverall and stood in her underclothes.

“Damn I don't want to EVER do that again!” Pris hissed as she started for the inner door and Sere. The woman smiled and nodded but said nothing.

The body always fought not to die, but she had died so many times by now, that the thought or experience of it didn't touch her mind at all any more.

Outside in the corridor or room beyond there was silence. Pris confirmed it when she came to the door and closed her eyes, reaching out with her mind.

It was indeed empty.

The soldiers had moved on. Perhaps already moving into the storage bay above them.

The two women pushed the handle of the door open and clambered through into the hallway beyond, sliding the door closed behind them.

*

*

*

“Dispatch, Alpha Seven here, we have secured the storage bay on 4-12, the fire up here was contained and did not spread to the other bays. There are some guards down here that look like they didn't get out when the fire hit. I don't know what security was doing in here, you might want to check on that. Most of the passengers baggage is going to be a write off, though the bay itself is only moderately damaged. There is no power down here, and we have a seal plate over an outside window that was blown out. It looks like something smashed into it before the shutter finished closing. There is cable and debris strewn everywhere down here, but it looks like its going to be ok. Get some medical and maintenance crews down here when you can. Alpha Seven out.”

*

*

*

Sere moved forward down the white corridor, Pris following close behind. They hadn't seen anyone in the last half hour that they had navigated the hallways, moving up level by level at the junctures, moving as fast as they could along the lengths of them, and slowly at the outside shafts where the stairs ascended to the next level up.

Pris had moved ahead at those points, closing her eyes and reaching out trying to see if anyone was beyond.

They came along the last corridor below the lobby area and the storage bays she had originally entered when Pris suddenly stopped and turned back to Sere.

“There's Guards close, a lot of them.”

Sere nodded,

“And there is no other way, unless we go back down and try to go around the other side.”

Pris made a face and looked like she wanted to spit.

“Yes. And if we go forward we walk right into them.”

“Do we have a choice?” Sere looked at the young girl, astounded that she had managed so well on her own. Without her Sere would still be unconscious, or dead.

“I say we go back.” She looked the older woman in the eyes and drew her lips into a thin line. The fear of humans had resurfaced, clawing at her emotions now that the struggle just to get into and then out of the bay was over. Still, they were not out of the woods entirely. They were still on the station and now faced questions from Security if they were caught which might easily connect them with the fire and the damage above in the storage bay. She hadn't wanted to kill the guards that had come into the bay, but by that time she hadn't been thinking of anything except staying alive long enough to get Sere out. Now that she could take the time to think she was shaking and near to breaking down and wanted nothing more than to find a corner against a wall and curl up in a ball and cry her eyes out.

“If that is what you think best, but is there a chance we can we get past these others? If we can get to the level above perhaps we can make it to the lobby unseen?”

Pris hesitated, biting at her lip and opening the cut where she had bit herself before.

She didn't want to go up, but they were so very close.

Going back would mean going back down into the lower levels and it would take hours more. She shook as she tried to think, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and shaking. Sere moved to the girl and took her in her arms.

Pris didn't want to go back down.

She couldn't face that again.

It was too much like going through it all again.

She couldn't.

Couldn't.

“I... I can't go back... I know what I said... but I can't go back...”

Sere smoothed her hands over the girls hair, staring into the girls dirty face and tried to smile to reassure her.

“Its ok, we'll figure something out, ok?”

Pris leaned her face in against Sere's chest and nodded slow.

“Alright.”

The two women moved forward slowly, Sere holding Pris close as they rounded the corner of the corridor and to the door lock that led to the stairwell and the level above.

They were so very close.

Sere pushed open the door and stepped through holding Pris close to her. A guard came down the stairs and stopped above them, staring at them.

“What the hell are you doing down here?” He asked, then slid his rifle on the strap back over his back and came down the last set of stairs.

“Don't you know it's classified down here? We got offices and storage down here, why can't you simply wait topside for us to get it all unloaded like everyone else?”

If the guard thought them merely passengers who has lost their way... Sere thought, and stared at the man but said nothing, Pris pressed her face into Sere's side not even able to look at the man, she was still shaking, she was close to completely breaking down.

“Ahhh.... don't speak Spanglish then? It's OK, foreigners save me from them, I'll get you out, just don't come back down here ok? You got that? No Coming Down Here, yaknow?” The guard mouthed the last words slow, as if he was speaking to babies and came forward and glanced into Sere's eyes, she turned her face and then he looked hard at Pris, taking in her dirty face and red rimmed crying eyes, she was still shaking.

“Refugees, huh? Gotta be a hard life out there, can't even afford clothes. Look here, take my jacket,” The guard stripped off his over jacket and draped it slowly around Pris, who turned and peeked at him and rubbed at her nose.

The thought of all those other's that had died because of her suddenly made her cry again. She pressed her face back against Sere's side.

“Look, its going to be ok, you know, I mean you're not supposed to be down here, but look its not like a crime or anything, just you know, not cool. How are we supposed to do what we do with civilians running all over the place huh? Look, I'll walk you up, just don't you know, come back down here, ok?”

The guard turned then and motioned them up along the staircase to the top of the next landing, and pointed them toward the door beyond that led to the lobby area.

“Look, if you need some money, to get you know, like a ship down to the surface, I can like make a donation, you know. Here's ten credits, I know its not much, but its enough for two tickets down. You need something to eat or someplace to stay when you get surface side, just ask at the information desk at the terminal, they can set you up with those and it won't cost you. I've got a daughter myself, good girl, though she isn't quite as old as the little one here. Still I know what it means to worry over her. You take this money and get yourselves down and get someplace to stay and something to eat. Things will look a lot better after that.”

He smiled and pressed the folded bills into Sere's hand as he motioned them toward the lobby doorway.

Pris cried all the way to the doorway and beyond, out into the lobby to the ticket booth, where Sere bought tickets and then beyond, to the waiting ships where they boarded and Sere moved to a seat against the wall and sat with Pris next to her, with her arms still around the crying girl.

“It will be alright Pris,” she whispered, “it will be alright...”

As the engines of the ship rumbled underneath them, and the small ship jerked into its run down the long tubeway and then out, into the space above the green and blue world that lay below.

The ship turned sharp, dipping its wings vertically as it slid into atmosphere and fell down toward the planet.

Sere held Pris and smoothed the girls hair, whispered quietly and held her close.

It was only just beginning...

She thought.

Only just beginning.

As the ship fell, the moon sliding behind and the planet below rising up to meet them.

*

*

*

(DS Roleplay / Finley 1 , Finley System)






Part Forty Nine of Teir -

-Teal





http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pTOSwH8EANw

Sere-

Wait For Me-

November 23th, 2287 (11.23.2287.8.5)












    Clouds rushed up as the ship turned on its port wing and fell from high orbit, atmosphere screaming against the outside hull, heat spreading up from the down side of the ship to the nose as the ship straightened out in a near vertical dive for the surface.

The ship shook hard, like a mewling caught in a dragar's teeth. The Navigator's voice came over the cabin speakers in a brief squeal of static,

"Good evening, we will be landing momentarily at Tuilelaith City. Please remain in your seats and keep your seat harnesses on until the ship has come to a complete stop at the disembarkation terminal, Thank you."

The mic cut off, leaving only silence and the shuddering tremble of the hull walls.

Sere held Pris and soothed the girl's hair, she was still distraught over coming through the storage area of the Trade station, the poor girl seemed overcome by the loss of the guards. Sere remembered when even one death had seemed overwhelming. But that knowledge had been weakened over time.

Somehow, it had changed.

Sometimes now, it wasn't what it had been to her.

Before.

Sometimes now, death seemed a welcome thing.

She shook her head, the bells in her hair ringing softly against her cheek, and strands of her hair brushing against her lips, and stared out the window and the fire flaming against the steel and glass.

She could hardly remember now, when it hadn't been that way.

But she did remember, and so she soothed the girl as best she could, whispering softly and brushing her fingers through the girl's hair as the ship fell from orbit, the hull still shuddering around them.

Most of the other passengers seemed immune to the heaving deck underneath their feet, to the walls rippling and the various groans and screeching sounds that came from the ship, but not all.

A man in an aisle seat 4 rows down from Sere and Pris sat buckled in, but leaning over with his head in his trembling hands, he moaned softly and mumbled words that Sere could not quite catch. She wished for a moment that she could help him, but then of course, knew that she couldn't. She could only feel Nadera, and  Nadera was a dozen systems away, the thin pulse in the back of her mind only told her the woman was still alive. The man would have to get through on his own.

She turned from looking at the man to the window again. Fire raged inches beyond the window, flaring in red and yellow-white-blue tipped flames that streamed back along the length of the ship...

Death... was always so close...

She had never thought about how close...

before she had come to the clinic, before she had trained,

and then finally left Petrograd.

Now it seemed it was always just a moment away,

People died in transport crashes, falls from ladders, sometimes things as simple as stumbling during a run, stepping just a little too close to the edge of a building's edge twenty stories up...

People died in wars,

and assassinations,

and political maneuvering,

in dark alley's with alcohol hot on their breath and the slow shadows filling up the light as the man steps in, the knife in his hand glittering in the half light...

in hospitals, old and wrinkled hands clutching at the edges of white sheets while the night falls down and life,

ebbs away,

slow or quick.

But then gone.

Gone.

Over and done, black and empty nothingness.

Nothingness.

Leaving only those behind to remember or to try to put meaning to it all.

She raised her hand and rested it against the glass, inches away the fire burned, roared and screamed, the ship falling.

Falling.

What was left to love... ?

what was... ?

what... ?

She was crying.

Why?

Why was she... ?

She smoothed her hand over Pris's hair while the girl slept oblivious, as Sere had been oblivious when the girl had been stumbling about the storage bay fighting guards just to get to Sere.

There were still things left to love.

They just seemed crowded out by the need for revenge.

Just one more death then.

And then it would be over.

And what then?

If...

If they awakened her one more time,

after this,

then perhaps she could find something to love,

find Pris, and Kindra and Teal.

Was it possible to find a new life then?

After...

Afterward she would...

Pris stirred, her head in Sere's lap, and turned her face up and Sere could see the young girl's face, the closed eyes with her hair falling back and down against Sere's dress, curled in the blanket the steward had brought them. Her lips slightly apart as she breathed slowly, her small chest rising and falling.

Afterward then,

Sere could begin a new life.

A new...

Outside the flame against the window screamed and flared obscuring everything, everything but the fire itself.

She could begin again.

But not her,

Oh it would be someone with her face,

with her memories and feelings,

but it would be someone else,

it wouldn't be her.

She would be gone.

She would be...

She stared into the fire and cried,

the tears falling slowly down her face.
*
*
*

The terminal was half lit, the lights in the ceiling dimmed against the night beyond the glass doors that led out into the cold air and the cluster of lights of a city beyond as Sere guided Pris down the exiting escalator to the information desk in the center of the dim lobby, but there was no one there, an empty kiosk and black faced screens on the lower tier. The rotating sign above the desk was frozen in mid-turn, the lights dark. Sere looked around the terminal as thin groups exited onto the tarmac beyond the glass doors and waiting cars that whisked them away.

There were no terminal employees that she could see, they were alone then.

Branching from the lobby area a connecting corridor with brighter lights led to the baggage claim area.

She moved in that direction, her arm around Pris, the girl seemed barely able to walk on her own, tired and emotionally exhausted. Sere tried to smile, but she was just as tired. But sleep meant losing time. She had been awake for three hours now, which left only two days and some hours. Too short.

But perhaps enough time.

Perhaps.

She hoped.

She had been told the alien would be here. The alien general.

All she needed was to find him.

Once she did, then what she needed to do would only take a few minutes.

Long enough to get to him.

Through whatever she had to get through,

to get to him.

And weapons could be anything she could get her hands on.

She looked around her as they came slowly through the corridor, the lights above in their brackets were easily removed, the metal brace that acted as a guide rail along the wall could be torn from its hinges, the glass of the wall that ran the length of the corridor itself shattered.

Anything could be a weapon.

Anything at all.

All she needed was to get close enough to him.

And then it would be done.

Done.

And then...?

And then what?

After that if the woman with her name and face came back, then that other woman could live a different life.

One perhaps without the need for revenge.

And that other woman could rest and laugh and be happy.

They came to the machine that spun the bags and suitcases, boxes tied with rope and thin loose suit bags around in a long oval around the irises in the ceiling that disgorged their contents in uneven pushes through rubber flaps and down angled ramps to the moving belts below.

Their bags took some time to find, Pris's were grouped together, red bands on the handles were easily seen and then moved off the belt. Sere's with white bands came down almost twenty minutes later, one and then ten minutes later the last. Sere moved the heavy bags off the belt and onto a carrier moving delicately through the small crowd still gathered and collecting their belongings. Most of the passengers had already come and gone, the terminal was almost empty now, except for those at the belts and a few stragglers coming down the white lit tubed corridor.

"Come on Pris, it will be ok, we will find something, some place to stay, it will be ok. Okay?" She smiled at the girl, though she didn't know how long it might take to find someone who might help them.

They crossed the corridor back to the empty lobby and Sere took Pris to a band of benches along the inner wall and sat the girl down on the thin and hard plastic bench. Sere eased herself down next to the girl and ran a hand across the girl's cheek.

"It won't be long, just lay on me and get some rest, then we will find something."

The girl half smiled, tired and nodded and lay against Sere, her eyes closing quickly.

