He didn’t want to admit that the artificial intelligence system, NO4H, was more helpful than he’d initially expected. The holo-table was no exception, and while interfaced with the ship’s AI, it allowed for a personnel management system that would make strategic plans much easier to administer. But nevertheless, years of living and surviving by pure human intuition, skill, and team camaraderie conditioned his mind to rely on his own strengths, those of his allies, and the warm feel of sidearm. So while he appreciated the assistance that NO4H provided, it would take some time to fully give in to the fact that the AI is quite in control of things.

A mistrust of robotics and synthetic life had surfaced through so much of man-made technology turning on it’s own creators throughout history, and the people closest to them. Gavon’s most brutal experience had been during his time with the criminal syndicate the Solntsevskaya Brotherhood, and their incessant raids on tech facilities, military outposts, and police-run bunkers along city borders throughout the wasteland of what was once a proud Russia. The stolen weapons, equipment, and prototype military-grade AI units were valued highly by several of the Brotherhood's closest buyers, and they knew no expense would be spared. The Brotherhood, however, wanted to keep some of the best for themselves, whether to turn a profit later when there is more demand, or to use and abuse it as they saw fit to do.

Unfortunately, artificial intelligence modules were being retrofitted into all types of weapon turrets, vehicles, drones, operative bases, and even heating units for the winter months. The Brotherhood lived side-by-side with this technology, re-programming it not only to serve them unconditionally, but allowing it to evolve all on it’s own and become an ever greater asset. The problem, however, was that it also went against the very core protocols that were initially hard-wired into the AI’s processors. Inevitably, the die was cast, and several of the hacked AI units turned on their supposed “allies”, gunning them down, causing massive vehicle wrecks, crashing drones into allied forces, and essentially creating enough havoc to have the last proverbial laugh. Gavon’s closest comrades were killed, by no fault of their own, but rather by the selfish actions of a power hungry faction and synthetic life that should have never been “awakened” in the first place.

“Chief TreVayne”

NO4H’s smooth digital voice over the comms broke his thoughts, causing him a momentary flinch.

“There is a civil disturbance in progress within the confines of The Siren’s Call pub located in the-”

“Yes, I know where it is. Were nearby units alerted?”

“Affirmative Chief, two agents are enroute and will arrive in...” A brief pause came before he continued. “Twenty seconds.”

Gavon cocked his head with a slight smirk. “Was that a lapse, Noah?”

“Negative. A recalculation based on the Agent’s shift from walking to running speed which would allow a more prec-”

“Okay, okay, I get it for fucks sake. Hard to believe we’re only minutes into post-launch and already there’s bar fights.”

The Chief found himself pacing back and forth along the center table, staring at the holographic images of the Hub’s layout, and its various hotspots. The Pub in question wasn’t anything new to him, as it had a very classic and traditional feel to it, like an old tavern by a sea-side town, a place where he and Natalie could unwind, grab a pint, and feel less like they were aboard a metal shoe box. Of course now that “shoe box” was about to fly through space, and perhaps stress of the launch, coupled with leaving a home and planet you will never see again, would incite any degree of disturbances.

“Noah, pull up a visual of the Pub’s interior as well as the street facing the entrance.”

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

Both Agents showed up just as the barkeep, Jonas, was restraining a woman who they had come to find out was Doctor Melanie Larson, the ship’s Therapist. Before long, one of the two patrols -Agent Stevens- was reviewing the video footage via his visor display, starting from ten minutes ago up until they entered. This was generally enough information for them to go by, but as far as what caused the initial outburst from the woman they were unsure of.

The second of the two guards -a female agent named Hawkins- was speaking with Jonas, as he and the Doctor were both seated at one of the small tables near the bar. Larson, however, seemed less than receptive and really didn’t care to speak at that time, but instead stared at the table’s decorative center piece with a blank expression while Jonas pleaded her case.

“Look Officer, it was all just a misunderstanding, too much alcohol mixed with nerves that were already disjointed from this whole launch experience. I’m not pressing any charges, and I do hope the woman over there doesn’t expect to either since she clearly had one too many drinks herself and decided to reciprocate. I’d say what’s done is done.”

“Doctor Larson” Agent Hawkins turned her attention toward the other. “We’re letting you off with fair warning, however this will show on your permanent record, and any further infractions such as this will result in harsher consequences.”

The other Agent had finished speaking briefly with the intoxicated couple, and as fired up as the woman was, she had decided not to press any charges.

“Central, this is Stevens, situation resolved at the Siren’s Call. Medical unit is en-route for the young lady, but otherwise Agent Hawkins will be escorting Doctor Larsen, via transit system, back to her quarters. Follow-up added in my report.”

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

Gavon stood with his arms crossed, reviewing the footage and audio, and quite taken aback by who the culprit was. He’d met Melanie Larson briefly in person several weeks back regarding an assessment and psyche evaluation report on a few of the new Security recruits. His first impression of the Doctor had been, for the most part, quite positive. Easy on the eyes he certainly remembered, very intelligent, and clearly professional in her mannerisms and work ethics. However, he sensed slight apprehension in her voice, as though his presence may have been a bit uneasy for her considering they both worked on opposite sides of the spectrum. She was one who delved into a person’s psyche, essentially there to help and rehabilitate, and his duty was sometimes perceived as one that punishes. A gross exaggeration of course, but some would only see it as black and white nevertheless.

Could the stress really be so bad for some, that it would cause violent outbursts, especially in a woman of her caliber and renown? Or was there more to the situation that wasn’t overly apparent. Either way, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that this case was slowly drifting out of his jurisdiction and would require an Investigator for further research and insight. A step that Gavon hoped wouldn't be necessary, for the sake of Doctor Larson’s career and status.

@Xandrya

"Thanks for setting that up." After a grumbling acknowledgment the line went dead, and the senior technician relayed the update to the engineering archive to the chief. "The Central Archive has amended protocols to the engineering database as you've requested, sir, but I still don't know why you didn't just have the AI do it. It would have taken a lot less time."

"Simple," Xaith remarked as he wiped some manifold residue from his hands onto his lab coat, "As sophisticated as it is, the AI is a secondary system." He peered over his peer's shoulder to verify all was in order. "Now, whenever any member of the engineering team files a maintenance report regarding other department's systems, they're notified and receive a copy."

"Is that really-" the assistant's interjection was interrupted by a maintenance request by security relating several devices having their serviced interrupted during the ship's initial uncoupling. The assistant pulled some repair teams from reserve and dispatched them, while the Chief added, "Make sure they do a structural analysis to identify how the systems were damaged. I want to know if there's an underlying problem, or..." he let the implication finish itself as he turned back to the console to a new report, adding only as an afterthought "I imagine security would also like to know if they can rule out sabotage."

Catching motion in the corner of his eye caused Xaith to move out of the path of his assistant's salute. Only after recognizing it as such did he turn to seem to whom the salute was issued, while his EEGARD drew up the appropriate profile in conjunction with a number of others. Xaith grimaced at the number of profiles, but did not interupt.

"Status!" The order was issued abruptly, and quite angerly.

"Sir, yes sir!" The assistant reported to a navy Lieutenant. "The vitae has uncoupled and began falling away from the planet. We should reach a safe distance to engage our engines in a few minutes."

"Why the delay?" The look on the lieutenant's face suggested her expertise lie elsewhere, as opposed to navigational component design.

"If I may," the Chief interrupted his assistant, "This ship's launch protocols are on schedule. A vessel as unwieldy as the Vitae would require a tremendous amount of force to break the from the planet's atmosphere." Xaith tapped the rim of his glasses to draw attention to them. In which the lenses clearly displayed the Vitae and some related calculations. "Instead, that energy was better spent aligning the jump drive to the quantum signature of a device already in space." He then pulled up the incident reports being filed from all over the ship, and mapped them to a 3d model being projected in central imaging. "These incidents are likely all due to the sheer-force stress being applied to the ship's hull, and interior frame, by Earth pulling away from us."

The lieutenant inspected Xaith as he inspected her. The look in their eyes mutually explained that they were sizing each other up, and the assistant fell out of sight, from their locked stare. An older woman, once blond and fit, it appeared there had been several years since she'd seen basic training. The bars on her collar gave away her rank and, while polished, the top coat had been worn from daily cleaning.

"You're out of uniform, Sargent. You're dismissed to go change," she said, casting her gaze down to SFC Calhound lab coat, as he finally allowed her profile to recenter in his glasses.

Three months out, he thought to himself as the calculations displayed in his glasses, that's gotta hurt... Xaith frowned as he responded, "Actually," he said and again wiped his hands on his lab coat, before pushing his glasses up his nose. "apparel ancillary to the performance of duty is within the accepted parameters of being found in uniform. And..." He paused a moment and addressed the computer "Noah, display Engineering command structure." SFC Calhound pointed to his name next to the title of Chief Engineer he added "Engineering's second in command does not don't give me orders."

Lt. Rorq's profile was summarily dismissed from Xaith's on screen display when another alert came in. Priority One.

"You," he said to his assistant. "Call two CERT teams, and have them meet me in Cryo." He turned to his second. "This job was never yours to be had. You didn't even make the short list. Hell, you're not even going to be up for review for three months." Xaith grabbed his kit and called over his shoulder to Lt. Rorq. "Draw up a schedule. I want every member of this department CERT trained by the end of the week."

"CERT?" The question came from Chief Calhound's assistant. While his second in command asked why the priority had been changed.

"Cryogenics Emergency Response Technician." Xaith confirmed the training of two on-site staff members, and left with a last note "All requests from Cryo have been changed to priority one, because taking care of those people is the reason we're here."

---

Karen wasn't enjoying her day. For starters, she realized halfway to her room that nobody else was heading in. Evidently, people were not required to be in their quarters for launch. It struck her as stupid, in terms of safety. Her thoughts were verified, after a fashion, as she saw a pair of security personnel rush away on some sudden emergency. Not the safety issues she imagined, sure, but safety issues nonetheless.

Speaking of which, post-launch Eden was a bit of a mess. The trees had lost a few branches as she feared, but less than she was truly afraid of. Whatever technical things were going on with the launch, Karen provisionally approved. It did, however, mean that Eden would have to be down for an hour or so while cleanup happened, and she didn't want any injuries on her watch since launch was still ensuing, so it would be even longer besides. She pulled out her PDA and spent a minute filing a maintenance request, listing it medium priority and potentially dangerous - clarifications in the "Any other comments" section.

