---

---

---

---

---

Once Upon A Time….. No, that’s not it.

They call me Ishmael….Wrong setting.

A long time ago in a galaxy far far away…...Wait, no.

Let me start over….

Every story has a beginning but it seems that no matter where we begin there is always more to the beginning than we may know; things that unravel as each word is presented. This is one such story. But each story does have a place that is the catalyst, the spark that ignited the events to come and created the fire needed to continue. That is where we will begin.



The day was like many others. The Tower had been quiet over the previous night, for the day that was just breaking dawn was to be a rather eventful one for them. One they had been bracing for. Today Silvia would leave home, for good, to start her final few months of training to be able to take control of her own tower on another planet. The crew of the Earth Tower had raised Silvia; she was more to them than just some high ranking talent. She was their friend, their little sister and they her family. The only one she could remember. They were protective of her and none in the tower, no matter how volatile and vocal Silvia could be, wanted her to leave but GTC had spoken. When GTC speaks, you listen.

Silvia did not need the training; she all but ran Earth Tower for Tower Lead Crisin when it was her down time but GTC was bureaucratic. Everything by the book and by the numbers. T-1 Silvia had not had enough time dealing with the foreign relations of other planets to be placed as a Tower Lead yet. Save some major catastrophe she would have to finish her training on Altentia; especially after all the trouble she had caused with various crews on other planets during her training over the years. Now as punishment from the GTC, she was being shipped off to train under the GTCs most loathed Tower Lead, Tristan. Yippie!

“beep….beep….Beep….Beep….BEep….BEep….BEEp….BEEp….BEEP….BEEP….BEEEEEEPPPPPP!”

The alarm started quietly as it did each morning, slowly adding volume and intensity before it suddenly rose from its place by the bed and went flying towards the wall. It went crashing into the rough surface and shattered; pieces flying to the floor before everything went still. Silence had been re-achieved. A soft groan came from under the covers of the bed that was situated in the corner of the room. Slowly a head emerged; soft ebony locks with streaks of silvery white could be seen framing a sleepy face that was accentuated with agitated eyes. “It’s too damn early…” a sharp voice echoed against the metal walls from a petite feminine figure. Silvia sat up and rubbed her eyes before rolling out of bed and dressing. Today she was leaving; her bags were packed by the door of her room, waiting for her with papers from the GTC documenting her transfer today. A harsh reminder from the uncaring corporation that she would leave her home today, perhaps for good.

Silvia sat down on the edge of her bed as she pulled her boots on; thinking to herself about everything that had lead up to this point. Sure, she could have not put the Tower Lead of Lirdem in the airlock of the substation of the moon Platrac, but he did try to grope her. She didn’t have to send the Head Of GTC Personnel from his cushy seat in the tower on Galax 284 right into the middle of an animal stampede, but he had refused to properly outfit the tower with enough high ranking talents to make sure that the local population was adequately taken care of. And she’d be damned if she would apologize for threatening to turn the Head Of Security For Deteria mind to prehistoric sludge if he ever laid his hand on another child. Hell, she wasn’t going to apologize for any of it but GTC had its regulations and sadly all of the offenders had followed them. Silvia had not. Now it was time to ship off and she shuddered at the thought of working for Tower Lead Tristan for the planet Altenia.

Pompous, arrogant, loathed was the rumor floating around the GTC grape vine. It gave her an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She wondered if it was only being made worse by the nightmares she had been having off and on recently; each one growing more intense as the nights passed. She hoped they would subside once she reached Altenia and was able to get settle in. The fact she had to make another jump today didn’t sit well with her either. Talents, in general, did not like space travel; at least T1's did not. It wasn’t that they were fearful but to put their lives in the hands of another talent always sat wrong with them. They were of the opinion they could do it themselves, they didn’t need help, and they could do it better than the one in charge of the jump. The higher the rank, the higher the ego for most. For Silvia, she just hated the ego of most high ranking talents and with what she had heard of concerning Tristan she wasn't in for an easy ride.

Shaking the thoughts out of her mind she rose from her place on the bed and walked over to the door, hitting the activation switch and it sliding open. The door moving into the metal face of the wall exposing the corridor on the other side and a male figure leaning back against the wall dressed in the tell-tale attire of the ranking security person of the tower. His arms crossed over his chest, with a tooth pick held lazily in his teeth as he smiled towards Silvia; flashing his teeth at her as his amber eyes twinkled in the low light of the earthen faced corridor.

“Morning angel,” he said with a broad smile as he held his arms out to her. Silvia growled for a moment before rolling her eyes and walking over to him; resting her head against him as she gave him a hug, his arms encircling her as she did. She was so small against him but then again Silvia was small compared to most. Even by pre-emergence standards she was short; these days she was concerned down right dwarfish in height.

“Hey Marx,” Silvia said as she stood there, still hugging him, seemingly refusing to let go. Marx just stood there and let her. Marx had taken a liking to Silvia when she was young, they grew up together in the tower. His parents were a set of T-2’s that had adopted him when he was a baby and with Silvia being an orphan herself they bonded like brother and sister over the years. Silvia did not want to leave one of the few she considered true family and he did not want her to go. Sadly there was nothing either of them could to do alter the upcoming events.

“Ready?” he asked as he pulled back and ruffled her hair. Silvia's eyes narrowed as his hand flew back suddenly and she smirked. “Okay, okay, no need to get rough,” he teased before stepping inside her room and grabbing her bags for her, slinging them over his shoulder. With his other hand he scooped her up and began to carry her effortlessly down the corridor towards the elevators.

“Put me down you oaf,” she sneered before smacking him on top of his head. Marx ignored her protests and just kept trudging on, finally setting her down when they reached the elevator itself. “Ugh, you!”

“Yes me, deal with it. I’ll carry you all the way to the docks if I want,” he said as he shot her a glance waiting for the doors to open. Silvia sighed, she didn’t want to fight with him and she knew he was just being playful. Marx was always this way with her. He teased he, messed with her but in the end she had seen him stand between her and many a bully as they were growing up protecting her until she could do so for herself.

The next moments seemed to whiz by in a blur. People coming up to Silvia as she made her way with Marx to the docking station for boarding; each one telling her good bye and good luck among other things. Their emotions were running wild and by the time Silvia reached her ship she had an enormous headache from all the free broadcasting of thought from the others. Thankfully the older woman standing at the walkway onto the transport ship was not. An older woman in simple but lush garb stood before her stoically.

“Are you ready?” the woman asked in a raspy voice that had come with age and decades of screaming at people for not doing their jobs up to the level she expected.

“As I will ever be Crisin,” Silvia stated flatly. Crisin was the Tower Lead for Earth and had raised Silvia since that fateful day she was recovered from beneath the wreckage of the mudslide that had claimed Silvia's home and family when she was but three years of age.

“Very well, good travels,” was all Crisin said before she vanished from sight and appeared in her seat in the Towers Main Operating room. Crisin had never been one to show affection but the fact that she had even made a personal appearance was more than enough for Silvia. That was about as much as she could expect from Crisin, she wasn’t going to push for more from her surrogate mother.

“Okay, time to go Silvia,” Marx pipped in as he walked out of the ship, having put her bags up for her. He didn’t wait for Silvia to say anything; he just grabbed her and hugged her tight. “You take care of yourself and don’t take any shit from that bastard Tristan okay?” he said quickly before pulling back and looking at her. “Your crystal is already loaded.”

Silvia nodded and took a deep breath before walking onto the ship and finding her seat. The door closing once she was situated and the air lock hissing slightly as the engines powered up. The soft whine of the turbine humming through the ship as Silvia took a deep breath, she trusted Crisin to send the ship off well but she didn’t trust Tristan to catch it softly. He wasn’t exactly known for his flair of crystal enhanced traveled.

Up in the main operations room of the tower, the monitors scrolled through the launching procedures and the large screen in the center of the room flickered on. “Earth Tower Lead Crisin set to send Transport Vessel E-253 from Earth Crystal Port A-1 to Main Catch Point for the planet Altenia,” Crisin stated in a flat work tone as the ship itself lifted from the Earth dock and made its way to the assigned Crystal Port.

On the monitor a gruff set of eyes and cruel lips looked around nonsensically. “Very well,” the man said with a wave of his hand. “Altenia Tower Lead Tristan set to catch Transport Vessel E-253 from Earth Crystal Port A-1 to our main catch point,” Tristan said without a care. “Watch your throw Crisin.”

