Not a machine?...

Excuses. That was all he wanted them to be as he listened to each articulated word forming from the artificially perfected lips of the once fully flesh and blood woman standing across from him. He searched for signs in the solid black orbs that were considered “eyes” resting behind lids that didn’t react instinctively as they would have to a human; no indicators leading him to a more solid conclusion as he had hoped. Gavon wanted to put this nonsense behind him, to forget that this thing wasn’t just a mindless machine of chaos, and hoped beyond hope that it would be just another virus in the system which could easily be vented out into space and never heard from again. But that wasn’t the case, as the cyborg’s words drilled down deeper into his own past, knocking at that door which had been sealed and forgotten for many years, and shedding light on at least one truth…

He was, in many ways, not very different from her.

“Yeah, that'll do for a start.” Finally responding to her inquiry regarding the data drive she agreed to relinquish.

The Chief pulled a handheld data pad from his breast pocket, interfacing with the cell’s energy field, nullifying a specified rectangular area at about eye level along the edge of the field, which revealed an opening just wide enough for a hand to pass through. The decision -during construction of the facility- to manipulate the energy field in this way was based on several factors, but primarily to avoid having any unnecessary gaps in the metal structure itself thereby maintaining maximum structural integrity and lessening any breach-related variables.

“Slowly pass the chip through the slot, and drop it in my hand.” He said, narrowing suspicious eyes. “Any further action outside of that will result in this field closing and you losing that...limb.”

The metallic gauntlet rose to Gavon’s eye level, the data drive held out between finger and thumb. The cyborg slowly moved her hand forward, up to the threshold of the energy barrier, where she lightly flicked the drive at the security chief’s chest. He unceremoniously caught it before it hit him.

“You must understand, Mr. TreVayne - most things here will go as you will, but not all of them. Do not take offense; You see, I like my hand, and have not yet discovered the kind of jokes that amuse you. Could they be dismemberment jokes? I have not tested this ship’s engineering and medical facilities yet, so that kind of humor may be irreversible.”

Unbeknownst to the chief of security, the cyborg was buying time, looking alternately between her hand and his face through the slit in the force field. Her internal CPU was busy analyzing the EM data she had been receiving, looking for low frequency signals… There. 300Hz. The quadruple pump control frequency that set the artificial heart’s pulse at 75. A bit high, but there was no data about the efficiency of the device. The waveform was catalogued for future use.

Ignoring the cyborg’s skewed sense of humor, Gavon reset the field, causing the gap to close immediately and held up the drive to examine it closer, noting a few Japanese markings along its casing. He advised NO4H to treat the drive as “malicious hardware” prior to inserting the interface chip into his data pad and hoping that he wasn’t making a mistake. As the screen lit up with various commands, he keyed in a code for the AI to perform a full sweep of the drive, and within a few seconds, the scan was given a green light, the drive cleaned of any unusable or redundant files, and all data uploaded into the main system for further investigation.

“Okay then...” He said in a slightly relieved tone, returning his attention to the cyborg. “At this point a few things are going to happen before any consideration is made, and of course, the overall outcome will determine whether or not you have a future with us aboard the Ark. Ultimately, this isn’t my decision, and the final sign off rests on the shoulders of the ship’s Admiral, who will no doubt wish to speak with you soon.”

Gavon lifted his wrist to check the time before continuing. “But, until then and unless you have any further questions for me, this meeting is over.”

“No further questions, Mr. TreVayne.” The cyborg smiled. This could’ve gone much worse, though she wasn’t in the clear yet. “I do have a request, or rather, a suggestion. While you let NOAH cross-reference the boring parts of that drive with the ship’s database, do be so kind and read through the technical data, capabilities and evaluation results of subject #0376, code name IRON. I have no faith in your Admiral, and before he opposes this arrangement I offer to you, you should be fully aware of its benefits. I suggest it is done before said meeting, so you are better prepared.”

She took two steps back, and lowered herself into a lotus position in the middle of the room with a fluid, spinning motion. Her black eyes rose at the tall man’s face, their red irises clearly visible through the force field.

“Thank you for your time.”

Nodding in acknowledgment, he turned and stepped away from the cell, the two guards saluting as the Chief headed toward the double doors that lead to the elevators. Just before exiting, however, he stopped roughly halfway and turned his attention in the direction of the cell once again.

“Why Security?” His inquiring tone echoed throughout the otherwise silent corridor.

The cyborg opened her eyes. What a strange question. Surely her skills would be best implemented against intruders, or as an intruder in case that’s ever needed. But could she say she considered the rest of the options on this ship? Superhuman speed and strength have other uses beyond violence. In fact, why would she even let her body have such a prominent effect on her career choice?

She stared into nothing for the seconds it took to process these thoughts, then slowly moved her eyes at the security chief.

“Working towards safety and security of the human race - It has been my dream. I have studied Criminology and worked in the ministry of internal security back on earth. My chance to fight the Devastators has been taken from me, but my wish to protect humanity, whether from an external foe or from themselves, has not.” And that goal was clearer than ever in her mind, pushing away doubt and indecision. “Thank you for asking. You will not find this information in the drive.”

The trip to SecCom -via several security checkpoints and an elevator ride to the top floor- gave him time to think through all that had taken place during their exchange. Reservations to even consider her for any position on the ship were slowly diminishing as he couldn’t help recognize the all-too-familiar similarities between himself and the cyborg. Both had been fashioned into tools of terror and destruction, their own pasts branded with dark secrets, constant deceit, and unthinkable betrayal of trust that left more than internal and external scarring, but an ever-growing and intensifying resolve to fulfill a promise of service and protection. Gavon had no doubts that her physical attributes would be well over what was required, but still questioned the cyborg’s psychological integrity and long term loyalty to the interests of the ship and it’s crew. He questioned it as he questioned his own, realizing that man or machine could never truly escape a history of violence, but merely suppress it in hopes it never resurfaces again.

Of all the information his brain was processing all at once, however, he’d almost overlooked a comment made by the cyborg halfway through their meeting, and yet the reference still eluded him.

“Noah” Gavon’s headset lit up, recognizing the command to speak with the ship’s AI. “Search the term ‘Tin Man’ and advise of all results found.”

Within moments, Noah’s smooth, digitally enhanced voice came through the Chief’s earpiece. “The term ‘Tin Man’ yields two results, both derived from Twentieth Century archival data. The first refers to slang used when addressing a law enforcement officer, whereas standard badges at that time were made of an alloy called pewter, which was also considered aluminum, which was also considered-”

“Tin” Gavon interjected, as he passed through the open elevator doors and made his way toward the SecCom main entrance. “And the second?”

“Result number two refers to a character, in a nineteen thirty-nine film entitled The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, who was constructed fully of aluminum alloy, or tin. ‘Tin Man’ was the name given to said character throughout the film.”

“Hm” He scratched at his beard. “I don’t see the relevance in that definition.”

“There is more, Chief TreVayne, if you will permit me.” Noah’s voice chimed in once again.

“Eh, yeah, go head…” He said, smirking at the thought that he may have interrupted the poor AI again.

“In the story, the main protagonist, Dorothy Gale befriends the Tin Woodman after she and her two other companions -the scarecrow and cowardly lion- find him rusted in the forest. He agrees to join their group as they journey to the Emerald City to find The Wizard who can help each companion with what they desire the most.”

Gavon sighed, walking up to the biometric scanning chamber that would allow him into SecCom. “Noah, let’s skip to the part regarding the Tin Man”

“Of course, Sir. The Tin Woodman desired only one gift from the Wizard, one such thing he had been void of throughout the story, which was a heart.”

The Security Chief paused for moment, and even as the “Access Granted” annunciator indicated clearance to proceed, he stood in awe and silence for several seconds before a repeat verbal indicator chimed to enter the designated doorway.

“Well shit…” He finally whispered to himself in surprise, before passing through the threshold into Dispatch and Communications.

William stood above the table paper all across it, with a hologram hovering in the centre of the planet in question. Noah had given it the designation P2A-594, and had in fact catalogued most of the stars and planets since they dropped out of hyperspace. While 594 wasn't going to be offering them an instant solution to their journey through the void it would be foolish not to send a survey team down to the planet in order to see what they could find, at least while Noah finished plotting star systems within range and they decided on their next move. Not to mention the EM fields detectable under the dense jungle were interesting to say the least. Would they find a sentient species on their very first planet? William didn't really know what the odds were but he doubted it, he just hoped that if they did they'd be friendlier than the last aliens humanity had encountered.

"The Nyx will enter orbit here-" He pointed to a section of the map, Colonel Anderson wasn't present but all this information could be relayed to him via Noah later. As the A.I was built specifically to be able to work on the Nyx even if it wasn't currently docked, and that was if the plan worked flawlessly and the Colonel didn't need to adjust it. "-after performing a flyby to try and get a better scan of the EM fields she'll create a clearing here and land in it before deploying a Beast. The important part is that if there is sentient life we don't make a clearing too close, we don't want to blow up forest right beside their home as they'll probably look upon us negatively for that and that's the last thing we want."

He turned to Captain Ray Steele, one of the finest tacticians he had aboard. "You have the personnel list ready?"

"Yes sir, we're sending the Grave Robbers as fighter escort, and as per your request as it is the first away mission of the Nyx Lt.Rorq has been assigned to provide ongoing repair work and labs have been provided for Doctor Anderson and Mister Karlson aboard and they have been advised to prepare themselves for the trip. All other personnel are currently going through the process of boarding and preparing for launch." William nodded as he went through the list of personnel. He paused on his tablet as he scrolled over the name Amara Locke. He wasn't too happy about her going, but she was qualified and her head of department had chosen her to go down onto the planet because she was good at what she did. He was going to have to accept that as the days went on, in the same way that Amanda had gotten used to him going off on dangerous missions. He supposed it had hurt her the same way it hurt him, and would hurt him if anything went wrong. Though they had the best possible crew assembled, so in theory nothing should go wrong.

"Tell Chief TreVayne I'd like his presence on the Nyx. I'm sending a military contingent but I'd still like for him to get a feel for the vessel and the operations, his experience in Europe will also help the ground team. Inform Captain Eccleson to respect any advice the Chief gives her on the mission-" Captain Eccleson. Another fine officer, the only thing was like most military personnel she had little combat experience. The militaries of the worlds had trained but there hadn't been a real full out war since the Third World War and nobody was old enough to have lived through that. Everyone was green, except those like Gavon TreVayne who had worked out in the wastes of Europe trying to bring some semblance of control and normality to the wastes. He may not be military trained, but he knew what he was talking about and was experienced. That skill and experience is what got him aboard, and he'd be a fool not to take advantage off it. Sure he could technically order him to go, but at the end of the day he was still technically a civilian.

"I want that ship ready for launch in-" He checked the time. "-One hour, at sixteen-thirty. That should give them time to get to the planet and set up their landing spot while still on the day cycle." He checked the data they had on the planet. "It will also give them five hours of light on the planet before night fall." He looked around the room as he finished talking. "All right people, make it happen."

He was about to send his first mission to another planet, what a day...

"Alright everybody," Lt. Rorq shouted through her comm-line, "Everyone knows what they need to get done, and how long they have to do it, so I leave it in your capable hands." With the delegation of the duties done the Lieutenant disembarked from the Nyx to speak to the admiral directly. Her only direct superior officer had assured her that she was infinitely more valuable to the mission than he, for her dual interest in exploration. Sure he could manage the Nyx, but there may be some mineralogical value to the planet that she was uniquely qualified to assess.

These and more arguments raced through her head as she waited impatiently on the tram to the bridge. When she arrived, she would speak her concerns directly to the deciding party, and request a more active role in the planetary exploration. Little did she realize, she was still holding her soil PH sample kit, that she had been fiddling with for the last half-hour.

---

"And, when the results are in, send them to this address," Xaith said as he handed the coolant maintenance supervisor a string of numbers.

The coolant maintenance supervisor was confused by the orders. Not by the string of numbers jotted down by the Chief of Engineering on paper of all things, but as to why he was being assigned the task. "This is... a TCP-IP address, sir." To which Xaith only let out a grunt of acknowledgement. "Sir, with respect, there aren't any computers on the ship that use TCP-IP. We haven't used the protocol in 50 years when quantum tunneling became standard."