With essentially nothing to do until in or after warp, and Karen didn't know enough to be sure which, she meandered through the hub, trusting her PDA to bring her back home later via its map. Despite having visited many times before, Karen had never needed to go much of anywhere except Eden, which was the biggest, most difficult to miss location in the Hub.

So for now, Karen contented herself with walking the streets... No, wait, it's a roof. And a street. But now she was on a bridge of sorts? What is this, an elevator that never goes down? Ohh, the down one is across the road. Maybe she could hop off the bridge to the floor below? There was no reason to, of course, but curiosity doesn't always listen to common sense. Regardless, there was a ladder, that someone was using. She supposed it was faster than going the fifty feet over to the elevators, but you couldn't really hold anything...

After a solid half hour of this stream of consciousness, Karen was starting to tire. She wasn't unhealthy, but she knew fully well that her weight was above the supposed ideal, and a bit above one standard deviation from the median as well. She tucked her brown hair back behind her ears and walked into a nearby tea shop, wondering if her orange frock was insensitive, since almost the entire ship had dressed in very dark colors, as if in mourning. Actually, she thought, while ordering an iced tea dubbed "Devil's Kiss", mourning made quite a bit of sense. Thus, orange was kind of insensitive to many billions of people. "Well shit." She thought, but very little could be done now.

When the tea arrived, Karen swiped her card and mused over how likely she was to overspend. She had never been great with a credit card, and thus always preferred cash. She hadn't payed attention to the ingredients of her tea while ordering, but took a decided interest now. The first sip was interesting, since it tasted both significantly sweetened, and noticeably bitter. She still had almost no idea what was in it, but it seemed a bit similar to black tea. By the halfway mark, she had noticed that the sweetness tended to disappear shortly after each swallow, but the bitterness lingered. Metaphors raced through Karen's head. It was like reckless love, it was like dealing with the devil, it was like that time in college she started frequently drinking coffee to keep herself working. That had ended very poorly, with caffeine addiction being a somewhat minor edition to the troubles of her past. The one thing she hoped the tea couldn't work as a metaphor for, was this journey. If leaving Earth behind was sweet, she did not dare to think of what may lie ahead.

"The Vitae is one of humanity's greatest creations, more akin to a moving city than a spacecraft. I'll allow you free wander of it." Dr. Phillips said to Michael as they walked leisurely towards the laboratory.

"I am appreciative of your blessing, doctor. The Vitae truly is a marvel of human ingenuity and teamwork," Michael replied as he glanced towards the old scientist. "It will be enthralling to speak with some of the many faces onboard the vessel."

"Yes, about that. I should caution you to not speak of your true nature. For all they know you're completely human. It would be best for all involved to keep it that way." Phillips said quietly as they paused in stride, he then placed a hand on the android's shoulder.

"I understand, should I lie to them?" Michael answered as quietly with a raised eyebrow. His expression soured as the last words trickled from his artificial lips. He glanced at one of his creators with an unsure curiosity.

"Well, if you have to. Consider it imperative that they only see you as human. I highly doubt anyone will think of you as anything else, but it's important for me to stress the point. They might not be ready for your true identity." Dr. Phillips spoke as a near whisper.

"That does seem like the correct way of going about the matter." Michael replied with a nod.

His programming took the creator's words deeply, secrecy was imperative. He'd forge a believable backstory that if need be he could spin as believable. He didn't like lying, but he was something new. Utterly different from what anyone on the ship imagined could be reality. Some of them would very well react poorly if his status as a synthetic was revealed.

---

Phillips had introduced him to a few of the other scientists that were present in the lab when he returned there. They all met Michael with kindness, a feeling he returned to them. They asked nothing of his past, the elder scientist only mentioned him as a 'promising young man' that was willing to assist them with anything. Then the ship lurched forward and surprised expressions appeared on the scientist's faces.

"It would appear we're finally beginning our journey." Dr. Phillips said with ebullience in his words, a smile on his face. The others in the room had a wide variety of expressions, sadness, nervousness, confusion. All of these indicated negative emotions, Phillips only showed excitement. They were leaving their homes, Michael reasoned internally. He'd never set foot on Earth, or Mars, or anywhere, the Vitae was his de facto home. Perhaps Phillips was as nervous as the others, but he could not allow it show.

"Have you been to Eden yet, Michael?" Phillips asked as the other scientists went back to their work stations as the ship continued to move. He knew the true answer to the question he was asking.

"No, I haven't." Michael replied a head shake as his mind danced over the word 'Eden'. A biblical reference, the Garden of Eden where God created the first two human beings. It was also an area on the ship, the naming scheme was a clever one. A place where people could relax in an Earth-like environment.

"You should visit there, help calm your nerves. We've got everything under control here." Phillips said with a calm look in his eyes. Then he walked away from the android to go over some data. Was that an order? A hint? A suggestion? Either way Michael decided to head there and quietly left the laboratory.

---

Michael paused in his walk as he looked around the bustling Hub. There were so many new noises, movements, colors and smells. Dozens of voices speaking in unison, he could understand none as people of all shapes and varieties walked by him without a glance in his direction. With a glance down from the walkway he stood he watched an inebriated man get pushed out a tavern. He fell down hard, whispering curses to himself as he tried to regain his balance.

Alcohol was a chemical many humans willingly indulged in massive quantities. Poisoning themselves for sheer enjoyment. It would have no effect on him if he were to ingest it. Michael's gaze left the drunk as he look around at his surroundings. He inadvertently stared at two women as they were walking by him. Both noticed this and giggled, one even waved in his direction. A gesture he returned as they kept moving, disappearing into the crowd. He'd need to be less obvious with his looks, humans considered staring rude, even if those two contradicted that. Michael kept walking towards Eden, with every step more curiosity rising inside of him.

---

The synthetic man stood in the grassy field, his arms extended as a light breeze blew against his false skin. Leaves rusted around him as trees swayed gently. The scent in the air was unlike anything else, it made him feel odd, natural, almost human. He shut his eyes and the wind continued to blow, it caused the false hairs on his hands to shift, the imitation follicles on his head to whip like the grass. Michael lowered his hands and strode forward towards a group of trees. Each step was composed with carefulness as he avoided crushing any leaves under his feet.

Michael stood in front of the tallest tree in his surroundings, then reached softly towards it. He ran his five fingers and palm down it slowly, the sensors in his mind gave him feedback of what he was touching, bark, rough, yet soothing to touch. The smile on his face disappeared as he removed his hand from the tree, then leaned against it gently, the wind breezing at his knees. Sadness crept onto him, this was only a brief sample of what Earth was. Home, something he never knew and never would. The others, the real people knew this true sadness, he only knew the imitation. Michael looked downwards at the green grass as he felt artificial tears forming.

"Looks like you're somewhat off the hook as they won't be pressing charges against you," Agent Hawkins said as she approached Melanie and Jonas in the middle of their conversation. Melanie sighed in relief, but she wouldn't thank the couple, much less apologize to the woman whom she had beaten senseless. It would only complicate matters and Melanie didn't feel like being detained, not after she'd been handed a get out of jail free card.

Both women stood up, and Hawkins' partner, Agent Stevens, started to leave as well. "Thanks for sticking up for me, Jonas. I promise we'll have that date very soon." They said their goodbyes, and Hawkins escorted Melanie to the nearest shuttle.

"I'm sorry to ask, Agent Hawkins, but I have an appointment in about 30 minutes. Is there any way to maybe...I don't know, let me see my last patient for today before I have to go back to my room?"

"My hands are tied, Doctor Larson, I'm sorry," she replied.

"It's okay, it isn't your fault."

As both women reached the entrance to the shuttle, the door slid open to allow them access inside. Being that Agent Hawkins needed transportation for official business, she was able to reroute the shuttle's scheduled path with her badge to allow her and Melanie to be dropped off next. The ride wasn't that long, lasting only about five minutes before they were dropped off in front of Melanie's quarters.

"Well, here you are," Hawkins said, pushing a few keys on her screen. "Please stay out of trouble, it will only get worse from now on."

"You got it!" Melanie waved her off, then went inside her room and walked directly to her bed. She'd deal with work at a later time. For now, she just wanted to rest.

The tour of the Archive took only fifteen minutes to show the entire area. The tour only showed off the important areas of the Archive: library, storage, and headquarters. The library was the place where you would be able to grab any physical book and start reading them. Storage was where they stored all of the films, books, shows, and other recordings for Earth. And finally, the headquarters was where the staff spent most of their time. Overlooking data and keeping an eye on the list of people using one of the recordings.

Kevin, Madison, Augustyn, and the rest of the workers got to work. It wasn't a few minutes before the Admiral spoke once more. It was finally time for the Vitae to leave Earth and the rest of humanity behind. Kevin and the others listened as the Admiral said that the Rejuvenation had just left Earth and their ark was next. Madison went over towards the library to see if any of the books would fall off of their shelves. Augusty stayed behind in storage to see if there were any damages to some of the recordings. And Kevin went towards the headquarters to overlook and fix any damaged systems. The workers soon split up and followed one of the three.

Kevin checked on the live footage of the takeoff to fix any technological errors. It was really happening, they were leaving behind Earth. He went into his pocket and grabbed a small photo of his family and held it close to his heart. His wife and two sons were placed in the cryogenic vault and frozen in time. The footage showed their ark leaving the deserts of Africa and going up to the skies as Kevin put the photo back into his pocket and got back to checking out the live footage.

The post-takeoff Archives didn't have any problems besides a couple of books that had fallen off of their shelves and some system errors. Madison and her workers immediately put the books back on their shelves. Augustyn and Kevin fixed the errors and glitches at their systems. After almost an hour of fixing and clearing up, the Archives looked better than it ever did. The books were reorganized, the recordings were checked on, and the headquarters looked perfect. Kevin was still seeing if the live footage was still working.

Madison and Augustyn returned to the headquarters. “How's the footage?” Madison asked.

“The footage has been tagged and saved into the storage.” Kevin answered Madison's questions while working.

“Good.” she said, “Why don't we take a break and go the Hub?”

“You all can go, but I am staying behind.” he told Madison.

“Kevin...” she said in a serious tone.