“Watch your catch Tristan, this one contains precious cargo,” Crisin hissed in the monitor before she focused on the job at hand. Tristan could be seen through the monitor with a sneer on his lips before the monitor went dark. “Ass,” was the last word that slipped from Crisin lips before the gentle song of her crystal could be heard radiating through the room. Crisin's facial features went blank as the ship picked up speed and was suddenly gone from sight. A tunnel of light surrounded the vessel in Crisin's mind and she held it tight until she felt Tristan's catch at the Altenian Catch Point. Releasing her mental grasp on the ship Crisin leaned back in her chair and sighed. “I miss you already Silvia,” she whispered.



The ship came to a jarring halt as Tristan caught it, Silvia jutting forward in her seat slightly and growling under her breath. “For fuck sake, a ten year old can catch a cargo cruiser with more flair than that,” she muttered as she righted herself in her seat and waited for the ship to dock proper on the planet itself inside the tower. The ship maneuvering into place as it settled into the atmosphere and setting down within the Altenian Main Docking Port A1 for receiving.

“Ship docked sir,” a male like creature said looking over the monitors. He stood nearly seven feet tall and looked more like a giant firefly than a human.

“Fine, take care of it Craig,” Tristan spat before rising from his chair and making his way out of the Mor (main operations room) and headed to his private quarters. “Bring her too me once you’re finished,” was all he said before the doors closed.

“Fucking prick,” Craig said before shaking it off and taking a deep breath. “Well, MoR clear of Hurricane Tristan until next catch in 12 hours, relax everyone,” Craig said with a smile on his face. Several of the talents in the room started to laugh. They hated Tristan but Craig made working in the tower passable. Turning Craig rubbed his hands together, looking at the various talents in the room and then shrugged. "So, who wants to head down and retrieve our newest addition to the crew and get a first hand visual of Tristan's welcome to her once she is settled?" he asked, waiting for a volunteer.

Tryke Lockley

---

---

---

Tryke cracked her knuckles, looking at the decimated cruiser in front of her. Some jackass had decided to take it out for a spin, and from the state it was in, he couldn't have been anything but drunk. She sighed a bit, patting the broken cruiser tenderly, as if it was a wounded animal.

"Come on, let's get you fixed up," Tryke said soothingly. She went to work quickly, using the power of her crystal to help her see each and every spot within the cruiser where the power would no longer flow. With a million different resistors, capacitors, and wires, Tryke fixed each and every broken connection. For this, she could use her hands easily enough. It wasn't as fine as a tiny chip that needed replacing, which would have required her powers. After about two hour's of work, it was done. Every wire put in its place. Every bit of technology repaired, with only the paint needing to be redone.

Stepping back, Tryke wiped her forehead, a lovely smear of grease appearing across it. Flipping the ignition on, the cruiser roared to life, hovering gently in front of her. She flicked it off, before motioning towards one of her minions to take care of it, and ensure it was properly stored in one of the hangars.

"Lock, the new T-1 is here," Rorus, one of the repair specialists working underneath her, mentioned as he started to remove the cruiser.

Tryke sighed. It was bad enough with Tristan around here, smashing everything and expecting to put it all back together. The man had no limits, no boundaries, and no sense of control. Hopefully, the newbie wouldn't be anything like him.

"Are we still placing bets on how much an ego they'll have?" Tryke asked, attempting to wipe the grease off of her hands. Somehow, the mess seemed to only increase more and more.

Rorus grinned, and nodded. They didn't bet any real currency--mostly little bits and pieces of machines broken beyond repair. The winner could do whatever they liked with them, but they all ended up in Tryke's possession in the end. Currently, the team was joking around about building Tristan a robot girlfriend.

None of them expected that to go over well, though.

"Good," Tryke grinned. "So, what else is left to fix today? Has His Highness got anything pressing on the list?"

---

---

---

---

---

Pulling back on the bolt of his rifle, Tom confirmed that a round was loaded as he moved up to his pod, locking the weapon into place before moving to sit down in the pod, securing himself in place as the doors closed slowly on his, and all the surrounding pods. Isolated radio chatter was over the radio in the pod, and the displays began to light up as darkness filled the closed pod. There was a briefing going on one of the displays, but it was blurred out in Tom's head, he barely heard any of it. What he did hear was the countdown to drop.

He felt the sudden shift as the pod was launched from the carrier, the rattling and shaking of the pod as it slowly began to grow in ferocity, the displays on the pod showing the ground as it got closer and closer. It was all so familiar, so common. The feeling of the pod straining as it broke through the atmosphere and down toward the planet below, the chatter of the radio, the...

...The wet feeling against his face?

Opening his eyes, Tom was greeted to the sight of Winston, standing on his bed right by his pillow, the black cat's head in Tom's face, nuzzling and licking as the animal clearly was hungry. Letting out a quiet groan, he reached up and gently scratched behind Winston's ears as he sat up slowly, glancing over to his clock. 5:56 in the morning, it was good enough. Moving to stand, he filled Winston's bowl and began to get changed into his workout gear. Giving his executive officer a call, he made sure things had been fine through the night and made his way to the elevator.

Heading out of the tower, he began to follow his usual path, it was a well trodden one around the perimeter, and it was one the guards went along often. He passed a fair few of his subordinates who greeted him as he ran by on his morning routine. He was still settling in to a degree, but it hadn't been easy. He hadn't heard much of Tristan until after he arrived, but he had made no effort to conceal his own contempt for Tristan. While others in the tower avoided saying anything to his face, Tom did, often, it wasn't regular for a day to go by without the two being involved in a massive argument. Tom liked next to nothing about Tristan, he was lazy, arrogant, and did things generally in a way which Tom did not like, something which Tom hoped to change, even if it was a pointless mission.

It only took a while for Tom to finish his usual circuit and make his way back inside. Returning to his room, he got into his uniform and retrieved his datapad. Reading through the security reports and alerts he'd missed through the night, he made his way up to the Main Operating Room. He got in just in time to hear the chatter and see Tristan catching the new T-1 in training's ship. He'd been forwarded a report on all the relevant information regarding the ship, incoming individuals, their reports, as well as anything else on the ship. Tom generally got more detailed reports than security chief's elsewhere, it came with where they were. The Altenian tower was a critically important one when it came to military positioning, and so security had to be strong, he made sure it was.

"Smooth catch, Debute." Tom commented as the lead moved past him and out of the room. He refused to use Tristan's first name, or to refer to him by any sort of title like 'Sir' - it was something he reserved for those he respected, and Tristan didn't make that list of people. Glancing toward Craig as he spoke up, Tom moved over to his console and peered over his shoulder at the screen, clearing his throat as he spoke. "I'll head down, someone ought to give her a leg up if she's talking to Tristan." He commented, giving Craig a pat on the shoulder before moving to the elevator, heading down to the hangar.

Reaching the docking port, he stood by the doors as the cruiser settled into its dock, waiting for the new Tower Lead-in-Training to come through as he stood there, crossing his arms over his chest and tapping his fingers against his arm idly as he waited patiently, planning out his work for the rest of the day as he waited.

---

---

---

---

---

The ship had been docked and powered down from the main engines; extending from the receiving ramp and locking into place against the hull off the ship before the air locks released and the heavy hiss rung out in the dock as a few whiffs of steam clouded up around the door as it slid open and the light from inside the ship silhouetted everything within. It was quiet for a moment before there was a crashing sound from inside the hull that echoed out with a yelp that followed it. Another crashing and a few sparks from inside before a body seemed to be flung through the air and came crashing down on the walkway connecting the ship and the docking platform.

"Son of a bitch..." the man groaned as he lifted his head up and rubbed the back of his neck as a few drops of blood trickled down from his busted nose. Sitting up slowly he wiped the blood away with the back of his hand before his head jerked around as he heard the gentle clack of light boot steps on the walk way coming to a halt. There in the the wide doorway stood a short and petite female form and some roundish item floating next to her. Slowly she stepped forward as the man stammered to his feet facing her as her features could finally be seen. Jet black hair with streaks of silver and white framing her eyes, piercing blue eyes that looked like they were about to murder someone and her full lips thinning as she eyed the pilot.

"Fucking Galaxian Seven Trash," she muttered under her breath.