Sere smoothed the girl's hair and whispered softly, humming a slow song underneath her breath.

 "Goodnight Sweetheart..."

She smiled.

Even though she was bone tired, and settled back against the back of the hard plastic bench, smoothing her fingers through the girl's hair.

"Goodnight..."

She whispered.

In the quiet of the empty terminal lobby.

A slow chill crept into the thin air, and she pulled the blanket up around Pris, then leaned back against the bench back again.

And waited for morning.
*
*
*

(DS RP)

Admiral Alexander arrives at a transport, engines billowing with heat as it stands ready to take off, and approaches the open hatch on the rear. As he enters, he hands off a group of items to a nearby officer and proceeds into the vessel. The nearby officers follow him into the craft while the ground crew wrap up their tasks, the vehicle growing louder and louder as it prepares to depart. Inside, the admiral leans over to a nearby officer, "Have the pilot take us directly to the David."

"Yes, sir," the reply comes before the man attends to a communications panel, transmitting the order.

The transport makes its way beyond the atmosphere, coming to the David where Alexander, amongst a small number, depart the vessel. He proceeds to the bridge, men surprised by his appearance and stopping to salute as he hastily makes his way past. Upon arriving, Lieutenant Sokolow rises from the admiral's seat, announcing, "Admiral on the bridge."

"At ease, lieutenant," he says, proceeding to take the chair from her.

Sokolow proceeds to another station as Alexander continues to give orders, "Have our engineering crews meet up with the crews from the Red Dragon Army. We have some communication issues that need to be attended to, so see to it that the techs and security are up to speed."

"Yes, sir," she replies once again before executing her assignment.

Meanwhile, Levin traipses about the terminal on the planet, inputting information into his communication device to Lieutenant Commander Harari, giving her the good news that a delay will allow her to finish running a few calculations and still make up more than her share of vacation hours. As he looks up from his last outgoing message, he spies Lord J'rah being escort b a handful of people, the Vasari aristocrat stumbling about, his limp extremities dancing about with disorientation. Levin smiles at the sight, shaking his head as he turns away from the scene.

 We're not the only Advent here... commented Thenos as the shuttle bearing him, Teldin, and their bodyguard to the planet's surface.

So you noticed too, then? Teldin responded.

What do you think?

Hmm... Teldin seemed deep in thought, their presence is barely noticeable, but it is still there, like they are masking their presence from a foe unlikely to find them, and therefore don't need to hide themselves perfectly.

A foe whose psychic talent is untrained, perhaps?

Casey? It's a possibility. She must be complicating things for them.

So who are they? Thenos mused, friend or foe?

I would say undercover agents for a major faction, quite probably ours.

Unity's Hand? Thenos guessed. Had they been sent here to spy on them? But surely they would have hid themselves better... Added protection? A nice thought, but the Unity's Hand had been fanatically loyal to the previous High Psintegrat. Unlikely. Most probably they were spying on Roesh.

Well, if that's the case, they're much less professional than I expected... Teldin frowned.

You expect more of them? After all, they aren't working against us.

Slow down! We don't even know if it is the Unity's Hand. But there are ways of finding out.

You'd suggest? Thenos asked. Teldin clearly wanted something out of this, which wasn't unfair, seeing as Teldin had worked almost tirelessly throughout his time on Rebirth.

Thenos, what we could do with is an inside man.

In other words, you.

Sharp as a needle, old friend. However, I want to be more than just on the inside. With our help, the new High Psintegrat could gain the loyalty of the Unity's Hand.

And to achieve this goal, you'd... Teldin was smiling. Thenos knew where this was going.

Make me chief of the Unity's Hand. Top dog, head honcho. All that is needed is to persuade your friend the High Psintegrat to give me permission to take over, and I will be able to take it from there.

Can it really be that easy? Thenos queried, taken aback by Teldin's confidence, It seems like quite a feat, and it's a lot of power for the High Psintegrat to entrust you with.

Then in that case, Teldin paused, she'll just have to trust me.

The pause translated as "you'll have to trust me too," Thenos was sure of that. This plan was worth a second look. It would reign in the more unruly parts of the Flames of Vengeance, which couldn't be a bad thing. However, Teldin's motives couldn't be purely selfless.

Thenos stopped himself. He shouldn't be doubting a good friend like this. Teldin was very closely associated with Thenos. What benefitted one benefitted them both, even if the benefit was only seeing friends succeed. However, the Unity's Hand present here were certainly not friends, if they were Unity's Hand.

So what of the infiltrators already here? Thenos asked.

If they're here on official business, then it is best that we leave them. After all, we've meddled with the Council's machinations enough recently.

Thenos smiled. Zaroday. Sure enough, Sethis had faced him once more. However, she had been saved from the fate that the Council wished for her by Thenos' timely intervention. Zaroday had escaped with his life and his fleet, Thenos had taken from him a group of Advent prisoners that the man had captured, presumably during the battle at the colony he attacked. While it was an acceptable outcome, the Seer Council would not be happy with Thenos' interference in their plans for Sethis. Best to lay low, if only briefly.

Then we leave them be and concentrate on the reason that we are here. Have you any plans to meet with that Admiral you made friends with?

The shuttle continued its descent. Thenos knew that many other leaders from various factions in contact with Roesh would be there. Likely his reception would be hostile, out of fear of the unknown, or the different, but the new Flames of Vengeance was not to be the chew-toy of the TEC, as it had been before. Thenos smiled. In one respect the old High Psintegrat had the right idea. Sometimes it is good to be feared.

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

What? Oatesy03 posted? Do you think his accounts been hijacked?

I'm back. In the words of a certain L. Jenkins, let's do this.

(DS Lore)

    The group working on the communications bug remain hard at work, each yelling out ideas from their work stations and trying it on the main holovid station and simulating the results.

    "Okay, so here's the coding of the virus." Todd states after the group has pin pointed it's source on the RFT network.  "How do we get it to play nice?"
    "Now that we have it..." Commander Frese answers.  "It shouldn't be too difficult for us to yank out the section of coding that allows it to replicate itself."
    "Once you've done that, we save a copy somewhere and shut everything down?" Tim asks.
    "Yeah." Lieutenant Goslin adds.  "Then with your permission, we'll insert our countermeasures into your system and you turn everything back on.  Things should clean up pretty rapidly."
    "Easy to do with the corporate and military networks, but the civilian network won't shut down, and neither will our allies networks." Tim states.
    "That can be a problem." Commander Lee adds.
    "Meanwhile, we'll have to have one of our existing broadcast centers reinfected with the controlled virus and fed normal civilian traffic like the daily news so that our spies think we're just having comms issues." Todd states.
    Tim straightens out his uniform. "So that's how we control this, how do we figure out who it's going to?"
    "The easy way..." Frese states, "Is to create a virus of our own and feed it to the spy virus and let the spy virus send it back to it's home.  Ours will infect their network and send info back to us.  Hopefully, they won't expect that type of an attack and won't be prepared for it."
    "It's sneaky and underhanded...  I like it." Todd muses.

    After several more minutes, the group manages to dissect the code enough to find the replication sequence.  Rewriting the virus without that section of coding, they loaded it into the lab's private network and begin sending each other messages.  As expected, the virus performed as it was designed and copied all of the data, followed by attempts to upload it to the main network.  Rechecking the network confirmed that the virus had indeed not duplicated itself in any way.

    "Great job people!" Tim says loudly.
    "Now on to phase two of this little project of ours." Todd says.
    "I've already go some basic stuff in place for the Pinger Virus." Batson announces.
    "Pinger Virus?" Todd asks.
    "Well, that's what it is." Batson explains.  "All we're doing is using it to send us it's location and then dissolve..."
    Todd frowns slightly.  "I guess...  I'd rather it sent us intel back on them."
    Tim interrupts Todd, "We can worry about that later, right now, I just want my comm network cleaned so I can start talking to my fleet again."
    Batson uploads his work to the main terminal.  "Basically, I have this set up to scan the network it's on and figure out it's position in the system.  Once it has that info, it sends it back to us and deletes itself.  I'm not familiar with enough Vasari tech to know how hidden this will be, so that part I'm leaving up to you RDA people."
    Commander Lee looks it over.  "We don't really have to hide it all that well...  Vasari programming is just different enough from human programming that it's easy for us to miss each other's bugs unless we're specifically looking for them.  As far as they know, we don't know about this yet.  So our best course of action is to just embed it into some of the news feeds and send it off and see what comes back."
    "Should we do that before or after we wipe the network clean?" Tim asks.
    "I'd say for best results, we should do it before, sir." Lee states. "That way it will be buried in the maximum amount of data that they will receive from here and make it all that much harder to notice."
    "Very well." Tim says.  "Upload it to our network immediately and send it out into the universe."
    "You know, this might have some other side effects." Lieutenant Sokolow states grabbing Tim's attention.
    "And those would be?" he asks.
    She continues, "Depending on who else picks up the transmission, we might get pinged with their location too."
    "That could be a good thing." Frese adds.  "You'd know who else is out there."
    "Actually it's a bad thing." Tim states.
    "Either way, it doesn't matter.  If it sends back more then one place it means we have to try something else, if it only sends back one, then we're good." Todd says disappointed by the new development.

    Tim orders a temporary shut down of the comm networks until the team has had a chance to bury the pinger virus into the news feeds and has the stations turned back on.  Almost immediately he's swamped with a mountain of requests as to the nature of the shutdown, which he happily ignores.

    "Okay, Moving on.  Frese, let's see your virus killing program." Tim states.
    "Here." Frese says while punching in some information on the main terminal.  "The only thing is that you have to shut everything down while applying the fix so that you can be assured you're clean.  After that, you shouldn't get the virus back from any of your allies that have it since their feeds are monitored and sanitized.  So unless you kill the civilian network as well, you'll just be vulnerable to reinfection from the inside."
    "We can't tell them until we know who's responsible." Tim states.
    "OH! IDEA!" Batson yells out forcing everyone to look at him.  "Why don't we just rewrite the automatic restart protocols for our networks and distribute copies of the cure out to everyone and everything along with it, buried of course, then insert a few thousand independent copies of our virus on the network and get it to shut itself down by overloading it with traffic..."
    "The corporate and military networks can be shut down and restarted while the civilian networks all crash, making us the last to shut down and the first to be back up." Tim concludes.

    Todd takes a few minutes to review the network cure, as does Sokolow and Batson.  When all three have decided that no harm will come to their sensitive information, Todd gives his go ahead.  Sokolow contacts Lieutenant Gross on the David and advises him of the plan with orders to pass along her personal findings and analysis of the situation, as well as a communications blackout with the RFT network until she's satisfied with the results.  Once she's finished, she gives her approval to go with the plan.  They quickly add in the necessary information to the automatic restart protocols and seed it to as many parts of the network as they can while Tim advises his ship captains and base commanders of the plan with cryptic messages about comm failure events and sends them a copy of the cure.  Once they're sure that they've reached as many terminals as they can, they start seeding the neutered Vasari virus to the civilian network in a similar fashion.  Over the next few minutes they monitor it as it overloads and shuts down.  Tim sends out the command for the corporate and military nets to shut down and patch in the cure and restart as quickly as possible.





    The Free Traders Network goes dark.





    The broadcast centers are the first to recover as everyone there is highly trained to bring them back on-line as efficiently as possible.  The individual ships and star bases are the next to reestablish a link, followed by the various ground and orbital installations.  The main RFT corporate network resumes operation, followed by each of it's entities.  Lastly, the civilian part of the network slowly comes back and reestablishes connections to each other.

    "Well?" Tim asks almost impatiently.
    "I think we got it." Todd states while bringing up new network traffic data on each of the terminals.  "Each location I've started to monitor is showing a fifty percent reduction in..."  He stops mid thought as the numbers slowly begin to rise.
    "Something wrong?" Tim asks.
    "Oh, it's probably nothing..." Todd answers.
    Frese begins to laugh.  "You're being flooded with angry requests wanting to why that just happened."
    "Meh." Todd states with a dismissive voice.  "I'm gonna follow the Admiral's lead and just ignore them."
    Tim laughs.  "Is my network safe again?"
    "Should be." Frese states with confidence.  "Shall we upload our version of the virus to the comm centers?"
    "Yes.  Include any pertinent information about it to the station crews and tell them to make sure they monitor it, and make sure it keeps feeding who ever is listening all of the civilian traffic that goes through the stations and nothing else.  Report any strange behavior immediately.  I'll write up a press release saying we messed up with a scheduled routine maintenance memo and sent to everyone by mistake and took down too many things at once overloading the system." Tim states before walking out of the room.
    "So Sokolow, should we start making the rounds fixing your fleet?" Todd asks.
    Sokolow ignores him, "Batson, you can head back to your other project, I'll head back to the David with the others.  RDA, thanks for your help with this security breach."  The Lion's group exits following Sokolow's comment.
    "Damn it, I keep forgetting about that project." Todd says to himself.  "Come on you guys, let's get you back to your ship."  The RDA advisers follow Todd out the door.

(DS RP)

The following post is for those who like to know a character's background prior to the beginning of a story or RP. In this case, it's the background to Senior Captain Matthew Siegel. It does contain a SPOILER in that his history will be largely revealed as the story progresses. Be warned.

