"I know we're supposed to be all inspired and stuff but all I can think about right now is how terrified I am." said Clara as she put a hand to her stomach as though that would ease the nauseous feeling in her gut.
"We're all kind of terrified." Amara replied, trying to comfort her friend.
"You don't look terrified." countered Clara with an accusatory but playful expression.
Amara took Clara's hand in her own and squeezed softly as she gave her a gentle smile and said "Well that's because I'm dead inside."
There was a brief silence before Clara made a slight snorting sound then laughed quietly which made Amara do the same.

Amara knew that the stupid joke would cheer her friend up. Clara had managed to get some of her family aboard the Vitae in stasis but there were still so many people being left behind. So many people that were doomed to die. Clara had always been so emotional. She was a stark contrast to the often stoic Amara. People often commented on how different the friends were. Some people had recently remarked on how unemotional Amara was about the fact that they were about to leave the Sol system and everyone they cared about behind. It wasn't really that she didn't care. She cared a great deal. She just didn't show it. But Amara rarely let what other people said about her get her down. In fact she often embraced it and used it, like she had just done with Clara. Sure, she had brought a box of chocolates to help cheer Clara up too but self-deprecating humor worked too. It would probably last longer than the chocolate too. Lord knows how long the Vitae's supply of chocolate would last anyway. With that thought, she popped another chocolate in her mouth and playfully shoved one at Clara's face too.

The Admiral's pre-launch speech had just ended and everyone was scurrying around to their assigned stations or heading to their cabins. Amara and Clara were currently on a rooftop of a building in the hub, waiting to spring into action if they got a call. Any new ship launch inevitably brought problems. Be it malfunctioning machines causing injuries or just people adjusting to life on a ship. People always underestimated the effect moving from planetary gravity to artificial gravity could have on the human body. The medical staff, which included Amara and Clara, were on standby in case they were needed. Since most of the civilian population lived around the hub, it made sense to be here where they could keep a personal eye on people. Amara peered over the edge to watch the people below as Clara said "You know as terrified as I am right now, I can only imagine what must be going through your old man's head."

Amara felt a slight lump in her throat form as she thought about that but refused to turn and look at her friend in case she gave away her emotions. "He'll be fine." she said, still looking down at the people. "He's a big boy." Despite her words, Amara knew that she wanted nothing more than to be with her dad right now. But she knew that would be entirely for her own benefit. He didn't need her and she was needed elsewhere.

Something caught Amara's eye then. Or rather, someone. She vaguely heard Clara say something but wasn't paying enough attention to realise what it was. She gave a slight "Mmmmhmmm" by way of response as she pulled the goggles up from around her neck and placed them over her eyes. She zoomed in on chief TreVayne as he passed below, rushing to his station. She watched him go by until he was out of her sight, at which point she heard Clara say "You know he's married, right?"
"I wasn't--" Amara began as she looked up at Clara but stopped when she realised she had forgotten to take her goggles off and she could see the pores on her friends face. After pulling them back down around her neck, she began again "I was just checking to make sure he was okay." She looked away and then quickly looked back as she added. "He's fine."
"If you say so." replied Clara with a smirk.
Amara started to turn a slight shade of red and she had to look away again. She put her goggles back on and once again looked down at the people below as she told Clara "Shut up."
Clara only smiled.

"Are you two ladies finished braiding each others hair?" A third voice spoke up through their earpieces. Both women recognised the voice as Deacon Maron, whose voice was low and grumbling thanks to his horrible smoking habit. Deacon was essentially a controller for the medics of the ark. While the A.I NO4H had eyes everywhere, the controllers had access to nearly as many. When NO4H became aware of a possible injury that needed emergency treatment, he would alert a controller, who would in turn alert a medic. Apparently one of the higher-ups in the chain of command didn't entirely trust an artificial intelligence to make a call on whether or not humans needed medical attention. That was why people like Deacon existed.

Amara rolled her eyes at Deacon's comment and as she removed her goggles once again, she scanned around to find the camera he was watching them through. Once she spotted it, she remarked directly at it in a sarcastic tone "Yes, Deacon. We're about to move on to the pillow fight."
Deacon sat forward in his chair and smirked at Amara's comment as he watched her on his monitor. "Oh, well don't let me stop you." he commented.
Amara's only response to that was to hoist her middle finger up and direct it at the camera. Clara leaned over her shoulder and did the same thing. Deacon may have been a pig at times but he was still one of Amara's closest friends. And that was just a horrifying indication of the state of her social circle. "I assume you have a job for us." she said with a sigh.
"Out of respect for you both and also because your old man scares me, I'm going to overlook an obvious joke and just say yes." remarked Deacon. "Sending you the coordinates now."
The data pads on both Amara and Clara's wrists lit up with information on the patient and their location. "We're on it." Amara replied before turning and heading towards the ladder which would take them back down from their rooftop perch.
"Hey, can I drive the bus?" asked Clara.
Amara replied "Not after what happened last time."

---

Amara and Clara dealt with their first patient quickly, the motion sick guard had been puking his guts up but a couple of pills and some re hydration fixed the main problem. He would have a rough time aboard the Vitae if he was throwing up whenever it moved but hopefully he would get over it and not need constant medication. Clara felt bad for the guy but Amara only felt bad for the maintenance crew that had to clean up after him.

With a little bit of time to spare afterwards, they sat in their ambulance and watched the footage of the Earth being left behind on Clara's datapad. Not a word was spoken throughout it but Clara sobbed gently, eventually resting her head on Amara's shoulder for comfort. Amara herself had no emotional attachment to this planet but she loved Mars. She loved its people. And they would soon be gone. Just like Earth. It was really only then that the enormity of the situation hit her and she fought to hold back her own tears. Both women sat in silence as they watched the planet pull away from them.

---

Their next stop was to a bar nearby where some woman had apparently attacked a couple. Amara was almost thankful that she had as it gave both herself and Clara a reason to stop watching the footage of Earth. To stop thinking about things they really didn't want to think about. Upon arriving at the scene, Amara was surprised to see that the attacker was someone she actually recognised. While she and Doctor Larson had never actually met, she was aware of the other woman through reputation. It was surprising to see someone of her standing assaulting someone. Apparently the stress of the day was getting to everyone.

Amara and Clara treated the couples wounds as best they could but Amara insisted on taking the man to the nearest med bay for further tests. After hearing that his head had been rammed into the bar, she couldn't entirely rule out the possibility if a concussion and felt it was better to play it safe. So all four squeezed into the ambulance and were soon on their way to the med bay. And apparently just in time. As all hell broke loose then.

Alarms sounded throughout the entire ship. Lights flashed and people screamed. Everyone was already on edge before this and the now many of them had just been tipped over that edge. Panic started to set in for many. Amara, after a brief moment, collected herself and tapped her earpiece. "Deacon" What's happening?" she demanded, knowing that he was in the loop.
"Only bad things, princess!" came back the response as Deacon yelled over the sound of the alarms. Deacon then opened the channel to everyone that needed to hear him as he said "All medical staff get to your stations and standby! There's a whole world of hurt about to head our way!"

---

Loretta closed an eye and took a deep breath as the alarm began blaring. She had grown up in space, on a ship. Unlike most of these dirt dwellers she was used to this situation, so after composing herself she simply stood up from where she sat eating her meal and began walking back to Cryogenics. Naturally it was a reasonable walk but the public transportation system was still functional, it was a simple case of hoping onto one of the units scanning her ID card and having it take her to her destination. The bonus of it being an Emergency is near nobody else was leaving the hub, everyone was coming to it. Which gave her a quiet ride amid all the chaos. She wasn't fond of how panicked dirt dwellers got in situations like this, while some of her own people did tend to get worried in combat situations (as they rightly should) they rarely got as violent as dirt dwellers, saying that Martians typically managed to compose themselves but that was probably because they were all indoctrinated fools.

She brushed her way past several people leaving cryo, likely people who had been trying to get to see their loved ones in person before the crisis status was called. Not that there was much difference in actually coming all the way down to cryo and what they were givne the opportunity to view from their quarters. They said it felt different, but in the end the person in the pod was still frozen in stasis and the person outside was still hanging onto the past rather than thinking about the future. These people were their future, hopefully there'd be a future for some of the dirt dwellers on some far off planet as well. As much as she felt that a space station would have been the best course of action she couldn't deny with this ships crew and those in stasis a planet was the best course of action for long term viability. She just hoped that if she was alive to see that day that she'd be allowed to remain on the ship, after all what were they going to do with it when that time came? It came with prefabricated structures for housing so it's not like they'd tear it apart nor have need to. More likely it'd become the center of whatever civilization formed. Even a ship on dirt was a better thought to her than actually living on dirt.

She turned to the nearest tech. "Give me a status update."

"We're experiencing a combat alert, we've not been told much other than we should prepare the vault to act as a disaster bunker." She audibly groaned, she hated the idea of bringing people into the cryobay during an emergency. Yes keep essential personnel in the bay, seal it off so that it would survive if the ship exploded. Though throwing people who are unqualified to work in the bay into the mix and that just causes trouble. No doubt if the situation were to escalate to that point there'd be people trying to open pods or see loved ones and it would just be a mess. Though at the end of the day, these were her orders from her Captain.

"Seal down the pods, full security lockdown. I want to make sure that if people are running around in here that they're not going to wake anyone up or anything stupid. Have all the recovery bays stocked ready to offer medical assistance in the event that someone comes in here injured and prepare to seal the vault doors the second the orders are given."

"Yes Ma'am."

Ma'am. She hated working with military types.

Once she arrived at her office after actively avoiding any agents who may attempt to intercept her, Melanie grabbed her tablet off of her desk. Usually, whenever she sees a patient, Melanie likes to update their electronic data and hard-copy file simultaneously, but today was an exception. If she were to carry everything she had on Lydia to her room for their meeting, then she might as well take the rest of the office over there as well.

A minute later, Melanie stepped out again. She picked up the pace a bit as Lydia's panic attacks usually worsened by the minute. The poor woman just couldn't catch a break, and their voyage was just barely getting started.

...what in the hell?

Melanie rushed towards her patient, who was now apparently very interested in a protest possibly sparked by the ship's current state of emergency.

"Hey, listen, I know that superficially this may feel like it's what you need, but you and I both know you can do better." Melanie placed her free hand on Lydia's back to guide her away from the crowd. She wanted to keep the woman safe, but she also wanted to keep herself safe...and out of trouble. "These incidents are gonna happen, so it's not a matter of if but rather, when. Believe me, there's not a single person in this ship that's glad about this mess, but the only thing we can do is work together to move forward as we try our very best to learn from our past."

Lydia nodded her head in agreement, but didn't contribute anything further to their conversation.

"What do you say we go back to my office? It's just around the corner and it's also closer to Jeff's station. You may even be able to see him as soon as we're done."

"That'd be nice," she said with an attempted smile. Melanie knew that mentioning Lydia's husband would cheer her up a little bit as he was one of the main focus points during their sessions. It was a strategy that worked, and for her patient's sake, she hoped that nothing would happen to the man.

DEPLOYMENT

The warning screamed across Sara's eyes for a second as she noted the pair of T-47s deploying from the Vitae. The Nighthawks, 11th Squadron were a squadron of primarily scout pilots- though quite capable in strike fighters as well, as they all were, they specialized with the scout-ships, whereas folks like Sara specialized in fighters. Sara personally disliked flying the delicate, temperamental T-47. Sure, having all that tech was nice, but it felt like flying a china vase through a hailstorm. Much to her dismay, these ships weren't even armed with missiles, but rather, sported ECM pods.

Plans from Sgt. Calhound, involved the T-47s skimming the hull of the ship with these ECM pods whilst the Barracudas and Grave Robbers babysat them. A plan that Sara wasn't too keen on- especially with the enemy closing in on them, and with the fact that there were so few of them. With a reluctant growl, Sara keyed her comms and confirmed.

"Roger that, Grave Robbers ready for baby-sitting duty."

They had a scant few minutes before the Devastators were upon them, and why the CAG thought it was a good idea to run electromagnets over the hull, but orders were orders and Sara wasn't too keen on getting court martialed after her first sortie. The T-47s began their runs over the Vitae's hull, over the close watch of the Barracudas and Grave Robbers. They had no visual confirmation that whatever they were doing was working, so they'd just have to put faith on Chief Calhound's plan and hope it didn't bite them in the ass. Sara kept a sharp eye on her radar, making sure that the Devastators didn't get too close to them- if they got too close for comfort, Sara and the rest of her command would engage the Devastators- Calhound's orders be damned.

"I don't like this Twitch." Called Setter, the squadron leader for Barracudas, over the comms. He wasn't too keen on the idea of babysitting instead of engaging either.

"None of us are. Lets just feel it out." Sara replied over the open comms. Opening a private channel with Setter via her Smart-Vision, she relayed different opinions.

We've got no more than a few minutes before the Devastators are on us, we'll keep the squadrons towards the tail end of the Vitae- Once those Devastators hit the 10km range marker, we engage and we send them all to hell.

Roger that.

“Status report”

Gavon cycled through various three-dimensional views of the Vitae’’s layout, level-by-level, highlighting certain areas that were still being red flagged as “medium alert hostility” zones.

“Sir, Agents on most floors have checked in with a green light, as crowds began to disperse and head to their respective quarters or designated safe zones.”

The young Dispatcher, no more than eighteen or nineteen continued keying in a sequence of commands with an eagerness often found in a child looking to prove they have the grit to overcome any obstacles.

“In addition sir, I've interfaced with Noah, and had pathway lights illuminated throughout the Ark, which will help to facilitate crowd control and direction, via visual guidance.”

“Nice work Jaxson.”

The kid grinned from ear to ear as he stared at the multiple monitors directly in front and just above his eye level, making any relevant notes in the security logs. The young lady sitting next to him rolled her eyes at her co-worker’s smug attitude, knowing she had been helping him along for much of the trip thus far as well as throwing suggestions to strengthen his training. But, being she was the more mature of the two, she stayed silent and let the kid have his fifteen minutes of fame.