"You crazy cunt! That's the rods to my crystal drive!" he yelled as he balled his fists up until his knuckles went white. A smirk crawled across her lips as the rods flipped in the air and crushed even more into a tighter sphere and it then chucked at him and crashed into his chest like a medicine ball as he spilt out on the walk way once again.

"I warned you, touch me again and I would rip the heart of your ship out and make you eat it," she hissed as she took another step forward. "Now, get my crystal unloaded and stay the hell out of my sight until you are off world or I swear I will launch you into deep space without an Atmo suit!"

The man didn't need to be told twice as he groaned, rolling over and hobbling off passed the woman and into his ship to hide. Shaking her head she looked around at the docks until her eyes fell on her welcoming committee and she pulled her orders out of the sleeve of her boot. Unfolding them she stepped over to the man and held them out to him. "Silvia Adenias, T1 Tower Lead In Training from Earth; reporting to train under Altenian Tower Lead Tristan," she said in a level tone as she waited for him to take the papers before looking back over towards the ship and smirking to herself. "Might want to call a repair squad out to the docks, think he is going to find more than just his crystal drive in need of repair," she quipped before looking back over towards the man before her. "And who is greeting me because I seriously doubt you are Tristan."

Tryke Lockley

---

---

---

One of the more timid repair techs came over, nervously clenching a piece of clear glass, displaying various holographic images.

"They've...They've broken a ship," Midge explained.

"They...You mean the new T-1?" Tryke asked. All of the repair techs in earshot had gone still, hoping desperately that it wasn't so. Tristan was already a handful as it was--they couldn't imagine having two of him around!

Midge nodded. "Port A1 just notified me, they're requesting a repair team."

Tryke sighed, shaking her head as she leaned it against her hand. More grease rubbed off on her forehead, but she couldn't be bothered to care. "Do they even realize how much these parts cost?" She paused, waving her hand, unable to even instruct the tech to not answer that.

"I need volunteers then. Who wants to go deal with the new baby of the tower with me?" Tryke asked, her lips pursed. She wasn't going to take down people who weren't prepared to deal with such a massive ego. The repair crew was a family, and it was her job to keep people from breaking them. She couldn't fix people when they were hurt or afraid.

All she could do was try to stop that from happening.

Eventually, four people volunteered to go down with her. Tryke nodded, putting her gloves back on, and grabbing her tools. Some of the other repair techs brought with them scanners, ready to take notes and assess the damage. Once done, they'd drag the ship off to the repair docks...god willing.

The group headed over to the elevator, Tryke scanning her tag to unlock it. Security was pretty tight on the ship, so after scanning, she had to punch in her code as well. While she saw the reason for it, she couldn't help but be annoyed at the waste of time and energy. Only an idiot would try to steal a broken ship.

The elevator shot down to the main docking ports. Stepping out, Tryke blew on her bangs, getting them out of her eyes. In her mind, her and her team looked, well, badass. Instead, in jumpsuits covered in grease and sweat, they more looked awkward and nerdy. Quickly, she honed in on the new T-1, her eyes narrowing.

However, taking a glance over at the ship, she paused in her tracks. Her eyes widening, she wiped away a single tear.

"This is so much worse than Tristan..." Tryke murmured, discreetly handing the bolts she had bet over to Rorus. Attempting to breathe, Tryke looked at the poor wounded angel. Of course, a bloody T-1 had done this! It was typical behavior, they never considered the feelings of... Well, of machines!

Marching over towards the ship, Tryke glared at the T-1. Had she not learned to bite her tongue around Tristan, she would have screamed at the girl. Maybe knocked her around too. Instead, she almost defensively began checking out the ship, looking it over for any more damage.

---

---

---

---

---

Hearing the crash and the yelp was enough to caution Tom, but not quite enough to set him to action. Arms unfolding themselves, he set his hand on the grip of his sidearm, not bothering to unclip the holster yet or make any move closer to the ship. At that point the sparks flew out and a man followed them, falling to the ground a bit before him as he stood there, watching the situation unfold. As the man moved to stand and turned back into the ship, Tom set his eyes on the perpetrator and knew immediately all was, at least relatively well. Taking his hand off his sidearm, he set his hands on his hips, watching her.

He'd read the GTC's file on her and knew she had quite the possibility to be a handful. He hoped his relationship with Silvia would be, at the very least, civil, but if things like this were going to become a common thing, he may have had an issue. Of course if it was Tristan, he could probably look the other way. Tom remained the silent observer, watching and listening as the man was floored once again by the ball of rods which slammed into his torso. Taking a moment, he grasped his datapad and sent a call down for the repair team pre-emptively, positive that Tryke would absolutely loathe the situation which had unfolded. As she spoke up toward the man, Tom had less of an issue with what was happening, he'd let it slide this time, he didn't want to be reprimanding the new lead in training moments after meeting her, after all.

Taking her orders as she approached him, he took a moment or two to glance over them as she spoke to him, glancing back up to her as he tucked away the orders. "Tom Fisher, i'm the head of security, your personal bodyguard and punching bag." He offered her a half-smile, it wasn't often that he made jokes but he felt now was as good a time as any. "Tristan wanted to see you as soon as you got here, i'll walk you up and uh, try not to mind the fact he's a colossal cunt." The half-smile went to a full one as he turned and began to walk to the elevator as it opened and Tryke and her team wandered out. As they passed, he glanced over and spoke aloud. "Let me know if you need some extra muscle to move anything around or help out, i'll send some of my guys down." He gave Tryke a nod as they reached the elevator, holding the door for Silvia and swiping his access card to send the elevator up to Tristan's room with his security override.

As they reached the top, Tom moved out with Silvia and down the small hallway toward Tristan's room, opening the door and moving inside after her, clearing his throat as he spoke up. "Debute, the new Lead-in-Training is here, as requested."

---

---

---

---

---

Silvia stood there rocking back and forth on the heels of her boots as the man in front of her examined her papers, perking a brow at the glare she was receiving from the newly arrived woman as she passed. Sighing she turned her head as the woman walked by and kept her eyes locked on her; a grease monkey it seemed. Not that she had anything against them, she spent plenty of time herself working on her own cruiser back home. Well more like watching and trying to learn as her friends did. She knew how to handle it better than most others, the inner workings were not something she had had the time to really get to know even if she wanted to. "Well fuck," she muttered under her breath.

Turning she looked back over to Tom as he introduced himself, her expression blank even as the blood from the nail gouges on her chest seeped through her suit. "Yay, already hated by one person. Shall I go for two?" she said more to herself than anyone else. Letting out a bit of a breath between her lips as she looked him over. "Yeah, bodyguard I hope I don't need. Never needed one on Earth but from what I hear about this planet Earth doesn't have the issues that this one does. Now, as far as a punching bag goes; I don't know what you have heard about me but I never attack anyone who has not physically assaulted myself or another without provocation. It is as simple as that," she explained of herself. Knocking someone around was just not Silvia's idea of a good time. It never had been. Defending herself or another was one thing, ripping someone's mind apart for grins and giggles was another.

"Noted," she said as she followed Tom to the elevator and remained silent as they went up to Tristan's floor. Stepping out of the elevator she let out a low whistle. "Well, this place looks a lot nicer than Earth Main Tower, half of ours is underground. Hell, the corridor to my room back home is a dirt tunnel," she chuckled thinking back and already missing it. This place was just too clean for her liking. It was like it was sterile and made her afraid of touching anything, she might contaminate it.

As the door opened to Tristan's quarters and Tom introduced her a glass mug of hot and foamy coffee went flying towards her head. Her eyes flashing as it halted in mid air and went crashing back towards Tristan, missing him by an inch before it slammed into the wall behind him. His eyes flared as he stopped pitching the hissy fit he was in the middle of only to start it back up as his eyes narrowed towards Silvia.

"How dare you!" he bellowed, his fingers curling up into balls beside his waist. "You could have hit me with that! Scalded me! Sent me to the infirmary! I would have you tossed into the stockade if you dared caused me one ounce of pain!" he screamed at her as he took a step closer. Silvia just stood there as if what he was saying meant nothing to her and actually rolled her eyes at the man.