----

Senior Captain Matthew Siegel was the younger of two sons, both close to each other despite nearly five years of age difference. His father was a troubled man who was often aggressive with his wife, although only rarely did it become physical. Although he never assaulted the boys, this was often seen by them and visibly shook them. When his older brother, Jonathan, was 15, he and his father fought, resulting in Jonathan leaving the household. Matthew was not old enough to follow and the animosity between father and son meant it would be ears before the two brothers saw each other again. When Matthew was 17, he began to exert independence and after witnessing a particularly nasty conflict between his mother and father, he stood up to his father on behalf of not only himself, but his mother as well.

Weeks later he left for the military academy where he explored romantic relationships, but never committed himself to any which would pull him away from the academy. A year later, he was visited by his mother who announced she left his father. The two kept in touch, but he never heard from his father again. He got in touch with his brother a little over a year later and the two talked frequently, his brother finally deciding to visit after some months. It was then that his brother joined the academy. Unlike Matthew, Jonathan struggled with the material and fell into disruptive social habits. Matthew attempted to help his brother beyond his problems, but a series of fights with other cadets led to his expulsion. Although the two remained in contact, Jonathan became more and more aware of Matthew's moral superiority and grew notably angered by it. The two never had a chance to bridge that gap as Matthew completed his time at the academy.

He was initially stationed aboard the DLS Isaiah. He rose to Lieutenant aboard that vessel and had a long standing relationship with another shipmate, Natalie Bergman, before being transferred to the DLS Adam, where he gained promotion alongside Peter Aronoff, now Senior Captain of the DLS Adam. Although his relationship with Natalie ended when he was transferred, the two continue to be close friends and confidants. Upon reaching the rank of Commander, he was assigned to the DLS Elijah under Captain Robert Ermler. It was during this time that he heard his brother was falling in with one woman or another, following their father in conduct and abusing his own health as a coping mechanism. Siegel was incapable of intervening due to his posting at the time.

Commander Siegel was not extraordinary as a tactician, but was faster to respond under pressure than Captain Ermler, calling attention to himself and rising to Captain of the DLS Aaron. His title as Senior Captain and assignment as Fleet Commander of the Green Fleet came after a conflict with Advent forces in the Arinus System, where he led a group of three Kols in a flying wedge which broke past the enemy capital phalanx and, with a mixture of flak bursts and port fire, broke the enemy strikecraft support which forced the opposing forces into a withdrawal, all while costing the enemy no more casualties than 60 fighter pilots and two cruiser crews.

He used his earned shore leave to visit with his brother who was hospitalized for long term side effects of chemical abuse. He helped his brother into a rehabilitation center and arranged for his mother to meet them and take over Jonathan's care. His brother has since recovered and continues to live with their mother. Shortly after hearing positive news on the subject, the DLS Jericho was destroyed in the Distant Stars Sector and all David's Lions fleets deployed to the region.

    Tension was thick in the command bridge as everyone watched the fleet of Advent on the Psidar. It was bigger than the inital intel report had told them.  Though the armor and hull upgrades had been completed through out the fleet many wondered if it would be enough. Several crew members took the occasional glance at the commanding officer sitting upon the command seat with worried looks.
    Lord Ryat had changed. Gone was the slight cocky smile, the gleam of certainty. No more was there the radiance of calm coming from him. A sense that no matter what, they would get out a live. Rather there was a coldness of impenetrable steel and the will to sacrifice anything to get his objective.
    "Advent fleet coming through my lord," came the report from Tactical. The crew immediatly refocused on the tasks at hand as the Advent fleet tore through the phase space barrier.  Lord Ryat sat silently as the data of the Advent fleet appeared on the holo tank. A Radiance and a Halycon headed the fleet. The Halycon hung back with fifteen Aeria Drone Host vessels and ten Solanus Adjudicators.  The Radiance formed up with twenty Disciples, twenty five Illuminators, and fifteen Defense vessels and began to advance with a swarm of bombers leaving the carriers and dashing ahead of the fleet.
    Lord Ryat studied the holotank for a few moments. His fleet seemed pitiful. A mere Kol with ten Cobalts fifteen Gradas and fifteen Javelis. But the massive starbase with six hangars equipped with flak guns surrounding it helped even the odds. Not to mention hull structure and armor that was ten times better then what was found in Trader Space. The Advent were in for a surprise.
    "Go for Alpha Delta strike with the fighters," he said quietly. Commands were quickly put through communications and soon all the fighters were heading towards the bombers. They intercepted the bombers quickly, fired off a few volleys of high explosive rounds that worked so well against light armored vessels causing a few bombers to explode and the rest to break formation.
    Then the fighters dash through and headed towards the second group of ships with the Solanus Adjudicators as the main target. The Defense vessels, expecting the fighters to attack the bombers, were caught off-guard and broke off to attempt to intercept. The rest continued on.
    "Well, a bit of reduction is nice," Lord Ryat mumbled.
    The bombers were the first to strike. Having reformed a bit they came in one massive wave, sending spears of light down into the Kol. It anwered with a burst of flak that shattered the wave of bombers. A few survived weakened, only to fall to the rapid firing autocannons of the Gardas and the turrets on the hangars.
    "Shields are down my lord," came the report from damage control, "But that armor is awesome. We have some mild damage to the superstructure but that is it."
    "The bombers are gone my lord," came another report from tactical, "They got caught completely by the flak trap we set. And the Aeria Drone Hosts are complete spent of anti-matter," he crowed with delight, "Only the Hal-oh shit!" His celebratory commets were cut short as a burst of bombers came spewing out of the Halycon.
    "Are there any energy reading from that Radiance?" Lord Ryat asked. The tactical officer stared in disbelief at his screen. "OFFICER ANSWER ME!" Lord Ryat roared causing the the tac officer to break his fuge.
    "Ah..no my lord, there isn't," he responded quickly.
    "Signal the fleet," Lord Ryat ordered, "Engage the Advent fleet at full speed. Attack profile Beta Gamma."
    "B-b-but my lord," the tac officer sputtered, "The bombers are coming towards us. We will be outside the guns from the hangars. And if we leave now the starbase-"
    "DAMN THE BOMBERS!" Lord Ryat shouted "FULL SPEED AHEAD!"
    The TEC fleet began to move forward towards the attacking Advent fleet. Missiles from both the starbase and the Javelises dashed forward to strike upon the fleet, focusing on the Radiance battleship. The second Advent fleet moved forward as well and the Solanus Adjudicators settled into attack position. Soon they were firing their long range plasma bolts at the orbital support structures. A repair bay exploded under the barrage and was soon followed by a hangar.
    The Intel officer approached Lord Ryat's side. "My lord you need to see this," he said quietly as he handed Ryat a data board. Ryat looked through the information presented.
    "How accurate are these numbers?" Lord Ryat asked in a calm voice.
    "Deviation of about 5 percent my lord," the Intel officer explained, "I won't be able to get harder numbers until after a full analsys of the battle but it won't change the conclusion much. Those starfish are firing more powerful bolts at a far higher rate then we have ever seen. Even with the Halycon's ability to increase the fire rate of their energy weapons. And that many bombers should not have been able to punch through our shields."
    "They may have gotten some of their tech advances from that artifact," Lord Ryat concluded. "Doesn't change anything and the fighters should be handling the starfish soon."
    As if in responce to his prophecy the TEC fighters swooped en mass upon the Solanus Adjudicators riddling them with high explosive shells. One was struck in a critcal spot and disappeared in a ball of plasma. The fighters then broke off and began to circle around to attack some more.
    "They should make short work of them," Lord Ryat said confidently.
    "My lord Psidar reports more incoming ships," the sensors operator said, "Twenty Purge vessels."
    "Shall I divert the fighters my lord?" the tactical officer asked.
    "No, we need to get those starfish first," he replied.
    "But my lord," the tac officer protested, "they could destroy the colony on the planet. Billions of civilians will die."
    "And if we lose our support structures we could lose this system," Lord Ryat shot back, "the attack orders stand." Silence fill the command room as everyone took pause at what was said. Then slowly everyone went back to their duties as Lord Ryat remained focus on the battle.
    The Purge vessels winged their way through the gravwell towards the planet as the fighters continued pressing their attack upon the Solanus Adjudicators. The Defense ships were soon in range to engage the fighters but the damage was done as one after the another the Solanus Adjudicators were wiped out. The Purge vessels, having only received minor opposition and losing two vessels, were soon in orbit around the planet and began launching their cargo of death. Plumes of explosions erupted upon the planet surface as the kinetic bolts slammed into it.
    The two main fleets soon were engaged in intense fighting with the starbase able to provide support fire with its missiles and snipe the edges with its lasers. The advance weapons of the Advent quickly smashed down the shields of the TEC vessels but the new powerful armor and hull structure held against the torrent of firepower. Still three Cobalts and two Gradas disappeared under the piercing beams from the Illuminators as the fleet approached. Soon their own weapons were in range and laser fire and autocannons ripped into the lightly armored hulls of the Disciples and Illuminators.
    The Kol shrugged of the hits from the smaller ships like gnats off a rhino its massive beam, laser and autocannon weapons focused squarely on the Radiance battleship. It fired its massive Gauss Cannon. The massive bullet speared through space and slammed into the Radiance causing massive damage and forcing it to almost come to a complete halt.
    But the Radiance replied with its own weapons just as the bombers engaged the TEC. A bolt of energy leaped forth and struck the Kol causing massive exlposions. The bombers added their own fire and while not as numerious as the previous wave they were dealing with a weakened target. The Kol shuddered as armor and hull was torn from it. A lone repair bay launched packets of nano bots at the stricken ship at the edge of its range in hopes of steming the damage.
    "Fire the Flak Cannon!" ordered Lord Ryat.
    "We can't my lord," came the reply, "The anti-matter holds have been destablized and are detonating. Until we bring them under control we can not fire the Flak Cannon or engage the Adaptive Shielding." Lord Ryat cursed at the circumstances.
    The Gardas engaged the bombers as well as they could but between the need to engage the Illuminators and the bombers tougher armor they did not do as well as hoped. Two more Cobalts three Gardas and four Javelis' were destroyed but they took some Advent vessels as well. Soon though the tough armor of the TEC fleet prevailed and the the Advent fleet began to lose many of its ships. The TEC fighters, now finished with their task, pounced on the bombers, clear the space of them. The Kol brought its anti-matter holds back under control and fired another blast from its Gauss Cannon into the Radiance. Its weakened hull could no longer handle the stress and buckled. It then was torn apart by laser, autocannon and beam fire. What was left of the tattered Advent fleet turned and began to flee as the TEC ships pounced on the stragglers. The carriers and Defense vessels got away with minimal damage but the main attack fleet wasn't so fortunate and nothing got away. The Purge battle group also pulled away using the death of the main attack fleet as cover, only losing two more vessels.
    They left behind a shattered and broken planet and its bloodied but unbowed defenders.

Chapter 51 Trinity - Sere and Pris

-Arrangements-

The sun still had not risen when Siegel and the two women set out from the Terminal, the sky still dark, with the silhouettes of the guns mounted on the high hills in the distance, turning on their bases.

He led, feeling a bit awkward at his newfound charges, but also knowing that even though they were Advent, that it was the right thing to do. If there was anything in Matt Siegel, it was knowing that what was right was necessary no matter the outcome.

He walked, the two women following, his boots scraping at the dirt road with the distant lights of the Comm Center throwing thin shadows back. Silence suited the two women, though a thought pulled at Siegel. How was he suppose to balance his older duties with those he now took on? He could find shelter and a place for them, but there were still the faction massings, the Vasari delegation arrival and the recent attack by unknown forces on the trade center paired with the recent espionage. He grinned at how the world was never simple.

Walking in the dark, the slow plod of footsteps across the rough dirt. In the ten minutes they had been walking they had only made half a mile; half a mile still remained. Belatedly he thought he should have called a shuttle. Though for himself, the walk was always good to clear his mind, to find some clarity in the pieces of impending crisis and to formulate tactics to deal with them. The bridge rarely offered the extra time to attack a problem from all of the angles.

"Sorry..." he suddenly said, his voice low, then he raised his voice and said it again because he thought they couldn't hear... then the realization struck him that the little one wouldn't need him to repeat...

"Little one?" Pris asked, her mouth pulling down into a small frown, her eyebrows arched. If she were not walking he would have expected her hand on her hip and a foot tapping impatiently. He wanted to laugh. She grinned through her frown, "Well..."

"I wasn't thinking when we started out. I didn’t think much of the distance." Yes, she probably already knew that, even before he said it. It was alright for him to go trudging off for a few miles to get his head together, but not with two young ladies that...

"We're not quite as delicate as you may think." Pris said and turned and told Sere what he had been thinking. He already knew the older of the two couldn’t read his mind, the way she looked to the younger for bits of information when they met. At least there was some small measure of privacy in his head, though little enough with the young... with... what had the older one called the younger... Pris?

"Yes. Pris."

He smiled again. And even if Pris, said it was ok, that the walk wasn't too terribly long, he thought it wasn't really what he should have done. A shuttle would have been better, though that would have complicated things even further. The security measures alone would have postponed the trip indefinitely. Then there would be questions regarding why he took such a course of action, knowing all of the complications involved. Perhaps the walk, even if a little difficult was better. Certainly he didn't have to explain to anyone what he was doing or their circumstances.

"It is alright." Sere said then, her eyes bright in the reflected dim light of the distant lights that ringed the Comm Center. "If you feel this is best, then we don't mind." For a moment he wondered if he really gave away his thoughts that easily or if she did have some ability to read after all, but her voice was bells and he nodded, though he still wanted to apologize.