Chief TreVayne paid special notice to the zones in and around Cryogenics, considering the feedback he’d received from the science staff overseeing that department, as well as their Lead Scientist, Loretta Raidne. Even as Security’s responsibility was to “keep the peace”, pulling people from their time with family and loved ones who were currently frozen in stasis pods had become a point of contention. On a few occasions, the Chief of Security was accused of having no sympathy for these grieving families, but when it came down to life or death decisions, there was no compromising common sense.

Initially, Gavon ensured Doctor Raidne and her staff that there would be minimal interference from his Agents, however, as things rapidly changed and alert status was higher than normal, it was time for those civilians to vacate Cryogenics.

Perhaps a time will come when things will settle down...

9.77N/kg

After re-equipping the slightly singed HAZMAT helmet, the technician allowed her eyes to wander. She shouldn't have ignored the signs; in fact, it was quite surprising that she even managed that. With her post manned pre-launch, she was so distracted by the absolute nonsense spouted by the Admiral that she missed her internal gyroscopes switching her GUI to what seemed to be "outer-space-mode". And when she finally had some time for self-diagnostic, the accelerometer reading hit her like a ton of bricks.

9.67N/kg Average, 0.2N/kg Deviation, Artificial Gravity Detected

This was it. This ship, and whatever other Arks that manage to follow it, are the only remains of humanity. Home was officially abandoned for the predator to bite and gouge. Her shining red eyes re-focused on the acting chief engineer just in time for the woman to finish her tirade and lose interest. As the officer turned her back and went off to police the other teams back to work, she seemed to move away from the pretend-technician to some kind of dark infinity. The walls became transparent as her artificial senses took hold over her attention, and she envisioned herself moving through space, alone and lost. She was suddenly very cold, despite her external temperature reading around 50 degrees celsius, her armor still hot from the malfunction. Her arms crossed in an involuntary motion into a self-hugging gesture, the clawed fingers clinking along the alloyed shoulders.

For a long moment, she was ignored by her coworkers, flying alone in space as they sidled her, too uncomfortable to try and break her trance, too close in their own heads to this breakdown. Finally and abruptly, a mobile welder was pushed against her chest.

"Fix the leak, will you?" Her team leader barked at her, a rough fourty-something-old who smoked so much he was beginning to look like a combustion engine. "We will mourn later over some beers. And get yourself a new suit." He pulled at some loose cloth with a frown before heading off. She stared at the welding torch as if it was a new pet. Purpose. Yes, it was the only thing she could hold on to.

Fix The Leak

Repeating this in her head made the stowaway regain control of her hands. Soon, a blue reflection danced against her visor, bright red eyes pulsating behind it. Purpose.

Karen had been surprised upon receiving a call from the Bridge. Apparently, they wanted her somewhere she could see the action and observe the Devastators, as well as some sort of advisement. They probably assumed she had any real idea what the Vitae's weapons were capable of. With a frantic energy barely far enough away from panic, Karen's frazzled brain decided to give Michael a hug and incoherent explaination that she was needed before running off towards the edge of Eden. She needed to get to the nearest security station for a proper viewing. It wasn't until she was entering one of said stations that she remembered the display podium in the center of Eden- which had been much closer. Too late to dwell on that now, though.

Immediately Karen began giving orders to the room at large, and its four other inhabitants. It wasn't until a solid two minutes had passed that she realized they were staring at her confused, unaware that she specifically had orders, from the Admiral himself, to watch the enemy. This would explain why they still hadn't pulled up footage, and the three other people were just staring at her.

Deep breath.

The two men seemed to be guards, just in case someone tried to break in and screw with the systems, and the woman part of more technical staff. Karen supposed that's where her words should be directed. "I'm Xenobiologist Karen Anderson, I am under orders from the bridge to observe the Devastators and advise the Admiral on any weaknesses they have. Please pull up the battle footage."

There it was. Comprehensible language, instead of the stream of near-babble she had been saying before. Speaking of which, there was the footage. And a lot of fighters, coupled with some large lasers. Light. Focused light. Karen asked for a pen and paper, and instead received an electronic drawing tablet. Close enough, she figured, while she jotted down information she wanted recorded for later.

Light frequency? source deduce
size of fighters storage
materials?
Central fighter control? Hive mind, AI?
^
How do they communicate? Light, smells? or other molecules (like ants)

if all one organism, how sustained? Maybe superorganism?

Clearly, she needed more concrete data. "Tech... Person, please have the light frequency of the lasers recorded for later. Any data is good data, y'know?"

*ring*

"Hello, this is Dr. Anderson speaking, I'm in the middle of business right now."
". . ."
"Oh, uh... Eden isn't very ready for that many people right now. Some branches fell while exiting the atmosphere, and I'm afraid more might fall during warp. The edges of it should be fine, though, those are totally open."
". . ."
"Yeah, just... Be careful, and don't let anyone into the trees. I'm already worried for the safety of people and what little animal life is in there... ALSO! There's a man in there, upset. Someone should make sure he's okay."
". . ."

*click*

For a niche specialist, Karen was having an excessively exciting day. "Yup," she thought, "definitely a distinct excess of excitement."

Main Engineering was abuzz with the blue-ball busting that was the sea of orders from the acting Chief of Engineering. "Alright people, get back to work! Anyone who can't perform their duties will be reassigned to waste reprocessing." She shouted at the group gathering around a monitor. "You! What the hell are you doing? Can't you see the gauges?!" Lt. Rorq barked at a flow regulation technician. As the pipe burst the lieutenant's frustration overwhelmed her momentarily, "Who - Who the hell are you?" she gasped at the technician's incompetence. The Vitae hadn't even been targeted yet and already the systems were being damaged.

From a managerial standpoint the situation was a complete embarrassment and needed to be reigned in before the Chief of Engineering returned. Now was a time that demanded firm leadership, which included a full dressing down of Specialist Irons. When it became clear that the specialist was ignoring the lieutenant, Rorq ordered Irons out of engineering. "We have a job to do Irons, and intentionally or not, you're actively sabotaging this ship and you will get the hell out of my Engine Room."

From there Lt. Rorq went back about reorganizing the jump drive emergency response teams for the possibility of the jump core being damaged in an impending fire-fight while undergoing the pre-jump sequence, and ensuring such a possible outcome didn't spell the deaths of what was left of humanity. She did so, knowing that Specialist Irons would leave on her own accord, or security would be called to escort her to the brig for the remainder of the engagement.

---

Meanwhile... in the Hanger.

As the last fighter launched from the hanger the Chief of Engineering patted the shoulder of the Commander of the Air Group. A gesture of "well done" that was apparently interpreted as insult, as the CAG Officer shot daggers at the Sargent in retaliation. "The ball is in motion, sir." Xaith said, with general disregard for formalities "I will take my leave." He withdrew his hand from the CAG Officer's shoulder and scratched the back of his head as his EEGARD analyzed the deployment combat HUD.

"That's it?" The Commander asked in a demanding tone, as if there was some confusion about what role Xaith had in events to come.

"Yes," the Sargent First Class replied, and pointed to the heads up display, "I'm the engineering consult, and my job is now done." He shrugged, and picked up his displaced tools. "The situation that is developing requires a battlespace tactician. A situation which I leave in your and your crew's very capable hands." As he made his way to the exit, he noted what his vector analysis told him. "You're soon to have a fight on your hands, sir, and you don't need me getting underfoot for that."

---

As Xaith stepped into the transit system he called down to engineering. "How's it all going down there, Lieutenant?"

To which Rorq immediately responded, over the sound of the coolant teams being dispatched, "Fine sir. Didn't even notice you were gone."

Though he couldn't be seen doing so, Xaith nodded. "Good, then I'll take a detour on my way back to Engineering as to relay the results of our initial assessment to the Captain."

"The captain, sir?"

"Yes," Xaith acknowledged. "Undoubtedly he has more than one person making such analysis, and so I will make our engineering report available to be forwarded to them." He closed the comm lines as the transit system reached the section his quarters were found in, and he returned home for a brief stent. Once inside he was greeted by a voice that was not yet familiar to him, but not entirely estranged either.

"Greeting, Sargent," the Adjutant stated in acknowledgment of his entry, "Diagnostics complete. Awaiting new instruction." It was never Xaith's intention to activate S.A.S.H.A's avatar without actually installing her into it, as it was only able to operate on base code in its current state, and fulfill only rudimentary commands. But, on the other hand, he simply hadn't had the time to fully test all the capabilities of her soon-to-be material form which required the adjutant's activation.

"Status of analysis," Xaith ordered from the machine.

"The data provided has been patterned, and collated in the manner requested for the integration into Sasha." The rudimentary interface reported through the cold mechanical frame it had been given to operate. "But interpretation of information is a task outside my programming."

"Acknowledged." Xaith acknowledged as he brought down the baby toys cardboard box from the top shelf and pulled the drive from it. "Execute AI porting interface module and prepare for receiving S.A.S.H.A."

"Understood." The avatar stated as it initialized an internal shut down and total system clear. The basic program that operated the metal avatar was a sophisticated mechanical diagnostics program, whose sole purpose was to test all of the mechanical aspects of the avatar, but the code was not intended to be integrated at this time. After every single bit was scrubbed from the system Xaith began to upload XYI-001 into her avatar.

The upload would take some time, and so Xaith began personally analyzing the data correlated from the Engineering teams and forwarded a copy to the bridge for further distribution. His EEGARD flashed once more as he stepped out of his quarters and made his way back to Main Engineering. In his periphery streamed all of the relevant sensor logs and data organized by his adjutant. It would take some time, and some multi tasking, but he would crack at least some portion of the Devastators' capabilities.

When he stepped back into the transit system he also stepped into his own little world and the doors closed behind him.

William could hardly take it all in, the organized chaos of the command bridge as everyone relayed information from one station to another. This was why these people, were chosen. The future legends of humanity in the face of impossible odds performing duties few men would dare to try, giving up everything to give others a chance. He looked down at the clock on his console, and there he was, watching the time count down until they left the rest of humanity behind. Even if the Devastators were somehow defeated, no-one would be following them. That much was certain. He watched as the swarm of red was intercepted by weapons fire, refusing to slow as ships were torn apart, a group of fifty or so fighters pulling ahead of the others.

"Have the fighter escorts standby to engage, if those fighters pass that minefield they're free game. Though remind them not to stray too far as we aren't going to have that much time for fighter recovery." He turned back to the clock. Fifteen minutes, looking back up at their projected flight plan it currently read ten minutes until they reached the Eye, which would then take a further three minutes to dock and enter hyperspace. There really was no margin for error. He walked over to Andersons station, placing his hand on his shoulder. "Keep her going at max speed, you need to bring your A-game to docking with the Eye as there isn't a lot of time. That means a manual procedure." He gave the mans shoulder a pat as he walked back away from his station. This was turning out to be a more exciting day than it was supposed to be. "Order fighters to engage anything that makes it past the minefield, though they need to be sure not to stray past the recovery line, it's going to be close."

---

"BRACE FOR IMPACT!" The entire ship shook as the lights flickered, electrical systems flared and flashed. "Bulkheads A-29 to D-6 are compromised and venting atmosphere, and we've lost life support in engineering. Your orders commander?" William looked up, currently kneeling over an ensign who had been knocked to his feet. His hands covered in electrical burns, he was out cold and he was in pain but he was going to live... if any of them survived this. He gave him a re-assuring pat on the back before returning to the center of the bridge.

"Evacuate the affected areas then seal them off, have as many breathers as possible sent down to engineering and all available medics prioritize engineering personnel." This battle wasn't going well for, the Nightfury while state of the art was a stealth ship. Designed for taking out patrols or performing hit and run attacks. They had managed to sneak round to the Devastators flank with a small fleet of ships but they were once again into the thick of it. The Devastators living up to the name the media had given them. Especially that now a ship bigger than them, and obviously more powerful was singling them off bearing down upon them. The ship curved, William had to lean to remain standing upright due to so much power being diverted from systems like the inertia dampeners. "Bring us in hot, launch all weapons. Prepare to go in hard."

There was little more they could do at this point, other than to go down swinging. "Full thrust."

---

The Vitae cut through space as the swarm pursued, flashes of light as the first of the fighters struck the mines. More pushed through the hole as they followed those that went before them in an effort to reach the Vitae, their only goal. Those not currently occupied with working on systems looked up at the hologram as the large blip appeared behind them breaking out of Earths atmosphere. The Devastator vessel had finished with the shipyard in Africa and had come after them. The speed at which it progressed was worrying to say the least, if it continued on it's current speed the calculations Noah was presenting indicated it would take a mere seven minutes to catch up with them. That wasn't enough time.

"Weapons."

"Sir."

"Prepare Launch Tube A-1, keying in my authorization code into the system now." He turned his attention back to his keyboard, keying in the code elsewhere in the ship a Viper missile was primed and moved by machinery into it's launch tube. Arguably the most powerful weapon humanity had in it's arsenal he never expected that he'd ever need to use one. Let alone before they even left the Sol system. He doubted it would stop a Devastator ship of that size, but at the very least he had to slow it down. "Have Noah scan for any structural weaknesses, lock on to the locations he pinpoints and be ready to fire on my command." With all due hope this would even give the fighters chasing them something to think about. His console lit up green. "Fire."

He watched the screen as the missile, easily as large as a T-22 launched out of the top of the Ark, drifting before it turned and the main engine kicked in propelling it out towards the Devastator vessel picking up speed, it sped past the fighter squadrons now in a skirmish with the Devastator fighters. Some of the enemy fighters tried to intercept but the missile proved to be just too fast for them. Beams of plasma erupted from the target as it closed, as one shot was about to hit the nose of the missile detached. Eight warheads launched separating and branching out, before that section disconnected and launched eight more. A final section was revealed and launched the final eight, 16 warheads in total and eight decoys. There was no telling which war which until the point of impact, at least not by human technology. The warheads all branched out as beams of energy were shot towards them, explosions erupted as some of the warheads were intercepted. The decoys disappearing as some of them were hit. Within a minute explosions rocked the surface of the Devastator ship as the remaining warheads made contact.