"Okay, let's get this out of the way quickly. One, you threw that at me so I was merely defending myself from an oncoming assault. One that if it had hit me would have forced your Head Of Security here to Slap you in irons for violation of Talent on Talent Assault Code 143-B2Z - Talents of Level 1 in Rank are forbidden from attacking another Talent of Level 1 in Rank unless defending themselves from said Talent of Level 1 in Rank. Two, if I had hit you then I would have been in the right as stated in Talent On Talent Defense Code 560-FK9 - Tanks Of Level 1 In Rank are permitted to defend themselves in any manner they deem fit for the situation if assaulted by another Talent of any Rank without fear of retribution or punishment. Three, if I wanted to hit you with that I would have. Four, if you cannot block a simple telekinetic toss then you have no business running a Tower; that might explain your lack of flair when catching my vessel. And last but not least; I am not some typical Tower Lead In Training. You are as stuck with me as I am with you, so you just might as well get used to this type of attitude from me because I will not stand there and take your Cuntittude like others are forced to. Don't like it, take it up with GTC, they are the ones that dumped me here."

Silvia didn't flinch as she spoke and once again her voice didn't even raise to a level of annoyed. She was clam, cool, and collected as she spouted out regulations, codes, and her feed back to his attitude as if she didn't care what type of reaction she got from him. She didn't. Tristan on the other hand did not take what she said nearly as well as she had dealt it out. His eyes flaring up as if he was about to raise every last bit of furniture in the room and chuck it at her and her out the glass panoramic windows in the process. Seeing his fingers flare out Silvia took a step forward as she rolled her neck from side to side and placed herself between Tristan and Tom.

"Fucking try me prick, I dare you," she growled, her voice finally cracking; taunting him to throw another attack her way. The first had just been because of whatever reason he was pitching a fit but it worked well enough for her to establish a few things; one was that she was not just going to blindly take whatever he did. This on the other hand, that was a look she knew well from other Talents. If he threw anything at this point, it would be a purposed assault towards her. She wanted him to. The look in her eyes told Tristan that, that she wanted him to snap on her.

"Get her the fuck out of my sight, you have grave shift for the next 56 hours!" he spat before storming off to his bedroom, the door slamming in place before the sounds of many an item crashing and breaking against walls echoed out. Silvia shrugged slightly as she turned back around and looked up at Tom.

"Well, isn't he just a peach? Mind showing me to the MOR? Seems I am on shift. I guess I will settle in after the shift is over," she said nonchalantly before stepping passed Tom back out of the room and towards the Elevator.

---

---

---

Up in the Main Operating Room, Craig took a seat at his desk and watched the event unfold with Silvia disembarking from the shuttle, the yelling, the scene in general. Perking an antenna as he zoomed in on Silvia and Tom, noting the blood stain forming on her suit. That was a first. Not that he hadn't seen a T1 bleed before, it happened. Granted it was usually from the nose, eyes, or ears, and had to do with a mental attack or over working. Seeing one bleed from an actual attack was something he had only seen once before. A T1 not even mentioning how the bleeding happened was unheard of. Most were babies, crying and whining that they were going to die from the slightest trickle of blood. Silvia just walked off with Tom as if nothing happened.

Leaning back in his seat she scratched the wiry hairs on his chin before leaning forward and downloading the security footage from the vessel to see exactly what had gone down before the doors opened. What he saw left his mouth agape. Soon as they had made the jump the ship had been put in auto for landing. That was a common thing. What happened next he hoped wasn't so common. The man went over to Silvia and acted like a fool, resting his hand on her thigh at first. Silvia had removed it mentally it seemed before standing and starting to gather her items to leave the ship. Next he grabbed her rear. Craig was shocked she hadn't already put him through the hull, most T1's would have.

Then he saw the cause of the blood, his nails gouging deep into her chest. Was this man high to try to attempt this on her? Shaking his head he queued up his com to Tryke. "Hey, may or may not like this but I need a double crew on the ship you are repairing. Once the ship is repaired it will be confiscated until further notice and that pilot is to remain on the ship until Fisher decides what to do with him after he gets a chance to see the assault," Craig said through the com down to Tryke.

This was not how he expected the day to begin, granted one could never be sure what to expect when a new T1 arrived. He didn't know what to think about Silvia. He understood the lashing out at the man but T1's were careful to follow procedure. She had, kind of. Staying just within the rules enough to make it a gray area. This could either be very good for the Tower or very bad. Only time would tell.

---

---

Tryke Lockley

---

---

---

Tryke nodded at Tom as he went by. "Consider the request for help already submitted, then," Tryke said, her voice showing slight cheer to it, but her face expressionless. She couldn't help but stare at the poor mutilated ship, wondering what possibly could have made this make sense. She understood fits of violence and rage--but never why people would take them out on machines.

It wasn't as if the ship had chosen to do anything to the T-1. It was a ship. It could only do what it was told. In a perfect world, all of the problems and repairs would be done to people. In a perfect world, Tryke's job wouldn't exist.

Holding a hand up to her earpiece, she heard Craig come in through the com. "Hey, may or may not like this but I need a double crew on the ship you are repairing. Once the ship is repaired it will be confiscated until further notice and that pilot is to remain on the ship until Fisher decides what to do with him after he gets a chance to see the assault."

Tryke paused. Oh...Oh.... "Copy that..."

Glancing over at the ship, Tryke couldn't help but feel a bit of regret. An assault. That's why this had happened. "She could have assaulted the pilot instead," Tryke muttered to herself, breathing heavily out of her nose. But of course, out of all the T-1s she had ever met, it was the only one that took a semi-logical course of action.

"Someone get another crew down here," Tryke ordered, walking inside of the wreckage. She coughed a bit from the smoke, and pulled her glasses down, switching through the various views to see all of the issues. When she looked at it through ultraviolet, the blood became more apparent. The T-1....

An impish smile grew on her face. She never particularly cared for T-1s, but she hated the pilot already for his crime. It wouldn't be too hard for her to put an intentional bug in the ship, give it a chance to get revenge on the pilot. A gas leak would be amusing, but perhaps, too intentional....

"Someone get me some helium, please!" Tryke shouted, leaning out of the ship.

Rorus raised an eyebrow at her, before breaking into a large grin. He nodded, rushing off to get the needed supplies. There was a reason why Tryke had Rorus has her right hand--he knew instantly what he would want done. Pressing into her earpiece, she had it put her through to Tom.

"Have your team be extra careful, ship is confiscated and...has a surprise for our dear pilot," Tryke said, before switching her earpiece off. Cracking her knuckles, she and her team quickly got to work, with the second team joining them quickly. The helium was hidden discretely, designed to be released when the pilot came onto his ship. It wasn't enough to hurt him--just to make him sound like a chipmunk for a good hour.

---

---

---

---

---

Watching as the mug flew toward himself and Silvia, Tom barely reacted before it was caught by the new T1 he was with and flung back toward Tristan. As Tristan screeched at the young woman and she began to spout regulation, Tom brought his PDA up to his eyes. Following through with Tryke's request, he ordered four of his men to head down and listen to Tryke for whatever she needed help with. He listened to Silvia's little speech as he did this, making mental notes and confirming that what she was saying was in fact true, it all was, though he didn't even imagine Tristan was entirely aware of that.

Glancing up as she stopped speaking, Tom tucked his PDA away and watched Tristan as his fingers moved, more as a warning than anything, he set his hands on his belt and tapped the cuffs resting on them, flashing Tristan a winning and horrendously smug smile to go with it as Silvia stepped up. He didn't expect the situation to escalate, Tristan might have been a douchebag but he wasn't a complete idiot, he only seemed like it because he thought the world revolved around his ego and not the sun. Watching as Tristan moved to stand and stormed off, Tom looked back down at Silvia as she spoke and moved past him, giving her a nod.

"You're a dickhead, Debute." He called out for good measure before turning around and heading back out toward the elevator. As he moved into it and set the elevator to head down to the MoR, he glanced over, finally noticing the blood seeping through her suit. "Do you need a doctor? I'll send one up to the MoR if you don't want to head down to the infirmary." He offered with a half-smile, mostly trying to be as helpful as possible. She had put Tristan in his place, and for now that had at the very least earned Silvia a spot in Tom's good books, he just hoped she'd stay there.

As they got out of the elevator and moved out into the MoR, Tom cleared his throat as he spoke up. "Everyone, this is the new T-1, Silvia Adenias, she's working the MoR for the next fifty-six hours, and she just made Tristan have a fit, so treat her well." He smiled, glancing back at Silvia. "Let me know if you need any help." He said before moving over to Craig, leaving her be to do as she would. "How're the repairs looking?"