“Oh, fine.” he finally accepted defeat as he stood up and shut off the computer. He followed the others to the Hub. Before they could leave, Kevin informed the nearest security station to keep an eye on the Archives. He trusted the guards to do their job and keep an eye for any wannabe thieves. He hoped that the Head of Security would respond to the request. Since they were below the Hub, it didn't take long before they were in it. The trio had been in the Hub before and already established their 'hangout'.

Menedéket Café was a popular small cafe that based on a regular cafe that you would see in Eastern Europe. The cafe was nearly filled as the trio made their way inside the cafe, The workers had split up and planned on doing their own thing. Kevin and Madison sat at the nearest table as it was Augustyn's turn to order. The trio would often only get their drinks and a quick snack before going back to work. Kevin would get coffee and a chocolate muffin, Madison would get some water and a small sandwich, and Augustyn would get some whisky and a bowl of peanuts. After a moment, Augustyn came back and sat down.

It was busy in Menedéket as people went inside for a quick bite and to watch the live footage of the take-off. Being inside the cafe felt like home to many people as it looked more like any cafe and bar in the major cities. The trio talked about their future aboard the ark.

Madison brought her fifty-six year old mother, her young sister, and her husband. Her father decided to stay back in Dallas, Texas to 'protect the citizens'. He was one of the officers in the Dallas Police Force that helped formed defenses around the city. Her mother said that 'he was stubborn to leave behind his job'. Madison agreed with her mother's word as she knew that he'd never leave Earth for any reason. Thankfully, he got his patrol dog with him. Augustyn was one of the people that couldn't bring someone. His mother and father had died a couple years due to natural causes. His brother was in the autism spectrum and the arks 'didn't provide the care that he regularly needed'. His aunt told that he was going to take care of his brother. Augustyn didn't mentioned if he was still alive or not, because he stopped talking about it as soon as the waiter came with their drinks and snacks.

Both Madison and Augustyn didn't truly know Kevin besides that he came with his family and worked as a history teacher. He didn't bothered telling them about his work as an ambassador with the Federation. But, he did tell them about his mother, father, and six siblings and how they were at the White House. The American president offered shelter to the citizens in this time of need before the Devastators destroyed everything in their path. It made Kevin sad as he thought of them. For the remaining lunch break, they just ate and made small talk. It helped make them forget about the invasion that was going to happen.

Kevin prayed that the Devastators just kill everyone quickly; but, he knew that it was pointless to pray that.

While the Eye of Theia was orbiting Earth it wasn't exactly a short trip to get there, even at maximum (safe) thrust within an hour they were no more than three quarters of the way there. For the most part the bridge crew had been relatively quiet, talking among themselves. Some of them took a minute for quiet prayer while William just stood watching the holomap on front of him. He knew it was pointless watching the battle when he couldn't do anything to help, all he was doing was tearing himself a part even more as he watched as the Devastators slowly chewed through the fleet. At least Rita didn't have to see this, she was such a firestarter she probably would have went to help if she could see the size of the Devastator fleet now...

All being said something didn't seem quite right to him. The Devastators followed no real strategy but attacking Mars still made little sense, it was obvious that Earth was the one that was undefended. Anyone with military training would have hit the soft target first, especially one that would deal such a devastating blow to morale. That said the Devastators weren't exactly known for making sense, he'd leave it for the analysts to determine what was going on. They'd have plenty of time to theorize on the Devastators and what they were doing, what their goals are.

Suddenly an alarm began sounding throughout the bridge. "Report!" William wasted no time in typing commands into the table on front of him, the surface of the Earth appearing in a view that shown the shipyards housing the remaining nine Arks, one of them visibly detatching from the dock.

"Unknown energy source detected above the shipyard Sir, the reading is off the scale. Matches that of Devastator based technology, no idea as of yet of the-"

Static erupted the screen as a Massive Ship appeared above the shipyard, easily as long as an Ark itself. William could feel the room stiffen, ships a fraction of the size had done tremendous damage to Human vessels. A ship the same size as an Ark was no doubt capable of tremendous destruction, even the wake caused by it's jump sent shockwaves that could be seen rippling around it pushing everything that it came in contact with. That was just using a hologram, he couldn't even imagine what it felt like to be one of those arks struck by the concussive blast. Hundreds, thousands of smaller signatures began spewing from it's belly, beams lancing striking everything in their path. The cannons on the arks lit up, creating a barrier of flak in their defense. Though it was too little, too late. As a massive beam shot down from the mothership, cutting a ark in two.

That was all William needed to see. "Divert all non-essential power to engines-" He didn't need to repeat himself, his voice was being transmitted to the entire bridge and relayed further to the likes of security and engineering. "-have all essential personnel report to their stations, that includes cryogenics and the archives. Have all non-essential return to their quarters until further notice." Already at this point a low toned alarm and a yellow light flared throughout the hallways, as all the signs and screens in the ship relayed the orders. "Inform the hangar bay they have five minutes to refit a squadron for anti-fighter duty and get in the air, I want a defensive perimeter set."

William keyed in several commands to the table, bringing up their own course to the Eye and zooming out to view the Destiny on their tail. He turned to Joanne as he indicated that she should turn to her own terminal on the holotable. "Prime keys for Exodus Protocol." He typed in his authorisation, as Joanne did the same. Accepting the verification on his smaller screen he viewed the command. Not acting on it he just let it sit there.

"You sure about this Admiral?" He nodded at her.

"If they catch up with the Destiny or even make a beeline for it we have no choice but to follow protocol."

"If we do that only-"

"If we do that we'll have saved as many people as possible. We can't save everyone, you signed up knowing that. Otherwise you wouldn't be here."

---

"Exceptional record, for what I know about you. Though if I can ask sir, why am I here?" Joanne sat across from him in full dress uniform in contrast to William who simply sat in his regular on duty attire. After all he had spent the day split between familiarizing himself with the ships systems and interviewing officers and heads of departments. He was building not just a ship, but a society and a family. If they didn't get a long, he didn't want them. That said he wanted an XO who would call him out if he did anything questionable, and from her record she fit the bill.

"You're here because of your record Commander." He pulled out her file, her full file. He saw her eyes widen at it, they were in conflicting militaries after all. Just as she couldn't access his full classified file, she believed he didn't have access to hers.

"How did you get that?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm entrusted to safeguard a portion of the human race for the eons, and you think I can't get a classified file just because you're not Martian?" She nodded her head, after all he did raise a valid point.

"You enlisted at eighteen, became a fighter jock. Different route than I took personally, but no less commendable. Like most pilots you were known for being hot headed, didn't always agree with your superiors. In fact by your whole record there are at least twenty blemishes on your record from when you decided to disobey orders, why?"

"They weren't good orders sir."

"So you didn't follow them?"

"I completed the objectives sir, I just did them in a more effective way." William chuckled. "Sir?"

"So, say if you were under my command and I made a decision you didn't agree with, would you call me out on it?"

"If it was a stupid decision, yes sir." He just smiled. "Are you offering me a position?"

"I am Commander, I'm looking for an X-O. Now it won't be good to you, no doubt it'll be long tedious hours and it'll be stressful to. Though I don't expect you to break easily, it'll save you and up to three family members. I also think you're the right kind of material to help me run this ship and make sure we all get to where we're going." William offered her his hand. "What do you say Commander?"

---

William watched as small blue blips appeared surrounding the Vitae indicating that the fighters had launched, he nodded at Joanne. "Tune into their battlenet, keep them right. It'll help motivate them knowing you're the one doing it, they noticed your exploits at the battle of Ceres after all." She nodded as she picked up her headset and tuned in, that's when he turned back and looked at the map. A swarm of red was approaching the Destiny at a rapid pace, her own fighters launched. Though unlike the Vitae she let them all loose, it was a bold move. If she was to jump now, or to successfully escape she ran the risk of loosing all her veteran pilots in one engagement.

Though everyone ran their own ship differently, and he had no place to judge. "Weapons."

"Sir?"

"Deploy missile pods, long range. Open fire on the swarm, we're going to give our sister ship as much cover as we can muster. Have all weapon crews begin calculations for long range engagement I want everything but the main cannon ready to fire."

"Yessir." William could hear him speaking into his respective comm system and he just nodded as he continued to look up at the hologram.

He didn't dare turn the screen back to that of the surface of Earth, fearing what he'd see. Instead he kept his eye alert for any signs that the mothership was breaking her position to come after them. If that was the case he'd just call for a jump, they had no intel on it's capabilities. Though the last thing he expected to come through to him was a request from comms, though when it did come through he was even more surprised it wasn't from Admiral Lance from the Destiny. "Admiral, we're receving a signal from the Devastor mothership."

"From the Devastators? What kind of signal."

"It appears to be some form of hail, I don't quite understand it."

"Ensure the firewalls are secure-" He tapped his earpiece momentarily turning off his microphone. "Noah."

The holographic avatar appeared below the holomap. "Yes, Admiral?"

"Ensure that the comms system is secure, I want you to make sure that this signal isn't carrying some form of computer virus."

"Yes Admiral." He tapped his earpiece again.

"Put it through." He didn't really know what to expect, other than something he couldn't understand and that was exactly what he got He tapped his piece again stopping the alien message to speak to the ensign manning the comm station. "Have Erik Karlson brought up here, see if he can make heads or tails of this garbage."

"Yes Sir."

It was just a waiting game now, he watched as the first salvo of missiles launched towards the swarm. Nothing they could do but head for the Eye. He contemplated sending his squadrons to assist the Destiny as if it got overwhelmed that would mean only two Arks made it through, but at the same time he had to think about the Vitaes survival. If he lost those two squadrons now, that could mean the difference between life and death at a later stage. Everything was a balancing act, everything had an effect and from now on that was amplified to not just affect him and his crew but all the civillians aboard the ship including those who were cryogenically frozen.

No, they'd make a beeline for the Eye and support Destiny long range. There was nothing else they could do for them now.

Erik was stunned as he watched vast red lasers suddenly lathe across the Earth below. He stared as he watched his home being blasted, and watched tiny specks of light swarm. He traced back along the beam and his confusion turned to a pure terror. An enormous bone-like craft had appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and was firing on the Earth. Erik watched mesmerized by the devastation. He supposed that was why they called them the Devastators.

He was snapped out of his bleak revelry by the computer system. "Dr. Karlson, you're needed urgently on the bridge."

"I'm what?" he snapped in English, "What do they need me for, they have more important things to be attending to!" he yelled, gesturing out the window.