This drew the ire of the Chief, who accepts neither willful ignorance, nor blatant lies from his subordinates. "Clearly, there is at least one."

To which the coolant maintenance supervisor winced. "I mean, it'd be faster for me to just copy the data to a PADD and send it to your quarters by courier pigeon than to try to use this protocol."

"Yes," SFC Calhound acknowledged, "But you won't. Because I am punishing you."

With that the Chief of Engineering left his formal home department and made his way to Security. He was met in the elevator by his adjutant. A robot of impeccable design, and the first hand-crafted on the Vitae as it was completed before the robotics facility went into full operation. Her black sclera, and the radial array of blue bars that would constitute her irises more than qualified her as 'distinctly non-human' for legal satisfaction. "Security," he directed the computer as he stepped into the lift, before turning to the robot specifically, "Sasha, this will be the first test of parallel processing your SI and RR protocols."

"Yes sir," she said in a sweet voice that had an artificial hollow tinge added to the vocal intonation by her speech processors. It was a mechanical unnecessarity and served to further distinguish man from machine. Everything about her form fit that qualification of "almost" but not quite blurring the line between the two. Her sleek form was humanoid in nature, but a lithe frame belied a lack of organic substructure, while hard-lines printed in cold white carbon superstructure distinctly separated her exterior from skin.

They arrived in the brig in time to catch the tail end of the conversation. In a force of habit, as historical pop-culture was the only systems that she had access to until this morning, Sasha helpfully added "The Tin Man was also a post-apocalyptic sheriff of the same fictional universe."

As Xaith and S.A.S.H.A. stepped out of the elevator, he spoke up with an extreme authoritative bent: "I'm going to ask you all, only once, to very nicely leave. I'll be serving as the defendant's council and my client and I have a legal right to privacy." And, on queue, S.A.S.H.A. appended the statement with an informational "The requisite doccumentation has been provided to the front desk upon our arrival."

While 'she' emphasized the visor's pass that had been afixed to her frame, Xaith shifted his weight in a way that drew emphasis to a manila envelope he held in reserve under his arm. It was marked "Classified: Top Secret", and his possession of it implied the results of the required scans revealed it contained only paper documents. Though, aside from Xaith, no one else in the room had the clearance required to inspect their contents.

"Now!" the Sargent First Class shouted.

"Don't touch anything if you don't know what it is...In fact just don't touch anything. And remember to stay with the group."
"And if you meet any cute alien guys, take pictures."
"Miles!"
"Oh like you weren't thinking the same thing."

Amara only half paid attention to Clara and Miles as she stuffed some more gauze into a compartment in her bag. The three of them were crammed into a medical supply room just off of their on call room. A place where Amara strangely felt more at home than her actual quarters. The on call room, with it's bunks and other people sleeping in them, reminded her of her time in the military where she would spend most of her time in the barracks with other people. While having her own space was nice, sometimes she just liked to be around others. Even if she didn't always show it.

"I'm just trying to make sure she stays safe." she heard Clara say.

Shoving one last thing in her bag, she closed it and slung it over her shoulder as she turned to the other medics and said "Relax. I'm only going on a recon mission. It's not like I'm going to Detroit." She gave Clara a friendly pat on the shoulder and the faintest hint of a smile before squeezing past her and Miles to move out into the main room.

"First of all, way too soon." Clara complained as she followed her. "And second, this is serious."

"What's serious?" Amara looked round to see the scarred and ever surly face of Edward Marlowe. He strolled in through the door and dumped his bag next to it, which made Amara feel like a blood vessel was about to rupture in her brain. She hated how he never stowed his equipment properly and she was pretty sure that he was just doing it to piss her off at this point.

"Mercy's going to the planet." Clara beamed like a proud mother.

Marlowe's expression only turned even more sour than usual as he grumbled "Of course she is." as he turned and headed down the couple of stairs that lead to the large table that dominated most of the room.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Enquired Miles as he leaned his shoulder again the wall next to the supply room, looking just as puzzles and annoyed as Amara felt.

"Nothing." Marlowe answered with a smile that looked painted on as he spun a chair around. "It must be nice being the bosses daughter is all." He slumped down into the chair and turned his back to the rest of them as he fiddled with a comms device.

Amara felt her blood boil. She hated Marlowe and the feeling was obviously mutual. She didn't know if it was because she was the admiral's daughter or because he was jealous she was going to be one of the first people on this new planet. Maybe it was because she was Martian or just because Marlowe was a dick but this guy seemed to have it out for her since day one. There weren't many people who could push Amara's button's with very little trying but Marlowe was one of them.

"My father didn't select me for this mission." she informed him with a tone somewhat angrier than she had intended to convey.

Marlowe looked over his shoulder at her and smirked as he said "Sure." then turned his attention back to his comms device.

Amara knew he felt he had gotten to her and her grip on the strap of her bag tightened as she imagined throttling him. But then she felt a hand on her back and all the anger seemed to wash out of her all at once. She turned to see Clara standing beside her with that smile that seemed eternally plastered on her face. It was a genuine smile too. Amara instantly felt better when Clara looked at her like that and she smiled back at her friend. Well what passed for a smile from Amara anyway. She knew there was no point in getting angry with Marlowe.

"Oh go space yourself, Marlowe." she heard Miles chime in with an Armani insult. Apparently he didn't agree about not getting angry. "You know damn well she was chosen because she's the best medic here."

Marlowe raised a finger and opened his mouth like he was about to say something but Amara cut him off, telling Miles "It's fine Miles." Miles, who clearly disliked Marlowe as much as Amara did, was about to object and carry on his complaint but Amara shot him a look he knew well. It was the 'drop it' look. Miles huffed and gave Marlowe a dirty look but kept quiet.

Amara turned to Clara and told her "Keep them from killing each other while I'm gone." The words were barely out of her mouth before Clara was pouncing on her with a hug like she was going away for ever. Amara rolled her eyes and gave Clara a pat on the back. When Clara finally released her from her death grip, Amara told her "Don't forget to check in on Heywood while I'm gone."

"I'll tell him you said hi." Clara beamed.

Amara turned to Miles then and told him "Do me a favour and get someone to check out the bus. It's been making a weird noise."
"I'll look at it myself." he told her with a smile. She had meant to have a professional look at it and was about to say just that when she remembered that Miles was an Armani, which meant that he probably was a professional. Those guys just seemed to have a way with machines.

"And Blake..." she began as she turned to the massive, muscular man lying on one of the bunks reading a book. Blake was the kind of person that barely ever said a word but could convey pretty much everything with a look. Amara liked Blake, despite knowing next to nothing about him. Blake moved the book out of the way to lock eyes with Amara who raised a finger and pointed it at him as she said "...Carry on."

"Mmmmhmmm." was Blake's only response before he returned to his book.

She gave Clara and Miles one last look before turning and heading for the door. "What? No goodbye message for me?" she heard Marlowe ask.

She stopped at the door, turning to him and saying "Sure, how about this one?" She then promptly hoisted her middle finger in his direction and held it there until she passed through the door.

---

After arriving at the Nyx, Amara spent a long moment simply staring up at the vessel. She shared her fathers admiration for good ships though perhaps not to the same extent. She knew the Nyx was a good ship, though she was more concerned about its crew. She had read the files. Files which she wasn't technically supposed to have but she had read them anyway. Some of the crew she had met already, like the Nyx's captain, Anderson. But some she had not. She had yet to meet most of the scientists that would be accompanying them though.

She flipped through the files on her datapad as she headed for the entrance ramp, trying to familiarise herself with the people she would be working with. She could probably get to know them by talking to them but that wasn't something she was likely to do.

"Sir, my expertise are being wasted if I am stuck aboard a ship on an away mission." William turned to look at the Lieutenant who had more or less stormed onto the bridge like a scorned child, or at least that was how he took it. He expected better from an officer from the Martian Military. It was strange circumstances that she was technically under the thumb of an enlisted, but he had the skill and expertise to do the job. He was considering giving the chief a commission but apparently he couldn't keep a handle on his own people.

"Lieutenant. If you came all of this way to tell me your skills are being wasted, you are also wasting time which is something I don't appreciate." She shuffled slightly with the files she was holding, as if she was going to speak but William just held up his hand indicating that she shouldn't speak as he was going to continue. "Rest assured your files have been given to the Officer in charge of the mission, and should you wish to file a request to journey onto the surface of the planet you can take it up with him. Dismissed." She paused for a second as if she was going to continue the train of thought, however she then saluted and turned around.

"Oh and Lieutenant?"

She paused and turned around to face him. "Sir?"

"This is the last time you bypass the chain of command."

"Yes sir, sorry sir."

He waved his hand indicating for her to leave as he turned back and sighed, Joanne looking right at him with a skeptical look. "Yes Commander?"

"It was my impression Admiral, that you had cleared her to collect samples from the planets surface?"

He nodded as he picked up his cup of water and took a sip. "I did."

"Then that was-" He nodded again cutting her off.

"A display. Letting her know that she can't just jump up the chain of command when she doesn't get her way. I'm surprised really, a fine officer."

"Ambitious."

"That's one word for it, which reminds me. Noah?" The holographic avatar of the unit appeared before him.

"Yes Admiral?"

"Play back the log you told me about-"

---

Loretta held her hand on her brow before slamming it down on the command console. "Tell me again, what you're problem is." It was evident that she was beginning to become frustrated, not only had her experiments not been as successful as she had hoped... years of planning and the majority of the first test subjects had negative results. Such a waste, she had had to have the remains burnt. The problem was getting the whole process past Noah to keep her experiments on the down low. It was more of a case of avoiding or tampering with cameras than messing with the programming, she wasn't much for programming anyway.

The Technician pushed his classes up his nose as he turned away from the screen to face her. "The system appears to be frozen-" He swiped through the screen of several sleepers: each screen showed a portrait of the sleeper, core temperature and vital life signs. Each had remained unchanged, which is exactly what they were hoping for. What they weren't hoping for was the fact that the screen in the bottom left that read how long each person had been in cryo had not changed for several hours. Meaning that this wasn't a live feed, two hours could mean a lot in this situation.

"You designed this system, can't you fix it?"

"Not when I don't know what's wrong with it."

"Damnit." She held her head in her hands, there was no use contacting engineering quite yet. They were useful, but were still getting used to the system. Besides she'd handle this internally for as long as possible. "While you and try and fix your mistake have all cryogenic personnel come check the affected trays. Which ones are affected?"

The tech turned back to his screen for a moment. "54A-57D" Easily several hundred cryogenic pods. This wasn't going to be a quick job.

"Get everyone on it, I want it confirmed that these pods are still online and fully operational."

---

The A.I sat waiting for the Therapists office to clear, metaphorically. Actually it just created a subroutine to inform it when she was alone, and then the holographic avatar appeared in the room. "Doctor Larson. The Admiral has a request. You will find yourself with two sets of files, one with no attached name but a dossier and one with a name. The one without the name is a security concern and the Admiral asks that you perform a psychological evaluation as quickly as possible, once you have done your preliminary assessment he shall get you some time with the subject." The avatar of the A.I flickered for a second.

"Secondly the Admiral would like you to set up recurring meetings with Michael Smith. Good day, if you have any questions please do not hesitate to ask." With that the holographic avatar disappeared from the room, and Melanie would find herself with two new files to work with.

Another night.

The clock on the wall read 5am inside of Javier’s personal room. It didn’t mean much to him other than the fact that he’d had another poor night for sleeping. Slept at 10, woke up at 2, then went back to bed at 3:30 before then waking up again at 5.

Javier walked towards the bathroom door before opening it. He looked in the mirror and rubbed his five o’clock shadow for abit. “Not bad, I’ll shave later” thought Javier. He then brushed his teeth and took a long shower, in 30 minutes of length before changing into a hoodie with the words “Rosin Federation PD” and a pair of sweatpants. He grasped onto his Trak Kingmaker from his bed stand and placed into his sweatpants before covering the handle with his hoodie. Before grabbing he grabbed onto his ID card and a small notebook

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

The hub during the morning hours wasn’t that active. Most shops were opening up, people liked their sleep really. However one of Javier’s go to places was a small cafe called the “Prussian Cafe”. It was small, had a few tables and was rather neatly kept and run. The cafe was run by a man by the name of Olaf Murphy, six foot seven with a pretty bulky frame and yet he ran one of the most peaceful and cleanest spots in the Hub.Javier walked towards the bar stool seats with Olaf behind them. Olaf placed a plate with two pieces of lemon loaf and a cup of coffee.