---

---

---

---

---

Silvia stepped into the elevator, turning around and leaning against the wall a bit as she fanned out her fingers; crossing her arms over her chest she let out a bit of a breath. Maybe Tristan wasn't as much of an idiot as she had hoped he was, or maybe he just knew better than to try to fight someone that actually knew how and could fight back. Reaching up she pushed her hair out of her face; tucking it behind her ear as Tom asked if she needed someone to come up from the infirmary. Perking a brow she looked down at her suit and grumbled under her breath.

Grasping the zipper at her neck she pulled it down and shoved back the fabric just enough to take a better look at the source of the blood. There were was bruised hand print clear as day on her pale skin and deep nail gouges in five places where she had been grabbed. Rolling her eyes, she zipped back up and shook her head. "No, I should be fine. Might need a tetanus shot because of the fucker but other than that I'll be alright," she said as she leaned back against the wall of the elevator as it went up to the top floor where the MOR was. She had received worse over the years working on Earth, the place was older, much older and a lot of things broken down. This was just a flesh wound in her mind and didn't need looking at. For a T1 though, it was an odd way to react to it, most would have pulled a Tristan and acted like it was the end of the world. Silvia though wasn't a typical T1 in some ways.

Stepping out of the elevator she smirked a bit at her introduction. "I will, thank you," she said gratefully and sincerely as she stepped over to the Lead Chair and took a seat. Resting herself down and getting a feel for it for a moment before she started pointing at different members of the MOR's team and having them come over to her one at a time. Silvia was doing something that she did in every tower she had been in but something other T1's seemed to avoid. She was getting to know the staff. Asking them their names, how long they had been on shift, how long since they had had time off. She asked about their lives, their families, why they were at this tower, if they wanted to transfer off. Eventually asking for one of them to hand her a pencil and a piece of paper. Was she actually writing things down? Why not use a PDA or something to put down what she needed?

Craig perked an antenna before looking over towards Tom. "Well she is different," he said before leaning back in his seat. "The repairs are underway but this is what I need you to have a look at," he said as he pulled up the footage of the attack on Silvia. His lips thinned as he watched it again before stopping the replay once it got the point where Silvia chucked the pilot out of the ship. "The pilot is currently restricted to the ship only and the ship will be confiscated once the repairs are done. How do you want to handle this? Seems out new girl over there likes to handle matters herself but you are Head of Security. Do we want to handle this by the books? Or take a more hands on approach?" he asked as he rubbed the wiry hairs on his chin.

---

---

---

---

The pilot flopped down in his chair on the bridge, rubbing his chest where she had hit him with the ball of parts from his ship and narrowed his eyes. "Not the end of this," he muttered under his breath. Hearing things going on in his ship he stood up angrily and stormed through it to see what was going on. As he spotted people in his ship his eyes flared up a bit but at least they were getting repairs underway. The sooner they were done the better in his mind.

"Hurry up, I want to get the fuck off his world," he spat as he walked by them and began to get his on world pack together. He wanted to head up to the commissary to get a meal and then head out to the nearest town to find some ways to release his anger and tension. Maybe find a nice girl, or a bad girl, didn't matter, a girl to make him forget that silver haired vixen who thought she was all that and then some.

Shoving clothing and some cred sticks into his bag he shouldered the bag and looked back at the repair crew. "Don't fuck anything up on my ship," he warned them before turning and heading for the exit he had been tossed out of earlier; it was time to get his drink on and figure out a way to make that woman pay for embarrassing him in front of people. No one got away with screwing with Ragari of Galaxia 7.

---

---

Tryke Lockley

---

---

---

Tryke opened one of the hatches of the ship with her mind, peering down. Wires and parts were sticking out, buzzing with an electrical flow that couldn't flow. Pursing her lips, she rolled her neck, before jumping down the small little tunnel itself.

"Turn the power for this ship off, please!" Tryke shouted. It would have been smart to do that already, but the entire assault had thrown her for a loop. In a moment, the sparking of the wires stopped, and she grinned. As far as she was concerned, the repair crew was one of the most competent on the Altenian Nexus. Without them, the entire tower would actually fall apart.

Getting to work with mending the circuits, she heard storming footsteps from above. "Hurry up, I want to get the fuck off his world."

Must be the asshole of a pilot, Tryke realized. Discreetly, Tryke climbed up the ladder slightly of the hatch, just enough to be able to see the pilot. He started assembling a bag, putting clothing and other belongings inside it with all of the care of a drunken gorilla. "Don't fuck anything up on my ship."

"Maybe if you weren't a dick, this wouldn't have happened," Tryke muttered, just low enough that he couldn't hear. Using her PDA, she notified the security team Tom sent down there to restrain the pilot, or at least, prevent him from leaving.

"Tom, pilot has left the ship, looks like he's planning on going to the commissary...Hope your boys are able to restrain him," Tryke said on the PDA.

Leaving it on this time, she jumped back down, hitting the bottom. A few of the circuits had already been repaired, but a few of them needed resistors and capacitors and fresh wires. Replacing each bit meticulously, Tryke slowly worked her way upward, hoping that her team had cleared away the shattered and ruined parts. By the time she made it to the top, that one portion of the ship had been repaired beautifully.

The air conditioning was now fully operational once more.

"Rorus, status report, please," Tryke asked, brushing a bead of sweat off of her forehead.

Rorus chuckled sadly. "The crystal drive is... We can't even scrap the thing for parts."

Tryke groaned. "Typical. We'll have to order a new one, then. Tristan isn't going to like this...Well, what can we fix, for now?"

"Umm...," Rorus paused, searching through his notes. "The stabilizers are the only thing left we can fix, really. That crystal drive is the biggie...How much are those going for, now? 100,000 credits?"

"Probably more," Tryke answered sourly. Pressing her PDA, she opened up the channel with Craig. "Hope you aren't too busy, but the ship is going to need a completely new crystal drive...Can one be ordered? We used the spare on the last ship Tristan wrecked."

---

---

---

---

---

Glancing over toward Silvia as she began to get to know those in the MoR, Tom turned back to Craig as he brought up the footage. Staring at the screen, he tapped his teeth against his knuckle as he thought, having Craig play it through a few times as he stood there. as Craig spoke up again to ask how Tom wanted to handle it, he still remained quiet for a while, thinking as he stared at the screen. He knew that the men he'd sent down to the ship would be stopping the pilot from leaving, so he wasn't concerned about making a rushed decision which could bite him in the ass later.

Tom's gaze shifted from the screen finally, only to move over to Silvia again as he thought. It would have been reasonable to defer to her judgement, she was the one who had been assaulted after all, but then again she seemed hot-headed to Tom, at least so far, he wasn't sure if he gave her the say on what they did that she'd come to a decision that Tom liked. Making his decision, and hopefully a compromise, he cleared his throat before speaking. "Have two of the security officers down there detain him, i'll speak to our new T1 about what she'd like to see done." Giving Craig a nod, he did just that, moving away from the console and up toward the Lead Chair.

Standing patiently for a few moments as she spoke to one of the operators, Tom took a moment to reply to Tryke's message, confirming that his officers would be on it. Tom smiled politely as the two finished up and he approached, kneeling down somewhat to be at her height, and speak at a lowered volume. "I've just ordered a pair of my officers to detain the pilot after your incident with him. Considering his acts were directed against you I figured it fair i'd consider any suggestion you have on how I should handle him." He gave her a slight nod as if to confirm she understood.

---

---

---

---

As the pilot did leave the ship, he was greeted by a pair of armed security officers. One held up a hand to physically halt the pilot while another spoke. "Sir, as per the request of the security chief, and due to the nature of the incident, we will be escorting you to your quarters until repairs are complete, you will remain there under guard." The officers did not wait for any sort of acknowledgement, the one who spoke moving behind the man to take him by the arms and cuffing him while his partner kept the pilot where he was. Once the pilot was secured, they began to move him down the walkway toward the elevator, bringing him to the security level while the other two security officers moved to their initial duties, assisting Tryke.

---

---

---

---

---

Craig sat there drumming his fingers against his knee as he showed Tom the security footage a few times and then nodded to him. "Sounds like as good a plan as any," he said as he leaned up in his chair and turned off the footage finally before going back to going through the assignments for the rest of the day.