The hologram flickered slightly as the radiation interfered with the sensors. He wasn't the only one watching it with baited breath, they hadn't had time to really analyze the sensor data from Earth yet but that ship had appeared in Earth orbit with little warning and proceeded to tear through Arks like they were sheets of paper, it now chasing them meant that all the Arks there must have either fled or be destroyed. He was sticking with optimism and presumed they fled, despite the fact nobody really knew what the effects would be of jumping a ship while in atmosphere would be, let alone in such close proximity to other ships and all the scaffolding. The picture cleared showing the outline of the Devastator flagship. "Status report?" He didn't direct the question directly at anyone, the people who had the answers would know that the question was for them. That was the benefit of everyone in this crew being a veteran.

"We're detecting-" the officer paused, no doubt double checking their findings. Good, he'd rather have the facts right than fast. That was a good quality in an officer and a sign of someone who could go far. "-minimal damage. Some minor hull breaches, though their pace has considerably slowed." William wanted to swear under his breath, with more missiles they could inflict more damage sure but if they used them all now what would happen in the unlikely event that they needed them down the line and didn't have any left? From now on every decision had lasting effects, not just on him and his crew but on the survival of the very human race.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could the officer raised his voice. "New contact!"

---

"We're detecting new contacts!" William turned to the nearest screen, switching it over the sensor scan of the nearby area. Swearing as he saw it fill up with new contacts. "Wait, we're reading IFF! They're human!" The screen refreshed showing tags on all of the vessels that had just jumped into orbit, he recognized the markers. Those from the Nagasaki Conglomerate and the Roslin Federation, they had jumped in to save their sister planet side by side. It was unheard off, it was unprecedented. It was exactly what they needed right now in order to save their planet.

"Bring us around, break current course." The ship swerved breaking from it's run straight at the Devastator ship. "Bring us around behind the-" He struggled to think of the right word, when he realized the right word was the easiest one. "-allied fleet. Telling engineering they have till we're in firing range again to get some form of shielding operational. If they need additional help find them it. It's time to finish this fight." He looked out the viewport as missiles and projectiles began launching from the new arrivals, the Devastators already split between two fronts delayed to react, the combined initial firepower of the human fleet tearing through several ships in seconds before the enemy ships appeared to regain their bearings. "Let's show these Earthers how Martians get stuff done."

---

"It's the Judicator!" The Judicator, that meant that Admiral Constantine had once again risked everything on a rag tag rescue mission possibly against orders. Projectiles flew forth from the Devastator ship as it turned itself in order to fire broadside, while the Judicator merely sat there for a couple of seconds, before railguns activated spraying fire at the incoming projectiles in order to stop them before they hit their mark. It was an impressive display to say the least. "Incoming transmission."

The image of Constantine appeared as a hologram before William. "Admiral, thanks for the save." The image of Constantine just flickered.

"No problem William - - - - to help. Yo - - - - out of here - - - still can."

William raised his hand in a crisp salute, as Constantine did the same. As the hologram turned to static as they reached the flux of energy surrounding the Eye of Thea he saw a powerful beam erupt from the Devastator ship crashing into the Judicator. "Commander!" He turned to Joanne. "If they aren't already, get those fighters on board and secure now." The image of Noah appeared.

"Admiral, automated subroutines engaged. Hyperspace jump commencing in thirty... twenty nine..." Everyone stopped what they were doing as they turned to whatever sensor reading they could get their eyes on. Still covered in static the signatures of the fighters could barely be seen as they all rushed towards the Vitae "Twenty three... twenty two... twenty one..." There was no stopping it now, if those fighters were to slow then there was nothing that could be done for them. "Sixteen... fifteen. Activating Eye of Thea self destruct as per Exodus Protocol." The sensors were rendered completely useless as the Eye of Thea began to put out even more energy than before. The PA system was activated as Noahs voice was cast throughout the ship.

"All hands, prepare for hyperspace jump. In five... four... three... two... one..." There was a blinding light throughout the ship, William himself felt the ship shake slightly as they were cast into hyperspace. When William regained his sight everything was silent throughout the bridge, as the hologram reactivated showing only the Vitae. There was a brief moment of applause before William spoke up over the din.

"All stations, report in. I want to see a diagnostic from every station within ten minutes. Once all maintenance is performed the relief crew will take over stations and we enter standard rotation, which means you are all off duty." He leaned against the console. "Patch me through to ship wide." There was a buzz indicating that he was through. "This is the Admiral. I am pleased to inform you all that the hyperspace jump was a success, and we are successfully in hyperspace. We will remain here for two days, so get comfortable, regular functions of the ship have been restored. If you have any questions feel free to contact Noah, a shipwide update will be released at 1900 Hours ship time. Until then, have a pleasant day."

He rubbed some sweat of his brow that he didn't even know was pooling there, he must have been more nervous than he thought he had been. "Noah."

"Yes Admiral."

"Inform Kevin Ford, Karen Anderson and Erik Karlson that I would like to see them tomorrow at 0900Hours in my study."

"At once Admiral."

William nodded. "Good job everyone, we did it."

“Nukes…”

Gavon mumbled to himself, a hint of disappointment laced in his tone as he watched the holographic display of the ship’s “viper” missile head straight for the pursuing Devastator ship.

As much as power like that was needed to contend with such a large and potentially deadly enemy vessel, the use of nuclear weapons was also a very real threat to everyone involved. Granted, it's application was backed by good intentions -namely to save humanity from a rogue entity bent on destroying and conquering- yet the Security Chief couldn't help but think about another facet of nuclear war. The uglier side in which a once prosperous Russia was laid in ruins within minutes, leaving nothing but the memory of radioactive fallout as it drifted throughout the country like a sweeping plague. On the one hand, he had the fortune of not being born during that time, but on the other, had to endure the end result, growing up in a wasteland wrought with hate, despair, and hopelessness...

Red lights flickered on the holo-table console, indicating a direct hit to the enemy's hull, each small warhead hitting it's mark with precision and massive force. A few Dispatcher agents, who were monitoring the events in tandem with their security-related work, cheered and yelled exclamatory victory cries.

“We're not out of the woods yet folks, brace yourselves.” Gavon announced to the room, knowing the blast this close would produce a shockwave that would inevitably impact the Ark and it's systems.

The sudden power flux was minimal however, and ship-wide communication, camera footage, and Agent tracking were interrupted for a time, causing readouts to relay skewed information or simply nothing at all. Moments later, systems began restoring to normal, and what followed was just short of a miracle.

The Judicator had intervened, supplying the firepower needed for the Vitae to make its long awaited hyperspace jump. Momentarily following, Noah's voice came over the ship-wide intercom, announcing the jump countdown, and an unspoken realization washed over the room that this was really happening.

“TreVayne to all Security personnel…”

Gavon paused for a moment, looking over at Natalie who had stopped what she was doing to return his glance, and as though they read each other's minds, both simultaneously mouthed the words I love you.

“The jump is set, so I'll see you all on the other side. TreVayne out.”

With that, the blinding flash of the FTL hit them as though the sun itself had gone supernova, rattling the ship’s computer systems and structure just enough to cause a few things not secured to fall off of tables, walls, and computer stations. Aside from the bright light that was slowly subsiding, the room personnel were fine as they readjusted their eyesight to check readouts, security status reports, and to reconnect with field Agents.

Gavon, on the other hand, was grabbing at his chest, momentarily stunned and wincing as he propped himself up against the holo-table to slow his unusually heavy breathing. Natalie rushed over to her husband with a worried expression, but Gavon put a hand out.

“I’m fine, just a little light-headed.” He said in a low voice, glancing around the room to see if any of the others had noticed.

“Ten years of marriage, and you don’t think I know when you’re lying?” She whispered, clearly upset. “I saw you reach for your chest…”

“Nat, I’m fine, just-”

The Admiral’s voice over the intercom interrupted any further chatter as his request for “status reports” started up a new series of work for the Security crew, ensuring that all Agents were accounted for, security protocols were being followed, and audio/video systems were operational. As Locke was finishing up his “sign-off” speech for the moment, Gavon turned to address his second-in-command, Jacen Oliver, who was working with one of the Dispatchers.

“Oliver, you have command for a few minutes. Any security equipment-related discrepancies found need to be quickly relayed to the maintenance crews for repairs and diagnostic.”

“Understood Chief” He said with a puzzled expression, although not wanting to question his superiors motives.

Gavon left the room, with Natalie following a few feet behind, both heading down the small corridor toward the locker room area where he stopped at a refresher station to splash cold water onto his face.

“It’s this god damned artificial heart, Nat.” He finally said, taking a seat on a nearby bench. “I knew it was going to malfunction eventually...”

“What happened though? What were you feeling?” Natalie sat down and put an arm around him.

“I don’t know, but I was perfectly fine up until we hit the jump, and there were sudden palpitations to the point that I thought this thing was going to rip through my chest. I was winded like I’d just run a marathon in a few seconds, and that was about the time systems were coming back online and the bright light faded.”

“Well, I think it’s safe to assume that whatever interference is being caused during an FTL jump, is also affecting your heart’s regulatory protocols.”

Gavon leaned his head back against the bulkhead in disappointment. “And whose to say it won’t happen again? You do realize that automatically makes me a liability to the position?”

Natalie sighed. “Gav, we’ll get it figured out. So far your heart has given you no problems, and on top of that, you’re probably one of the healthiest and most physically active people on this ship. You’ve combat-trained damn near every one of your Agents without any issues, so why are you allowing this ‘slight malfunction’ to pull you down?”

“Because I don’t trust it.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, go have it checked out, run a few tes-”

“No.” Gavon quickly sat up, shaking his head in protest. “This needs to be kept confidential. I don’t need it leaking out to the wrong people in command, or to the Admiral for cryin’ out loud.”

“Okay…” Natalie thought for a moment. “Doctor Raidne”

“The Cryogenics tech?” Gavon snorted. “Are you just randomly picking someone off the top of your head?”

“Will you shut up and listen for a moment?” She said bluntly, elbowing him in the shoulder. “Yes, she is head of the Cryo department, but Doctor Raidne is also a medical doctor and not technically part of the Vitae’s medical team. Which means...she won’t have the same obligations to report her diagnosis to the Admiral, or anyone else for that matter.”

“Fine” He let out a deep breath. “I’ll reach out to her later once we’re through here and the relief teams have reported in. Speaking of which, we need to get back...”

Everything around Theodore was a blur. All he could see and focus on where his controls. He had redirected their flight path at least three times since the giant devastator ship had arrived in orbit. His knuckles were starting to ache. He typed in command after command. Trying desperately to make sure they wouldn't get shot down. He had a duty to fulfill to these brave men and women. If he made a type-o all would die. If he typed too slow all of them would die. If he even made the slightest misstep the blood of thousands of people would be on his hands. The end of the human race would probably be because of his doing. So with that thought in his mind, Theodore sighed a sigh of relief when the Eye of Thea finally came into his screen's view. The eye itself always looked a little weird to him. As the eye itself looked more like one giant cut in half pylon with a ring attached in the middle of said pylon. This ring was just wide and high enough for them to fly through. This meant that docking with the eye was hard as nails for any pilot. luckily for Theodore, however, the ship's automated docking controls would handle this. At least that's what he thought.And as Theodore focused on his controls he didn't hear the footsteps of someone walking towards him. And when said person put a hand on his shoulder Theodore almost jumped from his controls. But when he was about to look and probably curse at the guy he heard the voice of the admiral speaking towards him so he quickly shut his mouth before anything vulgar flew out.

"Keep her going at max speed, you need to bring your A-game to docking with the Eye as there isn't a lot of time. That means a manual procedure."

Was he being serious? They were racing towards the eye and he wanted him to dock manually? This wasn't in the training! He was never trained for such a scenario especially not under combat circumstances. But desperate times called for desperate measures and he knew that better than anyone.He wanted to turn around to say something. But before he could even respond to the admiral's order the man had already left him to his devices giving him a pad on the shoulder as a way of giving some support. It wasn't helping.

Theodore looked at his monitor and watched as the Vitae came closer and closer to the eye. They way they were going now they would have to stop to steer themselves into the eye itself which would take up to much time. the only way he could not do this was if they had a clean shot at the ring itself. Theodore had a plan. though he wasn't certain if it was brilliant or suicidal. He would have to steer the ship in a way that they would literally stop dead center inside the ring itself. If it worked, they could dock in mere seconds before warping away. If it failed and accidentally crashed against the ring they would be sitting ducks. He was gonna need help to pull this maneuver off, however. It needed almost all the engines to work in unison and even his typing skills weren't fast enough for that. He was gonna need some artificial support. And that support came from Noah.

" Noah on my word activate all forward facing thruster at full speed."

" roger that sir but what is your plan if i may ask?"

" I'm simply going to thread the needle."

With that said Theodore steered the ship for a perfect line up with the gate. Theodore watched as they got closer and closer. Waiting to give the order. He noticed some water falling from his face. But it wasn't water. It was his sweat.

"50km and closing sir. I advise we.."

" Not yet."

" 50km, 40km 30km."

" Now!"

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

---

Theodore awoke, hearing the blaring of the alarms and the sizzling of electricity sparking from lights and broken wires. He saw nothing but darkness and realized he was covered in rubble. He tried to free himself but failed. He tried again screaming with all his might to give himself a power boost. Again he failed. And again he tried, this time, screaming as hard as he could and to his relief he felt a twinge of freedom. He tried again and again slowly pushing himself up through the rubble. And as he finally freed himself he heard another explosion rocked the ship. This time, he stood however and as he looked around the bridge he felt a tear sliding down his face. Everyone was dead. Either caved in under rubble or dead because of the ceiling crashing down on them. And then he saw his worst nightmare come true. His uncle lay dead in his captain's chair. As a metal girder had gone right through his chest. Theodore had no words. And slowly stumbled over towards his uncle's dead corpse. Trying not to fall over the dead corpses. He hugged his uncle's corpse the blood covering his body as he did. He cried like a child, tears streaming across his face. He let the body loose and closed the eyes. He then turned around and looked at the Devastator ship still firing at them. His crying turned into screams of rage and hatred. They had taken away the only thing he loved in this world. And he was going to make them pay.He walked over to the comms which were somehow still functioning and screamed in it.

" Abandon ship !"