"I'm sorry sir, but the Admiral has expressly requested your presence. He believes you can be of some assistance." NO4H replied.

Erik frowned and turned for the door, grabbing a notebook from the table, which read only 'Base Studies.' He grumbled "There's only one reason they could need me on the bridge, and it isn't going to be good for any of us." He looked at the light on the wall that signified the computer's presence. He realized it had paused because it was adjusting to his speaking German.

"Excellent sir, you've been given temporary express clearance to use any and all transport to the bridge. There's a bus at the end of the hallway." The computer said, also in German.

Erik simply nodded and rushed out of the room. He pushed past several people as the shipwide announcement sending everyone back to their rooms flooded them towards him. He was the only one going towards the end of the hall, rather than away, and he was forced to push and shove, shouting that he needed to get through. Just as he was sure he would never make it, a blue light shone down onto him, and the crowd, frightened, moved out of his way.

He broke into a sprint, and slid to a stop at the end of the hall. He jumped onto the bus, and slid his card through the reader. The doors slammed shut, and bus shot off towards the bridge. Erik panted, exhausted by his run. Moving that quickly at 54 was something to be proud of. He sat for a few minutes, worrying about what he was about to have to do. Finally, the bus dinged to let him know he had arrived.

He pushed out of the bus before the doors opened all the way, and rushed onto the bridge. He stopped and looked around, before he spotted the Communications officer partway across the room. He pushed some crew members out of the way "Move, Kinder." He rushed down the aisle and pulled up along side the Officer. "Doctor Erik Karlson, er, reporting, sir. If I might ask, what in Hellige Helvede is going on?"

The klaxons sounded the alert status, and the order came down from on high to report to battle stations right as the chief engineer and his technicians had reached Cryogenics. "Chief?" one technician asked as both looked expectantly toward SFC Calhound, as dozens of things flashed through his glasses.

"I know, I know," he said, "Until further notice these are your battle stations. Coordinate with the other CERT teams to ensure there are no casualties here. Awake, or asleep."

"And you, sir, are you going back to engineering?" the other technician asked.

"No," said Xatih, as he turned down a different corridor, "I am needed elsewhere." After disappearing out of sight he called down to Main Engineering. "Lt. Rorq," he said with a note of effort denoting his pace, and distraction as many schematics passing through his EEGARD. "If ever there was a time for you to prove you can do my job now would be it."

"What? Now!?" the lieutenant hollered back into the comms, while the rush of technicians and engineers could be heard in the background. All hands were on deck, and all were calling to their lieutenant for orders.

With a nearly audible wry grin the Sargent responded: "Mettle is forged in fire, Lieutenant."

---

Flashback

"Congratulations on your selection to join the Arks program, Sargent." The statement came across a table, atop of which rested a single personnel file, over which the statement traveled to the ears of one SFC Calhound. The woman issuing it was standing behind her desk, facing a window looking outward, at the Viate in its cradle.

A woman of rigid posture, the kind that demanded respect, and whom seemed to embody the full uniform she wore turned to face the equally formally dressed Sargent First Class. "The Army Corps of Engineers insists there is no one more suited to this position than you are." she sternly noted as she sat down across from him at her desk.

"Yes, Commander," Xaith said in acknowledgement of the three bars on her shoulder. "I assume you asked," he added whist catching the commander's glance of dismay at his file, "just to be sure."

Despite their formal dress, it was an informal interview, as far as Xaith was informed. Informal, but not casual. Commander Carter let loose a cutting glare across the table which spoke more than she may have intended to. It would seem both of them had trouble drawing a line between the two.

Xaith clarified: "I merely meant it must have been over your staunch objections, that I was requested to join your ark."

CDR Carter flipped open the file to emphasize coming to a point. "I don't know, nor do I care, how you Ground Pounders run your shit-show, but black ops and red tape does not a good engineer make." She flipped through page after page of redacted documents. The black pen of government censorship spared only references to other classified documents, implications of existing schematics, and research programs. In the foot notes were supervisors thoughts, though their names had also been struck from the record, about SFC Calhound's performance and aptitude.

In short the printed page was more black than white, and she continued. "I am assured you've had your hands in the creation or implementation of a majority of the systems the Ark uses; but I can only find a handful of concrete examples. How can that be, Sargent?" CDR Carter closed the file and folded her hands over while she talked, only for the frustration of the stonewalling to creep back into her voice. "How can a drifter like yourself—the son of an Irish Rover, and a Indian Gypsy—be steeped in so much..." she paused for a moment to find a tactful way to express the idea. After a moment of being at a loss, she simply stated "unhealthy mystery?"

Xaith cocked his head and raised his brow. Addressing her concerns one at a time he simply replied: "The army has never had a history of playing well with the navy. As my file suggests, I did not climb the ranks quickly, as that career path did not interest me. Instead I was offered many opportunities for lateral advancement. You see a drifter, they see an ambitious man willing to do what is needed. Be where he is wanted. Do you want to know the secret of living a charmed life, Commander?"

Now it was the commander's turn to raise her brow in disbelief. Perhaps, if nothing else, his explanation might be entertaining. Some 'wisdom' from the tribalistic subcultures of two otherwise civilized societies.

"It's not about finding a place you're needed. It's about being invaluable wherever you find yourself."

---

Present

The reminiscing came to an abrupt stop as Xaith did. He was standing outside of one of computer control's secondary nodes. Nodes through which many of NO4H's procedure execution protocols were routed. Those with the right training and clearance may be able to identify the node as a non-vital portion of Noah's personality. Or, at least, where the hardware was stored that such portions of his personality may be routed through.

"Computer," he stated to the magnetically sealed door, "Engineering Override to AI supplementary interface control twelve. Chief Engineer's authorization N-4-H-Gamma dash twelve."

A pleasant tonal beep came from the door with a corresponding singular LED light which turned from red to green.

As he addressed the computer again, he stepped inside and inspected the singular console held within a room the size of a closet, that had been filled with shielded drives and data-cores. "This is a technical priority override to NO4H's adjunct/adjutant protocols." The tone played from the console as a light flicked in acknowledgement. "Computer. Initiate conservation of AI processing, and send a general alert to all affected systems. The NO4H program will presently not acknowledge, nor accept, requests from non-essential personnel. The N-O-4-H will disband the operation of non-essential functions and return control to their original facilitators. Issue with the notice, that this is an Emergency Lock-out by the chief of engineering for safety and security of all."

After typing in a long series of command code authorizations, the NO4H AI was reigned in, and a considerable amount of its processing power was freed up. "Noah. Acknowledge."

"Acknowledging."

"Noah, all support functions not required for this ships operation have been re-routed for one singular purpose: you are to establish and calculate a trajectory from the Destiny's current position, to the Hyperspace muti-positional docking array, with specificity of being aligned for imitate use. Further, any deviation to calculated route will constitute a request for recalculation. Acknowledge."

In a smooth, mechanical voice distinguishable by law from that of an ordinary human's, NO4H responded, "Acknowledged."

Xaith continued as he brought up the multi-ship consultation protocols, "Once calculations are complete, encode them with the following protocols. Then, await orders to transmit."

"Sir?" Noah paused to verify the orders, "These are weapons modulations protocols."

"Confirmed," Xaith said in equal monotone pitch, before explaining: "While a majority of the Vitae's weapons are projectile weapons, they still have supplementary laser guidance systems. Laser Encoding, while dated, is the most effective manner we presently have to transmit this mass of information to the Destiny.

Noah's voice perked up as the transmission simulations finished. "Utilizing the weapons guidance systems, we could arrange the data in packets designed to be interpreted by the Destiny's shield system."

"Except," Xaith qualified, "It would be interpreted by the on-board defense systems a transmission to engineering, rather than registering damage."

"I'm not authorized to access the ship's weapon systems without direct order from the bridge." Noah said with a simulated note of dismay in his projected voice.

"Chief Engineer to Bridge," Xaith called into the waiting comm line, "We have a plan, but I don't think anyone up there is going to like it." He continued his explanation without interruption, "If we can coordinate a stutter-step for the Destiny, she can get through the Eye before being destroyed." While he hadn't the time to get into what it meant to Stutter-Step he hadn't met an pilot alive, certified to operate a jump capable ship, who wasn't familiar with the idea of overcharging the jump drive to string together two back-to-back jumps. In this case, the secondary jump would instead be a rapid-burst charge to aid the Eye spool protocol. "We can run all the calculations from here, and beam them to the Destiny, but this plan is not without its risks."

Xaith shook his head and tried to calm his nerves. "Captain," he turned his address to the admiral who was in-charge of the final decision, "It's like threading a needle with a jump engine. I'm confident the Destiny can do it, and that the Vitate can do it, but only one of us can do it. If one of our ships stutter-steps into docking, and engages the Eye, the enemy fleet will have no choice but to focus the other."

There were other risks, of course, but the primary concern was to present the option: it was surely possible that one ship may need be sacrificed for the other. It was equally possible that sharing the brunt of the assault, and distributing the damage received equally between them, could save both ships. "The problem is, in order to make the necessary trajectory analysis, the ship performing the calculations can not be in combat. Once in combat, the reserve processing power will be gone."

---

Flashback

"Don't you care?" CDR Carter asked across her desk as the evening light filtered in through the window. Being back-lit made the question feel even more imposing, until the Commander clarified "About people I mean. About this planet and what's happening to it."

"It's not something that motivates me emotionally," Xaith coldly responded as they concluded their interview, "if that's what you're asking. An enlisted-men's job is doing, and I care about my work." There was a rigid seriousness to his answer, as though he expected it to offend. "Beyond that, no. I don't care about this species. Things are... a lot simpler that way." He could feel the cold stare on him, as though he had confessed to being alien to even the idea of humanity. "When people are overly emotionally invested they make bad decisions. So, I focus instead on what I can do, for myself and for those around me, to see to it my work not only continues but also has a reason to."

---

Notes

“SecCen, this is Agent Hawkins. Doctor Larson has been escorted to her quarters, and I'm currently en route back to the Hub. Over.”

“Copy that, Stevens is doing a last sweep of the area and will rendezvous at Checkpoint B3. SecCen out.”

Security Central, or “SecCen” as it was referred to, had been busily preparing for the journey through the Eye, and Gavon found himself pacing once again from one console to the other, ensuring consistency in both his dispatch team as well as the computer information. Natalie assured her husband on more than one occasion that he wasn’t necessarily expected to monitor every little piece of activity happening within his Division, and that the AI was here to help alleviate that work. However, this was really the first day for him as Chief of Security, the first real day since they left Earth, and he was going to make sure nothing went wrong on his watch.