“Business good Olaf?” Javier questioned, as he began to eat a piece of lemon loaf.

“Not bad, Marty hasnt paid his tab yet though” Olaf stated, busy grinding a set of coffee beans.

“Give him a break, poor guy’s wife is giving him a hard time. I think he slept with fucking.. Jill.-..” Javier starting saying before being cut off by Olaf

“Yea I know, Jill from the clothing store. Not my fault he couldn’t hold his urge to fuck her, I mean sure I get she’s a fine broad but your married” Olaf said, placing the grinded coffee beans into the coffee maker.
‘
“Jeez, not all of us are Catholic like you Olaf” Javier chuckled, taking his first sip of the coffee.

“Yea, yea..” Olaf said, dismissing Javier off. Javier finished up before asking another question to Olaf

“Olaf, who would you consider the community leader for the hub around here?” Javier asked, cleaning his hands off via the napkin. Olaf removed the plate and coffee cup and placed 4 cups of coffee and 2 muffins on a plate, sliding them to one of his waiters/

“A few people actually” Olaf began as he wiped down the counter where Javier ate.

“You got Timmy, the one who runs the bar. He know’s all about the inner workings of every household in the Hub since his bar runs from afternoon to early morning. Then you got Fredrick the banker. Kind guy does his stuff. Yet he know’s what everyone spends and where they go. Finally you got Giogio, the one who runs the 24/7 restaurant. He has a ear to the ground always.” Olaf stated, as he poured another round of coffee and prepared more muffins to be served. Javier nodded before looking at his watch for a brief moment.

“Gotta run, see you soon” nodded Javier. Olaf waved him goodbye before going back to his work tasks. Javier in the meantime hailed a transport to the security office, mainly the investigation branch.

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

The investigation office of the ship was lined up with a board with various of bulletins, a blueprint of the ship's map with colored pin needles pointing to important areas. Various people were seen typing on computers, going through files and filing stuff on computers. Javier
walked into the office towards his office, a woman and a man came beside him.

“ Ed paid the fine for the damages on the shop case sir” the women stated, handing him the completed case file.

“Thanks Julie” Javier said as he briefly skimmed over the file and then handed it back to her. Julie went away from Javier.

“Sir, the bar dispute can be resolved early, Danny will pay damages and accept a bar from the bar in-exchange for the case being dismissed.” the male stated

“Accept it Ben” Javier stated before he went into his office. Javier logged onto the email before being greeted by a request, with the top secret security clearance. He casually opened the email up before reading it:

Investigator Javier,

There have been troubling reports of camera’s being tampered or simply being ineffective. Patrols have seen a few camera’s not function as they should and as a request from HoS Gavon your department look into this.

Sincerely
Officer Robert

Javier pressed a button on his intercom before he began speaking into it “Vanessa and Louis, report to me please.” Javier commanded over the intercom. Two figures of a women and a man, both in semi formal attire entered the office, Javier ordered them to sit down and nodded.

“Right, I’ve gotten a case for you both. Camera’s have been failing and not working as they are suppose to. I want you to retrieve camera’s and bring them here for the cyber department to analyze and check for anything. Physical, internal or even program damage. Call in a squad to help you grab the camera’s and then begin your report, you got 3 days” Javier stated, both of them nodded before they went to perform the requested task. Javier simply was seen reading the few case files on his desk for the time being.

Shortly after the android and his creator returned to the labs, Dr. Phillips found Michael seemingly staring at a holographic display of the star system the Vitae had appeared in. The drop out of hyperspace had gone swimmingly, they were in 'uncharted waters' now. The veteran scientist watched the machine man for a moment, Michael either unaware of the human's presence, or aware but not focused on it. The second option being the truth.

"Greetings doctor, ever since we came back here I've been enamored by the ship's location." Michael said with a pleasant smile. A few other scientists milled around the lab, occupied with their own matters.

"Yes, it is quite fascinating isn't it? In fact, I've received a request from command asking if you'd like to accompany some other crewmen on a mission off the Vitae to one of the planets in the system," Phillips stated as he adjusted his glasses. Michael blinked at the words, then quickly processed them. A mission off the ship? He'd be leaving the safe confines of the Vitae in lieu of an uncharted world? Excitement boiled in the curious android's words as he spoke.

"I would be delighted to do so. It sounds like a wondrous idea to me."

"I am glad you feel that way, Michael. You are very highly thought of on the Vitae, someone of your expertise is just what is needed for a groundbreaking mission of this caliber," Phillips said with a smirk. "I've assembled a compact case of items you might need on the mission. I will not be going on the journey, you are our representative Michael, do us proud."

"I will do my best, truthfully I can barely contain my excitement." Michael said with a genuine smile. He was chosen for such a task, and needed to be up to it. He gathered the case his creator had spoken of, bid his farewells, then departed from the laboratory, heading for the hangar where the Nyx awaited him.

---

The android strolled through the massive hangar, pausing so that he could properly take in the scope of it. Towards the end were massive blast doors which separated the interior from the frozen darkness of space. Then his artificial eyes gazed at the Reaper-Class Cruiser. Humans were capable of feats of pure ingenuity, the ship was just another example of that. Michael approached the entrance ramp, smiling at the security personal who was clearing people to board onto it. After briefly giving his credentials, he boarded the vessel.

As Michael entered the ship, his hand clenched his case of supplies. Inside of it was his repair kit, in case he suffered damage while on mission then he would be able to fix himself. Of course he would need to do it in secrecy. To all on-board, he was a human, and he'd ensure that he kept that lie alive. The android then wondered curiously around the inside of the cruiser, familiarizing himself with it.

The cyborg sat in the center of the cell in a Lotus position, completely still. As the only prisoner kept in one of the high-security cells, she was the embodiment of an elephant in the room. The crowd gathered in front of her cell and the Chief Engineer’s shouts all went ignored, almost deliberately.

As the guards began filing out of the room SFC Calhound interrupted them once more with a loud clearing of his throat. With a swift motion of his hand he motioned to the cell’s energy shield—pointing with his thumb while using the hand that still held the envelope. ”It is within our rights to take our client from the holding chamber, to an interrogation room, in which our privacy and comfort can be assured.” S.A.S.H.A. cited the court ruling from the legal database. ”A general holding area is not sufficient to meet either of these criteria.”

The energy barrier flickered away with some reluctance, conveying the feelings of the on-duty warden and the face he was making at the Chief of Engineering. Two guards, armed with heavy rifles, flanked the cyborg stowaway’s visitors before the order was given to unlock the cell. The tension in their hands gave away what was running through their heads - the machine-humanoid in the cell leaping at her visitors’ throats. Both were prepared to push Xaith and his companion out of the way in such a case, and obviously invaded their personal space for this purpose. But the cyborg only opened her eyes with deliberate laziness, looked at the two for a long moment, then tilted her head in a questioning manner.

“Do. Not. Push.” The legal counsel advised in a dreadful tone, “You’re already on thin ice here.” In his EEGARD legal precedent regarding criminal misconduct in an ongoing investigation, denial of advocacy, and police brutality streamed in an overly visible manner. Sasha also added her own advisory: ”An overwhelming majority of instances of suspects overpowering offerers occur when the officer fails to maintain a safe distance that accommodates appropriate reactionary timing.”

One of the guards turned back towards the prisoner, visibly unnerved by the android’s presence. The other turned to Calhound. “Regardless, we are required to escort you and the prisoner to the interrogation room of your choice.” He said slowly, almost reluctantly. Having so much bureaucracy shoved in the security guards’ faces was clearly having an effect. He pointed at one of the doors behind him, down the hall, then looked at the prisoner. She was frozen in place.

After appearing to all but ignore the guard SFC Calhound let out a grunt of acknowledgement while taking the manilla envelope from under his arm. He unwound the string binding its contents. It had occurred to him that he might know more about her than she knew about him, and since they didn’t know each other from adam there was no reason for her to trust him. With two fingers he reached in and produced part of the cover of a file, so that only a logo could be seen as he held the file out to the heavily modified individual. The wheeled wing logo of the Daedalus program.

“You’re going to come with me,” Xaith said with the utmost confidence, “Not because I’m telling you to, or because I came to help you. But, to find out how much I know, how I know it, and what I intend to do about it...” He loosened his grip on the envelope he was holding with one hand, so that the file may slide back inside, before returning it to his side. “And, because,” he added, “no one who has known this symbol’s meaning has ever walked away from it.” He paused as he turned to the guard and nodded in acknowledgement, before turning his head to finish almost with an afterthought: “I don’t think you’ll be the first.”

With that SFC Calhound simply walked away from the cell in the direction of interrogation, with his EEGARD leading, and S.A.S.H.A. following. They were visitors being monitored by security cameras, following explicit instructions and didn’t require escort. So the guards were left with the prisoner, and she was left with a choice.

She stared at the guard for a long moment, then furtively tiptoed out of the cell, as if expecting the force-field door to shut in front of her face, or worse, in the middle of it. The guard cleared the way, and once the cyborg stepped into the room with the chief of engineering and his companion, locked the door behind them.

[ SecCom | 3rd Floor - Office of Chief Gavon TreVayne ]

“Chief you have an urgent call from Warden Harrisen.”

The shuffling and clanging sounds made from miscellaneous items being moved about in the large carbon fiber foot locker ceased for a moment.

“Yep, patch him through.” Gavon responded from across the small private office, down on one knee while continuing to search for the old bowie knife that inadvertently went astray the day he arrived on the Ark, as did many of his personal effects during the transitional period, but most of which he cared little for. However the knife, or “Searles Bowie” as it was known from the Nineteenth Century on, had been passed down through a few generations of his family, and given to him by his father as a coming of age gift. A huge proponent of close-quarter combat, the bowie had also been the first real weapon he’d had the privilege of training with in his younger years to have mastered and refined several offensive and defensive techniques currently applied to basic and advanced training for military and security personnel aboard the Vitae.

“Chief TreVayne” The Warden’s image materialized on the comm screens hanging from adjustable brackets along the ceiling. Marcus Harrisen was a tall, well-built, and fit middle aged Englishman from the Martian Unity, his graying hair and thick mustache a stark contrast to an otherwise dark, ruddy complexion, and facial expressions that could be considered warm and welcoming or cold and bitter as an arctic storm. Harrisen had been involved in law enforcement for most of his life, on his way to an early retirement due to an on-duty injury that limited mobility in his left leg, which was later fitted with an exo-skeletal brace to assist in walking without the use of a cane. Shortly thereafter, he was offered the position as full-time prison Warden on the Ark due to his long-time loyal service, a position he gladly accepted over the inevitable conditions of Earth and Mars. He was also one of the few -perhaps fortunate?- on the Vitae who had nothing to lose from the destruction of his home planets, as he never had children and his wife had passed of medical complications long before.

“My apologies for the interruption Sir, as I’m aware you’re prepping for the away mission, but we have a situation rapidly unfolding down here involving the cyborg.”

As if by pure chance, Gavon grasped the hardwood hilt of the bowie which had been buried near the bottom of the foot locker, still secured in it’s worn tanned leather sheath. He found himself squeezing tighter at the mention of the cyborg, while simultaneously pulling the knife out of the box in anticipation of what may be coming next.

“Please don’t tell me that she escaped…” He said with an underlying irritation, but retaining a calm disposition otherwise.

“I wish it were only that simple. Xaith Calhoun -and one other, who appears to be a synthetic- practically stormed in shortly after you left, waving a folder full of legal papers, claiming to be the representing counsel, and demanding to speak with the inmate.”

“What? I only left not five minutes ago.” Gavon retorted, a puzzled expression laid across his face as he stood to his feet still clutching the sheathed weapon, and stared at the monitors above him. “And Calhoun? Isn’t he the Chief of…Engineering” The last word came as a whisper, while suddenly dawning on him why the head of that department would be directly involved, considering it was under Calhoun’s jurisdiction that the cyborg was found, and perhaps personal or work-related reasons that had nothing to do with the fact that she was still considered a stowaway.