A few mumbled voices could be heard meaning that people were still alive. He turned around and walked towards his controls. The ship shaking again as he did. The devastator ship itself was somewhat damaged as the guns had taken away parts of its armor. Theodore plotted his course towards the ship putting the thrusters at full power. he was gonna make damn sure those aliens bastards would get what they deserved. He then turned from his controls
And started to run to the nearest escape pod. The ship shook again and ceiling above him partly saved him almost blocking his path. He thought he wasn't gonna make it. He was however as he barged into an escape pod and launched. He could see the ship crashing into the Devastator. It's ship slicing through the Devastator before it exploded. But before Theodore could laugh his escape pod was covered in flames. And a few seconds later it turned to black.

---

Present day

You could faintly hear the rumbling coming from the engines. They were getting closer and closer and Theodore was already having second thoughts about this idea.They were slowing down at a good pace. But they weren't slowing down fast enough. Theodore had to do something quick or else they would have a serious problem. And then it came to him.

" Noah turn the ship around 180 degrees and activate the main engine at full capacity!"

" affirmative"

It seems Theodore's desperate plan had worked. As the Vitae stopped right in the dead center of the eye.

" preparing docking procedures."
Noah's icy voice said as the ship prepared for warp.

Theodore fell back into his seat catching his breath. He looked towards Leeroy with a smile .

" Remind me to never do something that stupid again?"

" Yeah.. i will."

He had done it. He had saved the ship and its crew. And as the ship warped away a little smile appeared on his face. He then reported into the admiral saying that all controls were green. He then stood up and walked off to his room. He was dead tired and decided to get a few hours of shut-eye. Of all the drama that had happened today. Of all the lives that were lost. At least The vitae would keep on going. As he entered the room he practically fell inside his bed. And sleep quickly followed.

As the chaos went on outside of the Vitae, the android stepped out of Eden. Dr. Anderson had given him a near rambling explanation before she placed her arms around him in a gesture of comfort. A hug, he felt her warmth for a moment before she quickly departed, leaving the machine man alone once more in the beauty of Eden. His ears focused on the scene of nature around him, he had given one glance at the swaying green grass before he exited the area.

The sounds had immediately hit Michael as he stood in the hallway. The civilians he had passed by were long gone, the only other lifeforms were a trio of security personal. The android turned towards them as the sounds of leather boots clanking rapidly against the stainless steel floors grew closer. He rose an eyebrow at the expressions on their faces, a confused look on his own as one spoke out to him.

"Identify yourself citizen. The ship is on lock-down, you should be in your quarters." The central man of the trio stated in a forceful tone as one beside of him tapped at a holopad.

"My name is Michael, I work in the research laboratories, I sim-" The android said as he spoke in his typical gentle tone. He was interrupted by the man tapping madly at his holopad.

"Michael Smith. He's civilian personal."

"Then he needs to be escorted to his room." The gruff central man replied as he locked eyes with the synthetic man. Michael could practically feel the stress in the man's voice, nearly seeing each drop of sweat fall from his brow.

"Donovan, take him back, Roberts and I have to other things to deal with." The man added before he turned towards Roberts, the one that brought up Michael's file on his datapad. They both walked away, as Donovan glanced at the android. Of course not knowing the young man's real identity.

"Alright, let's get going. Lock-downs are serious business, the ship is under attack by the Devastators. Didn't you know that?" Donovan asked with a raised eyebrow, a smirk on his face. He then scratched his bearded chin as Michael followed him down the hallway. Internally Michael's machine mind had been working at the mere mention of 'Devastators'.

"Yes of course, I was made uneasy by the whole event. Ended up in Eden trying to calm my nerves. Left and forgot the whole thing was happening." Michael responded as he looked at the security officer. That wasn't the whole truth, nor was his identity as Michael 'Smith'. He quickly dug through his database, then found his own file, one crafted by others before his awakening.

"Well I guessed Eden did its job for you. Still, you gotta be careful. The Devastators are scary, people go on edge even if they're just mentioned." Officer Donovan added, his words more stern than anything else. Michael's sensors had taken them into consideration while his internal processors went through other affairs, mainly his own file on the database.

His parents were killed when he was very young. Dr. Ethan Phillips, a relative of Michael's, took over his upbringing and pushed the boy into the scientific field.

That was not the truth, but it was conceivable to believe. Others would likely get uncomfortable if Michael were to mention this. The death of one's family was a touchy subject. The android could falsify his emotions to work with his own biography in order to make it utterly believable.

"Yes, I understand you, officer. I could only wonder how an assault by them has caused the population of the Vitae to behave." Michael stated. His mind shifted the subject of the extraterrestrial Devastators. He found himself interested in such beings, their actions and history with humanity peeked the android's curiosity.

"We have it safely under control. The Vitae has the best crew assembled, it will be over with in no time." Donovan replied as the two continued walking. They were nearing the crew quarters as they passed down another hallway. Michael noticed another duo of security personal who passed by them, Donovan giving them both nods. The android's mind was focused on the Devastators, conversation was simple to carry on.

"I have faith in your ability, I do hope this conflict is over soon." Michael simply said as Donovan stopped in his stride. They had reached the room of Michael 'Smith'. The security officer turned towards the synthetic being.

"Alright, this is your stop. Stay in there until the lock-down is over with. I appreciate the vote of confidence. Have a nice day, Michael." Donovan said with another smile before the android entered his room, the door locking behind him. His artificial eyes took in his quarters. He did not need a bed, a restroom or any entertainment. But they were nice touches. A human would consider such a living space, 'cozy'.

Michael approached the wall, and placed his hand gently upon it. It was utterly metallic, not a surprise to him. The machine man pressed a small console near where his hand had rested, the window unit's image changed to one of nature. A snapshot of a calm winter's day. The eye-catching sun breaking through the clouds as its rays reflected off the blanket of snow. Something he had never seen in person, but found a certain beauty in as he sat down silently on his bed.

It took some time for "Specialist Irons" to get her bearings, and when she did she turned the blowtorch off and tossed it away. What the hell was she doing, anyway? This is not what she came here for! This here was the last of humanity, the final representation of what was and will be. And despite her hatred towards this specific plan and whoever was in charge of it, there were no other options left. It was time to make oneself useful, and obviously Engineering would not do.

The woman turned at the general direction of the loudest screaming in the power core bay, in search of her commanding officer, in time to see Rorq briefing two security guards and very obviously gesturing at her. She braced herself - she was never good at lying and the only reason she wasn't in the brig so far was because of the team's complete trust in their AI, whom she managed to avoid, and the security being busy with civilians. But all of this will end now.

Almost poetically, at that exact moment her sight went black from the EMP, and she managed to get a strange reading from her accelerometers before her head collided heavily against the pipe she was fixing.

The cyborg came to her senses a moment after the admiral's announcement, missing it entirely. And while her software was rebooting and recalibrating, she switched its priorities to allow her to stand up, toss away the cracked hazmat helmet, and take off the torn suit. What appeared in front of the security guards was a person so heavily augmented her humanity may have not survived the appropriate math, armored from head to toe in some sort of interlocking bodysuit. She blinked her black eyes at them just as a sharp red light came to life in each.

"Y-you." The 'long metal pipe effect' of her voice was even more noticeable now. "Take me to your leader"

The two Agents headed toward the woman who Lt Rorq had filed a complaint against, and no sooner had they reached her, that both men presented their sidearm at the ready, loaded with non-lethal stun rounds that have the capacity to bring down even the largest of men, or otherwise...

“Down on your knees; hands behind your head, now!” The one patrolman demanded, not sure what to think of the two red-eyes staring back at him. “Noah, we need an ID scan please, send information to HUD G-Lowery and A-Scott, also copy SecCom.” Both Agents helmet screens lit up with scrolling information, and a moment later, NO4H’s response in their earpieces.

“The record of one ‘Mai Irons’ has undergone severe editing, using rather archaic Nagasaki Conglomerate tools. A cross reference with existing personnel database selection algorithms sets the entire file as forgery.”

“Hm. Re-run the scan just to be sure.”

“Your request was run twice, Agent Lowery, and records have yielded the same results.”

“Shit” The Agent muttered before turning to his partner. “We’ve gotta call it in.”

The cyborg’s proverbial ears perked at those words.

“Yes. That’s perfect.” She slowly raised her hands. Her HUD was going nuts at the pistols in the guards’ hands in conjunction with their stance. From this range, she could probably make the blood from the left one’s neck splash into the eyes of the right, and busying her assault assistance algorithms with these calculations was all she could do to avoid leaping at the two.

The real challenge was deciding whether these guys were the ‘not my problem’ type, since the right kind of pressure would make them kick this encounter up the ranks. Considering what the guard said, she decided to risk it.

“You might want to put those guns away.” She said, a little louder. “Fire one of those in here, and you might just get lucky enough to blow up the entire ship.” This warning had the exact required effect - half of Engineering were now staring at the guards, watching their next move.

“We’re not looking to escalate this any further, so I need to ask you -again- to get down on your knees and keep your hands behind your head.”

Agent Lowery turned to his partner, signaling to keep an eye on the perpetrator, while he contacted Security Command. The exchange between the Agent and SecCom was brief, essentially being instructed to escort the woman via transit system to “Central cell block A”, which was the adjacent building nearest to the Security Centre in the Hub. And considering she was the Ark’s first prisoner and a potential stowaway, keeping her close for questioning was the viable option.

“Look,” the woman was slowly becoming confused. Did they really want to turn this into a hostage situation? “You’ve got this all wrong. I am not surrendering, but I will come with you for debriefing, preferably with your commanding officer, and otherwise cooperate. But none of that ‘get on your knees’ crap.” She gestured around them at the engineering team and the sensitive devices scattered around the power core hangar. “Look around you. To put it lightly, this place is not the best place to have this sort of exchange, yes? And the only reason you’re not neutralized right now is because it’s complicated for me to avoid casualties or collateral damage. You should seriously put your guns down. This is the last time I ask politely.”

Despite all of this, the cyborg did not step forward. She could clearly see the guards’ fingers twitching on their triggers, and the moment she’d move towards them was the exact moment collateral damage would become unavoidable. Her voice was calm when she spoke, to lure them into a feeling of safety that would allow them to parlay instead of making decisions with their guns. It was all up to their training now.

That is, if they were the only factor in the equation.

A loud bang broke the standoff. A young engineer, with a healthy combination of bravery and stupidity, decided it was a good idea to try and defuse the situation by hitting the cyborg over the head with a heavy pipe. The pipe flew from his hands by the resulting backlash, and he stumbled back as her head turned towards him with dramatic slowness. “What are you doing?! You’re in their line of fire!” She hissed at him, ignoring the guards for a moment.

Both guards shot each other a puzzled glance as the usual scene unfolded, and the lead officer, Lowery, decided it was in everyone’s best interest to clear Engineering. Signalling to his partner, Agent Scotts, to start moving out all personnel in the area, Lowery then added a query for Noah to do a full bio scan of the perpetrator, giving any visual intel that would be helpful in dealing with the situation.

“SecCom - Lowery, immediate backup requested in Engineering, Sector B...standby for further info...”

The Agent skimmed through the scrolling scanner readout on his visor HUD as Noah continued feeding him what details could be ascertained about the strange female, relaying what he could to Security Command and Dispatch.

“Sending diagnostic scan of perp now; appears to be somewhat human but severely augmented and encased in some type of exoskeletal bodysuit. Currently unarmed, but resisting arrest. Agent Scotts is clearing area, over.”

“Acknowledged, backup is en route, ETA five minutes.”

“Agent Lowery.” Noah’s voice immediately followed in the officer’s headset. “My calculations of the subject’s outer suit shows a high probability that it will be greatly resistant to any lethal or nonlethal standard issue ammunition.”

Meanwhile Officer Scotts was busily ushering out all personnel from the immediate area, relieved as well that backup was on it’s way momentarily, and hoping that the situation doesn’t snowball into anything more drastic.

"Grave Robbers, Form up." Sara spoke quietly into her comm. The minefield had been deployed and the remaining bomb-layers had retreated back to the Vitae- there was nothing left in space aside form the two fighter squadrons, a thin layer of makeshift mines, and a whole lot of Devastators. Even after a wave of missiles from the Vitae had struck their formation, there were still more of them on the way. It was like shooting into a swarm of bees- you'd inevitably hit some, but there were so goddamn many that it didn't mean shit. Sara's finger tapped rapidly against her controls, her mind scrambling to find a way to survive this. She almost breathed out a sigh of relief as a group of 50 or so fighters began to rapidly outpace the rest of their host. 50 was a considerably more doable number than a million.

"If they get past the minefield, they're free game." crackled the voice of their CAG over the comms. "Don't stray too far from the Vitae or you're boned, there's no cover for you outside of the Vitae's weapon range.

"Barracudas in position." reported Setter of the Barracudas squadron. "Get your fangs out Hawkins. Losers buy the drinks."

"You better hope your first paycheck comes through Setter," Hawkins replied, in usual fighter-jock fashion.

"Fifty's a lot, I wonder how long it'll take before the rest of them get here." Loch said, expressing his concerns over the squadron wide comms.

"Heh, I don't know about you guys, but I'm feeling uneducated, undisciplined, and decidedly unsafe." came the confident, english-accented drawl of Thomas, his gleefull face almost visible beneath his polarized visor.

Sara cracked her knuckles and neck, rolling her shoulders before settling her hands in front of the controls. Across their HUDs and Smart-Vision links, small cones lit up all around them, representing the cones of fire from the Vitae's nearest point defense turrets. The Vitae may be little more than a glorified a civilian transliner, but it sure sported the weapons package of a combat-carrier. YU-99 turrets provided overlapping cones of fire and were capable of filling local space with a murderous hail of tungsten slugs in little more than a few seconds. The Vitae's flak cannons would hold off on firing until enemy craft made it in too close- otherwise they'd risk friendly fire.