It seemed that the launch was successful so far, albeit leaving a wake of sorrow in it’s trail for many, and yet for others, a glimmer of hope toward a new future. Radio check-ins from various Agents throughout the Ark caused endless chatter within the main communications room, where a half dozen specialists received, transmitted, and relayed information to each Patrol Agent per written instructions by Chief TreVayne. The post-launch camera outages which occurred on various levels -as per Chief of Engineering, Calhound- were most likely due to signal disruptions on the initial takeoff, but his team have nevertheless been dispatched to resolve the issues. He didn’t know much about the Engineering Chief, except from brief glimpses of personnel reports, and relatively positive reviews of his work ethics. Overall, he trusted Chief Xaith Calhound enough to keep the large metal boat from sinking, partly because he seemed a man bound by duty, but more so because he really had no other choice but to trust him.

A message from the Archives section came through, and to the disappointment of many patrol agents, the request for additional guards for a temporary amount of time while the administration personnel stepped away for a short break. As much as Agent of the Security Division wanted to see action on a daily basis, some assignments were rather low on their list of places to be, and the Archives was probably one of them. Either way, they all knew their duty was to the safety of the Vitae and it’s crew, regardless of their post.

For the most part, it was typical protocol for the Security Division of the Vitae, and aside from a few minor incidents that were quickly resolved, things were running as any well-oiled machine should be…

And then the ghost ship arrived, bringing with it a whole new set of problems.

Shortly after Locke’s announcement came over the ship wide communication system, power was being diverted to various engine functions, causing a slight flux of system response within Security Central’s main hub and it’s sub-bases.

“This is Chief TreVayne, I need all non-active Agents suited up and ready A-SAP and all active Agents will need to begin security protocols Alpha-Niner-Two-Six-Charlie in their respective sectors. Safety of the crew comes first. This is not a drill, I repeat this is not a drill.”

The Chief locked his gaze onto the multiplex monitors that showed crowds of crewmembers quickly exiting the Hub, Eden, and various other recreational districts that a good majority of the civilian and non-essential population frequented. Agents throughout the Ark initiated a “crowd control” protocol, sealing off certain areas of the ships from further unauthorized access, and funneling massive crowds toward the transit systems where they would be greeted and escorted by additional Agents until safety secured in their quarters. Panicked and concerned questions were presented to just about every Agent at one time or another, but the same answer came as though it had been rehearsed a thousand times: “This is Ark-wide safety protocol”.

In the chaos though, most of the Agents themselves didn’t quite know what was transpiring outside of the ship, nor whether the Vitae was going to make it to the Eye, but it wasn’t their job to worry about the unknown.

“Chief...” Natalie spoke up, all the while multi-tasking through keycode inputs, diagnostic readouts, and network signals. “Scanning system security and firewall integrity as yielded very little trace of any network breach that we’ve detected as of yet. On top of that, Noah, has been essentially pulled in so many directions that response times have dropped slightly, but he’s reassured me that there is no breach as of yet.”

Natalie looked over at her husband, whose arms were crossed and his expression a mixture of doubt and anger. She didn’t envy him in a time like this, but knew Gavon could handle the position as Chief of Security better than most, and with a vast team of trained Agents backing his command, wouldn’t allow any incident to go down without a fight.

Karen was fighting off panic. She had been working her way back to Eden when the announcement came. Suddenly, people were pouring out of buildings a turning into a tumultuous tide of frightened bodies. Having very little idea of how to get to her room, Karen's first action was to get out of the main flow, and second was to pull out her PDA so NO4H could show her the way. There was a delay she wasn't used to, as countless other people also pulled out devices for info, be it about what was outside or how to get to these new rooms they had yet to visit after boarding today. Karen began the journey of stumbles, but managed to avoid falling while working her way through the tide.

But then her PDA went dark. Not quite literally, but it was no longer showing her route or a map. The same went for everyone else. Their signals were either gone or being ignored, and nobody knew what to do or where to go. The tide slowed as people began pleading security agents to help find their rooms and those who had investigated outside couldn't help jumping to conclusions that Karen overheard.

"Did they hit us?"
"Are we under cyber-attack?"
"Did the Destroyer take out the bridge?"

Karen didn't want to think about those things, and it wasn't her job. Instead, she did everything in her power to not panic, and otherwise went with the general flow of people headed out towards the living spaces. Once there, she figured in her half-dazed state, she'd be near to her room, right?

Sara slumped in the seat of her fighter, listening to the chatter and roar around them, and passing by the time sharing stories with her the other pilots of her squadron. Sure they were a single unit, but they had been through vastly different circumstances before being assigned to the Vitae. For instance, while Loch, like Sara was an Earth-raised Armani, Crowly was a martian-borne and refused to undertake any of the augments that the other pilots had. Thomas, was every bit the adventurous Armani spirit, and Lin used to be part of an acting troupe.

Suddenly, all the lights shut off and were replaced by the dim red of the Hangar's emergency lights, supplemented by the headlamps of various technicians and engineers. The entire hangar was silent and still for a single moment before quickly springing back into action. Power had just been diverted from their lights to most likely something that needed it more, which meant something was going down. Sara pushed open her cockpit and stood up, her helmet's headlight automatically activating to illuminate the space in front of her.

"What the hell is going on?" Sara shouted, as a team of techs sprinted to her fighter, mechanical dollys loaded with ordinance following them. While there were dedicated stations for changing out munitions in the hangar, when the alert-5 fighters were in the launch bays, any chance in ordinance was brought to them and changed out by hand.

"Devastators!" Replied her crew chief, grunting as he helped some of the techs heft one of the heavy trebuchet missiles. "We're switching out the Trebuchet missiles for Serpent missile pods."

"What the hell are Serpent missiles going to do against Devastators?" Sara grumbled as she sat back down in her seat. The crew chief didn't have to bother answering her, almost as if on cue, Sara's CAG came on the comms.

"Grave Robbers," barked the gruff commander's voice, "Direct orders from the bridge to scramble a squadron outfitted with anti-fighter weapons. We have reports of small Devastator signals exiting a massive Devastator that has jumped in over Earth. Command has concluded that these must be some sort of fighter-type Devastator."

"Roger that," Sara replied as she sat back down in her seat, watching her smart-display change as her 4 of her 6 trebuchet missiles were replaced with Serpent missile pods- each pod sporting 5 small, but potent missiles- a single one capable of critically disabling a T-22 fighter. Her display read 20 Serpent missiles and 2 Trebuchets, and her squadron mates were likely being fitted out the same way. Noises from the crews in the hangar suggested that the Barracudas squadron on the other side of the hangar, and several other squadrons were being outfitted in similar fashion too.

"Thats a lot of Serpent missiles," Sara noted with a low whistle, "Sure we got enough?" she remarked offhandedly to the rest of her squadron.

"No, I don't think we do." the CAG replied- Sara had forgotten to close off the comm channel, allowing the CAG to throw out his opinion. It didn't make Sara feel any better. They must really be in some shit.

"Alright Sara, you're good to go." Called her crew chief through his mic as he began sprinting out of the catapult, other engineers in tow. "Good hunting, Hawkins."

Around her, the catapult's blast shield lifted up, and the launch catapult shut itself off from the rest of the ship and began depressurizing. The launch doors opened, revealing to Sara the blackness of the deep empty. Now, the only sources of color and life within view were the display monitors, and her squadmate's bio-signs quietly blinking in the corner of her vision. The catapult's runway floor lit up, revealing to her the path, and the launch display rapidly cleared her.

"Sara Hawkins, launching." Sara reported as she pushed her throttle stick forward and her fighter blasted out of the bay, the speed of her ship forcing her head into the back of her headrest.

The view was incredible. Spectacular and terrifying at the same time. The void of space that surrounded their home planet of Earth was now filled with dozens upon dozens of Devastators. Swarms of angry red dots flew towards them, all while their mothership, a Devastator as big as an Ark wreaked havoc on the ground. On the Vitae's side a spread out line of Arks fled towards their destination, tiny flecks of blue lights- the thrusters of Ark's aerospace fighters, deployed from their motherships and moved to defend. A swarm of red dots was rapidly approaching the Destiny to the Vitae's rear, and the Destiny had deployed what looked like all of their fighter wings to combat them. The Vitae had launched just the Grave Robbers and the Barracudas, holding the rest in reserve. It was a conservative play, one that Sara understood, if not particularly liked.

"Hawkins, 7th Grave Robbers, moving into defensive formation." Sara reported to the bridge, her counterpart in the Barracudas replied in a similar fashion.

Collab by Draken and Heat
Eden, 10 minutes into the Devastator Ambush

After around five minutes wandering around the outskirts of the Hub, looking for her room, Karen decided that it was too slow and she could justify to an authority being located at her work- Eden. She couldn't dash, not for so large a distance, but her feet moved swiftly back to the center of it all. The guards seemed to assume that, despite not being in uniform, she had an important place to be. After all, why else would she have such apparent determination while moving against the instructed flow.

Upon arrival, Karen took a solid thirty seconds to catch her breath, before giving a cursory check of the treeline. With a final deep breath, she began her walk into the woods, looking about at the sycamore trees. She had chosen them for the speed at which they could grow, and grown they had. The little bits of carnage worried her- she hadn't anticipated large amounts of detrius so early in her little ecosystem. What surprised her, though, was the young man leaning against one of the trees. He seemed handsome, though his face was down and chest slowly heaving from irregular breath. Crying, and generally having the physiological symptoms of an emotional breakdown. Both her understanding of human emotions and ship policy demanded she comfort him and help him along.

"Hey." She spoke softly, hoping to ease him out of his thoughts. "Mind if I keep you company?"

Michael's eyes were downwards even as he heard the sounds of footsteps approaching him. Then he heard words spoken to him, a female. He looked up from the grassy floor to find a brown haired woman in an orange frock standing near him, her eyes on him as the final soft words escaped her lips. As soon as he had a line of sight on her his internal database dug through for any profiles matching the woman.

One returned positive, Karen Anderson, 34, biologist with experience in xenobiology. A brief biography of her was in his files, which his internal scanners went through quickly for any relevant information.