“Did these ‘papers’ check out?” Gavon continued, as he walked over to his desk, plopped down in the leather-bound armchair, and rifled through a few drawers looking for something.

“For the most part they seem in order, and clearly it allowed him passage through security checkpoints via SecCen main lobby. No doubt with the help of the accompanying android and her vast array of legaleze.”

“Well” Gavon spoke with a hint of resentment. “Calhoun’s rank allows for clearance to certain first-floor areas within the Security Complex, including the sub-level brig, but beyond that is restricted without the proper authorization and official escorts.” Gavon leaned back in his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose, feeling the twinge of a headache looming. “So, where are they now?”

“Interrogation Room one, Sir.” Harrisen allowed a slight sigh to escape. “Although Calhoun demanded all video and audio feeds be disabled during their meeting.”

“The hell with that” Gavon muttered to himself.

“Sir?”

“Bottom line Marcus, don’t allow the bureaucratic bullshit to stonewall this Division's responsibilities. Let the Engineering Chief have his fun playing ‘lawyer’ and hiding behind his machines, but the cyborg is to remain within the confines of the brig and under our supervision until a full psyche eval has been administered and green-lighted. Any action outside of that would be a breach of ship-wide security -which Admiral Locke is aware of- and no doubt he will veto any further demands by Calhoun.”

“Very good Sir, I will keep Deputy Haas abreast of any updates in your absence, and copy you as well. Safe journey Chief.” The Warden raised his right hand to just above his bushy right eyebrow in a salute.

“Harrisen out.”

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

“You know babe, if you keep this up, I won’t have good reason to leave my office, let alone board a ship to a potentially undiscovered and inhospitable planet.”

Gavon sat at his desk with his head leaned against the backrest of the chair and eyes closed; Natalie’s hands firmly massaging the tension from his hardened shoulders and neck while smiling down at him with reverence and pride. It was then he opened his eyes and noticed her beautiful visage staring back at him, and even though her presence brightened the room, he couldn’t help but feel a certain nagging darkness in the bad of his mind. Not of the trip, venturing into the unknown, or the chance of random encounters with hostile lifeforms, but, rather, the possibility that he may never see his wife again. They both knew loss well -just about everyone did really- and they’ve accepted the hard truth that there are no certainties in life except death, but when the reality becomes more apparent, it is sometimes easier said than done.

“I see you found your father’s old knife.” Natalie finally said after a few moments, detecting the in her husband’s eyes.

“Yep” He said, clearing his throat as he stood up from the chair, picked up the knife from the desk, and made his way over to the light gray camo rucksack. “Damn thing’s been in hibernation forever.” He said with a smirk, sliding the knife into one of the side sleeves and securing it place. “Of course, I doubt I’ll get to use it for anything more than slicing open MREs, considering Locke has me paying special attention to Captain Anderson during the trip. The guy’s a crack pilot, but his fuckin’ booze problem is, of course, a cause for concern. I just wonder if-”

Three rapid and successive chimes sounded on his wrist console, indicating a thirty minute mark until the Nyx launched, and they both looked at one another with the same somber expression held for several heartbeats.

“You know you can always come with me to the hangar until lift off.” He finally said, breaking the silence that seemed to last forever.

“Nah, I’d rather just remember this moment.” She said, raising both hands to adjust the zippered turtleneck collar on his black and gray multicam tactical undershirt, and systematically moving from one button, strap, and clip along the outer utility vest. “Besides, you know I’m needed up here to look after Haas.” She grinned, staring down while still fiddling with one of the buckles on his shoulder holster, as a single tear ran along her cheek, quickly wiped away by Gavon’s thumb.

“Hey, look at me.” He said, framing her face with his hands as Natalie’s bright green eyes returned his gaze.

“I’m coming back.”

“I know.”

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

The ship was a lot larger in person, and no matter how many detailed schematics he’s perused about a ship’s mass, those datalogs never seem to do the real thing justice. Gavon wasn’t much of a space jockey, leaving that sort of thing to the pilots, but was always more at home with two feet firmly on the ground. That said, in the Ark itself, one does forget that “terra firma” is still traveling through space at variable speeds, but it’s still a sharp contrast to flying on a smaller space craft. Regardless, he is still very much looking forward to the trip, and of course, a successful landing.

Gavon approached the large loading ramp that lead up into the Nyx, followed by a firm salute from a couple of nearby security guards, in respect of their commanding officer.

“At ease.” He said with a half-smile, never quit getting used to the formalities that several of his Agents expressed, many of which have been through rigorous military boot camps where formal courtesies are required and hard-coded into their daily lives.

“Has Captain Eccleson arrived?” He asked one of the officers, noticing the several dozen men and women in military fatigues on the other side of the ship loading weapons, equipment, and supplies onto lifts going up into the belly of the vessel. Eccleson, from what Gavon understood, was the lead officer over the military units traveling with the away team and whose experience would prove valuable for ground reconnaissance and perimeter defenses.

“I believe so Chief, as have several others who’ve already been cleared and checked in. Also Captain Anderson has asked to see you on the bridge as soon as possible.”

“Copy that.” He nodded before making his way up the ramp.

"Hm." Melanie clicked away at her keyboard to retrieve the nameless file NOAH was talking about. Simultaneously, she also pulled up Michael's file, although she didn't pay it too much mind as it was rather ordinary at first glance. But nonetheless, the request came from the admiral, and she would be a fool if she were to toss it aside to handle it at a later time. Melanie pulled up her calendar to work Michael into her schedule. She looked him up in the directory and sent him a request to either confirm or deny the scheduled meetings. If those times and dates didn't work for him, he would find an attachment on the message that would prompt him to indicate his availability. Melanie then focused her attention on the first file. She quickly scanned through the document, mentally taking notes of some of the main comments that stood out to her such as "mechanically-enhanced female" and "aspires to work in the security department".

Melanie detached the screen from her main computer and grabbed one of the pens from her top drawer to write down some notes on the subject according to what she had just read.

Top factor:

- Conscientiousness

Possible fanaticism and A.D.

Her scribbles were simple, quick-formed impressions of the subject and were not by any means to be included in her final report without conducting a a face-to-face assessment beforehand. Melanie saved the file, reattached the screen, and sent a message to Gavon to inform him that she would be available to meet with his candidate any time after 3:00 PM for the next couple of days. She also advised him to inform Admiral Locke that her current professional opinion on the subject was favorable, and that it wouldn't impede with her getting the job as long as she was willing to meet with Melanie a few times a week. Of course, this was pending their initial assessment, and any red flags would be communicated immediately to Gavon and the admiral's office, as ultimately, they had the final say on the matter.

After hitting send, Melanie tidied up her office before leaving for her break. She grabbed her Notepad and put it away in the bag, then quickly took out a small mirror to spot check her hair. She frowned at the dark circles underneath her eyes, mentally cursing her bad sleeping habits and nightmares that prevented her from getting a good night's rest.

"It is what it is," she whispered to herself as she reached for her access card. Melanie thought about acquiring help, primarily in the form of sleeping aids, but she would have to go see a doctor and that just wouldn't sit too well with her. Instead, she pushed the idea out of her head and locked her office door, that which automatically activated an away message that would display for anyone who stopped by to see her before she returned.

“What do you mean I am out of Creds!” Mackenzie exclaimed in surprise as she stood at the counter of the local Coffee shop.

The Daily Grind was usually jammed packed full of patrons lounging about either before or after their work shifts and today was no different. The owner of the establishment, Lesley Mills, was a member of the Hydroponics team aboard the Ark who also had a fondness for all things brewed. Not only did the shop provide a plethora of different coffee beans, but it also had an assortment of teas.

Mackenzie looked down in embarrassment. Her cheeks had turned a bright pink as she realized the long line behind her was growing impatient. She quickly mumbled an apology and stepped back from the counter. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out how she could have over spent her credits. She pulled out her small data pad to open up her account. She sighed heavily as she reviewed the list of items she had purchased lately. She had always been an impulse buyer. It was something she attributed to her upbringing. She blamed her mother mostly. She had spent much of her youth watching her mother spend lavish amounts of money and subsequently Mackenzie never paid any attention to the cost of things. She supposed she had been doing the same thing as her mother and engaged in ample amounts of retail therapy. Though, she usually spent her money on computer parts and the like verses purses and shoes. Mackenzie accepted the fact that she would have to drink the awful coffee provided in the Ark’s free food stuffs for a while.

Just then Mackenzie’s data pad pinged. She was being paged to the hangar bay that housed the Nyx. It appeared that several of the Droids slated for the away mission were in need of a diagnostic check before heading out. It wasn’t a surprise that extra checks would be made for this very first voyage. Everything was likely to be triple checked as everyone's nerves were on edge. She couldn't help but think of everyone she had left behind when they had dropped out of Hyperspace and the Admiral had made his announcement. She hadn't had many attachments back there, but she saddened at the thought of never seeing Mars again. She may have lived on Earth, but Mars would always be her home. Even now she was reluctant to call the Vitae her Home.

Mackenzie quickly ducked out of The Daily Grind and headed for the nearest transport. She could have sent one of her team to check up on the droids, but she trusted no one but herself to make sure that everything was in working order.

Loretta
_Cryogenics

Loretta stood at the control panel as the system ran it's checks, green check marks lit up the screen running through all the cryogenic systems. She had spent years on this system, stress test after stress test and then the jump to hyperspace had caused it to glitch. From her understanding it wasn't the only system to be affected with similar glitches in robotics, surveillance and transport systems. It was keeping people busy, that was without a doubt. It had the added bonus of covering up the movement of the deceased subjects through the ship, after all cameras were malfunctioning anyway. Only a thorough check of the cameras would reveal a small electromagnetic charge she had placed on the devices that she had needed to disable. In terms of deceiving NOAH, well she didn't need to. NOAH was so busy being everywhere the only way 'he' would report her was if for some reason he was asked to go over his scans of a certain place at a certain time, and for that to happen someone would need to be onto her.

"54A-57D" She said to herself aloud, she wasn't really paying attention to the other techs at this moment in time. After all, all they had done was make excuses about why they couldn't do their job properly. She was glad that the staff for cryogenics was small, she wouldn't be able to put up with any more incompetent dirt dwellers in her department. Just when she thought things couldn't get any worse her communicator buzzed. Reluctantly she pressed the answer button. "What is it?"

"Uh, Doctor Raidne?"

"Well clearly, you called me. Now what do you want I'm busy?"

"We're over inspecting tray 54A-57D."

She let loose an audible sigh. "I am well aware, I sent you there. Now what is it?"

"You're going to want to see this."

She slammed her communicator down and got on a nearby transport, it wasn't as large as those that acted as buses in the ship, nor as small as the hover bikes that security used. Instead it was more like something one would see in a terminal at an airport or a spaceport moving around staff members or those who were unable (or unwilling) to walk. It was a short drive to the bay in question, where she immediately noticed that something was off. One of the pods was out, having been pulled out and lowered by the giant mechanical arm that all the trays had. Not only that but the pod was open, she could see the 'mist' coming out of the pod due to the change in temperature, spooling out and onto the ground.

She basically jumped out of the drivers seat. "WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!" Her chill demeanor gone, now a shrill note in her voice.

"Doc-" She raised her hand to stop the technician.

"No, you do NOT open one of MY pods without speaking to me first! And what the hell is it doing out here?! It needs to be in the cryo-ward! You're killing the occupant!"

"That's the problem Doctor. There is no occupant."

She stopped, her finger raised about to make another comment. Slowly she walked over to the edge of the cryo-pod and looked into it, there was a very noticable lack of a person inside the pod, and a pool of liquid gathering as the pipes that pumped chemicals into the occupants body had appeared to be cut. Her face, went pale. Her voice, quiet.

"Get the chief of investigations down here now. Just the chief, don't let them send anyone else. This does not leave this room, do I make myself clear?" Nobody moved a muscle. She raised her voice. "I said, do I make myself clear?"

People nodded or mumbled their affirmatives. This wasn't good.