The first 50 enemy craft dashed through the minefield, there were a few explosions here and there, and the minefield took down a sparse 4 while damaging another 5. The minefield was meant for the denser formation of the swarm- not as much a sizable, but relatively tiny strike force of 50. Sara breathed out and quickly targeted 10 random fighters heading towards them and loosed fully half of her serpent anti-fighter missiles. She wasn't the only one, several other members of her own squadron and the Barracudas did the same- better to lighten up the possible storm as much as possible- without draining all their munitions if they needed it. In total, some 70 missiles screamed away from the fighter formation and struck the Devastators, the numerous explosions shrouding the enemy in smoke.

"That was easy!" came a triumphant cry from Thomas, whom Sara could see exitedly punching in the air in his cockpit.

"Don't be too sure rook." Loch chided.

Sure enough, moments later, devastator fighters began punching through the smoke cloud, several damaged but seeming no worse for wear. The devastators were more aware of their position now, but kept moving at a beeline for the Vitae. As the devastators screamed towards the Vitae, several of them released clutches of angry red crystaline spikes towards the Vitae.

"Barracudas! Intercept those missiles!" barked Setter as the Barracuda squadron broke off to defend the Vitae from enemy missile attacks.

"Grave Robbers, break and attack!" ordered Sara, as she pushed her fighter forward and into the fray. The T-22s juked and weaved into the enemy formation, their jerky and precise motions interfering with the Devatators more smooth and flowing ones. Sara shuddered as she finally got a closer look at the fighters. They looked like gray skulls with pulsating orange cores protected by chitinous ribcages. A second, brighter core pulsated well within the enemy ships, protected by thick layers of chitin, but glowing bright enough that it could still be seen from outside. Looked as good a place as any to shoot at.

Lining up into the kill-slot of a Devastator, Sara spun up her K-80 autocannons and pulsed the trigger once, and then a second time, watching her ammo counter rapidly drop as several dozen glowing shells tore into her target and exploded on impact. Chitin shattered as the explosive shells crashed into it, shards of chitin narrowly whizzing by her cockpit. She'd need to keep a range on these guys. The enemy devastator spiraled out of the way of harm but resumed its course towards the Vitae. She cursed and lined herself up with the enemy fighter again, pushing herself a little bit faster to keep up with it. She keyed the magazine switch and shifted to armor piercing rounds. She pulsed her trigger again, trying to keep the enemy in her sights as it began juking and weaving out of the way. The armor piercing slugs struck the Devastator and embedded itself into its tough chitin, but the ship kept flying.

Why wouldn't these things die? Sara growled in frustration as she wondered what weapons she would use to work when an armor piercing shell finally pierced the enemy's thick shell and embedded itself within the Devastators core. The ship's orange core dulled and the devastator ceased active movement, contenting itself to follow the momentum that her autocannon rounds had dumped into it.

"Splash one bandit." Sara called into her comms. "Explosive rounds only shred their hull. Use Armor piercing rounds to punch through to their cores."

They now had the attention of the Devastators. The enemy flight ceased their attack on the Vitae and began to spiral around and target the Vitae's fighters. The Vitae's point defense cannons would fire into open spaces, and the battle had began in earnest. Bright pulses of light shot out from the devastator fighters as the more nimbler T-22s juked and jived in and out of enemy formations, spraying them with cannon fire before streaking away to safety. Unfortunately for them, unlike the incredibly durable devastators, the Vitae's T-22s were no wear near as capable of resisting enemy weapons fire, and losses quickly began to mount on the Vitae's squadrons, who were unable to kill the durable fighters fast enough to avoid their own losses.

"Shit! I've got 2 on my tail! Somebody help me out! Somebod-" Adams' voice was cut off with a wash of static, as a quartet of blue pulses slammed into the back of his smoking fighter, glass and metal shattering as the force of the explosion tore the fighter apart.

Sara juked out of the way of another pair of energy bolts, only to be jolted in surprise as a helmet struck her cockpit. She had barely a split second to notice 'Shocker', Adams callsign scrawled onto the forehead of the helmet before it was out of her sight and she was back in the fight.

Keep your head in the game Sara chided herself as she twisted her fighter through a formation of devastators, using her fighter's mobility to make a 180 degree turn immediately after passing them, and opened up on the back of an enemy with a barrage of autocannon rounds. The armor piercing shells thudded into the devastator which attempted to writhe away as Sara loosed a missile at her target and immediately changed to another closer one. She hosed the next one down with autocannon fire and breathed a sigh of relief as a lucky shot got through and pierced its core, killing it. That makes three. Sara breathed as she spun out of the way of enemy fire, an energy pulse scorching the edge of her wing and leaving a particularly nasty scar on the hull.

---

With a combination of the Vitae's two squadrons, and the Vitae's considerable number of point defense guns, it was only a matter of minutes before the first of the enemy strike forces was all but dealt with. Despite the encounter only lasting 5 minutes, it sure felt close to an eternity and a half for Barracudas and Grave Robbers. Of their 14 ships, only 8 remained, 4 were shot down, and 2 were damaged so badly that the pilots had to return to the Vitae.

"Now that the appetizer is done, its time for the main course." Setter remarked morbidly as the next wave of devastators approached them- this wave was much, much larger than the first, numbering some thousand. Their numbers cut as the mines exploded in the midst of their dense formations, but there were still too many of them. They weren't getting any backup either. The Vitae was only minutes away from the Eye, and they didn't have time to launch more squadrons and still be able to get them all back.

"Get ready for another licking Grave Robbers." Sara panted over the comms, "Not sure about you guys, but I'm not ready to die just yet."

"Hoo-rah Twitch."
"This next one's for Adams."

---

"Contact!" Any other comms traffic was cut off at the sign of a jump signature in their immediate area, a large one. Any fighters near the approximated jump zone quickly fled, as a large ship warped into space, its sudden appearance displacing much of space around them, shockwaves rocking the nearby fighters as they regrouped. Sara breathed out a relief as she saw the ship- it was gray, not green, and very much made of steel and not chitin. It was the Judicator, and the battleship had plopped itself right inbetween the Vitae and the oncoming fighter formation. Now that they had both the point defense weapons of both the Vitae, and the Judicator, the fighters had a chance. Loosing the remnants of its own fighters, the pilots of the Vitae let out a cheer as reinforcements from the Judicator supplemented their numbers.

"All fighters! Return to the Vitae, we are leaving!" the CAG ordered as the strike pilots began their second engagements.

"Go Vitae fighters, we've got you covered!" barked the gruff voice of the Judicator's CAG, whom had taken to the field with the rest of his pilots in a strike fighter of his own.

With a guilty sigh, Sara reluctantly turned her fighter around and sped back towards the Vitae. Already she could see explosions as the massive wave of devastators tore into the remnants of the Judicator's forces. Their fighters were destroyed within the minute, and already devastator fighters chased after them.

"Hangar be advised, prepare for several emergency landings." Sara called as she and the rest of the Vitae's fighters soared towards the open hangar doors. Even in the distance, Sara could see engineers and techs rapidly running back and forth preparing for the emergency landing. Already, gravity inside the hangar was shut off, and the emegency recovery barricades were being stretched across the various points of the hangar entrance to catch fighters and slow their landing. With the speed that the devastators were heading at them, the Vitae pilots had almost no time to break before entering the hangar. Finding her own opening in the hangar, Sara braced herself and rapidly braked.

Her haress' built in airbags activated as her fighter collided with the interlocking mesh of catch-cables, she could almost feel the tearing as several of the barricade's layers tore from her fighter skidded against the floor of the hangar. As she finally skidded to a halt, she could make out the sound of the bridge counting down to jump. Or rather, she heard the word jump before her vision suddenly went white for a moment and her stomach dropped. A moment later, they were in hyperspace.

She punched off the top of her cockpit and pulled off her helmet and revealed her matted down carrot hair, the airbags deflating around her neck as she slouched back in her fighter seat and panted.

She made it. She fought the first devastators anyone had seen in over a decade and she lived.

The power core bay was growing quiet as the engineering teams were led out into safe areas. Outside, the guards on patrol took over the task of coordination, allowing Scotts to return inside. The red-eyed cyborg’s expression was hard to read due to various protrusions and strengthenings of her jaw, cheeks and brow, but her half-narrowed eyes contained a kind of impatient mischief that made the officers feel very mortal.

”Good, good.” She looked around as the last few engineers left, the men glancing apprehensively at the terminals they were leaving behind, as their duties were fully relieved to the AI. ”Very professional. I guess we can begin.” Their guns still trained on her, she made some make-believe stretches while finishing up the full systems diagnostic that was running in the background ever since the EMP reset the artificial part of her brain recorded. It was time for a test run. A fluid stretch downwards, a loud crack, and the black figure was suddenly flying towards Lowery. Her feet left sharp marks on the grates in the bay’s walkways as she crossed the distance towards the security officers with forceful, unnatural leaps.

For a fraction of a second Agent Lowery had lowered his guard just enough, while scrubbing through identifying information in his HUD, allowing the thrusting sprint from the cyborg to catch him flat-footed. But a second before she collided with the man, her direction switched abruptly sideways and she leapt out of engineering.

“Bitch!...” The Agent growled through clenched teeth, partly for being caught off guard and wondering just what the hell was wrong with this lady. He quickly aimed his pistol and fired two stun shots which clearly sent sparks and ricocheted off the creature’s exoskeletal frame, before sprinting toward the exit in tow.

“Well, you were right Noah...” He mumbled under his breath before speaking up. “I need you to track her path of egress, locking down all related corridors ahead of her.”

Lowery quickly switched to an open broadcast Security channel.

“All agents, Code Red, Engineering level. Currently in pursuit of suspected stowaway on foot, possibly armed and dangerous. Highly resistant to standard stun munitions. Sending image and ID scans to visors now.”

Chief TreVayne reviewed the holo-screens, which displayed a three-dimensional breakdown of everything NO4H had on the suspected cybernetic female stowaway, taking special interest in the scanner readouts of it’s “environmental suit”.

“Noah, give me everything you have on potential weak spots of the exoskeleton. I know they exist, everyone has a weakness…”

The Chief switched to the open Security channel.

“Listen up folks, I want this thing found and apprehended for questioning. No alarms, we don’t want to stir up more civil unrest than we’ve already had to deal with.”

“Sir, should we inform Admiral Locke?” One of the Dispatchers turn in his chair as he addressed the Chief.

“Not unless we have to…”

The combined view of overwatch cameras as well as rotating, high-resolution ones gave the pursuit the feeling of a car chase. The black-clad perpetrator zig-zagged between obstacles on her path, leaping over some makeshift barricades the on-site security would bring up, her jog well over the sprint speed of the fastest human.

“Sir, the armored exoskeleton covering the subject is made of interlocking plates over their entire body, making it highly resistant to trauma and light arms fire,” NO4H droned while the screens switched between cameras to keep the cyborg in view. “Except the face. The subject’s speed as well as their spectrographic emissions limit the variety of materials used in their manufacture. According to my database and a tentative ballistic simulation, Anti-ship and anti-armor weapons have a high chance of penetration, but may damage the ship if fired inside. The main structural weaknesses of this armor are the joints, which may be penetrated by sustained fire of medium caliber weapons.”

The cyborg suddenly broke sideways into an adjacent corridor, noticing a bulkhead closing some hundred meters away. The screen showing the map to the Chief of Security would flicker as NO4H calculated alternate targets for the intruder, as well as interception routes for the involved security forces scattered on the ship. The path chosen as “most dangerous” led to one of the armament supply bunkers, and due to obvious design priorities, had very easy access from the main corridor leading from the security bay.

At least, that’s what she hoped would happen.

She crossed the corridors in lurching leaps, each bulkhead slamming shut just a few seconds behind her. They were catching up. One of the paths ahead already contained security guards and a barricade, and she was hailed by light arms fire that slowed her down by the few seconds that took some loose plates on the side of her face and over her head to interlock, forming a mask of the same material her body armor was made. She leapt over the barricade, knocking the helmet off the head of a security guard with her knee, and dived into the closing doors of the next bulkhead. Unfortunately, by the time she reached them the gap was narrower than her shoulders, and shrunk even further when she attempted to sidle through it. For a second that seemed to stretch forever, she pushed against the gigantic doors with her back and hands, and somehow slipped away into the next corridor.

The bulkhead she next faced had just finished closing shut. It was an intersection, and one of the side corridors, now closed, connected with one of security’s main transport veins. It was time to wait.

Gavon smiled as he stared at the footage of the cyborg caught in the center of a crossroad, all four bulkheads closed and locked tight, giving them at a least a few minutes of breathing room. He considered the possibilities based on NO4H’s current information and a rather slimmed down biomechanical schematic of the suspect’s physical make-up, showing key points of vulnerability along the interlocking plates of her armor. For a moment, the Chief couldn’t help but wonder what this creature used to be, perhaps part of some military experiment run on human test subjects? The thought disgusted him at best, never understanding why man felt it necessary to merge flesh and machines to the point that their humanity was all but lost somewhere in the wires and gears of “engineering marvels”.

“Listen up” He addressed the command room as well as the field Agents on the comm, pulling up level schematics on the holotable, pinpointing the cyborgs exact locations and sending the information to each officer’s visor HUD.

“It’s time to end this. Peacefully if possible, but end it nevertheless. I can’t have this thing running all over the damn ship unchecked, and until we know otherwise, consider the suspect armed, highly erratic, and dangerous. Based on current Agent proximity, we’re going to need a squad of six positioned at the main bulkhead door leading into the Security transit tunnel. The squad will be be accompanied by three ARX45 Security droids who will rendezvous with the squad and position themselves directly in front of the door, prepared to apprehend and secure the suspect as the door is reopened. As a bonus, Noah has located weak points throughout the cyborgs armor, and will highlight them via visor HUD. You will need to switch to higher caliber lethal rounds and aim for non-vital areas to disable only if suspect continues to resist...”

Chief TreVayne paced back and forth, crossing his arms as he continued skimming through the cyborg’s bio readouts on the large holographic image in front of him.

“And if this thing likes to run, then let’s see how well she runs with her knees blown to hell. TreVayne out.”

SecCom erupted with chatter, and the next several moments was a cacophony of communication exchanges between central dispatch and the six field Agents chosen to regroup and make their way to the target location. The ARX45 Security droids -deployed and and programmed with specific protocols by NO4H- emerged from their holding areas hidden behind false walls that were scattered throughout the Vitae. The two needed were closest to the target zone and made it to the bulkhead doors, positioning themselves as instructed, a minute or two prior to the field Agents arrival.