"No, wasn't anything like that. You see, the crystal drive had gone down and he went into a panic, panicking everyone else in the tower. Yelling, flailing around like a raving lunatic. HoS was actually the one that knocked him out I just took the heat. Easier for me to get passed the charges than someone of a lower rank," Silvia explained, clarifying what had happened on Gretisi and why she had been tossed in the stockade for three months a couple of years back. The programmer nodded and finished filling in Silvia on his personal stuff as she asked questions. Looking over at Tom as he came up before telling Silvia it was nice to meet her and walking back to his station.

Silvia perked a brow some and looked over towards Tom with a bit to large of a smirk on her lips. "You mean other than put him in air lock and open it in deep space?" she asked rather bluntly before waving off the idea with a flick of her wrist. Leaning back in her seat she crossed her legs and through for a moment. Her lips pursing now and again as thought after thought went through her mind, dismissing each one as quickly as they came to mind before she chuckled to herself a bit and snapped her fingers as a lightbulb came on in her mind. Looking over towards Tom and leaned in to speak quietly against his ear.

"I saw on the personnel requisitions that Tristan is in need of a new personal pilot. Why not punish two birds with one stone? Pilot gets to work with Tristan for what he did, Tristan gets to get annoyed by that piece of trash because he can't play well with others," she suggested before leaning back in her seat and raising her brows a bit with a nod. It was a different approach to the matter that was for sure. For what the man had done he could easily be dropped off into the stockade for a bit until a trial but in the end he would get just a little jail time, a fine, and perhaps a suspension of his GTC permits for a couple of years. Silvia felt this punishment would be far more quick, less paper work, and a lot ore entertaining.

"So, what do you think?"

Craig leaned up in his seat as he got word from Tryke and groaned a bit as he heard they would need to order a new crystal drive. "Yeah but I have no idea when GTC will approve a new one. Probably not until after a trail and such to see if they should pay for it or of they should charge the pilot for it, or even Silvia," he said back to her as he shook his head.

Silvia perked a brow as she over heard Craigs end of the conversation and held up her finger to Tom as she stood up. "Just a minute please," she said before walking over to the communications console and tapping in a few keys. After about thirty seconds a face appeared on the screen and smiled brightly as he saw Silvia.

"Angel! How's it going, everything alright? They treating you good there? Any problems?" Marx starting spouting off along with about a dozen other questions. Silvia rolled her eyes a bit.

"Hey, I need a crystal drive," she said after snapping her fingers at the monitor a few times to get him to shut up. Marx looked at her a bit stunned for a moment and then cocked his head to the side as he waited for an explanation. "Don't give me that look, fucker had it coming."

"Already?????" he said as he lowered his head in defeat and held up his hands as if he had given up.

"Well? Can you?"

"Yeah, yeah, put it on the next freighter jump in eighteen hours but I am pulling it out of Hemthral 118," he said as he looked back up and at her. Silvia narrowed her eyes.

"Fine.... Just get it here," she said before killing the call and the monitor went black. Taking a deep breath she pushed her hair back and tucked it behind her ears before turning back to Craig. "Eighteen hours work?"

"Um... yeah!" he said before relaying the information down to Tryke and giving Tom a bit of a look, surprised but happy that she had just saved them a mound of paper work and time.

---

---

---

---

"You have got to be kidding me!" the pilot snapped as he was put in cuffs. "She came onto me! She was in my head telling me all sorts of things!" he claimed over and over again. Stomping his feet and fighting to get out of the cuffs a bit but he was no match for those that were escorting him. Finally calming down a bit and letting out a rather frustrated huff. He could have been telling the truth, some Talents were able to do such things, the higher the rating the more likely it was possible but if that was the case then why had he waited until now to say anything? And why didn't he verbally protest it in the ship in front of the cameras? It didn't sit right.

---

---

Tryke Lockley

---

---

---

Tryke could hardly believe it when Craig told her they'd have a new crystal drive in eighteen hours. She pinched herself, going off of the old superstition, her eyes wide. No doubt it had to be some sort of connection of the new T-1. No one else in the tower had that sort of sway, able to get a crystal drive so quickly.

"Tell the new T-1 it's appreciated," Tryke said numbly to Craig, before switching her PDA off.

Still in disbelief, Tryke went over towards where the crystal drive would be installed, and grabbed a cloth. The grime and wreckage of the old one was partially lodged in, and she cleaned it out, slowly and methodically, giving her time alone with her thoughts. The rest of the repair crew was taking care to place the old drive somewhere out of the way, allowing the senior repair division specialist to ponder.

Eventually, the ruckus from outside disturbed her from her thoughts. Peeking out of the ship, Tryke watched as the pilot was taken away in cuffs, and she couldn't help but smirk. Fisher would have some sort of punishment in store for him--but nothing as great as what would happen the next time the ship flew.

"Alright, this ship is ready to be moved," Tryke said, getting off of the confiscated ship. Motioning towards Tom's security team, she gave them instructions to move the ship to repair dock 17. It'd be plenty safe there, and allow for them to properly install the new crystal drive.

"Everyone else, you can go," Tryke said, looking towards her repair crew. "Go get something to eat, we'll be working on this ship again in eighteen."

---

---

---

---

---

Offering little more than a half-smile toward Silvia's initial comment, Tom was doing a pretty good job of making himself look by-the-book. He stood with one hand holding his datapad, the other idly resting against it as he watched her, seeming to wait for whatever other suggestion she had in mind. It was a wonder, really, Tom stuck to regulation as much as possible, he generally tried to help everyone and focused on getting his work done as well as he could. The man barely took any time off even in the evening, he was essentially the perfect one for his position, it was truly a surprise that even he had Tristan's ire. Though, it was mostly due to his own contempt for the Tower Lead.

Raising an eyebrow at her next suggestion, he let his lip curl upward in a thoughtful, but amused smile. He was impressed at the suggestion, he wouldn't have considered it, he probably would have just kept the pilot in detainment for a while, given him a blackmark and sent him off for other authorities to deal with. Much in line with Silvia's thinking however, this would mean less paperwork for him, a fact he usually didn't even bother to consider. "I think that's a fair idea, i'll probably toss him a few nights in detainment for good measure, though." Glancing down to his datapad, he typed away a message to his officers dealing with the pilot before looking back up to her with a smile. "Thank you for the suggestion, ma'am." He commented, respectfully.

As she held up her finger Tom shut up, watching the exchange as it went on. He remained quiet as he stood there, reaching down and tucking his right hand into his pocket as his left kept a grip on the datapad. Raising an eyebrow in return toward Craig's look, he shrugged his shoulders slightly and cleared his throat. "That is much appreciated ma'am, now if you need me for anything, don't hesitate to contact me, I should deal with our friend the pilot." He smiled, giving her another nod as he turned toward the elevator and moved out, stepping in and sending the elevator down to the security level.

As he got out his 2IC, Jackson, was waiting for him. "Is he settling in?" Tom asked as he moved past, Jackson shifting into line along with Tom and shrugging his shoulders. "He's under arrest because he tried to grope a T-1, would you be 'settling'?" Jackson was a far more laid back individual than Tom was, but he always got the job done. He was Tom's most trustworthy partner and one of the few, in fact the only person in the tower at that point he considered a real 'friend'. They were two sides of a coin, Tom was all business, the good cop, and Jackson was the bad cop.

It didn't take long for them to reach the pilot's new cell, Tom giving him a courteous smile and a nod as he moved up to the cell and peered in. "You're going to be reassigned, as of today you're going to be tower lead Tristan's personal pilot. You'll also be docked a good deal of your salary." He glanced down to the datapad as he spoke, reading off the order he'd given to his own officers earlier.

---

---

---

---

---

"Glad to be of help, and thank you. I will," Silvia said before leaning back in her seat and going over the notes she had taken while talking to the various staff members in the MOR; Perking a brow at some of the note and nodding slightly as Craig relayed the message of thanks from the docks. As Tom left she rose from her place and wandered over to Craig; tearing off a corner of the paper she had been writing on and handing it over to him.

"These people need to be relieved as soon as possible. They have been on shift more than eighteen hours. Now these here haven't had any reasonable amount of time off in the last year. Please arrange for them to be able to take at least a week off within the next thirty days. The ones who had have time off in the last twelve months, make sure they get some down time within the next sixty days. A worn out crew is no good in a Tower," she said as she stood there tapping her pencil against what was left of the paper.

"Now there are a number of people wishing for a transfer but I have asked them to wait another thirty days before putting in any requests. Let's see what we can do about making this place a bit more tolerable before we start jetting folks out of here."