The Chief of Engineering, and acting council for the woman he only knows as “Irons” sat directly across from her on a cold metal chair with a cold metal table between them. The robot, Sasha as she was called, seemed perfectly content to stand nearby and positioned herself in his right wing position at secretarial attention rather than military attention.

The prisoner seemed almost dazed at first, taking the room in as she entered before reluctantly sitting on the chair. Large for a woman and slightly taller than the Chief Engineer who stood a meager 165 cm. She had a certain mismatch of proportion between her body and limbs that made her look larger than she really was. She fiddled with a ring on the table meant to handcuff an interrogation target, the steel stressing against her thick, sharpened fingers. But after a moment, she suddenly froze in place, fingers steepled on the table in front of her, and leered at Calhound, her bright red irises boring into his face. Passive threat steamed from her, almost visibly, despite being as still as a strange interactive statue.

Sasha’s ‘fingers’ were gently interlaced, and her stance was even and balanced while Xaith slid into the cold steel chair. He unceremoniously drew the Daedalus Project folder from the envelope and tossed it onto the table. “I don’t have to tell you,” Xaith said reached into the envelope to draw out another folder, “what’s inside that folder.” The Daedalus folder itself was bland and indistinct save for two markings. The first read “Classified: Top Secret” and the second was the emblazoned winged wheel logo.

It was sufficient to show that he had it, let alone that he even knew about it, to make his point and to get her attention. “The folks at Daedalus, and I, were rivals,” Xaith said as the logo of his rivaling project flashed in his EEGARD. “You’re their creation. Sasha is mine. Her body is all that is left from Project Tethys.” As the name implied it the project’s goal was to produce something to replace humans from the battlefield, just as Tethys had no active role in the mythology she was created in. “The past I’m here to talk about doesn’t go that far back, but I did promise you an explanation, so there it is.” Xaith shrugged, and adjusted his glasses. “Now, why don’t you tell me why you’re here.”

Almost gargoyle-like, parts of the cyborg’s body came to life, to pull the folder towards her. She idly flipped through several paged, blinking at them in a neutral fashion until a single page made her stop and narrow her eyes. She seemed to be in thought for a few moments, but eventually closed the bundle of papers.

“I, ah, suppose I’m here for the same reason she is.” The cyborg said casually, gesturing at the artificial woman. “A plan to defeat the extra-terrestrial threat, someone’s passion and drive, to be replaced by a cowardly escape but never truly erased from the heart of the escapee.” Finally, she seemed to regain her ability of facial expression, and smiled lightly at the two. “The difference is the scale - Sasha is your passion, I am humanity’s. To forge their very will into a spear to drive into the heart of natural, universal destruction. To finally defeat nature, to overcome it, to master it, rein it in, control it.” She inhaled. “I am here because this passion will not be defeated by bureaucracy, cowardice or bad luck. My fate is tied to that of this ship.”

Her voice was tinted with a certain artificial echo, but its expressiveness made it sound as if she was just talking through a faulty radio connection, despite being in the same room. “But you are not here to hear my life’s story, Mr. Calhound. If you have kept this rivalry alive for some reason, know that you must act fast or you will not leave this room in one piece. Otherwise, you will have to explain what you want.”

The Sergeant First Class listened intently with his hands folded over the folder he had brought out when she began, and squared neatly before him while she spoke. He grimaced at the comparison Irons made between herself and Sasha. “Were,” he corrected her, reminding her of the tense in which he spoke. “You presume much about this droid–” to which he glanced at Sasha and acknowledging the errant signals warning of Protocol 2: Active in his EEGARD “–and my interest in you as an individual,” he followed up, while trying to get back on track. “The only part of your story I am presently interested in is how you came to be aboard this ship, and made a mess of my department.” The cyborg knitted her eyebrows in a puzzled fashion at these words.

It was Irons’ personnel file, the one that now rested between them on the table, and it contained not only the file she created as it was intended to be seen, but also a copy as he saw it. A copy brimming with red ink. The kind of red ink a child sees on a very badly written essay—as it’s returned by their language arts teacher—as the Sergeant First Class had made it a point to highlight all of the failings contained therein. Xaith pulled out the last page on the file, and set it atop everything else, as to demonstrate it was the only part of the file that mattered to him.

Irons’s ASPECT credentials were on a sticky note affixed to an interview report from Lt. Rorq. “Start here,” he said as he handed her the page, “and work backward. Tell me about this interview.”

The woman took the page, smirking while she skimmed it. But when she reached its end she blinked in puzzlement. “Why?” she raised her eyes at Calhound. “There is nothing to learn from this security breach. Almost all weaknesses and backdoors I used are only relevant on Earth, and the rest can only be utilized if for some reason we have a frozen traitor on board.”

“It may not be relevant to you,” Xaith responded, becoming visibly angry, “But it is relevant to me, and my team.” He leaned in and reached across the table slamming his finger down on Lt.Rorq’s name on the document. “It’s relevant to her.” With the slightest touch on his shoulder by Sasha, the chief of engineering regained his composure with almost mechanical speed and precision. “I’ll only ask this once. Did you interview with my second in command as your file suggests?”

The page was pushed back towards the man. “This is the point, Mr. Calhound, where you’ve overstepped the acceptable amount of threat you address towards me.” The prisoner said dryly. “You must now act upon it, or give me something to gain from cooperating with you. I will suggest getting Mr. TreVayne involved, although that may not be very convenient to you.”

She crossed her arms and leaned back, the chair creaking slightly under her weight. “You are not one of the people responsible for my fate, yet. I do not even know what you are doing here. And while you may say something about me appreciating this change of scenery,” she gestured at the walls of the interrogation room, “your interaction with the warden and his men will come at a price I will pay later. Make it worth my while, Mr. Calhound.”

Though he said nothing, the Chief of Engineering nodded in understanding. He took first the letter that was returned to him, and then the Daedalus project summary file. Still, without saying a single word, he placed the personnel file back in the folder, whilst handing the top secret material to Sasha to destroy. Sasha held the file between thumb and curled index finger and charged its pages with electricity until a slow, flameless incineration consumed the whole file. He stood up and made his way to the door, before pausing to ensure Sasha was in-tow before finally responding.

“I don’t need to threaten you, Ms. Irons,” he said more at the door than to her as he buzzed for the guards, “By never formally accepting my council, the guards felt they were allowed to record this entire interview, despite this being a textbook violation of attorney-client privilege. By allowing our meeting to conclude with your rejecting my offer of council, that video and this file will be entered into evidence against you.” He passed the file to Sasha, in part for safe keeping, but also in part for she knew what the procedure was for entering evidence. He made it a point to make eye contact with the cyborg prisoner as he did. “I don’t need to threaten you, Ms. Irons, because right now you’re a bigger threat to yourself than I could possibly be.”

The prisoner crossed her arms as the Chief of Engineering moved away from the table. His words hit home only after the warden had already unlocked the door. “Wait, legal council? Is this what all of this is!?” She jumped to her feet, immediately becoming the target of the warden’s gaze. This made her line of thought screech to a halt. She may not be very familiar with legal proceedings, but she knew politics, and her mind switched to damage control mode by itself. “This was the most convoluted offer of service I have ever witnessed. You barge into here, interfere with the work of Security, treat me like a hostage without offering a word of explanation, and then say I refuse? Of course I refuse.”

Xaith looked down to his badge which identified him as “Counsel for the Defense,” which had been fully visible the entire time. He then looked to Sasha’s which identified her as his legislative assets, before recollecting that he did explicitly state he came to help her in his introduction. He then turned from the warden to the prisoner. “So, to be clear, you are forfeiting your right to assisted self-advocacy? Or, are you requesting a court appointed attorney?”

“What right of advocacy?” she threw the warden a confused glance, then returned to leering at Xaith. “Are you suggesting I am on trial? We are in space! In a military vessel! You are the Chief of Engineering!” She threw up her hands. “Why would there be any kind of civilian process? I have openly admitted all ‘crimes’ that I committed in order to board this vessel, and as far as I can tell, the only thing standing in the way of my request is a physical and psychological examination.”

A slight twitch of the eyebrow escaped her self control. There was one other thing. The documents presented to her by the man in regard of Project Daedalus did not completely overlap with the ones she managed to steal - What Gavon now had was mainly technical data and evaluation reports. A chapter from what Xaith had was something far worse. A contingency plan was supposedly implanted in each Daedalus agent, to activate in case there would again be a split to factions in face of impending doom. In such a case, the factions would attempt to step on eachothers’ corpses in order to escape death - and the agents would use their power to defeat the other factions and ensure the survival of the NC, effectively using all weapons developed against aliens on their fellow men. She wasn’t sure if he had read this, and if he did, why he wasn’t using it as leverage.

Outwardly, she sighed, rubbing her eyebrows, then sat back down. “If you’re already here--”

“Back up,” SFC Calhound said in total shock. “You were arrested, and detained, without being notified of your rights?” The idea questioned the whole legitimacy of even the grounds on which she was being detained, and invalidated any prior confession given. Even though the ship had a high military presence it still operated under civilian law for civilians and martial law for military members, and both groups were afforded advocacy rights that must be stated by the arresting officers. “As your legal council, I am advising you not to say another word until I return. You'll be escorted back to your cell, and I will address your outstanding unlawful detainment.”

(Another) Collab between @Heat & @Draken

Karen felt odd to be in a lab again, especially one so makeshift as had been crafted out of the Nyx's old brig. It hadn't hit before with all the business to take care of, but Karen had not spent time working in a lab for around seven years. There were only so many tests that could be run on fragments of Devastator exoskeleton, and that didn't leave it entirely clear if it even was an exoskeleton as humans knew them. Instead, she had worked theory with the others, hypothesizing about various potential forms of life, how to first make contact with them - physically or socially, and standardizing a procedure for cataloging them.
There was a growing unease in Karen's stomach. She had felt it all morning, and now that Evie Oliver was no longer helping with last-minute checks on the lab equipment, the solitude only made things worse. On top of that, the ship was cold, both emotionally and, to a lesser extent, thermally. Though the Armani would scoff, Karen never felt quite right in a place without warm colors somewhere in view.
Karen was startled by the sound of Michael's arrival, not from his footsteps but the sharp movement of the door. The pinnacle of professionalism, he had arrived the very minute boarding was supposed to begin. She cursed herself for arriving so early and making it somewhat awkward for the pilot and crew proper.

"Greetings Dr. Anderson, it is a pleasure to see you once again." Michael stated in his usual friendly, well-mannered tone of speaking. A smirk was on his face as he approached her, having put away the case that he had brought on the vessel. The android had familiarized himself with the Nyx, a layout of the ship imbedded on his database for quick reference.

"Oh, hey Michael." She said with a slight jolt. "Feeling confident, it would seem? Or just excited?" Her own nerves showed a bit, though she futilely hoped he didn't notice.

"Mostly excitement, doctor. Though I am supremely confident about the mission, we have some of the very best from the Vitae accompanying us," Michael stated with another perky smile. "It is good to see another of the scientific expertise on the Nyx. We're as needed here as the military personal."

"Indeed," Karen replied, her smile growing less thin, "who knows what important things they would destroy without us. And besides, I know all too well that reports will never amount to being there yourself. It'd practically be a crime for me to miss this." Karen paused, recalling one of the curiosities she'd already been informed of. "Supposedly this planet is covered in vegetation. Now, while I want nothing more than our fighter pilots to be wrong about how similar it is to Earth, that this world is covered in some green material - in zones similar to what we inhabited as well, is far too much to ignore."

Michael blinked at the mention of vegetation. Perhaps like the trees and beauty found in Eden. An Earth-like world was one that fascinated him deeply, he had never set foot upon his creators' homeworld. He had only seen faded images and read old messages about it. He wondered about Karen's words on the subject, did she not want to see such a thing?

"An Earth-like world would be a rarity in the galactic sense. Vegetation would be an encouraging sign, that would give credence to the existence of an oxygen rich atmosphere, or something similar." He'd let his fascination leak into his words.