Meanwhile, the cameras from inside the room showed unrest. The cyborg made a few fast walks around the room’s perimeter, touching the walls at certain points as if to try and listen to someone on the other side. Eventually she stopped in front of a wall, climbed it to about two meters of height, and clung it for some time. A panel detached from the wall and slid down it, while she pushed her arm into the resulting hole. A second later, the room was in darkness, all video feed of the perpetrator lost.

“One moment, switching to emergency power,” NO4H hadn’t even finished that sentence and the feed returned, in greenish light, showing the cyborg walking around the room again. She stopped at a different point, repeated the process, and the video feed gradually disappeared again. Her vitals and heat signature remained on the Vitae’s map, but the room was now a dead zone to observation. The security chief’s monitors used to viewing the room’s interior switched to its exits, and the congregation of security forces in front of one of them. The video feed also vanished from the HUDs of the security officers outside.

The room was now officially a killzone.



“She’s a persistent pain in the ass to say the least.” Gavon shook his head and smirked, watching the visual layouts switch from video to thermal imaging, giving off mostly layered patterns of blue and a few warming tones that outlined her physical form. “But enough theatrics, Noah open a two-way comm channel within that room, provided the audio is still in tact.”

“Affirmative, audio capabilities are at within acceptable parameters. Opening channel now, Sir.”

“This is Chief of Security Gavon TreVayne...” The digital sound crackled slightly as it echoed throughout the secured room holding the female cyborg. “...currently our Security team has your position surrounded and will be engaging to detain you for further investigation and questioning. I need you to cease and desist any further action that may be considered hostile, or we will be forced to use lethal means. Do you understand?”

“Mr. TreVayne…” The cyborg’s harsh, heavily accented voice emanated from the speakers in the chief’s office. The thermal sensors showed her form affixed roughly in front of the door that separated her from the security force prepared to apprehend her. “Do you realize, hah, that my only motive was to converse with you?” Her voice was slow, careful, with underlying threat. Like a cornered snake. “Please review the path I made from Engineering to this room, and consider the relevant engagements with impromptu security, and their results. This is the size of the bureaucracy buffer between you and the field. All of this could have been avoided if your men had passed the message.”

“Anyway, I would happily be interrogated,” she said after a pause, “And will cooperate with your security forces as long as they don’t give me a reason not to. I am being honest. As a show of trust, I shall tell you a few things: One - the security force you have prepared cannot prevent at least one casualty, if I choose to turn this into Kami-Kaze. Two - I have been awake for over eighteen hours and may require recharging very soon. This gives you a number of choices. You may apprehend me right now, wait out my reserves and capture me while I sleep, or put up heavy weapons behind that door to destroy me along with this room. Having said that, I offer you to make a return gesture of trust - have your men apprehend me with lowered weapons.”

“It interferes with my concentration, and technically my only crime is stowing away and daydreaming on the job. And maybe a slightly dented helmet. I await your decision, Mr. TreVayne.”

“Your ‘only crime’?” The chief retorted, scoffing at the cyborgs absurd demands and skewed idea of trust.

“You do realize that you’ve not only slipped onto a highly secure military and civilian vessel bound for deep space with a fraudulent identification, but you’ve managed to resist arrest, completely ignoring a Security officer’s right to detain you under suspicions that I shouldn't have to list for you. And you’ve taken it upon yourself to dig an even bigger hole by evading law enforcement authorities, possibly putting the lives of this ship’s crew in jeopardy all because you wanted an audience with me?”

The Chief’s voice, rife with an underlying anger that had the potential to erupt into something even less desirable, ceased for a moment as he composed himself, speaking with his usual calm but stern voice.

“And as for your request to ‘apprehend with weapons lowered’, that just isn’t going to happen as we’re not in the business of compromising with clear and present threats. As I initially mentioned, you will cease and desist, allowing my team to detain you as per Ark Security protocol, or your resistance will be considered an act of aggression and will be dealt with accordingly. Do I make myself understood? This is not up for negotiation. You have two minutes to comply. TreVayne out.”

Gavon gritted his teeth as he cut off communication, doing his best to keep personal feelings out of the decision to apprehend, versus his own judgement of simply destroying such an abomination without even thinking twice about it. But the rational part of him needed to know what he was dealing with, and whether the cyborg was indeed friend or foe.

The map still showed the cyborg in the same location in front of the door. She turned her head towards the general direction of the room’s PA speaker, the thermal scan on TreVayne’s screen missing the slight look of disbelief contorting her features. The anger in the chief’s voice didn’t fit with his words - he either didn’t hear most of what she said, or was simply too curious to destroy her on the spot. The question was, could she return the favor?

“This is not an attempt at negotiation.” she said, turning back towards the door. Her attempt at showing trust had always meant to be one-sided. “Please proceed as you see fit. I will try not to resist.”

Try not to resist. The word slipped her tongue while she focused on just that. The weaponization algorithms she could barely keep in check faced with two hesitant officers with pistols; how would they react to a fully armed company with what felt like droids, at short range? The only way to control such a large amount of sensors and actuators, in combat situations, was to let prediction algorithms nudge her in the right direction whenever she was under threat. The alternative, turning them completely off, meant most of her concentration would be spent on actually moving, leaving her defenseless.

The cyborg looked at her hands, covered in dark metallic gauntlets that enhanced her strength to a point where she could rip a man apart. Taking off some of the armor was also an option, if worse came to worse. That “lowered weapons” request was a false hope anyway. If she was to work with these people, she’d have to learn to be near them...

Chaos.

Amara wasn't sure what she had expected during the exodus of the Sol system but for some reason she just hadn't expected the panic that seemed to course through the people aboard the Vitae ark. The more she thought about it though, the more she wondered why she hadn't expected such a thing. These people were in the process of leaving the only home they had ever known, aboard a city sized spaceship, for destinations unknown while an alien race bent on their utter destruction simultaneously chased them and annihilated the rest of the human race left behind.

The more she thought about it, the more she wondered why she didn't feel like that.

Until she did.

She had been running on pure adrenaline. Even before the launch, she could feel the adrenaline coursing through her. Given everything that was going on, it was understandable. During the launch, she was kept busy with patients, running around without a second to think about anything else. When the devastators attacked, all she could think about was helping whoever needed her. She didn't have the time to stop and think about what was happening outside the ship because there was simply too much going on inside.

It was only now, while she stood alone in an elevator that she had a moment to stop and think. There was still blood on her hands from her last patient. During the warp jump he had stumbled and fallen, cracking his head on a console as he went. It seemed such a random and stupid injury, considering everything else that was going on. But there was significant trauma and his brain was already beginning to swell. There was a chance he wouldn't make it. When Amara had left him with Doc Jakande and his staff in the med bay. He had assured her that the patient would be fine but the look of concern he gave her said otherwise.

Devastators.

All of their weapons and strength. All the things that could possibly happen on this adventure...and a bump to the head could kill this man. Such a small thing that made Amara stop and think about how easily someone could be taken away. It made her realize that everything about what they were doing here was dangerous. It made her think about death and everyone that had died to ensure that she and everyone aboard this ship could live. She thought about the possibilities of what might happen. What might have already happened to people she cared about while she was elsewhere.

All of it hit her at once and she could barely contain her heartbreak. She felt a lump form in her throat and her eyes begin to fill with tears but did her best to keep them where they were. ”Don't cry, damn it!” she thought to herself as the elevator doors whooshed open.

She barely thought about where she was or where she was going as she stepped out onto the bridge of the Vitae with her eyes locked on the ground. She stopped for a brief moment as people scurried around her, rushing from one console to another. She heard voices, yelling for reports and status updates. No one paid her any attention. They were all too busy to even notice her.

Slowly, Amara raised her head to look around until she spotted him and forgot to breath for a second. The air caught in her throat and caused her to gasp slightly as she watched her father. She forced her mouth shut, almost hurting herself with how tightly she clenched her jaw but in the process lost control of all that emotion built up in her eyes and she felt a tear escape.

Never show weakness. It was a philosophy she lived by. But when she saw the old man, saw that he was alright, she simply couldn't control herself. She was so relieved.

She stood there, watching him, eyes wide and desperately trying not to lose it entirely.

William stood poring through reports from Security, Engineering, Production and almost every system there was that could make a report. He rubbed his face, covering up his eye as he did so before lowering his hand again. He brushed the eye patch on the way down as a silent reminder. At least he didn’t lose another eye in his second ever engagement against the Devastators. Having casualty reports was never a good sign though, the manual docking had caused the ship to shake more than predicted. They weren’t looking at any deaths yet but that was apparently a possibility they had to prepare for. He sighed, it had been a long day. He turned to Joanne, “Commander, you have the con.”

“Aye Sir, I have the con.” With that he turned to leave, he was in need of a shower and a bite to eat. Maybe a stiff drink. He turned and walked up out of the pit and as he looked at the door he smiled as he saw Amara standing there waiting, watching him apparently.

“Amara!” He raised both his arms out in a welcoming gesture. “You have perfect timing, the Commander just took the con until the relief crew takes over for the night. You eaten yet?”

Amara forced a small smile onto her face as her father approached, suddenly desperate to not look like a complete wreck. He was the one person she normally felt like she could be completely open with but in that moment, surrounded by all these people, she tried to bottle it all back up again. She was relieved when he embraced her in a hug. For a brief moment, she felt like a little girl again, wrapped in her fathers arms. That was always her safe place. When he was with her, she couldn't be hurt. She wrapped her arms around him and held onto him, hoping the blood on her hands had finally dried and she wouldn't stain his uniform.

As she dug her chin gently into his shoulder, she held onto the hug a fraction of a second longer than she really should have. Half to just enjoy it, relieved as she was that she could still do it, and half to give herself time to regain her composure.

When she finally pulled away, she had regained her normally stoic look with the slightest hint of a smile curling up the corners of her mouth. She held onto his arms as she looked up at him, pondering his question for a second. It was only then that she realized she hadn't eaten all day. She was too busy. Too amped. Too afraid.

As though her entire body had just come to the same realisation that her brain had come to, she felt hunger set in. Her stomach churned from it, making her feel slightly nauseated. But she didn't let that show either. Instead, she simply smiled at her father and answered “I could eat.”

William chuckled as she let go and answered to his question, indicating for them to leave the bridge. “I’m sure we can find something to your particular tastes. You were always into the more exotic foods than I am, I guess I’m just old fashioned.” He turned down a side corridor, a guard following his movements. He knew it was a necessity especially as he wasn’t just in charge of the ship but he was a figurehead and a rallying figure for everyone aboard. Though due to his training in the special forces he almost constantly had alarm bells going off in his head every time he noticed him out of the corner of his eye. That was probably why he was standing on his left side, so that William could see him. Good guy.

“It’s been an interesting day, we’ve fought the biggest Devastator ship we’ve ever seen, been swarmed by fighters and we’ve had some form of experimental stowaway in engineering. Hell, if it was busy today it’s going to be worse tomorrow with all the reports coming in.” As they entered the transit system and he sat down on the bus, moving to ensure that she had plenty of room to sit next to him he turned to her. “What about you? Busy day?”

These were the moments he fought for, had Amara not been in the picture he probably wouldn’t even have taken the assignment. Though him being here ensured that she was here, and that she had a future no matter what happened. He had tried to convince her to go in cryo, after all there was no telling how long they’d be drifting through the vastness of space and he didn’t want that for her. Though she was as stubborn as her mother and wanted to help people so here she was. At least this way they could have these moments, almost normal. He had always valued them on the run up to the launch but now he realized just how truly special they were.

Amara's light smile seemed to fade to nothing as he told her about everything he had dealt with. She had gotten some of the details from Deacon already, not to mention the general scuttlebutt that was being passed throughout the ship as they went, but she hadn't realised the immensity of the Devastator ship until William confirmed that it was the largest they had ever seen.

When he asked how her day had been, she hesitated for a brief second before replying “Pretty busy...But it's nothing compared to everything you've had to deal with today.”

And she believed that. Everything going on outside of her own little world was so much bigger. The most she had to worry about was losing a patient or two. Her father had to worry about the fate of the entire human race. She decided not to gripe about her own mental anguish. Instead, as they sat together in transit to wherever the hell they were going, Amara simply wrapped her arms around William's much larger arm and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I'm proud of you dad.” she said with a smile. “You may be getting old but you're still kind of a bad ass.”

The transport slowed as they approached the hub. “Every job on this ship is important-” He turned to look at her “-And everything you do is even more so, at least to me. Fathers privilege.” On the old comment he gave her a false look of disdain, and spoke in a voice as if insulted. It was obviously put on, though that was largely for effect more than anything.

“Old? Why did you need to ruin a perfectly good compliment.” He chuckled slightly as he remembered something. “You know your Grandfather used to have a saying. You’re not old until you have grandchildren. So you can imagine how me and your mother broke the news that you were going to be born to him. We told him he was finally an old man.” He paused as he thought of Amanda, while he had grown close to Rita over the past couple of years Amanda and Amara were always first in his heart and it still pained him to think about how they lost her. It was a difficult time for everyone when they realized they weren’t alone in the universe anymore, and they lost her to illness.

Life was a bitch like that.

“So unless you have something to tell me, you can’t call me old. Not yet anyway.” He stood up as the doors of the transport opened. “Anywhere in particular you feel like eating?”

“Pulp Kitchen.” Amara responded almost before the last syllable of William's sentence had left his mouth. She hadn't even thought about it. Her mouth just blurted it out before her brain had time to react. She even took herself by surprise. “I mean...If it's okay with you.” she added, quietly, as she got to her feet.

Pulp Kitchen was Amara's absolute favorite place to eat in the Hub. The food was surprisingly tasty, despite more often than not looking awful. It was comfort food and right now, the one thing she needed more than anything was comfort food. She thought about making a joke about “eating for two” but realised that her dad would probably think she was being serious. Amara's jokes usually had such deadpan delivery that people more often than not misinterpreted them.