"You mean other than have Tristan transferred off world?" he said flatly before his eyes widened a bit as he realized what he had just said. Silvia chuckled a bit and he let out a sigh of relief that he wasn't being chucked into deep space right then. Craig took the paper and looked over it before looking back at Silvia; actually looking a bit confused. This was not how he was used to T1's acting in a Tower; not that he was complaining. Seemed she was just trying to take care of the staff but why? After years with Tristan, and before that years with other T1's he wasn't exactly sure he could trust her. Maybe she had motive behind the supposed kindness but he took it for what he could at the time; an excuse to let some of his staff actually get a break.

"Alright, I will see what I can do."

"What about you? And Fisher? When was the last time either of you had a breather?"

"Um... it's been a while."

"Let's see what we can do about that okay? And check with the rest of the leads about their crews okay? It may take a bit to get through everyone but it needs to be addressed."

"What about Tristan?"

"I'll deal with him. As per regulation code 4-32-1-B, A T1 Tower Lead In Training has all the authority that a Tower Lead does and is in charge of personnel when in Tower. So if he says anything, just point him my way."

"Will do," he said before Silvia walked back over to her seat and started going over the shift duties for the next few hours. Craig turned back to his work and started contacting each of the Division Leaders to get a run down of what Silvia wanted about who needed down time, who needed to be off shift right away to get some rest, who wanted transfers and who was willing to give it another thirty days to give Silvia a chance.

---

---

---

---

"That is utter bullshit! I shouldn't be in here! And I am not working for that asshole! I want off this world! She is the reason I did those things! Filling me head with ideas! You put her in here and let me the fuck go!" Ragari snapped towards Tom as he kicked the wall of his cell before sitting himself down in a bit of a huff and cracking his knuckles.

"How it always goes isn't it? Some T1 says something and suddenly some other bastard is in a cell. Better watch yourself, you might be in here next right beside me. Then you will see what I am talking about and you will have wished you listened to me when you had the chance. But hey, you are just another Lead Lackey aren't you?"

---

---

---

---

Once the crew got done what they could the ship was transported from the post to the repair docks for now and put under guard just in case Ragari some how was able to get out. Not that that was a likely option, the man was only a T-8. They weren't exactly known for their teleport abilities. It wasn't like they were locking up a T1.

Craig commed down to Tryke to relay the message from Silvia. "Hey, Tryke, listen when you get a minute can you do me a favor? Actually, can you do the new T1 a favor? She wants me to get a list from all the department heads on your staff. Things like how long they have been on shift currently, how long since their last leave was granted, if they would like a transfer off the planet to another tower. Those that do, she is asking if they would be willing to wait thirty days before putting in a request. I think she wants time to see if she can get this place in order a bit. I dunno," he said into the com as he tapped the paper in his hand that Silvia had given him.

"Oh and it seems that our little pilot has a new assignment. Tristan's private pilot. Could you see that the ship is outfitted with Tristan's things and such? Move them over from the current ship to Ragari's. Make sure they both will feel right at home," he said, having to bite his tongue to try to hide the slight chuckle coming from his lips. He doubted Tristan would put up with the man for long but it would be funny as hell to watch while it lasted.

---

---

Tryke Lockley

---

---

---

Tryke nodded at the security team her thanks, with a few of them remaining behind to guard the ship. She smirked a bit to herself, imagining the pilot's surprise when he goes to use his ship, and breathes in helium gas. Chuckling a bit to herself, the thought was almost as great as the event itself, she suspected.

It'd be a lesson to him, and also, to anyone who dared jeopardize a ship for something as stupid as lust. Some in the Tower suspected that Tryke cared more about the machines than she did people--in her mind, they weren't wrong. She could understand machines, she could fix them, and she marveled at them.

People? They didn't follow anything logical, they rebelled against order and sense. Tryke could never comprehend them. She couldn't even comprehend herself.

Her PDA alerted her to a message from Craig. Holding her hand to her ear, Tryke nodded, receiving his message. "Hey, Tryke, listen when you get a minute can you do me a favor? Actually, can you do the new T1 a favor? She wants me to get a list from all the department heads on your staff. Things like how long they have been on shift currently, how long since their last leave was granted, if they would like a transfer off the planet to another tower. Those that do, she is asking if they would be willing to wait thirty days before putting in a request. I think she wants time to see if she can get this place in order a bit. I dunno,"

"Right...Yeah, yeah, I'll get on that," Tryke murmured. The T-1 had gotten them a new crystal drive, but it still made Tryke feel uncomfortable. The repair crew was a family--she wasn't going to let any new scheme blow up on them.

"Oh and it seems that our little pilot has a new assignment. Tristan's private pilot. Could you see that the ship is outfitted with Tristan's things and such? Move them over from the current ship to Ragari's. Make sure they both will feel right at home,"

"On it, boss," Tryke answered, before turning off the PDA. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Dousing a no good pilot in helium was one thing--but Tristan?! That was another thing entirely. Tryke ran into the ship, past the guards, making some excuse about needing to fix the ventilation. Standing on one of the seats, she grabbed the helium tube out of the main vents, and then dashed over to the pilot's chair. Installing the helium tube in the vent that would blow on the pilot and the pilot only, Tryke let out a deep breath.

She walked off of the ship, and motioned to her crew. "His Highness is going on this ship--we need to start moving his stuff over, people!"

The repair crew stared at her. They all knew exactly what had been done to that ship. None of them dared to voice it, however. There were cameras on the ship that'd need to be installed--but Tryke was fairly confident that Tristan would be amused at the plight of his pilot, as long as he didn't share in it.

"Now, come on!" Tryke repeated. She went to the elevator, scanning her card and punching in her code, heading for the main docking bays. The elevator doors closed on her, just moments after the rest of her team joined her. She paused, glancing around at all of them.

"I need to know which ones of you want to be transferred, who needs time off, and how long you've been on shift," Tryke added. "The new T-1 is making changes around here."

---

---

---

---

---

Tom offered the pilot a slight smile, nodding at his initial comment. "Of course sir, it is your choice to take that assignment... I suppose if it doesn't interest you then I will contact the GTC, have them send a few correctional officers to pick you up. They'll worry about the paperwork involving the nullification of your contract, confiscation of your ship, cancelling of your license and any other privileges that come with it." He nodded his head as if making a final decision, watching the pilot. While his tone was polite and professional there was a clear message in them, he could take the assignment which Tom had given him or he could lose everything that he currently had, and spend a great deal of the next few years in prison. He couldn't help but chuckle at Ragari's next few comments.

"Ah, yes, of course Miss Adenias has some secret agenda to toss everyone she doesn't like behind bars for no apparent reason. I'm pleased that someone here is smart enough to figure that out." The sarcasm in his voice was palpable as he stood there. "The choice is yours to make, Mr. Ragari, you can serve here as Debute's pilot, or rot in a cell, it makes little difference to me." As Tom spoke to Ragari, Jackson moved off to a console to check an incoming message. Coming back over to Tom, he told Fisher about Silvia's request to know about who needed downtime.

Taking a datapad from Jackson, who then moved off elsewhere, Tom remained where he was, waiting for Ragari's response as he began to fill out the report. He was fair with those under him, Jackson hadn't had some time off for a while, so he made sure to mention that along with many of his other officers. For himself however, it was a different story. Tom hadn't had a day off since he arrived at the tower, nor did he particularly want one. He filed in the report that he had only recently finished some leave, it was a lie, but he figured Silvia wouldn't particularly care even if she did find out, after all it shouldn't have affected her too much. Time to rest, without thinking of work was time that Tom had no interest in, it was time to think, time to remember. And there were many things Tom had no wish to remember, work kept his mind off them, and so work is what he would do.

Completing the report, he sent it off to Craig, figuring he would provide Silvia with it. Tucking the datapad under his arm, he turned his gaze back up to Ragari, a look of contempt in his eye that was not common on his features. Ragari was the kind of man who Tom despised, a worm, never thinking of the consequences of his actions but taking them anyway as some idiot. That was how Tom saw him, anyway, he disgusted Fisher, Tom found himself not particularly caring what happened to him, almost hoping he'd refuse to work as Tristan's pilot, but the offer was made and he figured he knew which option Ragari would take.