Karen sighed, not out of disappointment or resentment, but of a sort of defeat. "I suppose you're right. I guess I just really want to find something new and exciting. While people can talk about the endless wonders of life on Earth, almost all of it has been thoroughly researched, and nothing is wholly new. Everything is based on cells, with exactly one exception, and we refused to even classify those as life." Karen was referring to viruses, which both replicated themselves and changed over time to continue doing so, but failed to meet a few other criteria. "I guess I also kinda want to prove my field legitimate. Xenobiology has been heralded as critical to the future of humanity, but we've yet to do much of anything useful. What irony it would be if almost all of the galaxy was near identical to us?"

"Well, I doubt this world if it does indeed contain lifeforms would have ones identical to those that could be found on Earth. An exactness like that down to the cell structure would be most confusing," Michael said with a smile.

Karen laughed a bit at that. "You're right. Actually, it'd raise at least as many questions and it would prevent. Namely what force or beings could cause such uniformity. It'd be the most likely thing to convince me in a God. It would have to be that, or some ancient alien in a Universe that's really not that incredibly old."

"Both possibilities would be quite peculiar. Do not fret doctor, I am sure this world will contain some intriguing forms, even if they are just plant life." The android added in a comforting tone as he briefly followed his words with a reassuring pat on her back, with just enough gentleness that could be considered 'human touch'. The emotional effect was ruined somewhat, though, by the interruption of the intercom. Things were about to start moving.

Cassandra found herself staring at a half-empty mug of coffee, in a nondescript coffee shop near the edges of the hub. It was nothing special; and took most of the flat metal styling that most of the Ark followed. They had good coffee, though, and that was enough for Cassandra to have come here for the few days since the rather eventful launch. Although it was early afternoon within the Ark, there was never an inappropriate time for a good cup of joe.

Cassandra took a sip of the coffee, letting out a disappointed hum when she realized it had begun to cool. Finishing the caffeinated drink, she returned the mug to the shop, before briskly making her way into the bustling streets of the hub. It was currently afternoon on the Ark, as was dictated by the large screen that made up the roof of the hub. Advertisements occasionally streamed across it; typically for one of the many shops that made up the hub.

She yawned, even though she had just drank her coffee. Her first few days on the ark had been rather uneventful, as she had been in one of the squadrons on standby during the launch. However, after said launch, she had been reassigned to the 7th Grave Robbers due to the death of two pilots during the fight to keep the devastators at bay. While she, personally, had nothing against the Grave Robbers, she had yet to introduce herself to the other pilots, past the squad leader, Sara Hawkins, who she had met briefly during an interview.

She wouldn’t have the time to consider it, though, as her PDA let out a sharp ping from her pocket. She pulled it out, to reveal the voice of Noah, the ship’s AI.

“Miss Atkov, your presence is required for an away mission in the hangar” He droned.

“Thank you, Noah, I’ll head there now.”

Without a word, Noah disappeared, and Cassandra quickly made her way to her quarters, which would not take long, as they were located fairly close to the hub. The fact that they were sending an away mission surprised her; unless there was something special to note about one of the planets in the system that they had arrived in, the scouting party’s sensors should have been more than enough to get the data they needed. Even then; why were they sending a fighter squadron along? Were they expecting devastators?

Quelling her thoughts, Cassandra opened the door to her quarters. The room was, by all means, barren; the view screen remained blank, and the only personal possessions that were in the room were her clothes. She changed into the slate-gray flight suit, leaving her gun, and quickly made her way to the nearest transport to make her way to the hangar. The trip was short; and she was quickly greeted by the gleaming hull of the Nyx.

In stark contrast to the blocky design of the Arks, the Nyx was sleek, and Cassandra took a moment to appreciate the flowing curves of it’s design. The boarding ramp was currently down, and at the bottom sat two guards. It appeared the rest of the Grave Robbers must have already boarded.

With a salute, she recited her name and rank, “2nd Lieutenant Cassandra Atkov, 7th Grave Robbers, reporting for the away mission.”

With a nod, the guards allowed her onto the ship, and she trudged up the ramp.

“Welcome aboard the Nyx, Chief.”

One of the two guards at the top of the ramp greeted him with a smile, as they stepped aside to allow Gavon access through the starboard airlock leading into the main corridor of the vessel. It had been several months since he’d seen the inside of a reaper-class starship, as most dropships he was accustomed to were bulky, heavy-armored, and designed for provisions and soldier transport during relief runs throughout most of Europe and the Americas. But the Nyx was more his style; a lean, sleek, and sexy force to be reckoned with, that when things got rough, would sail you through all hell and back again without fail. It’s stealth technology -one of the best Martian engineers could muster up- would certainly lessen the risk of them being caught unaware in the dead of unknown space or an undiscovered planet. He didn’t find the otherwise cold grays and blues of the interior too remarkable, but still practical in it’s low-key aesthetics and design.

A triple beep on his wrist’s datapad indicated an incoming message, which he reluctantly pulled up on the small screen.

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

[ From: Doctor Melanie Larson, Ph.D - Clinical Psychologist ]
[ Subject: Prognosis related to case#11-A2 ]

Mr. TreVayne,

With regard to the currently detained cyborg, I’m informing you that I can be available to meet with her any time after 3:00PM for the next couple of days. Also, my current professional opinion on the subject was favorable, and that it wouldn't impede her chances of getting the job as long as she was willing to meet a few times a week. However, aside from my own opinions, I understand that you or Admiral Locke may still discover other reasons that would negate her acceptance into Ark Security. In either case, please advise at your earliest convenience so I may schedule her appointment.

Regards,

M. Larson

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

“Hm, let’s hope you’re right Doc…” He muttered to himself, before forwarding the message to William Locke, with a notation of: Admiral, this looks acceptable to me, and I’m on board with the idea, barring your blessing of course. -TreVayne”

“May I help you?” A smooth female voice -off to his far right- broke the relative silence as Gavon found himself walking past a large spacious area that seemed about mid-point within the ship, and from the looks of it, would be considered the Mess Hall. The Chief looked up from his datapad and found the source, seated cross legged at one of the round tables nearest to the main corridor, dressed in standard military fatigues, with an insulated mug in one hand and her other arm resting on the table. Dual-toned blonde hair was neatly and systematically tied back in a tight bun, and the intrigued, yet concerned expression on her well-defined face gave the impression that he was an unknown to her eyes.

“Eh, yeah, I was on my way to the bridge to see Captain Anderson, but also looking for Captain Eccleson, as I was told he would be on board now.”

A slight grin formed across the young lady’s lips as her blue eyes briefly assessed the man standing in front of her before responding. “Well yes, she is in fact on board, and you’ve come to the right place.”

Readjusting the camo rucksack slung over his shoulder, he stepped forward a few paces and extended his hand out in greeting. “Excellent. Gavon TreVayne.” He said, returning a friendly smile, and noticing the remnants of what appeared to be scar tissue from a burn partially along the right side of her face and down her neck.

“Ah yes, the Chief of Ark Security?” A subtle but otherwise noticeable rigidness hit the woman’s previously casual pose, as she pivoted and rose from the bucket-style chair, extending her hand to meet his in a firm grasp. “I’ve heard good things about you, and the officers under your command hold you high regard. Captain Bryenna Eccleson at your service.”

Gavon truly had been caught off guard, as his first mistake was assuming that the military ground force detachment’s squad Captain was male. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Captain.” He finally responded after a few moments, doing a poor job of covering his surprise. “But-eh, I’m at a bit of a disadvantage as I didn’t have the time to go over your dossier.”

“It’s quite alright, Chief, I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time during the trip to play catch-up.”

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

The bridge was clear of any personnel save for one man seated at the helm whose attempts at off-key singing would have been better left to a dying warthog. As Gavon approached, walking past the center command consoles and load-bearing beams that obstructed his view, he noticed the source of the terrible voice.
“Captain Anderson.” He finally said after a few moments of watching the man sway side to side in the seat as though an endless song was playing in the Captain’s chaotic head. “I see you’ve made yourself at home.”

“Hmm?, eh..yesh…” Anderson’s response was low and barely audible. “Imma ready...fer...duty Ad-amiral.” His hand slapped against his forehead in a mocking salute as he swiveled the chair to the right facing no one but an empty seat. Gavon took a few paces and stopped within a meter from the man, his nose quickly assaulted by the overwhelming smell of bourbon and sweat permeating the area, and the Chief’s otherwise friendly demeanor went cold at that instant. “You son of a bitch.” He grumbled, crossing his arms. “Just couldn’t help yourself.”

“Hey!” He stuck an accusing finger out and, again, pointed it at no one in particular. “Don you shjudge..meh Amiral fancy pansss…”

“Shit” Gavon mumbled under his breath, as he activated his wrist communicator. “This is Chief TreVayne. Code 10-35, bridge of the Nyx. I need two Agents immediately.”

“Copy that Chief, en route now.”

Anderson, slumped over in the chair, was shaking his head and muttering to himself as beads of sweat trickled down his face onto the floor and incomprehensible words became more like sobbings.

“You need help.” The other finally said in a matter-of-fact tone, as he called into the Vitae’s bridge, requesting to be patched over to Admiral Locke, and explaining the sad state of the Captain and dire need for a new pilot ASAP.

“He WHAT?!” There was a sigh from Locke on the other end of the communicator. “Send him to the brig and let him cool his heels off in there, I’ll deal with him later. Though you can assume that he won’t be flying anything for a long long time. I’ll send down Lt.Colonel Sawyer to lead the mission, good fellow.”

Two Sec Agents emerged from the corridor and stood at attention near the Chief, awaiting instructions. Gavon nodded to them and turned his attention back to Anderson, who was leaning against the console, propping his head up with his arm, and struggling to keep his eyes open and focused.

“And Chief” Locke continued in the Chief’s earpiece. “I don’t need to tell you how important it is for you to protect the interests of the civilian personnel during this mission. Allow them to do their job, but keep close tabs nonetheless. Locke out.”

“You need to go with these men now, Anderson. And without incident.” He said, motioning toward the two Agents, one of which was pulling out a pair of cuffs, which seemed to get the Captain’s attention. “You’ll spend a day or two in the brig, and no doubt Locke may pay you a visit.”

“Locke! Hah!...dah lightweight.” Anderson scoffed. “...Fine...I’ll do it ‘is way...” Anderson said in a gruff voice, shaking his head. “Juss...no cuffs, no cuffs. I don wanna draw an-y unwanned atteshion tah mah-shelf…”

“You’re doing a fine job of that on your own.” Gavon pressed his lips into a thin line, visibly upset with the whole ordeal but keeping his composure professional enough not to beat the shit out of the man who was initially given the responsibility of navigating the reaper-class ship and holding several lives in his hand. He glanced over at the lead Agent and nodded for them both to escort the Captain away, watching the sullen expression of Anderson as they both exchanged a look in passing. The Chief let out a long-awaited deep breath, releasing the tension of the situation, and relieved that it hadn’t escalated into anything worse. He found himself staring out passed the bow’s view ports and into the busy hangar bay, as the last of the supplies were being carried and loaded into the underbelly of the ship.

As Amara paced around the med bay of the Nyx, she checked and rechecked the medical supplies several times. It didn't matter that she had just checked that I.V fluid a minute ago, she was still going to check it again, pace around a little but mre and check it again.

She wasn;t really worried about there being a shortage of supplies. Especially afters checking several times. She was just antsy to get going. The crew of the Nyx were about to be the first humans to set foot on this planet and it felt like she had been waiting a lifetime for the ship to leave. Several of the crew hadn't even shown up yet, which confused the hell out of Amara.

After a while, she decided to go see if any of the mission crew were hanging around the hanger.

She made her way back through the ship, giving several of the crew a haf hearted salute as she went. When she made it to the the entrance ramp, she stopped halfway down to see who was around. She didn't see any of the missing people on her list and grumbled under her breath.

It only took Mackenzie about twenty minutes to arrive at the hangar bay that housed the Nyx. She didn’t know much about the ship, but what she did know came from her father’s notes. They were stored in the system servers, and once she had gained entrance into the Project she couldn’t help herself from poking around. Some things were easily accessed and others were not. Not all of it had made sense to her and he had been involved in so many things it was hard to keep track of them all. The Nyx, however, was a special case. She remembered the days he would spend in his study working on what she assumed were the designs for the Nyx’s weapons systems.