But the whole subject of kids made her think. She had never really planned to become a mother. But in the situation the human race now found themselves in, maybe she would have to. It was the future of the entire human race they were talking about after all.

But that was a concern for the future. Probably the distant future if her current success with the opposite sex continued. A glance in her father's direction made her feel awkward about such thoughts though and she focussed her attention on thoughts of food as she took the old man by the hand and led him off the transport.

“Watch your step, Admiral.” she commented. “We don't want you breaking a hip.”

“If the foods good enough for it to be thought of instantly, I’m sure it’s fine. I mean, back when I was running Stealth Ops for the Martians I ate nothing but-”

“Potatoes.” Amara blurted out, cutting him off and adopting a deep voice in an attempt to mimic him. “Baked, boiled, mashed. You even grew your own in that harsh, Martian soil.”

“-Okay. I get it, I like telling stories. When you get to my age-” He offered her a scowl. “-Which isn’t old. You’ll have a fair share of war stories too. Hopefully not many of them will be actual war stories.” He accepted her hand as they walked off the transport, choosing to ignore the breaking a hip joke. The day he was that fragile was the day the stars would come of his shoulders and he’d sit and paint all day reminiscing the good old days. Sure he knew that this voyage could actually take that long but that was just part of the job, he could be in command of these people for years.

He let himself be carried away by the crowd as they entered the hub, the noise, music and the smells were an assault to the senses. He knew people who loved to spend their day here, it made them feel like they were home. To him it just felt strange, he had never been to the Citadel so a civilian establishment like this inside a ship was a brand new concept to him. Not to mention he wasn’t exactly fond of cities either. The only reason he had stayed in Arcadia so long was to look after Amara once her mother had died.

“I’ll tell you what though, just because you’re my favourite medic this meal will be on me-” despite the fact that Pulp Kitchen was one of the few establishments where the food constituted as part of your regular rations and you got it for free. Though that was the whole joke. “-Just this once though. I can’t have the other officers thinking I’ve gone soft.”

“What do you mean?” asked Amara. “Everyone already knows you’re a big, soft teddy bear. I started that rumor years ago.” She smiled and gave him a gentle tap on the shoulder. “That eye patch is fooling no one.”

They continued to walk and talk until they reached their destination. The outside of Pulp Kitchen didn’t look like much. It was a lot like the food they served in that way. But the inside was beautiful. To Amara anyway. Rows of picnic tables ran through the center of the room, with booths lining the walls. The bottom half of those walls looked like wooden fencing while the top half and the ceiling were decorated to look like a starry night, with twinkling lights and all. The main focal point of the room, however, was the huge screen on the far wall, hanging over the bar area. The whole place had an atmosphere that Amara loved. It almost made her forget that they were hurtling through space after abandoning the solar system to alien invaders.

And apparently quite a few others agreed. The place was quickly filling up. Amara couldn’t blame people for wanting to come here. They wanted a reminder of the home they had lost.

“Admiral!” Someone practically yelled. William and Amara turned to see a mature lady heading their way. Amara had eaten here enough to know Eliza, the unofficial hostess of Pulp Kitchen. Despite her age, Eliza had surprisingly few wrinkles blemishing her dark skin. Amara wished she looked half as good when she reached Eliza’s age.

As though embarrassed by her sudden outburst, Eliza quickly adopted a quieter tone and said “We didn’t expect to see you in our neck of the woods today.” She beamed at them both and gave Amara’s arm a gentle caress. That was the other reason Amara liked coming here. Eliza was like a doting mother to everyone she met. Amara had literally never met a nicer person.

“Table for two?” Eliza asked before glancing over William’s shoulder at the guard hovering a few feet behind them and adding “Or three?”

William turned back to his escort. “That’ll do Jenkins. Have a break I’ll contact you when we’re leaving.”

“Sir…”

“That’s an order Private, go have some fun.” Jenkins offered a brisk salute.

“Yes sir.” Turning around and leaving after William returned the salute. He took a proper look around the nice little establishment, it had a very quaint and rustic feel unlike many of the other places in the hub. He hadn’t been to many places tending to stick to ‘The Mess’ which was run by ex-military predominantly for Military personnel, not that they discouraged civilians going in just not many chose to go in in lieu for more comfortable places to eat. Though the conversation in the mess was the most exciting, not that he heard most of it. Mouths tend to close whenever he entered a room full of military personnel, the burden of command. Though he always got a good chat out of the owners, no this place was a nice change of pace.

“Table for two, thank you very much.” As Eliza began escorting them to the table William indicated for Amara to take the lead. “I have to say, I’ve heard people talking about this place and have been meaning to visit it myself but have never had the time. I can see why people have been talking.” He nodded at a couple of people as they noticed him and went to stand, before he shook his head that was.

Sitting down at the table he smiled at Amara. “Time to eat.”

William and Amara sat at a booth near the bar and Eliza took their order. The food arrived in front of them at a much quicker speed than was usual for the kitchen and Amara wondered if it was because of her father's status. She made a mental note to eat here with him more often. She did feel bad for all the people who had to wait longer though.

As they ate and talked, Amara almost began to forget about her worries. But as if the universe itself was calling her back to reality, the datapad on her wrist made a ding sound that she was all too familiar with. It meant she was being called back to work. She had slightly underestimated how busy she would be on the Vitae. Which was a silly mistake to make. This ship was the size of a large city after all.

She had taken out her earpiece communicator so at least Deacon wasn't talking in her ear this time, making some smartass comment and calling her Princess. A title he had given her after finding out her father was “king of the ship” in his words. It was not a name she particularly liked but she had given up on trying to get him to stop calling her it. She knew it was only a matter of time before he was blabbering away like always.

Ding went the datapad again and Amara rolled her eyes and groaned at Deacon's impatience. Couldn't he at least let her finish her meal? She knew she couldn't stay though and that thought ruined her good mood.

“I'm sorry dad.” she said with a sigh. “Work's never done...I have to go.”

Amara reluctantly got up from her seat and as she passed William she bent down and kissed him on the cheek. “Love you. Tell Eliza I said bye.”

William crossed his knife and fork on the plate as he placed his arm round Amaras shoulder as she leaned down to kiss his cheek. “It’s the consequence of being brilliant.” He turned his wrist up to check his old analogue style wristwatch, he liked to keep things simple sometimes. Besides it looked a lot better than the fancy ones that acted as a microcomputer that had been all the craze on Mars in lieu of the implants most other people got.

Amara was quickly making her way to the door then, popping her earpiece back in and immediately regretting it. “I'm on it. Quit your complaining Deac.”

Admiral William Lockes Study
0700HRS Local Ship Time

It had been a long 24 Hours that was for sure, this time yesterday they were still in pre-flight going through final checks and ensuring that every system was ready. Today he was going through status reports for almost every section on the ship, signing off on paperwork from fuel reports to ration movement requests. There was always a lot of paperwork involved in commanding a ship, this was something else entirely. Especially now as far as this sect of humanity was concerned he was in charge of all of them. Even now he sat behind the desk in his study, the coffee table in the middle of the room was all set up for his meeting later but he still had business to attend to before then.

He pushed one file to the side regarding the security breach that happened yesterday, deciding to deal with it at a later time. The suspect was in lockup, so it wasn’t a top priority at the moment. Realizing the time he opened a drawer on his desk and pulled out a bottle of bourbon that he had there, recovered from the bridge thanks to some helpful Ensigns and the assistance of Noah. He was going to need it for his next meeting, after all so long as he wasn’t late Colonel Anderson shouldn’t be far away.

Theodore awoke to the sound of his alarm clock blaring the most annoying sound across the room. His entire body felt like it had gone through a blender and a mixer at the same time. Atleast he didn’t have a headache so that was at least something positive to think about. Theodore rolled of his bed onto the metal floor. The smack partially waking him up. He sluggishly pulled himself up and gave the clock a firm slap ending it’s hellish sound. He yawned and stretched himself and walked towards the shower. He took his damn time washing himself, taking at least 10 minutes. After finally dressing himself proper he took a look at his datapad to see if Leroy had messaged him.

To his surprise however he saw only one message on his pad.The message had come from Noah and it described that the admiral was expecting him at 0700 hours. Currently it was 0650. Theodore’s sleepiness disappeared like snow melting in the sun. He jumped from his bed and quickly made himself presentable. Considering he did not wanna piss of rear admiral cyclops. In 5 minutes he was fully ready and walked towards the admiral’s office in a quick manner. He kinda looked like an idiot but a lot of people were still asleep and those that were awake barely paid attention to him. As he arrived at the admiral’s quarters he saw a guard standing in front of the door. He approached the guard, did a simple salute and showed the man the message he had received. After a quick look over the door opened and Theodore entered the belly of the beast. At least that’s how it felt that way.

William didn’t look up from his paperwork as Anderson entered the room, he took a quick glance at the clock. Almost late, not quite. It was a power play. “Take a seat Colonel.” He reached back into his drawer and took out a single glass, pushing it over to Theodores side of the desk. “Can I interest in a drink?” It was a trick question of course, but then he could always take the bait.

Theodore pondered the question for a bit as he slightly leaned back into the chair. He had a feeling if he took a glass a certain form of liquor would be filled in it. Plus he had just woken up and while he did indeed have a certain drinking problem he didn’t exactly like drinking in the morning. It made his head fuzzie and would give him even bigger headaches. “ Thank you sir but i must decline the drink. I rather dislike drinking in the morning. I usually do it in evenings.” He knew he was gonna get screamed at for the bourbon but he wasn’t gonna make it that easy for the man.

“Fair enough, so I assume that this bottle being on the bridge at your station was only a mere accident and not an indication that you had plans to drink it while at your station?” He picked up the bottle and examined it. “I’m not a bourbon fan, more of a Scotch man myself but this bottle probably won’t exactly be cheap. Especially before we left Earth.” He slid the bottle back across the desk towards Theodore as he picked up his mug of coffee taking a small sip. “Which is why I’m giving it back to you. Though it stays out of the bridge, and you never go near that bridge again with the intent to go under the influence or while under the influence, am I understood?”

That goddam cyclops bastard. He wasn’t exactly surprised when he saw the bourbon on his desk. He already knew that he wasn’t gonna get it back though. Though he was surprised how quickly the admiral had spotted the value of the drink itself. Apparently he had some experience when it came to alcohol as well. Though when the bottle was slit back towards him it did make him raise an eyebrow of surprise. He did have a point though. Drinking while on duty was just a disaster waiting to happen. And while he was gonna miss drinking that sweet stuff he would still be able to fly at least.” Yes sir understood.”

“Good, if you have a problem I expect you to say something. We do have psychiatrists on board. You wouldn’t be the first, nor will you be the last.” He closed the drawer after placing the glass back in it. “Though now we’ve got that settled, and you know that if this happens again you’ll get more than a warning we can move onto the next piece of business.”

“ Business sir? I thought the only reason you called me was to give me a warning.”
“I’m not going to call you to my office at this time to just give you a warning. That’s what an XO is for.” He pointed at the model of the Nightfury “What do you think? That’s the Nightfury my previous command. State of the art Martian Stealth ship, one hell of a fine vessel and one of a kind. She formed the template for the Reaper-Class. You’ll have seen that in person I’m sure, down in the bay. I’d be surprised if a pilot like yourself could avoid taking a look at it, it’s a fine piece of machinery and more importantly it’s your first chance to see a Martian ship up close and personal.”

Theodore had indeed spotted the model of the Nightfury.He had always flown heavily armoured ships and stealth tech was new to him since roslin never really had the tech. He had never personally flown a Martian ship. Though he knew there designs where more advanced and better than the Roslin counterpart. Then again the Martians might have had the tech but they never really had the number advantage. He had also taken a quick glance at her in dock at least a few times since he had arrived in the ark.” I do admit that i did look a few times sir. You Martians always had the better tech and it shows in your designs. Luckily for us however we had the numbers.”

William scowled at the man. “We were never at war, so luckily we both had skills and designs that the other lacked so that when the Devastators came knocking we could put up a reasonable fight once we joined together. Though let’s not get into that.” He pulled out a file and slid it across the desk to Theodore. “You’re not needed to report to the bridge till 1800HRS tomorrow evening, for preparations in the ship dropping out of hyperspace. Obviously this is just a formality as we’re going to need to spend some time figuring out where we are and where local astronomical bodies are that can be of any use to us. Anyway.” He took another sip from his cup of coffee before continuing.

“The point is we’re going to be sending away teams in the Nyx, be it into interesting astronomical bodies or down to planets to perform experiments or simply to take a look at the scenery. As the most experienced officer with Capital Ship experience you’re going to be in charge of the Nyx on these missions, and all her crew including ground teams though for that you’ll work in conjunction with Chief TreVayne. Doctor Anderson and Mr.Karlson will also join you, we’re busy setting up a lab on the Nyx for them to work from. I’m in a meeting with them later.” He paused, concentrating on Theodore with his one good eye.

“This is a big responsibility, if you’re not up for it I can have another pilot assigned and I can have someone else lead the team. Though everyone on this crew is going to be tested sooner or later and in this case I’m testing you sooner. You up for this son?”
Theodore didn't know how to respond in all honesty. A part of him was surprised by the offer considering the mistake he had made. Another part of him was scared shitless by the fact he was given command of a Martian stealth ship that he had never flown before. Then there was the emotion of pride that he was chosen to lead such an important part of the ship. He looked at the files for a moment and looked at them in more detail reading everything he could get from it. He was gonna need some help adjusting to flying a martian vessel that was sure. But for the rest he needed no help whatsoever. He looked up at the admiral with a wolfish grin on his face.

“ Sir you just opened the candy pot for me. I will happily accept your proposal. Though i will need more information about the ship itself. And i will need to adjust myself to the controls. Since i have had the pleasure of flying a martian vessel. Though i have to ask sir. Why me? Beside the fact that i can fly big ships.”

“You can ask why you, though at the end of the day you don’t necessarily need to know why I make the decisions I do, hm?” He leant back in his chair with his chin in his left hand. “All you need to know is that I think you’re the particular man for the job-” Even though he had just been told of for having alcohol at his station, though given the circumstances he could let that slide for once. Not to mention every officer worth his salt had broken a rule at some point or another, no. At most for that he’d need to keep an eye on his first couple of missions. “-and that’s all. In terms of flying she should be easy enough, I do have a Martian Officer who is going to be assigned to your command crew with experience in stealth tech to manage that aspect.”