She was beautiful. There was no denying that. Yet there was something odd in it all. He knew what she was and what it meant, but he also knew that he found her attractive. Like many officers, he found it hard to get involved with someone. At one point it was simple enough, but he was a captain now. The rules change when you take that seat. He shook his head and tried to grin back, but suddenly he felt he wasn't paying enough attention to what he needed. There were upcoming events that he would need to find a way to prepare for. He couldn't ever fully see what they would be, things were always happening that he hadn't yet planned for. It would be all 'in the moment' when they did. He could handle that, but people often got hurt when you winged it. The harder part of a command was not risking your life, but watching others risk theirs. He remembered Pris then and that she could read him. He turned as he walked and looked back, where she walked, her face lowered, a small frown turned at her lips. Then she looked up and saw his eyes and tried to smile. It was a sad smile.

"Its alright..." she said slow, "that is a lot to deal with."

He nodded slow and turned back as they neared the Comm Center. 'Just get your work done and find Mac and get these girls taken care of and then you can get back to what you need to do' he thought. Pris nodded once. They came into the light then, the hard glare of the tower lights that ringed the Center and turned toward the gatehouse at the front of the building. Nine foot barbed wire fencing encircled the center and up to the gatehouse where twin wheeled gates stood closed. Two guards stood at attention outside. A third inside behind shock glass at the control console. Matt waved and stepped up as the guards slid their rifles off their shoulders and into their hands. Pris and Sere stopped. Matt took a few steps forward, then glanced back and noticed them stopped.

"Its ok," he managed as he fished in his jacket pocket and produced a badge that he held up for the guards. One stepped close and lowered his rifle and examined the badge, as the other remained back, rifle still raised.

"Senior Captain Matthew Siegel, David's Lions, I'm here to go over some manifests for newly arrived equipment. You can check it."

"We will." said the guard with a deadpan face. The guard punched numbers into his communicator and watched as the screen blinked and then changed colors several times before it came back up with a green screen, PASS written across the screen. The guard lifted his chin and gestured toward the two women, "And these?"

"They are with me." Siegel said.

"They don't have authorization."

"They are with me." Siegel said again with the authority most captains learn to convey, but he has managed most often to find no need of. The guard just stood there, looking into Matt's eyes, and then after about a minute, he turned his eyes away and nodded.

"All right. They are your responsibility. This is on you.”

Matt nodded. “Of course, it always is."

The guard raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He waved them through and Matt turned toward Pris and Sere still five feet behind him and nodded and then inclined his head toward the building. "Its all right, come on, your with me, your fine, no one will try to stop you."

Pris's hands came away from the edges of her skirt where her hands had gripped the cloth tight in her fists and nodded slow. “All right." she said, and leaned toward Sere as the women moved to follow Matt, saying something that Matt couldn't hear.

The guard stared hard at the women as they approached him toward the sliding gates that pulled back from the access way to the Comm building. Sere turned the other way, not even looking at the guard, while Pris did just the opposite, staring at the guard, her white eyes wide and glaring, her mouth pulled down into a hard frown. She didn't hide her anger at being treated like some criminal. Even if she knew that she and Sere were really out of their depth here, this was a Trader world and the humans were as openly belligerent of the fact that they were Advent as she supposed was normal.

Though on an Advent world there would have been nothing of that. At least in their faces, no matter what thoughts went on behind their eyes. The humans in Pris and Sere's place would have been treated graciously, even deferentially, as if visiting dignitaries. But their minds would have been monitored constantly and passers by, seemingly innocent, would have been guards, even if they carried no physical weapons. Mind darts and Influence and Control were largely all the guards would need to subdue a human.

The guard stared back hard as the women passed him. 'You...' thought Pris as she passed him, the frown on her face changing to a smile as the sliptsnare in her mind slowly reached out and gently touched the guard. He shook his head then, but did nothing more. He didn't realize then. 'They are fine,' she thought and he nodded to himself and turned away, staring in the near distance then.

"Let them through." the guard said into his communicator and raised a hand in the air and waved it a moment then pulled it down and to the rifle in his other hand. Matt stood at the gate waiting as the women caught up and then they passed through into the compound and then through the door into the Communications Center itself. Siegel enters the Communication Center with the two women now under his guard. He quickly gains access, the security eying the two women, but not making any outright accusations or aggressions. After all, a David's Lion, a captain no less, was vouching for them. They did look unusual and many of the natives helping to operate the center were wary, but the women simply followed the captain around, one holding onto the arm of the other, the one with the bells, as they passed quietly through.

It took little time before they reached the heavy lifting floor, where, little to Siegel's amazement, a lieutenant was awaiting the captain's arrival. He spotted the captain early in his approach, throwing up a salute long before Siegel was within earshot, especially given the noise generated by the equipment moving pallets of boxed cargo from the floor to overhead storage bins. Siegel lazily returned the gesture, waiting until he got within earshot to give an order, "Follow me, lieutenant."

The man did so, coming to the captain's side and only noticing the two women in his wake with the utmost brevity. Siegel moved in a straight line, his feet creating a solid path, as if he knew exactly where to go. Meanwhile, his head darted about as every corner of every steel pallet and loading crane passed, searching for something he dearly needs. He comes within sight of a gray haired man next to a pallet of missiles, the devices staggered in their orderly pile, with metal beams between each layer to secure the position of every one.

The gray man pulls upon a ratcheting device which pulls tight a thick, synthetic strap, yet another security against any mishaps that could, at least in theory, befall the dangerous cargo. The man glances over in Siegel's direction, doing a double take before bursting a loud laugh over the ruckus while scratching at the gray beard full on his face, "Eh, what er you doin hea?"

Siegel approaches with a smile and the two shake, the old man's face wrinkling up something fierce with an expression of happiness. "I just need to get some business taken care of, Mack."

"Ah, en ya figure Ah'm tha man ta see bout it?"

"Not exactly. Do you mind waiting for one second?"

Mack waives his hand in agreement, turning his attention back to strapping the equipment down while Siegel turns to the lieutenant. He leans in close to overcome the noise pollution.

"We need to make sure we have a partial load of standard ordinance aboard every vessel conducting weapons trials. I need you to get in contact with Lieutenant Commander Harari and verify the proper payloads and quantities. Do it through written messages and save every draft, responding with a copy of every message attached to the previous. I want you to check, double check, and then doubt yourself one last time before we have anything taken into orbit. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," the lieutenant replies.

"Good. When you're done, have all orders verified with Commander Landauer. He's still planet-side, so do not leave this station until he responds, no matter the delay."

"Yes, sir."

"Get to it, lieutenant," Siegel finishes before replying to the officer's salute in kind and watching him turn away to his task. He looks to the two young ladies and motions for them to approach, which they do with their, so far, usual quiet demeanor. He turns his attention back to Mack and begins speaking, Mack looking over in response.

"Mack, I met these women in the port. They don't have a place to stay and no family."

Mack takes a step away from the pallet and toward the two. Siegel looks back, "This is Pris and Sere," he says as he moves his hand from one to the other in a gesture of designation. He then turns to them, "I am correct, right?"

Sere nods and Pris simply smiles in response, prompting Siegel to turn back toward Mack with a slight grin of satisfaction.

"I was wondering if you would mind me bringing them back to your place so I could give them a chance to freshen up. Maybe even give them some time to get comfortable before looking elsewhere for a place to stay."

Mack peers at the two, causing Pris a nervously agitated look and Sere to turn her eyes toward the floor. His voice comes hesitantly, "Ah guess, as long as ya sey they're okay. Ah'll be ah while as it were."

Siegel smiles, "Thanks, Mack."

Although Mack has done them a favor, there is a slight vein of discomfort. Sere can not read his mind, leaving her to wonder if he's a native with a simple curiosity as to her physical features or perhaps he knows more of the Advent, perhaps harboring a prejudice which is only stifled by the security of knowing they'll be under the watch of a military officer.

Pris, on the other hand, is well aware of his feelings. She knows that the old man is only familiar with the Advent through rumors and unsubstantiated claims made by others who were more often than not drunk when moving their lips. His curiosity is a mix of unfamiliarity, which leaves her feeling like an exhibit in a zoo, and his suspicion, which makes her feel like a criminal.

She thinks of weaving a sliptsnare, but then thinks better of it, she doesn't want to interfere with the officer's friends. The snare she had used on the guard would stay in place as long as she was on the planet in close proximity to the man, it would wind itself deeper and deeper into his mind and he would become in time more and more protective of her, coming in his own mind to think that he loves her and always loved her...

In time it would cripple him physically unless she removed it, but she had done it largely out of fear and self protection. And though she didn't want to see the man die, she did need someone she could turn to for help if she needed it. She just hoped it wasn't necessary, and that they could do what Sere had come to do and they could leave and she would then release him. It was just sometimes necessary to have an 'insider' in a place just in case things got ugly. What keeps her at bay in the case of Mack is most definitely the favor done, something which she knows she can not provide for herself and would not want to squander. It's a comfort knowing that Siegel will be present, even in spite of his flaws, and that Mack is not expecting to be home anytime soon.

Mack continued to examine the two as they were accompanied back the way they came by Siegel. When the two were near the other side of the loading floor, Mack's eyebrows lifted briefly before he returned to his task.

Siegel, with the same gentlemanly gestures as before, guided the women through the structure and outside. Once there, he gave them a brief explanation of where they were heading and a description of the apartment, apologizing in advance for the mess they will find there. They waited all of ten minutes as a shuttle was prepared and then brought to the front at the gate, one unexpected by Siegel, but accepted when a guard mentioned was on its way. The guard that Pris had snared stepped up to the car and pulled the back doors open. He smiled as Pris went by him toward the car with Sere next to her, Matt taking the passenger seat up front. His lips moved, as if to say something for a moment, but then he didn't, just stared at Pris as if she were something very important to him.

"Thank you..." she said slowly to him, reaching out and touching his arm as she stepped into the car. Sere turned and stared at Pris a moment, her eyebrows lifting, her lips parting for a moment, but then closing and saying nothing. The guard reached out his hand and touched Pris's hand in his own briefly and then stepped back and closed the door and stood there watching as the car pulled out through the gate and toward the town.

The sky was black with a line of pink at the bottom edge, a bare line of light on the horizon as the car moved toward the town, lights already on, the streets glinted in the lightening sky.

Sere turned to Pris and looked at her, but said nothing, Pris for her part, only thinned her lips to a line and shook her head. She wouldn't hurt him. She just needed him in case...

Just for a little while.

She lay her head back on the seat of the car and closed her eyes, feeling the soft shifting of the car as it moved. Sere would just have to understand. Sere had her objective. But Pris... Pris was supposed to take care of Sere. That was her job and she would see to it, any way that she could. Sere might not understand and might even disagree, but that is not what mattered. Pris would do what she had to do, even if the man did have to die. She didn't want that, but if it was necessary, then that is what she would do. She bit her lip at that thought, she didn't like it. But then she hadn't been asked to like it. It was simply necessary. Sere lay her head back on the seat as well and closed her eyes.

Less than twenty four hours and so much had already happened. There was still much to do, but for a little while at least perhaps she could simply relax and not have to think about that too much. Matt glanced back over his shoulder as the driver guided the car, watching the two women with their eyes closed. He knew he should help them, but it was an added burden to his current charges, but he was already committed now and he would see it through. Perhaps he would have time to get some breakfast and clean up before they had to leave Mack's and find a long term place to stay. Perhaps he might have a little more time to see them settled in before he was pressed back into duty. There was still so much to do, and he was learning that the Distant Stars had a way of making sure you were out of time.

(DS)

    Roesh and Henry land at the Moloney Space Port on Finley 1.  Upon arrival they're notified that Thenos's shuttle had landed just a couple minutes before and that he was waiting for them at the west terminal.
    "Any idea why Thenos needs to see us Henry?" Roesh asks.
    "Not a clue." Henry replies.
    The two walk together to the west terminal where they don't immediately see Thenos.  After poking around for a few seconds they shrug to each other and exit the building.  Once outside they see Thenos talking to a couple of the RFT guards attached to his security group.
    "Ahh, there you guys are." he says.
    "We would have been here sooner, but we thought you'd still be inside." Henry notes.
    "It's no big deal." Thenos states.
    "Shall we?" Roesh says while motioning down the street.
    "I hear some people that were on my trade ships didn't pass inspection." Thenos says after a couple of minutes walking.
    "I guess not." Roesh says.  "We've also had some troubles at the trade port that services your ships."
    "Yeah, about that...  That's kind of why I'm here." Thenos states with a slightly disappointed look on his face.
    "You know about the fire too, huh?" Henry asks.
    "No, there was a fire?" Thenos asks.
    "Yes, details are a bit sketchy at the moment, we're waiting for a full report on the incident before we take any action." Henry states.
    "That's too bad.  I'm sorry that I have to give you some more bad news then." Thenos says running his hand through his hair.
    "Great, I love bad news." Roesh comments sarcastically.
    "As you may know, the Advent in this region have recently undergone some...  Reorganization...  That being said, some of the old powers that be aren't around anymore and the new leaders have decided that my exile was unjust and want me back."
    "I thought this was supposed to be bad news." Henry says.
    "For me, not so much, but for you guys it is." Thenos adds.  "I've rejoined the Flames of Vengeance.  The bad news for you is that allies of yours and their allies attacked and destroyed a large portion of the Flames fleet.  So as part of my rejoining I have to dissolve our trade and protection alliance."
    "That is bad news.  We're losing our first customer out here." Henry says.
    "Well, it's not like you don't have other customers and you're now big enough to be noticed and attacked." Thenos says with a smirk on his face.
    "This is true." Roesh says with a slight chuckle.
    "Yes, hopefully soon we'll have enough information on those responsible for the bombing that we can take some aggressive action and collect some repayment." Henry notes.
    "Now I do like the sound of that." Thenos states while patting Henry on the back.  "If things get out of control and I just happen to be in the neighborhood, you'll invite me to the party right?"
    "I thought you were here to end our cooperative behavior?" Roesh asks.
    Thenos stops walking, "Officially, yes.  On paper the Garran Collective is nothing more then this final contract, and once that's dissolved, so is the last remnants of the group.  Unofficially, this happened while our alliance was still in affect, so I wouldn't mind taking a few shots if I was asked."
    "We'll keep that in mind." Roesh states before stopping himself.
    Henry stops and looks back to see Thenos standing there with a look to his face that says he's having an odd thought.
    "We need to move...  Quickly!" Thenos says causing them all to take off running.
    "What's wrong?" Roesh asks.