When she finally entered the hangar Mackenzie stopped and took a moment to appreciate the Reaper Class ship. It was then that she noticed a familiar face among the un-expectantly sparsely occupied hangar.

“Well Hot damn, Martian, aren’t you a sight in a dust storm” Mackenzie smirked and waved as she approached her childhood friend.

As Amara turned to see who had addressed her, she narrowed her eyes to focus on the woman approaching but they quickly widened as she realized who it was. “Holy Phobos!” she proclaimed. “Kenzie!?”

An odd feeling rushed over her then. She thought her old friend was dead. She was supposed to be aboard the Citadel and that ark hadn't even made it off of the planet before the devastators had arrived. Amara thought for sure she was dead with everyone else left behind. Seeing her here now, in front of her made her happy but was also a painful reminder of everyone who had died.

Still, her friend was here and in this moment, her happiness outweighed her sorrow. With a smile now planted squarely on her face, she made her way down the Nyx's boarding ramp to meet Kenzie. She grabbed her by the shoulders and looked her over, just to make sure she was real and the stress of the past few days hadn't just driven her insane.

Confident that she wasn't a hallucination, Amara wrapped her arms around Kenzie and pulled her into a hug. An honor Amara reserved for very few people and on even fewer occasions. A childhood friend apparently coming back from the dead seemed like one of those occasions.

“How are you here?” she asked as she pulled out of the hug but kept hold of Kenzie's upper arms as though she would float away if she let go. “I thought you were supposed to be on the Citadel.”

William stood on front of his command console, Carter was on her way down to go and check on the state of the, soon to be, former Colonel Anderson. How pissed off he was was easily noticable, and as such most people worked around him quietly not wanting to earn his ire. One person who seemed to share it was the navigator Jenkins. At least he was smart enough not to drink on the job, a lot had went down with the destruction of their homeworld. Though they all knew it had been coming for a long time, and no-one else in his command staff had decided to hit the bottle while on duty. He was genuinely ashamed.

Lieutenant Colonel Sawyer however was a good man, and he had faith in him. He tapped his earpiece patching him through to the Nyx which currently sat in the belly of the Vitae. "This is the Admiral, status?" The voice of Sawyer greeted him.

"All systems are green Admiral and all crew and supplies are aboard. We're ready for launch, Sir."

"Very good, I expect you to contact as soon as you reach atmosphere."

"Copy that Sir."

"Have a good trip, Locke out." With that he nodded at the comms officer who cut the line. He then turned to his third in command. "I'm going to be in a meeting for the next half hour, let me know when they make contact."

---

James hit a series of buttons on his command console. "Let's get this puppy on the road." The loading ramp raised, at the same time the external docking clamps and airlocks detatched. Typing in another command he activated the PA system aboard the sleek vessel. "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are about to get underway on our mission to the nearby planet. Estimated time of arrival is-" he cast his eyes to the readout before him. "-1057 ship time so total travel time just under half an hour. From there we will deploy scout vessels while we get a good sensor reading of the EM zone that was identified earlier by our very own First Lieutnenant Sara Hawkins before going on to create a landing zone."

The hangar bay below the Nyx opened, the vessel slipping out of the open doors elegantly before the engines kicked in. The sudden acceleration was barely felt from inside the vessel as James went to maximum power. "Enjoy your flight." With that he turned the PA off as the Nyx shot towards the nearby planet. As they began to draw closer and sensor readings started to come in he could barely hide his awe, it was massive and odd. Instead of cold poles, they were deserts and it seemed to become colder around the equator but that area was full of rainforest in a temperate climate. He could already detect the feint EM reading that the T-47 flyby earlier had picked up, was it possible that they were going to find sentient life on the very first planet they visited?

"Telemetry, begin patching through this data to the good Doctor Andersons laboratory. See if she can get anything useful before we get down there." There was the following yes sir though he didn't pay much attention to it as the planet continued to grow in the window before them.

---

Shortly before the Nyx started entering the planets atmosphere the scout ships were launched, as the ship began to dive through the upper layers. The ship shaking slightly as the resistance against it's hull increased, though the shielding and the hull negated the heat that started to build up in the hull. The ship arcing as it turned up from the planets surface until it was flying parallel to it. Telemetry streaming in from the scans, air composition, basic mineral scans, geographic data. It all streamed straight to Doctor Andersons lab for her to pour over, before also being sent back via relay to the Vitae.

Twenty short minutes and the Nyx blasted open a landing zone five kilometres away from the edge of the EM affected zone, lowering itself down slowly into the clearing.

When they were down James hit the PA controls again. "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to a planet no human being has ever set foot on. All away team members please report to Hangar 2. The Scout Ships will be back with telemetry soon."

Kevin Ford spent most of his day in the Archives and in his office doing the usual work. A worker would usually enter the office to ask questions or to leave behind notes for other workers on break. The office job would see tiresome to people, but that was his job back at Earth. Even known he was an ambassador for the Roslin Federation, he spent most of his time at a desk until he was selected to be placed in one of the many arks.

He still didn't understand why President Vincent Quinn would of picked Kevin out of the many other talented ambassadors. Maybe it was just luck that he was selected or Quinn knew that he would be perfect for the Genesis Project. He still felt that he didn't earn the spot on board the Vitae, but he couldn't tell everyone about it. Not even his wife knew that. The others ambassadors were angry at Kevin because he was selected. That's why he left the White House and headed for Africa earlier than expected.

It was almost time for the workers to return back to their rooms or hang out the Hub. Madison and Augustyn checked on Kevin to see if he wanted to go to the Menedéket Café. He declined the offer and said that he needed to talk to the Admiral about stuff. They understool and soon left for the Café, leaving Ford alone. He needed to plan for the discussion before entering the Admiral's office. Then, he took a look at a photo of his family. It was a good picture of his wife among with his sons and himself that they took during their time across America. He picked up the photo and looked at it for a moment. All of a sudden...

"Kevin!" a woman shouted towards him as her voice got louder.

He looked up and turned towards the young woman that just left the Oval Office. Kevin was too busy doing to honest work for the Federation that he didn't notice the woman calling out for him until she shouted. He stood up and said to her, "Sorry, ma'am. I was too focus on work that I."

She stopped Ford for speaking before he could blow his head up. "The President would like to see you." she only said as she walked away for his desk area. Kevin looked around for a moment and got up for his chair. The White House was more busy than ever since the Three Day War happened. Government official would enter and exit out of the Oval Office everyday that it seemed like the President didn't leave that office.

He walked towards the famous white doors and held on the door handles. Then, he entered the office and saw President Vincent Quinn in the office...

Kevin violently got up for his chair and suddenly dropped the photo. He was starting to remember the past and he didn't want to relive them while Earth was burning. Kevin left his office and the Archives quickly as he needed to drink something before meeting with the Admiral. He walked towards one of the transit stations and got on the bus as he sat down and waited for the bus to leave the station.

Once the bus left the station, Ford looked down at the ground so no-one else could see his pale face. He tried to block out the thoughts, but they always came back in one way or another. He closed his eyes and didn't open them for almost a minute. Then, he started to remember...

The famous doors that led to the Oval Office opened up and Kevin entered the office. He saw President Vincent Quinn on the phone, talking to someone about something else. Quinn soon ended the phone call when he saw Kevin. He looked at Ford and said to him as he placed the phone down on the wooden desk, "Please have a seat, Ambassador Ford."

"Thank you, sir." he said as he walked towards the white couch and sat down on one side. President Quinn sat at the other side and looked at Ford trying to say the words, but he couldn't at all.

"I don't know how to say it to you, Ford." Quinn spoke to Ford, "You're one of many ambassadors that helped formed the Council. Hell, you are the one that managed to get the Martians to join as well."

"I was just doing my job, sir." Kevin only said to Quinn.

"You did a hell of a job. That's why I am about to award you with something important." the President said as he got up and walked towards the desk. Kevin looked at him as he opened one of the draws and pulled out an I.D. card. Quinn threw the I.D. card at Kevin as it hit his chest and landed on his leg. He picked it up and looked at it to see his face and the words below the picture:

Kevin Wilson Ford: Head of the Archives.

"No." he said quietly as he felt the I.D. card and looked at the President.

"No.. you can't give this to me." he boldy stated.

"Kevin.." Quinn tried to speak, but Kevin stopped him.

"No. I refuse to accept it, sir." Kevin said as he grabbed the I.D. and tried to give it back to the President.

"I can't take it back. You're already been accepted by one of the arks.." Quinn tried to finish the sentence, but didn't want to hear it as he dropped the card. His plans of spending the final moments with his mother, father, brothers, sisters, and going around the world with them. Having the best of times, like the world was ending. They all were gone the moment that Kevin saw the I.D. card.

"Goddammnit!" he screamed out loud as he covered his mouth and tears began to form. Kevin looked at Quinn and said to him, "Why are you doing this to me? Is this the replacement for some fake shiny gold medal for my work as ambassdor to this Federation?"

"I thought that you'd be happy." Quinn only said towards Ford as he kept crying. Then he gave this disgusting look at the President.

"Happy?!" he said angrly towards the President, "You know that the Devastators are coming back for revenge, right? I am positive that they aren't looking to talk. I have planned years of events that I would of liked to spend with my loved ones. I wanted to travel all over the world and die peacefully with my loved ones, knowing that I did everything that I ever wanted to. Now, I will never have that peace. Even if I manage to survive and become old enough to have grandchildren, I will never be happy with myself."

Kevin covered his face as more tears came out of his face. President Quinn was still confused by the negative action to a second chance in life. Many people would be happy enough to start crying tears of joy, but Kevin was the opposite of those people. In fact, he didn't plan to comfort someone that didn't want to go aboard the arks.

Ford didn't care about being given a second chance at life. He always planned ahead of the present, having backup plans in place. However, he never expected to be accepted aboard one of the arks. He never expected it to happen to him...

Kevin opened his eyes and looked around in a panic as the bus stopped at one of the many stations. He got up from his seat and raced towards his room before he could break down in public and be forced to get 'help.' He didn't want the help at all. He'd rather work all day than face problems hidden within him. Leaving behind Earth and his family was too much for Kevin to handle all at once.

Finally reaching to his room, Kevin began to cry for the first time since being aboard the Vitae. It was good for Kevin to let out all of the pain that he has been keeping for ten minutes until he had to get ready for the meeting with the Admiral. He took a shower, changed clothes, and made himself to look as if he didn't cry at all. With all of the preparation, he left his room and headed for the Admiral's office.

---

William wiped his brow as he sat going through paperwork, he signed another fuel report as he turned to the next piece of business at hand. "Noah." The digital avatar of Noah appeared hovering above his desk, as an emitter was in the middle of the wood styled table.

"Yes Admiral."

"Remind me to never accept an assignment like this ever again."

"Given the nature of the mission, I find it highly unlikely that-"

"It was a joke Noah." William knew that Noah was young as far as a human would go but for an A.I. he was quite old, having been online for ten years. William was still waiting for his sense of humour to pull through, he was told that leaving an A.I on for so long risked the possibility of a personality coming through but so far that didn't appear to be the case, he was as dry and humourless as ever. Though that could always be his personality. He hoped not. "What's next on the to-do list Noah?"

"You have a meeting with Ambassador Kevin Ford in five minutes, following that you have scheduled a check in with the Nyx followed by your rotation on the bridge." He checked the room as he piled his folders into a neat pile on front of him. "Have Ensign Harris bring a pot of coffee and take these files to the bridge, and the have the papers brought to my office that I requested for this meeting."

"Files are already on your desk." William moved some files around, lifting some and moving folders from on top of eachother before he found the one he wanted. Damn A.I knew his desk better than he did.

"Thankyou honey. You're dismissed, though before you go tell the door guard to let the Ambassador straight in."

"Yes sir."

---

One of the guards approached Kevin and lighty snapped his fingers for his attention. Kevin looked up at the guard and put the magazine on the table. The guard told him that the Admiral was available now and went to guard the door again. The ambassador stood up and went towards his office. It was the first that he was able to talk to the Admiral alone. He felt like that he didn't get to say enough during the meeting with the others.The office was much bigger than Kevin's back at the Achives, but it was similiar in appearance.