He reached over and flipped the file to a certain page. “All you need to know is what this page says, stealth systems are a power drain so don’t expect to get much movement while using them. At least not if you want to keep your engine running. We’ve got simulators set up for training, not to mention you can always go and familiarize yourself with the actual ship. I advise you get some time in before you’re needed on the bridge. Unless you have anymore questions, you’re dismissed.”

“ No sir, no questions at all.” He stood up and gave a salute and walked of mumbling something just loud enough for the admiral to hear.“ Here's hoping we don’t reappear inside a planet.”He then closed the door behind him and immediately called Leeroy who responded in his usual complaining ways.” Hey Leeroy guess who just got promoted?”

William sat on one of the sofas, the other sat facing him with a table between the two. All around the room, which held the same steely feel as the rest of the room, were bookcases and various display cabinets. Most filled with various trinkets given to the Vitae from various sources across the world, the only item in this room that truly belonged to him (other than a fine bottle of Scotch Whisky) was a model of the Nightfury on the desk behind him. Given to him by his peers when he had to step down in order to devote his time to Amara it was a memento of to this day, what he considered to be one hell of a ship. The Reaper-Class, while based off of the design, just wasn’t the same as his old girl.

In the room with him sat Kevin Ford, Karen Anderson and Erik Karlson - probably the closest thing he had to experts on anything alien. “I’m sure by now anyone who recognises anyone else in the room has figured out why I asked you here. Though I’ll talk my way through it to be sure.” He lifted up the small metallic mug off the table and took a sip of coffee out of it, just a small sip. There was only so much Earth grown coffee left in existence, and while he was Martian born and bred he had to admit when it came to growing coffee the people from Earth knew where it was at. “We’re currently passing through hyperspace into uncharted waters, so to speak, and to this day we’ve only encountered one alien race and they weren’t exactly friendly. I’m sure you all know this.”

He lowered his mug back to the table before he continued. “We’re going to face aliens out there, some sentient some not so much. You three are here as our foremost expert in terms of linguistics-” He nodded at Erik “-Xenobiology-” at Karen “-And finally diplomacy. You’re going to be incredibly important which is why I’m going to organize these meetings once a week and with the exception of Kevin-” He turned to the man “-Who I need to talk to about something else. I’m going to give you both your own departments, I’ll have resumes sent to you before the end of the day of people wanting to join your new departments. On Earth the higher ups didn’t feel it was necessary but I’d rather be prepared which is why I am doing this now that it’s my call. Doctor Anderson, don’t worry about Eden you can still pitch in there whenever you want. Any questions?”

With a bit of visible relief on her face, Karen decided to carry the discussion to the area that was probably most important. “Thank you, Admiral, and I do have a key question. What do you, personally, already know about the aliens and our fields? I don’t think any of us intend to make you an expert, but informed decisions are better decisions, right?” Karen absentmindedly took a sip of her own coffee, and immediately regretted it, as the drink had never appealed to her.

“I know about as much as anyone with brass on their shoulders does. They utilize some form of biologically designed armour and can pack one hell of a punch-” He raised his hand to his eyepatch “-I’ve seen them in action Doctor. I’ve done the research, or at least as much as can be done. Obviously we don’t know everything about them, hell they never transmitted anything to us before until yesterday.” He nodded at Erik. “As Mister Karlson well knows having been the one to study the message. Let me be clear on one thing though. The Devastators won’t remain the focus for long, I’m pretty sure we’ll meet something new soon enough. Which is why I want to ask if you two are happy to be cleared for away missions to planets. I know that the first planet we come across is unlikely to be our new home but it could always have something we need. Having you two on the Nyx where you can easily deploy would be beneficial. I already have teams building a makeshift lab aboard for you.” He took another sip of his coffee.

“Doctor, any request to bring any alien life on board will be solely in your hands. We have labs with containment cells already set up onboard, those are going to be your labs if you know the ones I’m talking about. Down in sector 9 near the main bio-labs.”

At this point Erik chimed in. “I am infinitely grateful, Admiral, for the privilege not only of having a staff to help me, but to be given the opportunity to engage with alien language firsthand.” He paused, considering something. “Perhaps it might also be helpful to assign me someone with a more…technical, knowledge. I think beginning work on some kind of universal translator might be good. As we encounter more and more languages, we could give some manner of AI practice in deciphering them without my help. Which eventually make me obsolete, but hopefully I can teach the next generation about old-world language when they… wake up.” He smiled at the Admiral.

Then, he turned to Ford. “Mr. Ford, I don’t suppose you could grant me access to the part of the archives where - “ he broke off, pulling out a sheet of paper. “-information and dictionaries on Mandarin, Hindi, Swahili, Farsi, Portuguese, Japanese, and Indonesian? It would be helpful in discerning the rest of the Devastator’s message.”

(the Spectre is unavailable for an undisclosed period of time as such I, Sep, will be puppeting him)

William turned to Ford as he nodded “Feel free Mr.Karlson, at the Admirals request-” He raised his arm pointing at William “-We’ve set up an office near the Archives for you and have given you clearance to copy or remove materials as you need them.”

William nodded. “While I can assign someone of technological, or more accurately programming expertise, in fact two people come to mind when thinking about making advanced programs. However bear in mind that it is unlikely that if we encounter more than one species that their languages will be similar to anything we have ever heard before. So prepare to be frustrated.”

He nodded at Karen. “Such as you Doctor Anderson shouldn’t expect all alien life we encounter to be like anything we’ve seen. I propose as a liaison between your two departments I am going to assign Michael Smith-” He slid two copies of his portfolio across the table. He of course knew it was false, one of the few people aboard who knew of Michaels true identity. “-He doesn’t have a PhD but he’s got an amazing IQ and is some kind of prodigy, soaks up information like a sponge. Any more questions? I’m sure you have a lot you want to get done.”

Karen flipped open the portfolio, and her eyebrows raised as she recognized the picture. “Oh, I believe I’ve managed to already meet him, although I’m afraid we didn’t discuss much. Also, I am quite well aware that we almost certainly will not be encountering life similar to that on Earth. That’s what separates us from our non-xeno counterparts, after all - being open to ideas that would be absurd on Earth.”

She then turned her head to the admiral, as she closed the portfolio on her lap. “Currently, I don’t technically need any staff, but I will need to be shown through how the containment units work, and have enough staff to keep the place watched constantly, ideally by at least two pairs of eyes at a time. We wouldn’t want some strange, dangerous life form wandering the ship, and I wouldn’t want to leave it behind.” She stifled a yawn, covering it almost daintily with her hand. “Speaking of which, once we have specimens, the place should have dedicated guards as well, if not already.”

Erik spoke up again. “Of course I understand the difficulties of learning completely unique alien languages, that’s the whole purpose of the program. The idea would be to have software that could figure out a completely unique language without human input. Computer learning, in a restricted sort of way.”

He turned back to Ford. “Thank you for allowing me an office, I shall make use of it for sure.”

William raised took another drink from his mug. “You’re both getting staffs now, so you can get them set up the way you want and get them trained on anything they need trained before the time comes.” He turned to Erik. “I will send someone your way when I can spare him to look into making this program, though even if we complete it I’d like to keep the human element.” He stood up from the sofa.

“However we are all busy people, I am sure once you arrive at your new office and lab respectively-” He indicated to Erik and Karen in turn “-You will have questions and requests once things are set up. Feel free to point them at Noah as he knows the proper route of communication for requests for heads of departments. That said if you ever need my assistance my door is always, figuratively, open. Thank you for your time, though I am afraid I have other duties to attend to.”

The four of them dispersed in silence and in thought, leaving behind only three empty mugs of coffee, and one barely touched.

Edit: Pretend this is a flashback post as I didn't realize we jumped when I wrote it, and it doesn't directly affect anyone else's actions.

---

There was an eerie and unerring calm about the Chief of Engineering as he stepped back into the locale of his title's namesake. Humanity had officially come to an end--save but for a few hundred thousand individual souls--everything about his race had been washed away in a baptism of fire. Despite this he seemed almost at peace in the midst of the ensuing chaos being well orchestrated by his co-chief.

Humanity had been dying for a long time. Longer than the existence of the devastators was revealed, through one means or another, it had efficiently set itself upon a course of early extinction. Though gruesome, it brought with it a sense of finality to that which the singularity started. An end to the existential, and in all to many cases, very real suffering wrought by humanity's reaction to it. However it, being the devastator's destruction of Earth, also set the small remnants of humanity on the path of war and revenge. A restless path for any who walk it. And walk it they would.

Not wishing to interrupt his co-chief in the performance of her duties Xaith refrained at the door frame silently as he arrived. As the situation in engineering escalated, and the cyborg exploded out of engineering, dashing right past him with security hot on her trail, he could only look to Lt. Rorq for answers. The lieutenant whom was fuming when she shouted at the either over stressed, or under-intelligent civilian technician who had piped one of their co-workers.

"YOU!" she shouted, and all of engineering trembled before the fury for which hell hath nothing like, "SECURITY. NOW." To which the civilian technician dropped the pipe and proceeded to perform the walk of shame to the civil detainment cubicle and await the security lockouts before presenting himself for adjudication. "Everyone else listen up! We're in the middle of a goddamn space battle and I expect some fucking professionalism!"

The Chief watched the orchestration of the masses be excited with a level of precision--that he simply lacked the care to evolve--while the Lieutenant barked orders. "Push those shields to 120%. Compensate for the heat by re-routing coolant, and shunt power from the evacuated sectors of the Hub to boost the gain and confinement." Management and providing direction was what she was hired to do, and she did it well when there wasn't a distractions impeding the order she maintained. For the Sargent First Class it was all very tiring to watch, and he instead busied himself with more interesting things.

"Administrator..." the word was not spoken, but came through the Xaith's EEGARD heads up display trough a priority channel. "A development has occurred in the Ark's electro-spectral analysis of the ongoing combat." Xaith acknowledged the call with merely a glance in the direction of S.A.S.H.A.'s hail, and pushed the thought to her to proceed through electroencephalographic detection matrix. After a report was produced he understood just what 'development' meant. He did note the complexity of the armoring and structural design as shadowed in the wake of the kinetic, eletromagnetic, and atomic castoff patterns that dispersed from the impact; but couldn't readily identify the primary material it was made of. He had an expert metallurgist on staff whose panties would get wet just thinking about it.

When the Lieutenant finally reigned back in the chaos in her own house, did she notice the chief standing by, and did he take a moment of her time. "Rorq," Xaith called over in a surprisingly non-judgmental tone since the situation was hers to manage. "There's something you need to see." SFC Calhound said as he slid his glasses down his nose while Lt. Rorq leaned in for inspection. "That's impossible..." she said at the cross comparison to mineralogical and histologist examinations that Noah had run, at S.A.S.H.A.'s request, with Xaith's clearance codes.

"Obviously not," countered Xaith, who was in turn countered by Rorq, "We don't have time for this." The Sargent pulled rank as Chief Engineer. "You will make the time Lieutenant. Tensions are high, and even though we're in the middle of a battle, a majority of these systems run themselves, and now at peak efficiency thanks to your tireless dedication. I will take over engineering while you take this data to medical." To the lieutenant's exasperated protests Xaith realized what had just happened. "Your shift ended hours ago, and it's starting to show. Go home. This can wait 'till tomorrow."

In a huff, and with a puff, the big bad Rorq blew out of engineering. "Noah," Xaith said to the engineering's central imaging system, "Call up the errant signal detection grid in the corridors surrounding engineering and locate this aura." The term wasn't a technical one, but it wasn't unknown in the profession either. With the specifications inserted into the computer it identified the electromagnetic resonance frequencies associated with the various levels of modification. Of interest was the one of that cyborg.

While he was locked out of security systems for obvious reasons, he wouldn't be much of an engineer if he couldn't figure a way around such mechanical trivialities. Specialist's Iron's aura, the electrical inference pattern that indicated her presence, could be seen pacing in an electromagnetically sealed section of the corridor.

"Now..." he mumbled to himself as the large holoimage went largely ignored by the hard-working staff whom Lt. Rorq had set on a prescribed path of perfect productivity. He continued to mumble under his breath as he watched the aura pace the breadth of the equivalent of a shoe-box filled with regret, before it stopped and propped itself against the door. "Do we become what the Devastators made us," Xaith mumbled to himself while the whole of engineering continued whirring like a Swiss watch behind him, "or do we find our own path? Our first official act as a whole new people..."

---

If the body was a bio-chemical machine, as her only supervisor in the department once posited in his doctoral thesis, then it was one that she hoped all her parts served their function admirably. It was for this reason that Lieutenant Rorq came to be unnerved by the presence of doctors. That was for she knew all too well how machines could be cobbled together from bits of rust, and duct-tape, and be said to function 'perfectly normally'. Lieutenant Rorq liked her parts. She liked having them, and she did not like being in sent to the place where they were maintained. She hesitated for a moment before stepping into the transit system, and then sat humbly on the tram.

She was not in engineering. There were no airs to maintain. No systems to analyse, no crewmen to mange, or cyborgs to chase. She clutched a datapad to her breast as she let out a long sigh of relief. It would never cease to surprise her just out of her league Sargent Calhound made her feel. And, for once, it was not in a bad way. Thanks to this report she had the briefest sensation of something she thought impossible. For a moment, she felt as if she were going home.

Not the doctors office, of course, as that would be silly. But, home to her life before Citadel.

A life that humanity seems to have forgotten could even exist.

As she embraced the mineralogy shadow-report she allowed a moment of carefree elation to wash through her vital insides, as weapon-fire washed over the deep black space outside the Vitae. Tomorrow's another day, she thought before considering how best to unwind. "Officer's lounge," she ordered the computer, before thinking better of it. No, she had been given a gift she intended to indulge in "Cancel that. Habitat level: section J," she instructed the computer once more as she began perusing the resonance analysis. "Huh," she muttered as the tram engaged. "Who is this 'Sasha'?"