"If you wish to, I seem to have wandered into here and was overtaken by the sights and sounds of it all." Michael replied as he rose a sleeve to wipe the artificial tears from his face.

"I'm surprised I haven't met more people in tears, to be honest." She replied. "Everybody loved someone, and I'm sure almost all of us wish we could have brought along more than two people." Karen had no idea who this man was, but she could at least appeal to what she thought were common sympathies. She was no therapist, though, and even in conditions where her assumptions were correct, this likely would not have improved the situation.

"Would you like to walk with me for a bit? I surpervise Eden, here, and need to make a round of it before I return to my room." Her lie was simple, but a lie nonetheless. Michael's databases informed him that no such rounds were required in a military emergency.

Michael listened to her words as they were spoken, each one processed so that he could return a proper response. She did not know of his true origin, assuming that he was crying over losing family and friends. He detected her lie, internally confused at her reasoning for it. Yet he did not speak against it as his lips moved.

"That sounds interesting, but I would not feel right if I did not introduce myself properly beforehand. You can call me Michael, I work with Dr. Phillips and the other scientists as an assistant. It is nice to meet you." Michael said as a charming smile appeared on his face, his usual manners on display. He then extended a hand for her to shake. His files noted this as a key part in proper human interaction.

Karen, however, noted it as very slightly peculiar. She wondered what this man was used to to be able to nearly turn on a time and put on a nice face so quickly. She took his hand nevertheless. "I'm Karen. I've already told you what I do, but I'm also here for my understanding of xenobiology." She also took the chance to help him up while their hands were already locked.

The two walked off slowly towards the center of Eden, with Karen being moderately confiden that quiet company was what Michael needed, and Michael not entirely being sure what to do in this social situation, and following her lead of silence. While not absolute, the insects were infrequent and the wind's whistling through the branches was the only sound thing to regularly pierce the nothingness.

The descent into orbit had gone swimmingly. The flight towards the eye had proceeded with no problems. Besides the sadness in every crewman. But that could never be fixed. The devastators were still at mars and even though they were breaking through the defensive lines they would still have enough time to make it to the eye. It seemed like everything was going to plan. Until it didn't. Theodore had made himself comfortable on his chair sipping his water. That should have been bourbon. Theodore did realize however that drinking while on duty was a good way to get put in the brig. So he begrudgingly admitted to himself that maybe it was a good idea that someone had taken his drink away.He looked at his screen typing a few commands to make sure the ship ran smoothly. The engines were still running fine. In fact, everything was running fine. Too fine. Before Theodore could take another sip an alarm sounded through the bridge. Crewman started to look around in panic as a new ship appeared on the interface. Whatever the ship was it had never been seen before and was huge. Theodore's mouth fell wide open as he looked at the monstrosity. For a moment he stood frozen not even realizing the ship was in their direct flight path. He was able to only utter one simple sentence.

" Fuck me that thing is big!"

He looked at the alien vessel as it started to launch fighters." Fighters ! Since when do these bastards have fighter craft!" He thought to himself as he sprung into action. He started typing like a maniac and used the route the tactical officer had given him. Then the alien vessel fired. Cutting one of the arks in half. There was a moment of dread that went down Theodore's spine. There was a small part of silence in the ship. A mix of fear hate molded into one. It had only taken one shot to take out an ark. And if they didn't do something quick they would be next. Then the admiral's voice rolled through the bridge breaking the spell.
"Divert all non-essential power to engines."Theodore couldn't have said it better himself. And as the engines started to go all the way he could feel the sweat coming from him. This felt all really familiar. Way to familiar

---

Years ago at the last battle of the three day's war.


The battle was a fireworks display. As lasers and metal, slag filled the empty void. Ships exploded in spectacular fashion. Alien and human alike. But More human ships were exploding than alien. Theodore Looked over the battlefield with a mix of pride of taking part in this battle and at the same time horrified. he then heard his uncle's voice roar through the bridge shouting orders. Clearly, he was panicking. The ship they were one, A reaper class cruiser hadn't been in the battle that long and had for the most part they had been joined by other ships. Now these ships were drifting into pieces. They were the last remaining ship left. Isolated and easy picking for any alien that found them. It wasn't such a surprising that his uncle was starting to become nervous. He had a right to be for christ sakes. Then the captain directed his commands to Theodore and his tone somewhat changed. Less harsh and with a twinge of kindness.

" Helm. set our coordinates to the nearest battlegroup."

" Yes, captain."

The idea of both of them being put on the same bridge was always a bad idea. Family working together could create problems in tense situations. But in their case, it worked just fine. With the occasional favoring of course. But that was to be expected. As He steered the ship towards battlegroup Omega an alarm rang through the bridge.

" Status report!" His uncle screamed.

" Sir, we have an incoming Devastator ship moving towards our position."

" Is it alone?"

" Yes, sir that seems to be the case."

He sighed and thought for a moment. He could either attack the ship which would follow them anyway and deal more damage towards the battlegroup. Or they could engage the enemy, Take some damage or heavy damage in the progress and limp back to anyone in range. He went for the second option.

" Helm ! Set a course for the enemy ship. Weapons prepare to fire when in range lets kill ourselves some filthy alien bastards !"
A cheer of agreement filled the bridge as Theodore steered the ship in attack position. The Reaper fired it's first volley it's cannons firing wildly at the enemy chewing through its armor. Slowly but surely they would destroy this alien filth. Then the Devastator ship fired its laser punctured straight through the hull. The entire ship shook heavily as the light started flickering and emergency lights lit up. The bridge itself was chaos as some crewman had been thrown out of their chairs and some had been knocked unconscious.

" Give me a status report!"

" Sir, the outer hull has taken heavy damage. Fires on decks 1 and 3 and loss of air on deck 2 and 4. What are your orders?"

" Remain on course and keep firing! We will destroy this alien fil--

Another laser hit it's mark making the ship shriek as the entire hull started to break under the stress. The bridge itself had lost main light and switched to red emergency lights. Theodore looked around the chaos in shock. He saw his navigator rolling on the ground screaming in pain his face covered in glass shards. His eyes were nothing but red pools and his body started to visibly shake. His other crewman were either unconscious, panicking or simply petrified. They all knew what was coming. They all knew what grizzly end they were about to face.

" Sir we have damage through all decks and or reactor is going critical ! What are your orders! "

The captain looked on in utter silence. He knew it was over. He looked at his bridge and sighed. He then stood up and said with a sad smile.

"men !Today we find out what doing our duty really means!"

Then another explosion rocked the ship and the ceiling caved in. And everything turned black.

---

present day

As Theodore thought about this, he heard a voice coming in over the intercom. It was the chief engineer. Most of it he couldn't make heads or tails with. but one thing made sense. Either they would have to loose combat abilities or the Destiny would and since the big scary alien vessel could shoot a ship in half Theodore knew exactly what he wanted. Screw the Destiney and save the ship that was running at full capacity. He quickly opened a private line with the chief and said.

" Chief, in all goddam honesty id rather have weapons at hand than being target practice for a ship that can cut an ark i half !"

It had only been 5 or 10 minutes since Melanie was escorted back to her room before the emergency alarm went off, startling the poor woman out of her half-asleep state. Annoyed, she sat up on her bed with a groan, looking around to gauge whether she was in any immediate danger. But her peace of mind was soon reaffirmed when a message was relayed that non-essential personnel, such as herself, remain in their rooms. Maybe she didn't have to call Lydia in a little while after all.

beep beep...beep beep...beep--

Or not.

"Melanie speaking."

"Dr. Larson, it's Lydia again. I really need your help, please."

The woman sounded frantic as all hell, although given their lockdown status, who could blame her. She was already a mess to begin with. "Yeah of course, what's wrong?"

"It's Jeff. He was called up for work. Now I'm worried. Can you come see me?"

"Lydia, I'm not really sure. I mean, we're on lockdown and all..." Of course, Melanie wasn't going to tell her how she had been confined to her room just not too long ago.

"But my anxiety's getting worse by the minute. I'm starting to feel nauseated and I--"

"Hey, don't worry about it, I'll see what I can do. Just try to relax for now, okay? Practice those techniques we've gone over."

"Okay, I will. Thank you."

Melanie ended the line, then proceeded to contact the security department to hopefully get some sort of clearance in order to be able to do her job. Unfortunately for her, her request to leave her room and go see Lydia was denied. Had the ship-wide lockdown not occurred, then they would have made an exception for her to go see her patient, but the fact that the bridge had assigned a high security threat meant there could be no exceptions, and Chief TreVayne and his agents would be enforcing that order to its full extent.

Melanie paced back and forth in her room debating whether she should go out anyway. What she hated most about anyone with a different profession was the fact that they underestimated hers. Just because her patients weren't cut open and bleeding didn't mean that they were perfectly healthy. It was hard to get that message across, that mental illness should be taken seriously. But it was next to impossible to change hundreds of years of that same mindset, and it wasn't worth the trouble now.

"Screw this."

She grabbed some of her belongings before rushing out of her room. It would take her maybe 15-20 minutes to reach Lydia's room on foot, but she had to take a detour to her office so it would take her longer. With all the walking around she was about to do, Melanie could only hope that she wasn't caught before reaching her destination.

William was already relaying the data up on the screen on hologram on front of him, they themselves could get to the Eye on sublight while the fighters would only be nipping their tails. A judgement call had to be made, it wasn't one he wasn't going to like but it was one he was going to have to do. "Helm, keep present course. Take manual control. NOAH, begin FTL calculations for a single jump out of the Sol system." He turned back to the table as he spoke directly into his earpiece this time. "I commend your initiative chief but we have protocols for this, it's far too risky having them do a stutter to blow out their drives. They do that and once they're through the eye they've lost their only method of FTL travel. I advise you leave Noah to his calculations, I'm sure with this being the first battle scenario the ship has encountered that there will be plenty of systems that require your attention."

He turned back to, what was now, a battle map. Keying in he bypassed the standard process of going through a comms officer and straight into a battlenet that linked all the Arks within range. "This is Admiral William Locke of the Vitae. Under command authorization Alpha-Zeta-Three-One-Four-Gamma I am initiating the Exodus Protocol. All other Arks should begin jumping away to safe co-ordinates. I am continuing course but will have the protocols primed if and when it is no longer a viable option." He sighed. "Good luck to you all." He didn't get a reply, but then he wasn't expecting one.