    "Riona..." a man says at just above a whisper as he rushes up to her.  "The news feed says that a large group of ships have entered our gravity well and have began to fight with the Free Traders."
    "That's our signal." Riona says.
    "Also, another couple of shuttles landed.  One had an Advent man on it that had security attached to him, so he must be important.  Roesh and Henry are also on the planet."
    "Perhaps we should wait a little bit and get a two for one special." Kieran suggests.
    "Perhaps." Riona says pulling out a small communications device. "Did anyone else come down?"
    A voice comes in over the communicator, "Yeah.  About a dozen ships dropped in just outside of town behind the bulk cargo complex.  As soon as we saw them we went to work putting up air defenses on the roofs of as many buildings as we can get to."
    "Added security I can understand, but why out of town?" the man asks.
    "So as not to disturb the residents here most likely." Kieran answers.
    "Or to try and catch us unprepared." Riona smirks.
    "Should I go prep our bigger guns?" the man asks.
    "Yes.  And be ready to move them to any location I call you with." Riona states.
    The man nods and runs off just as quickly as he arrived.  After a few minutes pass, Riona's group spots Roesh and company approaching the town hall where J'Rah is still sitting outside of getting some fresh air.
    "Is everything ready?" Riona asks into her communicator.
    One voice comes back, "We should be able to knock them out of the sky and buy you some time."
    Another voice immediately following chimes in, "The big guns are powered up and ready to go."
    Riona stares coldly at her prey until they take off running. "NOW!" she yells into her communicator.



    "We need to move...  Quickly!" Thenos says causing them all to take off running.
    "What's wrong?" Roesh asks.
    "Forgive me for reading the minds of your citizens, but we're about to be attacked." he says while drawing his sidearm.
    Weapons fire erupts from all around them as they make their way to the town hall.  Several of the guards are hit and drop to the ground protecting the trio as they dash along exposed.  The guards already in place begin calling out over the radio for assistance while picking out targets to shoot back at.  J'Rah and his security detail take a defensive position at the door and keep the path open for Roesh, Henry, and Thenos.  As quickly as their feet can carry them, they rush through the doors followed by their guards.
    "Never a dull moment around here is it?" Thenos asks.
    "Not when all you bring me is bad news." Roesh says with a smile.
    "I was thinking about heading out right away, but I think sticking around for a little bit might be more fun." Thenos says.
    J'Rah yells, "TAKE COVER!" causing everyone to dive into the offices that line the passage.
    Seconds later the front doors are blasted in and fly down the hallway.



    "Victor Yankee to all craft, we're going in." the ship's pilot says
    "Copy." comes back over the radio.
    Six ships at the marine landing site lift off the ground and head for the engagement zone.  As they approach the town proper, alarms begin to sound as rockets streak through the sky.
    *static* "Mayday mayday, Tango November hit, we're going down."
    "Get some eyes on that ship!" Commander Jones orders.
    Another ship, Victor Yankee, rocks violently as the single alarm becomes three.
    "Engine fire." the copilot states.
    "We're losing hydraulics." The pilot notes as he fights the ship for control.
    "Suppression activated..." the copilot informs his flight partner.
    "Shutting the engine down." the pilot states as he begins pressing buttons on his control terminal.
    Victor Yankee drops closer to the ground under half power and settles into a smoother flight for their landing as the rest of the flight wing screams past above them.
    "Baker Mike assuming command." the pilot calls out over the radio.
    "Victor Yankee, Command, we're setting down.  We can't go on like this." the pilot states.
    "Command copies, status on Tango November?" Captain Page requests.
    "Unknown." Victor Yankee's pilot says over the comms.  "Five-Five is exiting and heading back now to check on Tango November, Zero-Three and Eight-One.  Nine-Zero is staying put while we see if we can fix this and limp back."
    "Command copies." Captain Page replies.

    "Heavy flak 10 o'clock." Charlie Lima's copilot states over the radio.
    "Copy, turn bearing one-seven-one for half a click then resume previous course." Baker Mike's pilot states.
    Copies come in over the radio as the craft all bank away from the flak cannons.
    "That's headed away from the town." Lieutenant Robles yells to the pilot from a seat in the back.
    "Yes sir." the pilot yells back.  "Two craft already down and that flak doesn't even give us a warning light like the radar lock the SAM's give us.  We'd be stupid to fly into it."
    The ships all bounce and rock violently as nearby flak explode in an attempt to ground them.  As they pass the range limits of the flak, they bank hard and take a new route that avoids taking any more unnecessary damage.  Finding a clearing near the town's affluent district they set down and the marines eagerly vacate their seats.
    "Charlie Lima, troops deployed."
    "Sierra Oscar, empty."
    "Kilo India, clear and ready to return."
    "Baker Mike, command, troops delivered."
    "Copy Baker Mike.  Evacuate to the south and hold position for possible emergency evac." Captain Page says.
    Baker Mike copies and leads the three other craft out of the area leaving the marines to their own designs.  The squads stand ready waiting for orders.
    Commander Jones steps in front of everyone.  "Listen up.  There's a defensive line from the town hall to the space port, but they're too spread out to do anything besides hold the line.  We're severely out of position, we lost a third of our company on the way in, but we're still going to push them back and away from the town as we originally intended.  Engage all hostiles, take 'em alive if possible.  This isn't going to be a bloodbath."
    "Sir!" the marines all state with a salute.
    Commander Jones continues.  "Two-Nine and Three-Six with me and One-Zero.  One-eight and Four-Seven on Lieutenant Robles and Nine-Nine.  Six-four and Seven-Two, head back to the downed craft and clear out any flak or missile turrets you find on your way.  They looked to be on automatic on the way in so expect light resistance."
    "Sir!" the marines all state again in unison.
    Gunshots ring out in the distance at a rapid pace.
    "Move out!" Commander Jones orders.
    The groups split up and each take different paths heading to the town hall.  As they approach the edge of the affluent district, about half way to their destination, shots erupt all around squad Two-Nine sending them scrambling for cover.
    "Two-Nine, we're pinned down!" Commander Jones barks out over the comms.
    "Three-Six copy, we're heading over." the squad leader replies.
    Smoke canisters fly from all directions as Three-Six attempts to make their way between buildings to get to Two-Nine.
    "Two-Nine to Three-Six" Commander Jones calls out when his vision of the street becomes obscured.
    "Three-Six almost there Two......  Cover!  Cover!" *static*
    A large explosion rocks the ground between the two squads followed by a more intense volley of gunfire.  Three-Six scrambles for what little bit of cover they can find.
    "Where's that coming from?" can be heard being yelled out.
    "Check the roofs!" a voice yells back.
    "Roof's clear! Roof's clear!" several voices yell out.
    "Damn it! Where's that fire coming from?" a voice yells out.
    Another large explosion rocks the passage squad Three-Six is stuck in.
    "Three-Six we're hit!  We're hit!"
    "Two-Nine, Three-Six how many?"
    "Three-Six, six down, six down.  Ambushed in the alley."
    Commander Jones turns around, "You four, clear Three-Six.
    "Roger sir...  Cover us across the street." the marine states as they rush across.
    "Two-Nine, Three-Six status?" Commander Jones asks.  "Two-Nine to Three-Six, status?"  Pausing for a couple seconds waiting for an answer. "Three-Six, status now!?"  Pausing another couple seconds. "Two-Nine, Command?"
    "Command." Captain Page answers
    "Two-Nine, Three-Six is down."
    "Two-Nine" *static* "stand-by." *static* "Nine" *static*****
    "Say again command." Commander Jones requests.
    *static*  "how" *static*
    "Two-Nine, command?" Commander Jones calls on the radio.
    ******static*******
    "Shit, we've lost command." he mutters out loud to himself.
    Soon they hear a noise like a power cell charging up followed by large blast ripping apart a house face a couple buildings from their position.
    "The hell?!" Commander Jones asks in confusion.
    The Two-Nine team members return and report in. "We couldn't get all the way down the alley without losing cover, but from what we could see, Three-Six is KIA.  No response from our calls."
    The charging up sound can be heard again...
    "MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!" Jones yells while his squad starts to run down the street dodging shots.
    They hear a loud crack as their previous cover is literally blown away.
    Kicking open a building door to gain entry, one of the marines yells, "Did anyone see where that came from?"
    "Negative." come the replies.
    Commander Jones, annoyed by the new developments begins barking out new orders. "You two, cover the rear, you, cover the front, frag anything that walks into your line of sight, you three, clear this building while I figure out our next move."
    "Did they see us come in?" one of the marines asks.
    "Take over watch on the roof, find us a target." Commander Jones replies to the marine.
    "Four-Seven, Two-Nine." comes in staticky over the comms.
    "Two-Nine go." Jones answers.
    "We're under heavy fire."
    "Same, some sort of pulse weapon."
    "Copy Two-Nine."
    "Two-Nine, Four-Seven, can you get back here?"
    "Negative, Two-Nine."
    "Copy, link up with the other squads and continue onto the objective."
    "Four-Seven, copy."
    "Commander!  We've got them, alley to the north."
    "Let's take out the big gun...  Squad, on me!" Jones yells.
    "Hu-rah!" comes the grunted reply.

(DS RP)

Aboard the DLS David, Lieutenant Sokolow enters the bridge, being met by the turned head of Admiral Draakjacht, "Lieutenant Gross says everything is in order."

"Yes, sir," she replies, "I recommend we perform a secondary shutdown of our communications network to update our security parameters."

"We might be able to detect anyone else trying the same thing," Lieutenant Gross interrupts. "If we put in a protocol requiring security clearance for any unrecognized signals, it should reduce the chance of this repeating, especially now that we have a better understanding of Vasari signals."

Alexander looks to him, "Won't that slow down our response time?"

Lieutenant Sokolow replies, causing Alexander to again turn his head, "For unidentified sources and civilian traffic, yes. We can place known sources, such as the Free Traders and High Gryphons transmitters on a trusted list, giving them a limited bandwidth for standard communications. That should reduce the chance of our catching anything too dangerous from known sources."

Alexander nods, "Alright, I'll give it a green light. Let the Free Traders know we'll be out of touch for a little bit. Everyone else can guess it for themselves. In the meantime, what do we have on the vessels coming and going?"

Lieutenant Commander Frishman responds from the tactical station, "We have Vasari vessels, all cleared by security. There is a small Flames of Vengeance presence, peaceful thus far, which I'm keeping all other vessels aware of and maintaining readiness, just in case. We have the usual civilian movement and some newer vessels which have cleared Free Trader IFF checks, but I'm keeping tabs on because I have no immediate data on them."

"Why am I not surprised that it's tactical keeping track of this?" Alexander smiles.

Frishman smiles in reply, "Because I don't trust a lot of these people."

"Good job, Lieutenant Commander," Alexander says. "Let's get this update taken care of and see if we can plow through the remainder of these refits."

"Sir," Lieutenant Gross calls out across the bridge, "We're receiving reports of weapons fire in the capital city."

"Is command requesting assistance?" Alexander asks.

"No, sir," comes the reply. "The communications are all over the place. Sounds like at least two transports are down, marines engaged hostiles... no clear word from command."

"Hail their command station and get me whoever's in charge."

"Yes, sir."

While the lieutenant proceeds with his assigned task, Alexander turns to Frishman, "Lieutenant Commander, have all fighter squadrons prepared and on standby. Load up marines and have them prepared for deployment the moment we get a green light."

"Yes, sir," Frishman replies as his fingers busy themselves and he opens a channel across all decks.

"Sir, I'm not getting through," Gross reports.

Alexander turns back, "Send out a call to all Free Trader stations. I need someone who can give me intel on what's going on down there. Inform them of our ready status."

The bridge buzzes as individuals, even those not explicitly assigned to a task, do their best to procure what information available and ensure all operations are ready at a moment's notice.

In the Affluent District of Tuilelaith, Lieutenant Pollock lies on a bed, face down and nude, while a man rubs her back. Pops sound in the distance, followed by louder and louder pops, not so much growing closer as being louder in their origin. Pollock lifts her head and shortly after the masseuse pauses his duty. A crash sounds in the distance and Pollock rises on her elbows. Commander Landauer rushes into the room, fully clothed but without every button and crease carefully placed, and reaches over to where Pollock's clothing is placed. As he lifts up her pants, he informs her, "There's fighting going on outside. We have to move."