Kevin went inside the office and saluted at the Admiral as he said, "Admiral, it's a honor that you made time to talk."

He kept his pose until the Admiral told him to have a seat.

William stood up and picked up his folder, indicating to the sofas as he himself went and sat on the sofa opposite the one that the Ambassador would sit at. As they did so Ensign Harris came into the room carrying a tray, without a word being said he came and placed it on the table between them. "Thankyou Harris, the files for you to take to the bridge are on the desk."

The Ensign smiled, likely pleased that William knew his name though with the fact he was basically his aide it was the least William could do."Anytime Ambassador" He picked up the jug full of coffee and poured himself a cup and then placing the jug back down. "Help yourself if you want one."

Leaning back in the seat, coffee in one hand and folder of files in the other he looked directly at the ambassador. "Tell me, what do you know of Martian Politics?"

"Martian Politics?" he questioned the Admiral as he took a seat. The cup of coffee was still there as Kevin didn't want to drink. Why would the Admiral ask a question like that? After all, he made the meeting possible.

"Sir, the Martians were a military-based society. It's government, culture, and people were living a military lifestyle. As for the government, there were governors and a democratic system. The leader of the Martians was the High General and his Trinity. The high general wasn't a lifetime term, but only a person could serve the role for fives years. Other than that, they kept many things to themselves and didn't share with the other members of the Council." Kevin answered the Admiral's question.

William nodded. That was about as much as he expected someone not of Mars to know, many of the innter governmental workings were typically kept 'in house' so to speak. The less others knew, after all, the less threat they posed. It was just one of the things he had gotten used to growing up in a militant society. Not that he felt the bickering system of the Federation or the power hungry vacuum of the Conglomerate did much better, and the Armani couldn't really be said to have a Government full stop.

"While there are a reasonable portion of Martians aboard ship, I think we can both agree that long term military rule aboard a ship with a large civillian population isn't going to go down well, yes?"

"Depends on the situation, sir." Kevin said to the Admiral, "If we are attacked by another unknown force or the Devastators again, then some sort of control has to be established. I am not saying that military rule is the only option. But, you are currently the leader of Vitae—the leader that established that calm control. If the other arks didn't make it and we are the only ones left, then we would need a sense of control before everyone else realize as well. Of course people won't be down for a military rule, like the Martians. However, I believe that you will rule no matter what government you establish once we land on one of the planets."

William shrugged it off. "By the time we settle on a planet my job will be solely protection, that and helping the Vitae be disassembled into whatever form of civilization we decide to form once we've roled out the prefabs" He picked up his cup of coffee and took a sip. "I'm not saying there shouldn't be control, and I'm not relinquishing command as this is my post and nothing short of death is going to keep me from fufilling my duty. What I'm proposing is that we give the civillian population it's own voice, someone to rally behind and they can look to in non-military matters"

He readjusted himself in his seat in order to make himself more comfortable. "I mean obviously people would need to be assured that this person wasn't just a puppet or a figurehead but actually their representative. Think of it like..." He paused for a second as he collected the words. "A division. The job of myself would be to ensure the safety of the vessel, and the people on it. While the job of this individual is to ensure that those people are comfortable and feel represented, bringing up any issues that need to be addressed and really forming our own society," He shrugged his shoulders. "Though you're the one with the political know-how. You can probably tell me how to structure this better."

Kevin nodded as he heard the Admiral's request and began to give some advice, "Based on the time that I spent as Ambassador of the Federation, I do have several advices that I could give to you, sir. The Roslin Federation was based on the United States of America's government before annexing both Mexico and Canada. It had the Constitution and the Bill of Rights that made America special centuries ago. You would need to established some sort of Constitution and a Bill of Rights. At a moment, if you are wanting a President, then we should find someone with a political background and interview them. They would have to able to handle the stress of running and dealing with millions of people. At the moment, most of the civilians are sleeping until they are awaken. Based on the size of the current crew, this will be a perfect test for them. We would need to see if that person can handle the role of being the leader that many civilians—that will soon wake up—have to look up to. Do you want more advice, sir?"

"Well, depending on how long we're in space. I know everyones hoping for a quick trip though I think people need to prepare for the possibility of us not finding a home for a while yet. A Constitution and a Bill of Rights does seem like a valid way to go, after all the Earth Council was more an Alliance than a form of Government, and there wasn't really an official bill between the three parties." He paused as he took a sip of his coffee, he was very obviously contemplating something.

"In terms of candidates, there's a reason you are aboard this Ark. When your President bartered with the Council to get you a seat I snapped you up as soon as I saw your name on a ticket." He shrugged. "I'm not saying it's a permament position,but I feel it best to appoint the first... whatever we're going to call the leader rather than holding an election, the people need certainty not the politics and fuss of an election. Not yet anyway, if I were to appoint a Martian it'd be seen as favouritism and there'd be dispute. Whereas by appointing you the Federals and Conglomerates aboard shouldn't have issue, the hardest faction to get to follow you would be the Armani. After all the Martians will follow you so long as I say you're in charge. Though, there'll be a bit of work to do before we announce this yes?"

Of course the Admiral would ask Kevin to be that leader for 'the people.' That's why he was only accepted aboard the ark. His political background would be perfect for that position, but he didn't want to fight it. If his use was to be the temporary leader until they land somewhere, then he might as well as accept it. After all, President Quinn did push for Kevin to be aboard one of the arks.

Kevin nodded again and said, "Since you only accepted me aboard because of my political background, I accept your request sir."

William held up his hand. "Now I don't want you to think that's all you're here for. You're diplomatic skills and the historical background that comes with that would have gotten you aboard." He relaxed his posture a bit. "I just think you're a perfect candidate to be our first... leader. The biggest job you're going to have to do is find out a word for 'leader' that doesn't make it sound like you're favouring one factions heritage more than the others. Good luck with that one."

William finally passed the folder he was holding over. "I had the liberty to already set up an office elsewhere in the ship, as well as offices for your staff. We probably shouldn't make the announcement yet however in that folder are the files of people I feel you'd find as valuable members of your staff. Though of course you're free to pick your own staff members, without enlisting from the military of course. Which is one thing I know you'll remain clear on, is that I am still in charge of this ship. Anyway-" He clapped his hands together."Do you have anything else you need to talk to me about? I'm sure I've just increased your workload a little bit."

Kevin listened as the Admiral talked about what was going to happen for the next several weeks until the official announcement. But, he had some questions to ask. "What's going to happen to the Archives? When will the office be available? And do I get military access to the rest of the ship?" Kevin asked.

"The archives, I'm sure you know of one of your peers who is more than capable of looking after that section. The office is also available as soon as you want it, I had the insight to have it built while the ship was still being constructed. Doctor Lavernius wasn't happy to be tucked away in a smaller lab, but in the end he still got to survive the destruction of humanity and an increase in support." At the mention of military access he leaned forward again, going from relaxed to attentive. "What kind of military access is it you're after?"

"Since I will also be dealing with the martians and spacers, I got to show that I am behind the military and the security to get their support. The bridge, the hanger, and sector 75 should be good enough to gain public support for their 'leader." Kevin answered the Admiral's question. He knew that he wasn't going to be happy that Kevin wanted access to the Bridge, but he had a good reason to be there.

"You'll get into the hangar under escort, sector 75 with the same deal as it's largely for training purposes anyway. You will get access to the bridge, but only when and how I say. You can't just arrive, you'll be invited and it will never be during an operation. You have my trust, or I wouldn't be offering you this, but I'm not having a civillian on my bridge during a crisis. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir." Kevin said as he reached for the folder and stood up. "Well, I'd love to keep talking to you sir; however, I have a speech to write up that won't cause a riot. Thank you, sir."

He stopped at the doorway and turned to the Admiral and asked, "Where is the office located at?"

"Take your time on the speech, work on the important things first. I'm not expecting it to be quick, but get the framework ready first. When that's ready let me know and I'll write my own speech." He stood up himself, walking the man to the door and offering his hand to shake.

"Just ask your personal assistant. She's right outside."

"Thanks again, sir." Kevin said as he left the office and went to the personal assistant. He knew that things are going to get more difficult, but he knew that he could handle it until they landed somewhere.

Mackenzie almost gasped aloud when Amara embraced her. It was a mark of tenderness that Amara rarely if ever showed, and for a moment it caught her by complete surprise. Mackenzie was sure that she had only ever seen Amara hug her father once in the entire time she had known them. It wasn’t that Amara had ever been callous by any means, but being reserved was just a thing that Amara was. Mackenzie, her glasses pushed slightly off her nose, finally relaxed and wrapped her own arms around Amara.

“ I, uh, was transferred three days before, Uh, we left,” Mackenzie said with a hint of sadness in her voice. The attack hadn’t been discussed much since the Ark had jumped into Hyperspace. They were all still in shock and mourning. Even mentioning the Devastators brought some people to tears. Mackenzie had spent a few weeks aboard the Citadel. A seed of nausea sat at the bottom of her stomach every time she thought of the fact that it, like a few others, had not yet launched when the attack had begun.

“Seemed that the Vitae had an opening in Robotics they needed to fill” Mackenzie smirked. That was the truth, but she had a creeping suspicion that it wasn’t the whole truth. Her encounter with Michael only strengthened that conviction. “I am sorry; I should have messaged you as soon as I was aboard. Things just got, Uh, busy”

Amara couldn't help but feel somewhat upset. If Mackenzie had been aboard the Vitae for three days before launch, that meant she had been here for almost a week and still hadn't contacted her. She could understand it, though. Kenzie had a habit of getting wrapped up in her work and losing track of time. With everything that had been going on lately, Amara understood why it had taken her friend so long. Everyone was busy and preoccupied with so much other stuff.

“Well, you're here now. That's all that matters,” said Amara with the slightest smile. But then she realized something and she looked back at the Nyx. Mackenzie may have been there, but she was about to leave for the planet. Her smile faded for a brief moment but it reappeared when she turned back to her friend and then said, “We need to catch up but...uh..” She through a thumb over her shoulder at the ship and added “It's going to have to wait I'm afraid. I'm about to head down to the planet.”

“No, worries,” Mackenzie chuckled and pushed her glasses back into place. “That’s kinda why I am here. I Gotta do a diagnostic check on those FSX-30M Droids heading down to the planet. Wouldn’t want anything to malfunction on the very first mission.” She continued as she stepped up next to Amara so they could both look at the impressive ship.

“Dig the Uniform, by the way. Although, could they have made it any tighter? You look like you're gonna have to carry a big stick” Mackenzie jested even though she knew Amara didn't always find her jokes amusing. The last few minutes had been a little too unnerving and She wanted to get back to the way things had always been.

Amara ran a hand across her torso as she felt the form-fitting uniform. Her eyes dropped to the floor in mock embarrassment but she couldn't help but smile at Kenzie's joke. She actually liked her uniform, despite how tight it looked. It allowed her a full range of motion, which she appreciated, given how much running, jumping and climbing she did on an average day.

The uniform was pretty revealing in its tightness though and she definitely got some looks. Hardly anyone did anything more than look, however. Half because of who her father was and half because they knew Amara would probably kick their asses. She played along with Kenzie's joke though and said with a wry smile “Well, you know me. I have to do that even without the uniform.”

" Still the toughest Bitch in the Sandbox. If you keep beating up all the boys you'll scare them off the rest of us." Mackenzie sighed knowing full well "boys" had always preferred Amara over her. It brought back a memory from school, where a boy she had liked was actively pursuing Amara. He and Amara had dated for a while, but it obviously never worked out. It still stung a bit, but she never really faulted Amara. Especially since she never told Amara she liked the guy.

"So a little running and coffee when you get back?" Mackenzie said looking down at her datapad for a moment. She needed to figure out where the Droid storage was aboard the Nyx.

"That sounds great. We should catch up," replied Amara. "I mean, you know...if the aliens don't kill and eat me first." The young medic's dark humor showed again but even though her comment had been a joke, Amara couldn't help but feel both excited and a little anxious about what kind of life forms they might find on the planet. She quickly dismissed the thoughts for now though and half turned back to the Nyx. Motioning with her arm in the direction of the ship, she asked Kenzie "Care for a tour?"

"Absolutely!" Mackenzie said as she followed Amara into the Nyx.