---

"Exodus protcol is the last thing any of you want to be initiating." Constantine stood on front of the twelve Admirals, the leaders of tomorrow. "This is why we've drilled it so many times, and we'll likely go over it again before the Arks launch. Exodus Protocol is to be initiated in the event that the Devastators make a move to intercept Arks, or pursue them. If this protocol is initiated all Arks, minus any that can make it to the eye before intercept, will jump to emergency co-ordinates and then begin the journey into deep space using only their jump drives-"

---

The main concern was the fleet of fighters coming at them, missiles still streamed from the Vitae attempting to help stem the tide of vessels headed toward the Destiny but the truth was the sheer volume of fighters was incredible. As their own fighters moved to engage the swarm the blue dots were engulfed in red, not that they were destroyed it was just hard to see their transmissions among all the enemy fighters. Though it wasn't long until they flew back out of the swarm towards the Destiny. Rapid recall, the Destiny was jumping out which meant William had little time to prepare to become the main focus of attention. Which meant he had some calls to make. "Comms."

"Yes sir."

"Relay all messages to their respective locations, have our resident Xenobiologist report to a station where she can get a good scan on these fighters. If they follow Devastators standard operations they're organic, if there's a weakness I want to know it. Tell Ford down in the archives to cut real time transmissions to the outside from public viewing, though keep recording it but with the military encryption key we gave him. Once he's done that I want all we know about the Devastators gathered from the Archives and relayed to my personal quarters with copies available to Mr.Karlson and Dr.Anderson. They're going to need it if they're going to work on being consultants. Though we'll work on that more later. Inform Security and have them ready all disaster bunkers for intake, if we need to give the command to get to the life boats they need to be ready." He turned to Colonel Anderson. "Once you're at full burn cut engines to save power, we may need to maneuver suddenly. Just keep us lined up to dock with the Eye. Don't worry about what's behind us, that's someone elses job."

With that he typed a code into his panel relaying his comm system through to Calhound. "Chief, I need you to swing by the hangar bay. If possible I need you to have fighters deploy as many missiles as possible in something that resembles a mine field. You have authority to launch additional fighters if necessary however they need to be docked well before the enemy reaches weapon range." He looked up at the hologram as the Destiny disappeared, the ships closest to it's hull were pulled inwards by the displacement, several of them crashing into eachother and exploding. It didn't make a massive difference but every little helped at the end of the day. Though this meant one thing, the focus was on the Vitae now. Which was possibly the only Ark left in the system, with readings from the surface of Earth being unreliable at best and downright depressing at worst.

"You have four minutes Chief, after that I need all but the two squadrons that are already out there back in their racks as this is going to be a close one." He hit the comm channel closing it. "Weapons!"

"Sir?"

"Once weapon systems have a targeting solutions ready and locked in, as soon as they have a lock they are cleared to engage. Tell them to aim for centre mass, to try and keep the majority of fighters from getting too close." The ship shook lightly as the weapon fire commenced, everyone busying themselves with their duties. They'd make it out of this yet, on the bright side for the Vitaes first flight she was getting one hell of a stress test.

_{"Come on baby, you've got this."} William couldn't help but mutter under his breath, they were so close. There wasn't any giving up now, the plans were made. Now all he could do was watch for any new variables, he wasn't going to be caught off guard again. They couldn't use the same trick twice against him, now he knew what to expect.

After the response from the bridge, Sergent Calhound reported back a simple "Acknowledged, Captain" in a tone more befitting that of NO4H than a human being. With the comm's closed, he turned to NO4H directly, "Confirm the admiral's countermanding order, and note the time in the Engineering log."

"Orders confirmed, and a log entry has been made at the request of Chief Engineer Calhound." Noah recited, as he returned to normal operating procedures, including whatever else the Admiral had planned. Xaith then stepped back into the main hall, and gave a final order to the computer to reseal the hatch before opening a line of communication to Main Engineering.

"Rorq!" He shouted into his comm device, "Noah is back online. Pull the team from manual operations—pull the whole damn section—and get them started on analyzing every scrap of data we're getting from sensors." In his voice was the urgency that reflected also in the pace of his run, "I want to know everything about that ship. From mass-density, local gravametric distortions, and energy wake, to the chemical composition of debris, and resonance frequency of the hull, right down to the sound it'd make if bounced a goddamn ping-pong ball off of it."

He was, initially, running to Engineering but new orders relayed from the bridge changed his path, and the direction of his orders. "Forward a copy of the information and your own analysis to my quarters."

"Quarters, sir?" Lt. Rorq asked right before the line to Engineering was cut, and Xaith made a new call.

"Engineering to Calhound," Xaith said, using the self-call exploit his call was routed to his quarters. He simply said: "Adjutant online" before replying to the Admiral's orders to fighter control. "In and out, Captain, I read you."

---

The fighter bay was a massive, and open space. When Xaith arrived the CAG officer met him already briefed on the situation. Both being career men the Commander of the Air Group, and the Sargent First Class wasted little time sizing each other up. After which Xaith got that look. The one he got from Lt. Rorq, and all the other officers see for the first time that an Enlisted man has a position of actual power, without being an officer. "Four minutes is not a lot of time, Sargent." The CAG officer offered as they made haste to fighter control. "If you know something I don't then now would be the time to share."

"Try holding your breath, sir," Xaith offered to one of the highest ranking officers on the ship. "Two minutes is a lifetime, when you're holding your breath, and four is an eternity." he clarified the reference to the relativistic nature of time, as his EEGARD drew up a slew of schematics regarding devices already on hand. His mind raced as he ripped through each one for relevant details, "Ordinance," he ordered both to the CAG officer as well as to his own device. The Commander frowned, and Xaith paused to address the awkwardness of the situation, "We don't have time for politics, sir, and I don't stand on formalities. I'm not here to run your shit, but I—we have a job to do. If you don't like how I consult, then file a complaint with the admiral when we're done and safely still alive."

The Commander of the Air Group, a man of action not prone to hesitation, was quick with his response. "I'll do just that, Sargent. In the mean-time you do not give orders. You provide your expertise, and I give the orders." Xaith acknowledged with a dismissive gesture as to indicate 'yes, sir, whatever you say sir' as to bring the pissing match to a close. Each moment they spent hosing down the deck was a second he was distracted, and was therefore wasted.

"The Grave Robbers and the Barracudas are out there with twenty Serpent missiles and two Trebuchets each," explained the CAG Officer, as using whats already available may be vital to forming any kind of plan, "The Vitae has a number of weapons on-board but not nearly so many mines, or mine-layers to put a grid in place so quickly."

The Chief Engineer's eyes scanned the complete list of ordinance available for launch, from his EEGARD, while scanning what other systems he had access to from the console. "Bring them back," he said to the CAG officer.

"Sargent, we just went over this. You're not authorized to recall them."

Xaith shook his head, "I didn't say to the hanger," he corrected as he swiped through some holograms, "Bring them to the ship." The holographic image displayed his plan as he searched for ordinance to implement with it.

The CAG officer inspected the hologram, as it dawned on him what he was looking at, Xaith called up the shield control subsystems to see what their reaction delay was. "The skill alone required..." to which Calhound interrupted with a shrug, and countered with a dismissive: "I assumed you had the best of the best out there, which is good, because anything less will not work."

"Will it though?" the commander questioned Xaith, "Wouldn't such a maneuver ordinarily requires shields?"

After finding what he was looking for, Xaith shook his head, "No. We'll swap out the the T-47's missile pods with electronic warfare modules to engage while making their runs." he zoomed in on the hologram to show that a non-guided electronic attack would be too weak to affect the ark directly, but would produce a similar polarization effect on the hull. "The problem is, the escorts can't fly too close to that field without being effected."

Putting ECM on an escort fighter was not a plan anyone liked, but with the CAG officer's permission, Xaith put a call out to the Grave Robbers and the Barracuda's wing commanders to explain the situation. "This is Chief Engineer Xaith Calhound consulting for your CAG officer. I need you to do something for me while you're out there..." Xaith paused as he transmitted some flight plans, "I need you escort some T-47s as they skim the hull of this ship with ECM pods. From stem to stern, and aft to bow. They will do so in a manner that creates long, uninterrupted, non-crossing lines of contact."

He turned back to the CAG officer with a list of supplies. "If we pull all the orbital attack ordinance we can from our Reaper Cruiser, and load them into two squads of those fighters, we can do it all in one run. The distributed ordinance will stick to the parts of our polarized hull, and since they're designed to still function in a heavily ionized atmosphere, the electronic countermeasures pods shouldn't have an effect on them."

"How does that make a mine-field?" The CAG officer asked as he motioned to his next two top squad leaders to prep for launch.

"It doesn't," Xaith admitted, "Not in the traditional sense, but the force of our acceleration to Pre-Jump will distribute the materials like a mine-field. Until then they'll be completely masked by our mass, and our hull polarization. When we go to make our jump, they'll dislodge and we'll cycle the shield's frequency which will repel and active the ordinance." Xaith made sideways jazz-hands to symbolize the ripple in the electromagnetic spectrum. "They'll be armed, and think they're falling through an atmosphere, and won't explode until either they hit something, or their internal timers tell them too."

Xaith clarified as he pointed to the shield modulation metrics, and programmed a response into the space-to-ground bombs. "Additionally, they'll aid in scattering our wake, making it difficult—if not impossible—to track us from our initial position. It's the best we can do with the three minutes we have remaining. It also leaves our ship-to-ship ordinance free for our fighters discretionary application to the incoming hostiles."

"Lt. Hawkins," the CAG officer shouted into the line that had been open since Xaith initially called the squad, "Make it happen."

The Comms officer turned to respond to Erik's arrival. "About bloody time you showed up." he said, a thick Scottish accent layering his voice. Erik wondered how such a strong accent had survived the nuclear holocaust Europe had endured. "The Admiral ordered you up here because these Devastators hailed us or something. I assume you're the kind of guy who can figure this out?" the officer asked, raising an eyebrow.

Erik's eyes lit up. "Ja, I can try to understand the communication. Do you have naushniki?" The officer stared at him blankly. "Ah, I'm sorry rebenok, I must've slipped into Russian. Headphones, lad." The officer nodded, confused by the authority this man somehow projected, despite the Comms Officer's years of service. He grabbed a pair of headphones from a drawer, and handed them to Erik. Erik plugged them in, and asked the officer to run the message.