He tosses her the pants as she jumps from the bed, catching them just after her feet land. As she pulls them up her legs, Landauer grabs a hold of her other clothing, unfolding them with a flick of his wrist and throwing them to her in rapid succession. As she fits them on, he picks up her holstered sidearm, taking it from its sheath and loading a round into the chamber. He tosses the gun to her, which is successfully caught as she has already thrown her garbs on. He pulls his own weapon and looks to the masseuse, who backs away from the scenario, "You stay here and take cover."

The two exit the building and take cover near a corner. Rattles and pops of varying gunfire sound from several places. Bursts of smoke and hot embers litter the air intermittently. The two survey the increasingly cloudy atmosphere as noise envelopes them. Pollock asks Landauer, "Any idea what's going on here?"

"Not a clue. Rebellion? Invasion?"

Pollock looks up, "We're not fried, so it's looking better than invasion."

"Doesn't matter. We need to get to the town hall."

"If you were a rebel, wouldn't that be the first place you go?"

"If I were local security, that's the first place I would defend. Besides, it's half way between here and the port. We're heading that way, regardless."

"Right, let's get moving," she says before the two start moving north, hugging close to the walls and taking caution at corners. After a block passes, a group of men come around a distant corner, dressed as civilians, but wielding assault weaponry. As they sight the pair, one of them yells out an indiscernible order and most raise their weapons. Landauer lifts his pistol, firing upon the man in the lead. As he falls, the other return fire, peppering the building walls as the two Lions take cover. Pollock turns her gun around the corner, her hand alone revealed, and fires off two rounds.

Landauer tells her, "Don't waste ammunition."

"Just laying down cover fire."

"Well, I only have one spare clip, so we have to play it conservatively."

"Right."

Landauer directs Pollock to follow and the two cut through the thinner alleyways, taking every turn possible to reduce the chance of pursuit.

As they move, the gunfire grows in intensity and other explosions join the myriad of sounds. The few alleys that would provide a clear view of the streets are fogged up with one element or another. Landauer and Pollock come to a stop, each covering a given direction with arms at the ready.

"If we're going to be shot at so much, we might need better weapons," Pollock insists.

"That might be easier if..."

The two pause, their ears perked up at the sound of an energy build up. Unseen, an energy weapon discharges, the sound forcing both of them to duck down low. The alleyways echo with the roar of a building giving under the force of the shot, the dust from the event rushing down the narrow corridors. Soon the area is swept over and the two lift their jackets to their faces, squinting their eyes to resist the blinding effect of the concrete dust. They rush from their position without concern for coming across enemies, desperate to merely escape the choking particles in the air. As they come out into a street, Landauer raises his pistol, for all the good it would do with his hazy vision and lack of cover.

"What the hell was that?" Pollock coughs.

"I have no idea. Sounds like they have something big, but I'm not aiming to find out what. Come on, we need to keep moving."

They continue on, hearing the energy weapon fire again as they move, but now beyond the area of the weapon's effect. Pollock attempts to text out their location to the other Lions, only to find herself frustrated by the little, yellow device, "Everyone else is jamming up the network. These things weren't meant for a combat situation."

A series of bullets rip into the wall a few feet from their position, causing Pollock to drop the device and them both to drop to their knees, turning toward the hostile and open fire. The target goes down quickly, but he was merely the most forward individual of a small unit. As the larger group approaches, the Lions withdraw to the cover of nearby corner. The rebels fire freely with automatic weapons while the Lions space apart their shots, waiting for calm moments to expend a few, precious rounds. The two manage to keep their opponents at bay without using much of their resources, but they reach the tail end of their first clips soon enough for concern. Landauer cycles out to a new clip while Pollock fires the last of hers. He extends out, firing a single round.

"We have to lose the last of these men," he says.

Pollock nods as she drops her empty clip, raising the fresh one to the pistol. A wet pop is heard and her clip falls from her hand. Landauer looks at her face, a numb calmness across it. His eyes lower to find a dark red spot on her abdomen. He looks out of the alleyway, no sight of a sniper or other gunman from the direction the round must have originated. He looks back to Pollock and hears a snap as a chunk of brick is torn loose from the side of the building. He grabs hold of her and drags her deeper into alleyway. After lying her down, he rushes back, grabbing the clip while ducking low in spite of no shot firing. He returns to Pollock, pulling off his jacket and bunching it up. He places it over her wound while pointing firearm down the alleyway.

"I think..."

"No, don't talk," he tells her. "Just stay quiet. We need to keep pressure on the wound. Can you do that?"

She reaches down with a lazy hand and brushes against the jacket, but fails to place any force on it. Her eyes drift about and her breathing grows heavy.

Landauer swallows, "Oh God, don't die on me. Please, don't die on me."

He hears an explosion sound farther south, a noticeably loud one. He glances between his hand on her wound, the navy blue jacket now darkening on the underside, the communicator on his belt and the length of the alleyway. He grits his teeth, "God, damn it."

Although he hopes for the better, he worries when more explosions sound in the distance, the engines of air fighters growing closer and steadier, and a few clearly rebel fighters pass the alleyway in such a hurry that they fail to take notice of his presence.

Captain Levin continues to work with Lieutenant Commander Harari over his communication device until he finds it nonresponsive. After waiting a few moments to see if it will complete the message transfer, he turns his head up to the sound of weapons fire coming from the terminal entrance. He lowers the communicator to his side, hooking it on his belt before sliding his pistol from its holster. He waits a moment, again hearing the noise, but this time with more rounds fired in closer time. He already knows this is not some maniac wielding a gun. There are multiple assailants. He looks back, farther into the space port, and gives himself a moment of pause before turning completely to head away from the entrance.

He moves about the terminal's closest edge, poking through windows that face away from the city and taking note of entrances for terminal staff. The sounds in the distance become more numerous, but remain outside. After some wandering, he finds signs of a roof access on the outside of the terminal, but resting where no jet bridge offers ready access. He surveys the immediate area until he notes a door labeled 'Security: Authorized Personnel Only'. He figures to try the handle, finding it locked, as he would imagine. The door jamb only allows the door to open inward, blocking any access gained by a card or other hard object. It possibly wouldn't matter as a security panel sits on the wall next to the door, the lock likely being magnetic. He steps back and chooses to forfeit a portion of his paycheck when he fires three rounds into the door, the last striking the sweet spot and cracking the handle. He approaches the door, kicking it as he arrives and watching it swing open.

Inside he finds a group of offices and monitors, standard security for any space port. With a little patience and luck, he finds an arms cage with another magnetic lock sealing it. He dwindles away a touch more of his pay when he pumps two rounds into the device. Although there is a certain irony in using a gun to gain access to guns, there is also a large payoff. Inside he finds a variety of assault rifles and even longer range rifles. Combined with a pair of binoculars he recovers from a security desk, he considers himself ready for the oncoming task.

The security office has a back door leading to a ramp for quick deployment onto the launching grounds. Using that, he gains access to the outside and a clear path to the roof access. He straps the equipment to his person and makes it across the concrete clearing and up the roof access. Once on top of the terminal, he begins his path across the breadth of the building. By now flak has left smoke hanging in the air and large explosions are visible on the southern end of the city. Approaching the front of the structure, he sights two individuals in prone positions, dressed in civilian outfits and firing down below with rather capable arms. As he gets closer, he can tell from the collateral damage and an enhanced view of the streets that they are fighting it out with security officials, which suffer a rather severe terrain disadvantage.

As Levin approaches, he lifts his pistol and pops off a round, striking one of the shooters square in the back and causing him to slump flat on the ground. The other shooter takes notice and turns, his rifle held in place by the bipod attached. Once he makes eye contact with Levin, two rounds are fired to put him down. Approaching the edge, Levin slips the weapons from his back and pulls his jacket off, waving it in the air. The men below identify him and signal back before turning their attention elsewhere. Levin hunkers down and lies each weapon in its own spot. He pulls the binoculars from his belt and looks out into the city. Smoke rises from the southern end in a great pillar and air units are making their approach. Dust rises in one place or another, marking some of the spots where infantrymen clash. Within his line of sight, there are two, perhaps three groups in combat.

He lies the binoculars down and lifts the rifle. The scope attached is fairly weak, but it barely crosses his mind as he lifts it up and homes in on the first of many targets. He fires, the rifle kicking too high up and causing him to miss. Upon reestablishing his sight, he realizes the targets are too distracted by the nearby combat to notice a single shot out of place. He fires again, striking a bit low of his aim, the bullet piercing the top of the back rather than the head. He overcompensated, but as long as he can hit his targets, he figures a low shot is better than a missed shot. That doesn't keep him from missing other shots, but with better than sixty percent of his shots hitting somewhere on the torso or head, he's fairly pleased.

Captain Borovsky and Corporal Nelson strike their glasses together, the ale tipping over the edges as the song and sounds of merriment carry the foam a short distance through the air before allowing them to fall to the ground where a white splash leaves drops of soon-to-be sticky residue on Borovsky's shoe. The banter and tunes dance around until a light pop, barely heard under the waves of celebration, stops one of the instruments and attracts the attention of a few individuals. The next group of pops and the realization of the song's incompleteness bring a few more people to attention and that brings a few more and a few more until the entire bar is quite, except for the rapid popping far off. A deeper sound, something akin to a heavy thud, adds to the cacophony.

People begin to look around with worry draped across their faces, mutterings taking up the space previously held by laughter and jest. Borovsky and Nelson both drop their glasses, ignoring the shattered glass and spilt drink as they head to the far end of the bar, near the door. Nelson slaps the surface repeatedly, causing the attendant to quickly pull their arms from stow and, with shaky hands, deliver the weaponry.

The two proceed from the bar, preparing their weapons and walking firmly toward the distant commotion.

"Looks like a bit of trouble, da?"

Nelson smiles, "You said it, Nicolai."

The two walk some distance before they find a couple of men hunkered down near a corner, watching for anything coming from the other end of the street. With no notable apparel and weapons at the ready, Nelson looks to Borovsky with eyebrows held high. Borovsky simply nods, his lips bent in a pouty frown meant more to shape his prominent beard than to express emotion. Borovsky takes the lead, the two approaching as silently as possible.

The individual farthest from the corner keeps his eyes peeled for anything coming. He then feels a finger firmly tap his shoulder twice, to which he turns to find a barrel-chested captain looking down on him.

"Dobryj den," the captain says with a thick, Russian accent stewing in a deep voice. The man attempts to turn his body, but the captain rears back his thick arms and slams the whole of his round fist through the man's face, rendering him unconscious before he can meet the ground. His comrade is alerted as the body falls. He initially looks to the captain before noticing another figure quickly approaching in his peripheral vision. He turns to find Nelson thrusting his arm, the grip he has on his pistol twisting upward and meeting the man's jaw. He contacts, sending a small smatter of blood from the man's lips and sending him to the ground. The man moves about in a lazy fashion before Nelson strikes him again, using the pistol with a backhand swipe to hit his head.

Borovsky stands tall, watching over the area with his chest puffed out as Nelson strips the men of their weapons and accompanying ammunition supplies. When finished, he hands one of the assault rifles off to Borovsky and a couple of clips for good measure. A large explosion sounds and dust rises in the distance. Nelson fits the last of the clips in his pockets, "That came from the direction of the town hall."

"Da, perhaps we say go hi."

"Well, I don't remember being invited to the party, but this whole sector strikes me as a potluck kinda place."

Borovsky lifts an eyebrow at Nelson, causing Nelson to shrug, "A potluck is what we call it when everyone brings a dish for dinner. It's a community thing."

"Ah," Borovsky says before lifting the assault rifle and cycling the next round into the chamber. "This is dish we bring."

"That's right," Nelson smiles. "And we have enough for everybody."

"Da, is good source of lead."

The two move forward, Borovsky's weapon firm in hand, but held low while Nelson keeps his at the ready, his eye kept near the sight. They surprise at least two groups of men, both low in numbers thus allowing them to dispatch the hostiles quickly. They meet one last group within a stone's throw of the town hall, which is now cluttered with the noise of gunfire. One of the rebels turns to attend a technical matter regarding his weapon. With that, he sights the two and makes a loud sound, which is immediately silenced by a round to the chest, but not without first making his fellow rebels aware. Borovsky and Nelson fire into the group as they strafe into an alleyway, dropping three of the men in the process. Nelson attempts to swing around between volleys of fire, only to get a swift reaction from the opponents and pulling back behind cover in time to get a spray of broken stone from the building's corner. He dabs the area next to his eye to find small spots of blood, which he frowns upon discovering.

"Hey, mind giving me a distraction?"

Borovsky looks at Nelson with an eyebrow held high again, "Distraction?"

Nelson smiles before glancing past Borovsky. His grin grows wider as Borovsky follows his vision to find a group of large trash cans resting against the building. The captain puts his weapon down and grips onto one of the cans, lifting it high over his head. His chest and face are puffed out like some overzealous bird as he vaults the receptacle into the air. The rebels watch the can tumble out onto the street, the noses of their weapons following along. When the can first strikes the ground, Nelson turns his body around the corner and begins rattling off rounds. Another few fall, the others either redirecting themselves or taking cover. No matter the case, Nelson's weapon runs dry of rounds and he pulls back behind cover. Borovsky hands him a magazine which the marine quickly switches out.