---

---

---

---

---

Silvia sat at her post and rubbed her temples. The schedules that Tristan had set up, while all within GTC regulations, were just ridiculous. How in the world was anyone supposed to have any time to actually let their minds and body rest. It was a complete mess to her and she sat there reworking them as best she could with the limited staff that the tower had.

Then the alarms went off and her head snapped up as she looked over towards Craig. Craig rising from his seat and heading over to the monitors. "Fucking hell! Incoming! Ship jump from Maflecx 12, what the fuck! That wasn't on schedule until tomorrow."

"Power up the crystal drive," Silvia said as she slid forward in her seat.

"Yours isn't installed yet and it will take at least a few minutes that we don't have to get another crystal up here and powered up," Craig said as he scanned the monitors. He was in a bit of a panic. The ship was going to break atmo in ninety seconds and if something wasn't done it would crash; either into the tower or into the city in the valley near by.

"Craig, kick out that glass," she said as she rose from her seat and took a step forward, pointing towards the view ports at the front of the MOR that let them see the surrounding area.

"What?" he asked confused as hell by that request.

"Kick out that glass," she repeated in a flat tone and gave him a look that clearly spoke volumes that she wasn't going to explain herself. "Now!" she barked and Craig moved, shattering the glass. Silvia wasted no time as she climbed over the console and stood in the opening, looking down at the drop below her and the ground that was fifty stories below.

Looking up at the sky she could see where the ship was starting to tear through the atmosphere and swallowed hard. This was going to hurt, a lot. Taking a deep breath her eyes focused on the incoming ship, slowly they glazed over to look like cloudy glass. It was a side effect of using a Talent that some had but it didn't show up often now that Talents had learned to use crystals to enhance their abilities. It usually occurred when a Talent had to tap further down into their mind to work. Without a crystal to aid in the catch it was not too shocking that it was happening but then again, Talents usually didn't catch ships without aid anymore.

The winds kicked up around the tower and Silvia's hair moved as she stood there gripping the edge of the frame where the glass once was. Seeing what she was doing Craigs mind finally figured it out. It was easier to use a talent when there was nothing between you and the target, the glass was not much but it was a hindrance. No one really thought about it though since the drives were there these days so it more than compensated.

The ship ripped through the atmo and headed right for the tower. Craig freezing in place as he watched, there really wasn't anything anyone else could do. Time seemed to tick by slowly as the ship got closer and closer to the tower, not seeming to slow down in its decent. That was until it finally jarred to a halt within 200 meters of the tower. Craig blinked, rubbing his eyes slightly as a voice crackled in over the com.

"Mother fucker! Nice catch!" a voice said from the transport ship.

"You all okay in there?" Craig asked quickly.

"Yeah, a little shook up and I need to change my shorts but we're good. Have Tristan drop the catch and I can fly us down to the docks, gonna need some repairs after that little adventure," the man said, rubbing his face as he tried to catch his breath.

"Not Tristan but got it," Craig quickly replied before looking over to Silvia. Her eyes clearing up as she released the catch and stumbled. Craig moving to catch her and sit her back in the chair quickly. She didn't say anything, just sat there staring blankly at the floor as blood trickled from her nose and ears.The alarms still blaring but Craig wasn't paying attention enough to order them to be shut off.

---

---

---

---

Ragari sat there and eyed Fisher, shaking his head a bit. "Yeah, yeah. I know the drill. Fine, fine, I'll pilot that ass but you mark my word, that woman will cause more trouble than you are ready to handle," he growled before spitting on the ground at Fishers feet and turning a bit. Lacing his fingers together behind his head she laid down on his bunk and stared at the ceiling.

"Just let me know when I need to fly, till then I could use a meal. Fangorian tresh sounds really damn good about now," he said with a slight smirk as he thought to himself. Yeah, it would suck piloting for that man but it was better than dealing with loosing his license. He had worked for Tristan before and knew what he was getting into, but he also knew how to stroke that mans ego. Maybe this was just the break he needed plus if he was stuck on this planet for a bit he could find a way to get back at Silvia for turning down his advances. That thought alone just made this entire ordeal well worth his time.

He perked a brow as the alarms went off through out the tower and then laughed. "Seems she is already causing problems," he laughed before closing his eyes.

---

---

---

---

Once Craig had gotten all the information from the Heads of the departments he had handed them over to Silvia. The woman wasted no time in getting anyone that had been on shift more than eighteen hours off for the next twenty four. The staff rotating out quickly in the various areas of the Tower. It wasn't unusual for Talents to pull shifts that were well over forty-eight hours. Their abilities made it a tad easier to function for such long periods of time. That being said Silvia didn't like to have people working more than eighteen at a time without a break. People got tired, they got frustrated, they got bored. She felt it was better to split up the down time a bit more so people could unwind. Even if it was only for a few hours. Made for an overall better work environment.

Down in the Docks proper the staff flipped out for fresher faces and it seemed that people were rather confused by all the changes. Tristan didn't care if they had been working a few hours or a few days. Once it was explained that another T1 was in the tower now they just kind of ran with it. Better to take advantage of the situation now because most were sure that as soon as Tristan was back in the MOR that it would go back to the status quo of sucking.

In the confiscated ship the repairs were going well enough, minus the crystal drive they were waiting on to get there later in the day from Earth. That was until the alarms went off and everyone froze, that couldn't have been good.

---

---

Tryke Lockley

---

---

---

Tryke scribbled down the details for each of her staff on the data pad, and transferred it all to Craig. Her crew was mostly exhausted, with Tristan's antics always breaking something. Most of them hadn't had a proper break in at least 30 hours, aside from the handful that she had dismissed to go to the commissary.

Of course, Tryke doubted that anything good could come of this. T-1s weren't exactly the caring type. She continued to ponder how Silvia would turn this into the newest mess, perhaps she wanted to see how long the crews could be pushed until things began to breakdown.

Thus, it was apt to say Tryke was stunned when her crew was given a break, and a fresh one swapped in. She herself didn't bother with having a rest, there were more repairs to do, Tristan's ship to outfit. She didn't have a moment to rest--nor did she truly care. Fixing machines had always been her hobby, and even if she were off the clock, she'd only be working on the robotic girlfriend for Tristan.

"Right, that's everything," Tryke nodded, as the last of Tristan's belongings from his ship were unloaded. Her team brought it all into one of the large freight elevators, and after the irritating procedure of gaining access to it, the doors shut and brought them back up to repair dock 17.

"We'll need to put this all in the confiscated ship," Tryke murmured, jotting down notes on the datapad. "And remember...No one is to touch the air vent by the pilot's chair, unless you want to sound like a fairy princess for the next hour."

The repair crew raised their eyebrows. They had been on break while Tryke had installed the surprise. Glancing around, she explained it to them quickly. Dorsen and Chasidy, twins by all but blood relation, glanced at each other and snickered. The rest of the crew weren't nearly as amused--they were more serious than the rest.

"Won't Tristan be pissed?" Lorilee, an older altenian woman, stated bluntly. She shifted her stance, one hand on her hip, the other hand resting on her wrench.

"If we do things properly, he'll be just as amused as we are," Tryke answered. "Besides, there really--"

The alarms blared, cutting her off. Tryke quickly pulled her glasses down, switching through the numerous views. Using heat signatures, she could see something rapidly approaching the tower, with no signs of slowing.

"Shit, shit, shit," she muttered under her mouth. "Everyone take cover!"

Of course, GTC procedure was more specific than that. But with what appeared to be a ship rapidly heading towards them, they didn't have time to go by some bureaucratic standards. The repair crew quickly dived for cover, holding on and protecting their necks and heads as best as they could. The proximity of the ship caused the docks to shake, and Tryke, continuing to peer through her glasses, saw the ship shudder to a halt, practically right outside their doorstep.

Letting out a shuddering breath, Tryke checked on each member of her team. Most of them appeared a bit shaken, but no one seemed to have been hurt. Wiping her forehead, she chuckled a bit.

"Hey Craig, what's going on?" Tryke asked, her hand against her PDA.

As far as she could tell, a ship had come in, expecting a catch without determining if the tower was ready. She didn't know too much about the affairs of T-1s--they weren't machines, so it never interested her. However, she did know that there was no way Silvia's crystal had been installed in time.

"Did Tristan make that catch?" Tryke muttered to herself. She couldn't imagine a T-1 making a catch without a crystal. But then again, this T-1 hardly made any sense to her at all.