Erik frowned as the sounds started. He was certain he could tell the pattern, but he had no reference material to go on. And then, suddenly, there was. The message played a series of recorded human voices, incoherently arranged, followed by an alien chittering. Erik threw open his notebook and began scribbling furiously. The Comms Officer watched in confusion. The human voices spoke myriad languages, and Erik didn't even attempt to discern the Mandarin or Hindi. He just wrote down what they sounded like, he would translate later.

The series of words ran out, and Erik was left with only a few he could recognize. He played the first message again, and then the second. After three more plays, he wrote out what he could from the message, and stood up, ecstatic. "Færdig!" he shouted. He handed the note to the Comms Officer. The page read: ".....hunger...s-....awareness.....on the..." Erik looked at the officer triumphantly. "The dots are places where I couldn't decipher it, but if I could have a copy of the recording, I'm sure I could have more for you soon. I need to translate the human words I didn't know, and I'll need to listen to the message in further depth."

The Officer nodded, frowning at the rather scant message. "I'll have NO4H give you permission to access the recording. You might want to head down to the Archives when this is over to get those translations, NO4H is pretty slow at Hindi." Erik nodded.

"Thank you Officer. I'll let you know when I find any more." Erik replied. Then, he went back the way he had come. His work was not done yet.

[ Security Central | Communications & Dispatch ]
[ Post-Launch | Ark-wide Alert Status ]

“...Devastators...and all hell's breaking loose because of it…”

”...this ship is a sitting duck…”

“...we’re not soldiers for god’s sake…”

Gavon caught fragments of the circulating comments within the room, but enough to get the overall mood that fell on the hearts and minds of the many serving under him. Even amongst the incessant chatter throughout Security Central’s main communications and dispatch room, offline whispers to nearby co-workers didn’t seem to help an already dire situation, but left a heavy mist of doubt that could be cut with a knife. The Chief felt an obligation, even moreso now, to ensure his team that as long as protocol was followed and everyone did as instructed, then the process should run smoothly and efficiently. But, to him, it sounded too damn standard textbook, and at the height of current tensions within the ranks, would seem more likely he was just telling them what they wanted to hear.

Gavon quickly glanced over at Natalie, who was busily working at a terminal with NO4H to keep tabs on network infrastructure and firewall integrity. She’d always been a much better poster child for the position of “morale officer”, and even in her days as squad leader for planetside “relief convoy” security, she had a way with words that seemed to instill courage in the meekest of soldiers. But the focus of his speech at that moment wasn’t so much on the field Agents as it was on his comms & dispatch team within the very heart of SecCen, the essential lifeblood of the operation, as their meddle would be tested and retested each day.

“Just get it over with” He finally mumbled to himself, before switching off his headset to address the room.

“Listen up folks, I’m going to keep this brief and to the point...” The room volume lowered slightly, although a few were still in communication with Agents, but kept their voices to a dull roar.

“You all knew this was coming. Maybe not when and where, but you knew nevertheless. Although now is the time to put away the fears and doubts that have surfaced for no other reason than our minds deciding to fuck with us, and plant seeds of discouragement. You guys are better than that! And shit isn’t over until the last of those damned alien assholes have been vaporized.”

A few cheered and clapped, but quickly silenced realizing the Chief wasn’t finished.

“But out there in space…” Gavon motions his hand toward a monitor showing the events unfolding. “That’s not our job right now. Our job is to protect and serve the crew and our Agents within this metal beast. So cut the bullshit, and get your head in the game!”

There was a brief pause, until the comms team leader yelled out from the corner seat. “Now you slackers can clap!”

A resounding applause washed through the room, and Natalie, with a big grin on her face, shot her husband a reassuring wink before redirecting her attention to work.

“Alright!” The Chief concluded. “Let’s finish what we started.”

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

The Ark’s internal defense measures were coming together as previously planned, most of which every Agent had trained for months in advance. The Vitae was large enough that every nook and cranny of a ship her size had to be covered -level by level- through schematic reviews, tours, drills, and various other repetitious training to ensure the Agents guiding and protecting citizens knew where they were going, and the quickest most efficient paths to take on foot in the event of transit system malfunctions. Being boarded was, of course, a possibility if the enemy decided it worth the risk, so all entry points known (and a few concealed) were covered by patrols as well as proximity alarms interfaced with NO4H, which were programmed to scan for possible hull breaches as well as any non-human presence.

The hope is, if a breach occurred, the ship would be on Ark-wide alert well in advance and additional armed Agents could be deployed to breach points, facing an unknown enemy few soldiers could mentally prepare for.

If outside factors weren’t enough, the larger problem was civil unrest, as various levels reported riots breaking out and mobs of people who were more concerned with their own lives than their neighbors. Heavily armored suppression teams were sent in to break up the larger groups of rioters, pushing them back and away from direct traffic of civilians being ushered to their quarters or safer areas.

“Chief, per your earlier request, Disaster Bunker preparations in Cryo, Archives, and Eden are being made and associated lead personnel have been notified.”

“Perfect, alert me when they've checked in.”

There was an uneasiness when anything related to a “disaster” was the topic of discussion, even moreso when those shelters were situated within vital areas of the ship and susceptible to unauthorized civilian activity. Despite safety and security measures put in place, however, there's always a chance for property damage, but it's a small price to pay when lives are at stake.

“Sir, we have an urgent request from Doctor Melanie Larson asking approval for an emergency visitation to a patient on Level 16, Sector 12.”

“The same ‘Larson’ involved with the dispute at the The Siren’s Call pub earlier today?”

“Affirmative.”

“Denied.” Gavon said flatly. “We have too much erratic activity out in the main corridors and I don't need a hyped-up shrink roaming around the ship. I'm sure her ‘patient’ can wait until we've jumped the hell out of this meat grinder.”

“Copy that Chief, I'll advise her immediately.”

TreVayne turned to the holo-table behind him currently showing a breakdown of the Vitae section-by-section, and reviewed the current evac progress throughout all non-essential zones, as well as Agent positioning and equal distribution. Even though him and his team’s primary focus and resources were on the ship’s internal protection, he couldn’t help but wonder just what the hell was really going on outside of the metal walls. Sure, it was easy enough to call up a detailed report and visual of the fighter squadron’s actions as it played it out, but what good would that serve?

9.75N/kg

A bird's eye view, so to speak, of the power core of the Vitae was eerily similar to that of the inner chamber of an ant hill. The flows of fuel, electrical power, coolant and information were all neatly stacked in concentric loops around the core by collective years of brilliant engineering, and on top of it all was the flow of people. Tiny dots, clad in the colors of their respective duty or training, busied themselves around epicenters of manual control or moved from one to another, in and out of the huge hangar. Like blood cells in a very complex heart, to use the chief engineer's favorite metaphor, but in a broader sense. Even with the core and the rest of the ship's systems having double and triple contingency mechanisms, humans were the last failsafe. Or perhaps the first?

But unlike blood cells, not all of the engineering corps were the same. Some would stare at a gauge for hours and call out at any deviation, unsure of their next action but absolutely positive of the time it should be taken at. Some teams worked like an organism by itself, while some were only the arms and legs of their team leader. It was all a vast, dynamic dance of clashing rhythms, man versus machine or man with machine together.

It was all a perfect time to have a nervous breakdown.

9.751N/kg

There was a simpler time, before. A time when all objectives were clear, when the main challenge had a name and a proverbial face. Before the farce that was Project Genesis. Before humanity has collectively given up, like a pitiful kind of sea cucumber that sacrifices 90% of its body to avoid a predator, while completely missing the irony of it all. Before that, there were people who actually wanted to win, to use whatever percent of their body and booby-trap it to make the predator choke on their own innards.

The reactor's power diversion mechanisms were prepped for quick transfers and abrupt rebalancing. It was a strenuous, delicate process that took over half of the on-duty engineering team to supervise and manage. Despite the ship AI's ever-watchful eye, no engineer in their right mind would let a machine decide for itself whether it is healthy. And rightfully so - some of the automated coupling relays were slightly damaged from the liftoff, which was only slightly more violent than planned, and of course there was no time for maintenance before the excrement collided with the ventilator and the Vitae entered high alert. No rest for the wicked and all. This was a great chance to thank whoever thought it was a good idea to put actual people in engineering.

9.788N/kg

A lone technician was leaning against the wall near an out-of-the-way terminal of one of the coolant conductor channels. They were clad in a standard-issue full body hazmat suit meant to dealt with the dangers of handling coolant. Even under the suit, they were visibly shivering, a wrench clenched in their gloved hands like a drowning man's lifeline. A colorful chart from an adjacent monitor flashed at their full-face mask, the readings indicating a gradual increase in pressure that would require manual handling to prevent damage to the conductor pipes. That section of the power core bay was largely empty since one of the more talented technicians managed to tap into the security feed and get a picture of the battle outside the ship, and of course most of the staff huddled around him. They knew it was a matter of seconds before Noah detects this and cuts them off, so every moment counted. Various slurs along the lines of 'Fuck' were dominating verbal communication.

"You!" a bark made the helmeted technician turn. "What the hell are you doing? Can't you see the gauges?!" An officer rushed towards the monitor, half a second before the gauge spiked into the red zone. There was a painful creak and a high-pitched hiss that followed, known as the "devil's song" by the coolant section. But the barking officer found herself on her back, behind an adjacent pipe. The hiss died down a moment later, and she raised her head to find an apprehensive technician from a different section pushing a button on the monitor with a long tool from a safe spot, while the hazmat seemed to... cover the coolant leak with their body?

"Who - Who the hell are you?" acting chief engineer, Lt. Rorq, couldn't decide what she was seeing. The protective hazmat suit had a gaping hole in the middle, where the coolant steam hit the technician that blocked it with their body. Steaming fluid leaked down a metallic armor that wasn't in any standard issue package she knew of. The still helmeted figure stumbled backwards and sat against the slightly fractured pipe.

"The gravity here is wrong."

"What?"

A black clawed hand with the remains of a glove attached reached up and removed the cyllindrical helmet. The most heavily augmented face in the entirety of the Vitae's staff looked back at the officer. "Specialist Mai Irons, Coolant Section, Ma'am." On top of her heavy accent, the woman's voice sounded as if coming from a long metal pipe. "Sorry, still getting used to being in space."

A wrench was laying near the specialist's feet. It was crooked and indented with finger marks.