More fire sounds nearby and multiple voices sound out. As the sounds approach, the two take cover behind the trash cans. A group of properly uniformed soldiers, a mixture of factions represented, move by in formation, their weapons at the ready as they quickly clear the corners. Soon behind them pass a motley group, including humans, Advent and Vasari.

Nelson whispers, "Was that that Roesh fellow?"

"Da, he is pirate, you know," comes the reply.

"Really?"

"Da."

"Huh, I like him already."

The last of the escort passes without notice and the two skulk out from their cover to continue their exploration of the potential festivities which will make due in place of their barroom antics.

(DS)

    Up on the hills surrounding the city a squad of marines come across a peculiar little device.
    "I think we found something Sergeant." one of the marines states.
    "Let's have a look." he says while walking up.  He eyes the device and then looks back at command.  "It's a clean straight line shot.  This might be the device we're looking for."
    "I'll see if we can disable it." the marine states while reaching for the device.
    "NO WAIT!" the sergeant yells, but it was too late.
    The marine already had grabbed the device setting off it's tamper protection.  The device loudly squeals and then explodes killing the squad standing around it.  The explosion sends a cloud of dust flying into the air which grabs the attention of everyone nearby.
    "Star base Sorsk to forward command...  Come in please..." chimes in over the radio.
    "Stand by." Captain Jones says into the mic before walking back to the doorway.  "Recall Delta Company back to command.  Have the first squad that comes back go investigate that detonation up on the hill.  Inform Charlie Company to block the roads and keep their eyes open on the countryside.  I want to know if anyone tries to leave."
    "Yes sir." the group replies and heads back to their stations coordinating the recall and redistribution of their forces.
    Captain Jones walks back over to the main radio.  "Go ahead Sorsk."

    "Sir." the comms officer reports.  We've re-established communication with forward command."
    Major Navarro walks over and takes over at the comms officer's station. "Captain, what's going on down there?"
    "Seems these rebels were a little more prepared for us then we had thought."
    "It would seem so, Captain.  What's your status down there?"
    "Alpha company met strong resistance and has taken casualties, Bravo company went in for support and we lost communications.  Delta Company seems to have fixed that issue.  We're trying to get updates from the field right now."
    "The bosses and their guests have fled the city, we have evac teams on the way." Navarro states.
    "Yes sir."
    "We're also sending down two more battalions, and when they arrive I'll be taking over command."
    "Yes sir.  I'll have up to the second updates prepared for your arrival."
    "Good.  Sorsk out."  Major Navarro stands up, "Prep a shuttle for me and a squadron of gunships to head planet side.  This is turning into a nightmare..."



    "Four-Seven!" Lieutenant Robles yells out.  Weapons fire forces him to retreat further behind the wall.
    "Lieutenant!" A voice yells.  "We're down, but not out!"
    "Find better cover!" Robles yells.
    "No problem." the voice yells back.
    "Alright Nine-Nine, let's do some damage." Robles says to his squad.
    "Hurrah!" his squad replies.

    One-Eight jumps in to help Four-Seven, still under heavy fire, to a position of better cover inside the building.  Once they're inside, One-Eight goes to work patching up Four-Seven's wounded.  Nine-Nine enters the building they're shielded by and tries to find way to take shots at their enemies while still retaining enough cover to be protected from the big gun.  Once Four-Seven is all bandaged up, One-Eight joins in the effort to assist Nine-Nine in trying to take shots at their enemy while still maintaining cover.  Both squads send people up to the roof to provide over watch.


    "Command to Commander Davis." Captain Page calls on the radio.
    "Davis." Commander Davis replies into his radio.
    "What's Bravo's status?" Page requests.
    "Minor damage, we've cleared out that anti aircraft thanks to Alpha Company letting them heat the sky up and getting some target practice in.  Less then a minute to the hot zone.  Nice to have comms back."
    "Copy.  Command to Commander Jones?"


    Heading over to Four-Seven's location as fast as they can while still being cautious to not get caught in any ambushes or automated defenses, Two-Nine and One-Zero find themselves rapidly advancing without much resistance.  Following the sounds of battle they zero in on the location of the rest of their company.  They hear the cannon charging up and firing followed by Lieutenant Robles calling out to Four-Seven.  Giving up on their own personal safety, they run only stopping to clear the crossroads before they bolt across.  Joining the fight several houses to the south, the squads stagger their advance and leap frog over each other doing their best to maintain cover.  Upon reaching the house where Four-Seven is located, they join them inside.



    General quarters klaxons sound throughout the Sorsk sending crews scrambling to their stations.  Further instructions over the internal comms alerts all marines on the station to head to the hanger bays and prepare for deployment.  Two battalions load up in transports and wait for further orders.  Strike craft pilots climb into the eight available gunships and start their engines up.
    "Alright gents, let's heat these kabobs up and get out there.  I want to hit something and hit it hard, so full checks are in order." the squadron commander states over the comms.
    Following the completion of the system checks, the gunships pop up off the ground and exit the hanger bay.  Major Navarro jogs in and walks right onto a shuttle that was prepped for his arrival.  His shuttle pops up off the ground as soon as he's inside, followed by the marine transports already waiting to go.  In formation the gunships lead the way screaming to the planet.



    "Copy.  Command to Commander Jones?" Captain Page requests.
    "Commander Jones, Command, we thought we lost you."
    "Not quite, what's Alpha's status?"
    "Three-Six is gone. Four-Seven is down.  Looks like One-Eight and Nine-Nine are holding point.  Two-Nine and One-Zero are with me.  We just got to Four-Seven."
    "Davis to Jones." Commander Jones calls over the radio.
    "Jones." Commander Jones replies.
    "We picked up the rest of your company, we're about to drop in hot right on top of you." Davis states.




    "Sirs." A marine says rushing into the main room of O'Malley's.  "Comms are back..."
    "Good.  Find out how long we're going to be here and be quick about it." Henry says.
    "Yes sir." the marine states with a salute and then head's back to the roof.

    "Contact.  Tango to the South." A marine with a sniper rifle states almost under his breath.
    "Hold your fire." his sergeant states while taking a look through his own scope.
    The first marine gets on his comm, "Protection detail to forward command."
    "Command, go." Captain Page responds.
    "Command, the boss wants to know the ETA for evac."
    "Protection.  We show them on fast approach, should be only about fifteen more minutes."
    "Thanks command."
    The marine rushes back downstairs to deliver his report, then returns to the roof.




    "Bravo Company!" Commander Davis yells out over the comms.  "Let's do this!"
    The transports scream in over Alpha company's position and drop to rooftop level.  Marines fast deploy out every available exit and repel down to the ground.  The ships that can't reach the position fly a circle around above with doors open so the marines inside can lay down suppressive fire until the ground clears enough for them to be dropped in.  In less then a minute, both Alpha and Bravo companies are on the ground and storming the enemy's position laying down so much cover fire that no one has a chance to react.  Having no where to go and being greatly outnumbered the rebels on the street give up.  Squads Two-Nine and One-Zero hustle back to Two-Nine's original ambush site to collect the bodies of their fallen comrades.  One-Eight assists Four-Seven onto another transport to be taken back to command for proper medical attention but remain behind themselves.  Five-Five and Nine-Zero split their prisoners up into different transports and go with them back to command.  The remaining squads from Alpha Company and Bravo Company destroy the cannon and continue to move North and take on all pockets of resistance that they encounter on their way to reinforce the guards at the town hall.



    "Shit, we're getting out of here.  Their communications are restored and they're acting as a coordinated group again." One of the rebels says.
    "Oh relax, we haven't lost yet." Riona shoots back.
    "Yeah, yet, me and mine are getting out of here while we still can." the rebel says again.
    "I would tend to agree with your friend there." Kieran states calmly.
    "You both are cowards." she says.
    "I prefer the term wise beyond my years." Kieran states.  "They have more firepower then us and they're probably bringing in more considering the ass kicking we gave them while we had their comms shut down.  The smart thing to do is get out while we still have the opportunity."
    Riona thinks for a few seconds before ultimately succumbing to better judgement.  "Fine, we'll go."
    "Great.  I have a place in mind."
    "By all means then, lead the way."
    Kieran stands up and makes a quick exit to the East.



    Bravo Company, still making their push forward to the town hall, encounters pockets of heavy resistance, rebels unaware that they're losing the fight.
    "Commander Davis, sir." A sergeant jogs up to the group of officers behind the fighting force.  "We've spotted more of those..."
    The sergeant is cut off by several explosions near the lead squads.
    "More big guns, huh?" Davis asks nonchalantly.
    "Yes sir.  Four of them.  One East, one West, two ahead and tucked out of the way until they're ready to fire apparently." the sergeant says.
    Commander Jones looks over the remaining half of his company, "Alpha Company, we're going to head a couple blocks South and then West of here.  We'll try to come up behind them and remove one from the equation."
    Commander Davis nods and as Alpha Company heads off, he addresses a couple of his lieutenants.  "Take half of our company South and then to the East to take out the cannon over there.  The rest of Bravo will sit here and act as decoy and keep them paying attention to us."
    "Sir." the lieutenants say before jogging off and barking out orders themselves.
    Several squads break from the group and quickly make their way to the South.
    "Alright boys and girls..." Commander Davis says walking closer to the front line.  "We're earning our chow today.  Throw enough ammo at those things to keep them shooting back and not running away.  Give our people a chance to take 'em out."
    Before he can finish his comment, a female marine is shot in the chest near her shoulder and falls to the ground.
    "Medic!  We've got a wounded walking mattress up here." one of the front line marines yells as he drags her off the line.
    "Shove it up your ass before I kick you in the snot box, Jimbo." she yells back grunting in pain.
    "Relax, Ronny.  The corpsman will patch you up and you can get back to being your usual Jane Wayne self."
    "Nice work, soldier." Davis says after walking over to inspect the damage himself.  "Make 'em think they're winning...  Just don't make it a habit."
    "Not me, sir." she says before wincing in pain as the corpsman pulls away her body armor to expose the wound.  "I prefer shooting targets, not being one."



    Kieran eyes up the comm center in the distance admiring the added security near it's perimeter.  He itches the top of his nose real quick before turning to the South.
    "Where are we headed exactly?" Riona asks.
    "Away from the fighting to a place where we can escape the city." Kieran states.  "We can't take the roads and the hillsides are probably being watched.  We need a more...  Clandestine exit."
    "I agree." Riona states.  "Let's get there and get there quickly.


    Alpha Company makes their way over a few streets and then turns to the North.  They encounter no resistance until they near the cannon's position.  Upon being discovered, Alpha company takes cover and methodically begins their advance on the cannon's position.  The half of Bravo Company going after the other cannon fares much better in the sense that they're able to approach the cannon's position and take up defensive positions before their firefight begins.



    "Zulu Sierra to Command, on approach bearing gifts of prisoners and jarheads." the  transport's pilot states over the comms.
    "Copy Zulu Sierra." Captain Page says.  "Swing around back.  Delta will be waiting."
    "Copy, sir."
    Zulu Sierra and the accompanying transports coast low over the bulk cargo port and drop down behind command.  The prisoners and wounded are unloaded quickly and the squads from Alpha company urge the pilots to get them back to action as quickly as possible.  The pilots are more then happy to burn off the extra fuel to oblige them.

 



(DS Roleplay / Finley 1 , Finley System)






Part Fifty Two of Teir -

-Teal




http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=99uAzb8h10U

Sere-

The Truth-

Part 1

November 24th, 2287 (11.24.2287.10.0)




The car rocked with a slow even rhythm over the dirt road, coming up from the

Comm Center toward the city. Dust billowed

up under the hover fans and spilled back and washing against the windows in a

streaming dark mist that fell back and

swirled in slow eddies in the wake of the cars passage, slowly settling back down

again to the ground.




Dreams...




Dreams stirred at the edges of Sere's mind.




Echoes of training.




Of her arrival and doubt on Petrograd...




Reaching back to the ship and the anguish of her flight from Galan and the incoming

missiles, with crawlers dropping from a

black, smoke strewn sky amidst flashes of laser fire that streaked out of the clouds

and struck in the distance with bright and

gleaming flares of light.




Burning.




Burning.




She had turned her face away from the port window then, feeling the sudden flash

of light as if it were heat on her skin as

the slim disciple ship rose through the blackened, brightening, brutal sky towards

orbit and the Capital ship that waited,

with her mooring lines cut and drifting in the slow eddy of the gravity breeze.




Below, through the smoke clouds, the ground flared bright white, dimming to

yellow then orange and red as the after image

of the striking beam from the Vaa' Sar ships in orbit died away, the beams crossing

and recrossing the triangulations of their

horrible weapons.




The ship rose and the clouds fell behind.




They were dying below.




Dying.




They were all dying...




All of them.




All.




All of...




The car moved west, coming in off the eastern most road. Flashes in the distance

glared on the horizon for instants, then

faded, black smoke pouring up in the hazy early morning sky. The driver never

slowed but kept his foot floored on the pedal

as the car rumbled with the push of tremblor shock waves that spilled back from the

blasts.




“Is there another road in? Can we get off this road, and find another way in?” Siegel

asked; staring at the driver, as he

unbuttoned the flap of his holster and pulled his gun, checking the chamber, then

glancing into the back seat where Pris and

Sere suddenly opened their eyes and sat straight up. Glancing forward, Sere took in

the push of black clouds from the blast

rising into the sky. Pris started chattering away almost instantly to Sere reading the

driver and Siegel's concern.




The driver, dark with a swath of a black mustache over a pouting lip shook his head

and grunted keeping his dark eyes on the

horizon and the sudden flashes that came with increasing frequency.




He chewed his lip a moment then glanced at Siegel.




“No way, dis is all, other no way. ” the man spit between brownish teeth set in a

dark face, his hands on the steering wheel

tight and white knuckled, glancing with dark eyes set in a thin face at Siegel and the

gun in his hand, raising an eyebrow,

then back to the road. Dust billowing up from underneath the car as they sped over

the dry and hard packed road.




“Alla south no good no.” The driver shook his head again.




“Can we cut through the brush, across the farmland, head north?”




The driver looked at Siegel and smiled.




“No you drive afore, eh? Grass no good, water no good. Fans fu...,” he glanced back

at the girls in the back seat where Pris

was narrowing her eyes at him with a sneer on her face.




“Fans... mess up, you know you, yes? Alla mess.”




“Yeah, but we gotta get off this road, who ever is doing this, they are bound to have

patrols posted--”




Thin pops came up then, the mirror on the drivers side suddenly exploding in a

spray of plastic and glass, a ping came off the

car body somewhere toward the back, the driver veered hard, pulling left and

pulling the car into a slide, the fans roared

suddenly as the nose of the car came up, then as the nose settled back down,

dimming to a low rush of blades.




“Sahkti!” The driver yelled his eyes wide, pulling hard left, hitting the brake and

flipping the fan control off. He started to

shake, his hands on the wheel trembling.




“Alla time tell wife, no come here no, nice money, lots work, very nice money but

guns, too much, too much guns and Big

lizard's talk and White eyes talk and White people talk... alla time smile and give

money, but too much guns. Health is no

good too much guns, you know?”




He pulled the steering column hard as the car slid almost completely around and

rocked as it came to a stop.

Siegel threw open the passenger side door and fell to his right, hitting the ground

hard rolling, he stumbled to his feet

running around the car for the back door away from where the bullets had seemed

to come from, and yanked it open.




“Keep low and get out as fast as you can, they're probably--”




More bullets pounded in a staccato rhythmic burst into the car on the other side.

Steam poured out of the front of the car as

the pressure lines that drove the fans burst.




Well then, they weren't going to be going anywhere soon, unless they started

walking then.




The driver's door pushed open spilling the man out and down onto the ground, he

was cursing and yelling as he stumbled

away from the car, sprinting ahead and heading for the rice fields beyond.




“Hey!” Siegel yelled, but it was no good, the man didn't look back as he ran,

crouching and cursing in some unknown tongue

as he fell over the side of the road and into the thick brush of the rice plants

disappearing from view almost immediately.




More bullets pounded the car.




Siegel and Sere and Pris lay prone in the dust as bullets pinged off the back end and

began to rotate around the edge of the

car.




Somebody, how many?




Siegel figured two or three, there had only been two types of guns used so far, and

small squads could pin down any traffic

on the thin roads in and out of the capital fairly easily. The bullets that hit the car

first were from a single shot hand gun, low

caliber, you could hear it in the thin popping sound it made when the gun went off.

The other bullets however, the ones

pounding the metal skin now was a medium caliber automatic, and they strafed the

back end in erratic bursts that started

then stopped then started again.




As soon as the spray stopped, Sere started to stand up, moving in a blur, Siegel wide

eyed grabbed at her, his hand closing

around a fistful of white dress.




“Get down!” he yelled, a little harsher than he wanted, but he couldn't just let her

stand up and walk into a gunfight and get

herself killed.




She glanced at him hard for a moment, then her look softened and then sat down

again.




The bullets pounded off the car in short bursts again, moving around closer as

whoever held the gun walked in a circle

around the car, spilling bullets into the metal and then into the dirt beyond the

edge of the car as the gunman came around

the end of the car.




Siegel raised his gun and took aim,




slowly...




Slowly...




The figure stepped out from the edge of the car,




He squeezed off two quick rounds knocking the man back, the burst stopped. He

jumped to his feet and ran then, “Stay low,

let me check this--” he came to a quick stop as he stood at the edge of the car, there

probably was another one still out

there, but he grimaced when he saw the downed figure was a teenage girl. He

reached out and touched her arm and she

groaned. Dark blood spots blossomed quickly out from her lower shirt. She wore

khaki pants and boots, a blue shirt and a

white Hijab headdress that wound around her black hair.




Her eyes were dark.




She blinked hard a few times, shook her head as if she were losing focus and tried

to sit up, but only managed to raise her

head before she fell back, groaning with the movement.




Pris was up and moving almost instantly, Sere at her elbow as the two women ran

up to the car and then fell to their knees

beside Siegel and the girl.




“What do I do...?” Pris looked at the girl and gritted her teeth hard, she wasn't a...




In her mind she remembered the clinic, the nurses and the doctor there, as she had

helped take linens and clean bed

clothes into the empty rooms and lay them out for whoever would need them.




Once one of the men, one of the older youths from the gangs had come in, he had

been shot. She had stood transfixed as

the nurses had moved in a synchronized ballet about him, pulling back the shirt and

cleaning out the wound.




T'e Lir had stood above him, her dark hair pulled back as she had leaned in close and

closed her eyes, looking instead with

her mind into the man's body where the bullets had lodged.




Pris snapped her eyes open and stared at the girl on the ground.




If she didn't...




If she didn't try, then the girl would die.




“I can do this!” Pris closed her eyes and reached out slowly with her mind and felt

the girl's consciousness at the edge of her

mind.




Pain!




It roared into her like a stab of hot metal sudden and overwhelming, Pris rocked

back on her knees feeling the black come

up fast and hard.




She gasped, then pulled back and blinked hard, then reached out slower...




Slower...




Until she,




Uhhh!




There!




Pris gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes tighter, reaching back and

remembering...




What was it Te' Lir had done?




The girl was losing consciousness fast, only a dull pain throbbed in her now as her

mind began to close off the part of her

body that was wounded, pushing her closer to shock.




She scooted up past Siegel and pulled her arm back and slapped the girl hard, the

girl's eye's snapped open suddenly as she

stared angrily at Pris kneeling above her.




“Don't you dare go into shock on me!” Pris hissed at the girl and then pushed her

hands against the girls shoulders as the girl

struggled underneath her.




“Hold her down please!” Pris almost yelled as Sere leaned over and pushed her

hands down onto the girl's arms firmly.




Siegel nodded to Sere as he watched Pris put her hands over one of the wounds and

close her eyes. She tilted her head

back, grimacing as her mind moved into the wound.

 

Deeper.

 

Reaching...

 

Reaching for...

 

There!

 

She closed her mind around the shard of metal wedged into the bleeding flesh.

 

And then she screamed!

 

In a gasp of pain as she jerked her hand up hard and the breath came out of her, she

moved her hand over away from the girl

and dropped a bullet into the dirt.




Siegel stared, but then just shook his head. He should have known. Witches could--




He stopped as Pris moved her hand over the other wound, her eyes were still

closed, as her fingers stopped then hovered

for a moment before she pressed her hand against the girls abdomen over the

other swell of blood, pushing down hard and

then tilting her head, as she searched for...

 

there!




She yelled out again as the pain went through her, as she yanked her hand back and

dropped the other bullet into the dirt.




Siegel stared and shook his head.




A girl!




He had shot a girl.




A young girl at that.




Damn! How could they send kids into battle?




But he'd seen enough worlds, wasted and destitute with almost nothing, and then

the money came and the people had

been given guns and food and clothes and they would do anything to keep it. Do

anything to crawl out of the dirt and the

mud and have something.




Hell, if he had grown up out here it might have been him all of seventeen laying in

the dirt here. He stood up slow and

helped Pris pull the girl back behind the edge of the car. The girl wore a single shot

pistol on her hip in a leather holster, the

automatic lay in the dirt next to her. He pulled off his jacket and draped it over the

girl.




“We have to keep her warm now. It's going to be a rough couple of hours, but if we

can keep her alive for at least a few

more hours she stands a chance at staying alive.”




Sere nodded.




“I'm not a witch.” Pris said.




“What?”




Siegel stared at her a moment and then suddenly remembered. He shook his head

and tried to grin.




“Sorry, forgive me, I shouldn't have...”




“It's all right.” Pris looked at him, then turned to the girl, leaning close, feeling the

breath in the girl moving in her own

chest.




So much pain!




The girl trembled as she lay under Siegel's jacket, shivering in the already rising

heat of the early morning.




Siegel watched the skyline beyond the car where plumes of smoke still rose.




Another white beam lanced out of the sky striking somewhere in the city in a

sudden glaring flash of light. The after image

dulling slowly on the back of his retina's.




He had to stay, had to help take care of the girl. She would die without them.




He gritted his teeth and turned looking out at the cliffs beyond the now mangled

car.




There probably wasn't another shooter still out there then, the girl had probably

been it. Given a pistol and automatic and

posted on the cliff side of the road coming into town with a single order. Stop

anything that tried to get through.




Whoever was attacking certainly had learned the hard way, just send a handful of

young kids with guns and space them out

over the three or so miles back into town to keep everybody bottled up on the

road.




It was cruel.




But also effective.




Had he been a Bedouin, he might have made the same choice.




Battle required it of you. You learned that quickly enough in the midst of it.




Morals and sentiments were an unnecessary baggage in rebellions.




Yet he couldn't afford to think like that, hated that there were those that 'could'

think like that.




But he understood how it had become necessary.




For them, it was all they had.




If they stopped themselves short of what had to be done, then they never would

win against those they fought against. He

hated it, but he understood it.

 

The sun was rising slowly, farther up along the slope of the sky, the heat rising in

slow waves off the hard packed dirt road

and steaming off the rice fields.




They still needed to get back into town, to see what was going on, he needed to get

the girls to safety and to get back to the

David's Lions to see what help he could be.




But that would all have to wait.




If there were those that could send these kids into battle without thinking of it,

then he was not one of them. The girl was

hurt and he had caused it.




Inadvertently, but still, he had pulled the trigger.




There had been times in his life that he had regretted actions that had seemed had

to be done in battle. Those had been

hard years, fighting his conscience and doubting his military life completely.




But the years had changed him slowly.




War was a sudden, in your face, act now and live with what followed kind of thing.

An experience spread out over a span of

minutes, or hours. Sometimes days or months. But you did what you had to do. You

did it, and went on.




You lived with the hurt and the pain and tried to help alleviate as much of it as you

could.




But you couldn't go on living doubting everything you did.




The ones that had, hadn't gone on.




They had either quit, leaving the service entirely or walked into battles blank eyed

and not come back.




You either learned to live with the fact that you were human and made mistakes.




Or you didn't.




It was as simple as that.




He looked at the girl laying on her back in the dirt with her eyes blinking open and

closed, Pris knelt over her and smoothed

her palms over the girls face, she was whispering something under her breath.




Slowly the girl's breathing slowed and calmed.




Her face slipping into a soft blankness.




“We have to leave, but I don't want to move her any more than we have to, that

means we either stay here and try to wait

until we can get out and bring her with us, or until someone comes in to pick us up.

If it's her people, then things are going

to get difficult and depending on how many come in, we may not get out of this. We

just have to make a decision. We stay

and try to help her, or we leave. Understood?”




Sere stared at him, but nodded slow.




Maybe she never would get her chance at the Alien. She unconsciously pressed her

lips tight, but she couldn't leave the girl.

He was right, they needed to stay and try to get her through this.




Pris nodded without hesitating.




She knew that Sere had come to do what she felt she had to do. But she also knew

she couldn't leave the girl.




She looked at Siegel and felt a surge of compassion for him. He was a 'human', she

had grown up hating 'humans'. They were

aggressive and hostile and ill mannered and arrogant and...

But Siegel was none of those things.




He was an honorable man, making his way in the hard world making hard decisions

and choices. And trying hard to make the

right ones as often as he could.




There were Advent that hadn't that much compassion for another life.




She had never expected to see it. It was something that had never occurred to her.

That a 'human' could actually feel

compassion.




But he did.




She watched him as he nodded his head, and then smiled.




“Okay, that's what we do then.”




They settled back against the frame of the car and waited then. The sun rising

higher in the sky as the early morning moved

its way into mid morning.




It was a long few hours.




Siegel often glanced at the horizon where the smoke rose, where high pitched

whining screeches rose on the thin air and

exploded in sudden and thunderous bursts.




His people were out there in the city, fighting, probably getting killed. He needed to

be there. Those were the people he

owed his allegiance to.




But he glanced at Sere and Pris and the Bedouin girl laying in the dirt with his jacket

over her and knew that these were his

people too.




They were his people now.




He needed to take care of them.




He checked his gun and lay back against the hard metal of the car frame and felt the

sun pull at him, making him drowsy. He

shook his head and rubbed at his eyes.




Time enough later to sleep.




If they all got through this.




Right now though he shifted against the car frame so he was not quite so

comfortable and watched the cliffs and the sky

over the city.




Given enough time, something would happen.




It always did.




He just hoped it was a good something.




Sere watched Siegel and smiled while Pris lay on the dirt next to the Bedouin girl.




Dust blew on the hot wind and smoke rose in the sky.

*

*

*




 End part 1 -