Rebellion in Repose...

Echo's eyes fluttered slightly as she slowly woke up. She wasn't sure where the phrase came from - some snippet of a half remembered dream, perhaps - but her first thought on waking was that it would make a badass name for a new song. She smiled slightly to herself. Inspiration strikes at odd moments, after all.

A massive yawn broke her train of thought, and the Amani realized that she was all but face down in her pillow as she got a mouthful of the smooth material. Snorting and hacking a bit, Echo forced herself to roll over, unkinking wiry limbs that had been twisted into seemingly uncomfortable positions over the course of one hell of a deep sleep. Wincing at the stiffness of her neck, she turned bleary blue eyes to the chrono at the side of her bed, taking in the time and happily realizing that she wasn't scheduled to be anywhere for a good hour and a half.

That lasted for all of two seconds before Echo blinked away the sleep and read the time piece correctly and realized that she actually had only thirty minutes.

"Oh fuck!" She lurched up with a squawk and fumbled her way past the guitar she'd fallen asleep plucking at and tumbled headlong out of bed and onto the floor. "Motherfucker..." Snarling she shoved herself into a standing position and struggled out of her t-shirt and towards the shower. A short trail of doffed clothing and curses quickly appeared to show the path between her bed and the bathroom, and soon Echo was immersed in a scalding spray of water.

By the time she made it back into her living area, Echo was far more awake and in a much better mood. She wasn't scheduled for any particular duty, no requests on her plate to take care of, which meant she would have the chance to work on some ides and projects of her own that didn't involve fixing things other people broke. In particular she was keen to start working on a plan she'd come up with to improve the output of the Destriers' engines and maneuverability. They were work horse ships, to be certain, and not made for speed and agility. With a little tinkering and a healthy dose of Echo Olveira Genius (TM), the life long spacer was convinced that she could give them a bit more oomph when it came to getting in and out of dangerous spots.

Washed, awake, and bright blue hair brushed into submission, Echo nimbly dodged over the remnants of last night's clothes and commenced the assault on her closet. Flame motif underwear, check. Black bra, check. Black cargo pants, check. White tank top with neon red skull and crossbones on the front, check. Black suspenders hanging loose at her sides, check. Black work boots with random drawings in silver ink, check. Array of leather and steel wristbands on her right arm, check. Super useful and difficult to break chrono on her left arm, check. Looking like a fucking bad ass boss, check.

Time to go kick some ass.

A hasty sandwich made from the leftovers of last night's dinner in hand and her black tool bag slung across her chest, Echo grabbed up her data slate and ear piece, shoving the former into a pocket and the latter into her left ear. A last look around the room to ensure she hadn't forgotten anything pressing and she was off and bouncing through the door.

"Play List: Riot's Requiem." Growling, breakneck speed music immediately began playing through her ear piece as Echo set off down the corridor, and for a moment, at least, all was right with the world.

Though Clara may have let people think she was a cheery airhead, she was actually quite clever. Maybe not as smart as some but at least smart enough to know that security was here for a reason. She was hardly about to send them away. Especially after that meltdown comment. “You and I can step into a private room but your guards will wait outside the door.”

Before Chizuru had a chance to object, Clara had already turned her back and was moving away, motioning with her hand over her shoulder for the others to follow. She was doing her best to channel Amara right now. She appeared calm on the outside but on the inside, she was stressed and more than a little worried. Just like everyone else right now. The cyborg glanced at her escorts, as if looking for council in their featureless faces. “Well, she’s the boss.” she eventually shrugged, then followed. The droids fell into step, and the security guards dispersed after making sure there wasn’t any other trouble.

The medic led Chizuru and security through the extensive medbay, checking several rooms along the way, only to find them occupied. She eventually found a small room that wasn't currently being used and stepped inside, holding the door open for Chizuru. “Frankly I’m surprised there’s a free room.” she said, looking behind her to see if the droids follow before taking a seat in the room. They stopped outside of the room, like two bodyguards of a VIP patient, only facing towards the room and not away from it.

But once the door closed behind Clara, the cyborg sprung to her feet. “Listen - This may seem like a burden to you, but this evaluation is of the utmost importance to the security and safety of the Vitae,” she exclaimed, her already noticeable NC accent becoming even heavier. “And seeing as most of the participants in the Planetfall are here, time is of the essence. Now - do you have any experience in pathology or engineering?”

Clara recoiled slightly when Chizuru approached. She would likely have moved a lot further if it weren't for the fact that her back was now pressed against the door. Always eager to take people at face value though, Clara quickly relaxed as Chizuru spoke. the cyborg's words seeming genuine. Amara had lectured her before about this approach to people but Clara thought it better to give people the benefit of the doubt....At least until they gave her a reason not to.

“You'd be surprised.” she offered by way of a reply to Chizuru's question after scrunching her face up in thought. She smiled again and patted Chizuru on the shoulders as she tried to squeeze past, her smile faltering slightly as her hands touched the cold metal of the cyborgs arms. “But...just to be on the safe side...maybe I should get some help here.” she said with her back to the other woman as she pulled a small device from her belt and started pressing the screen. Chizuru's claim that her medical was of the utmost importance to the safety of everyone aboard the ark had only increased Clara's belief that she was woefully under skilled for such a task, so she planned to call in backup. She had seem Mackenzie Newton around the medbay only moments ago and who better to help with a cyborg than the head of the robotics department? Clara quickly tapped out a message to Kenzie, quickly but briefly explaining the situation, and hit send. Just to be on the safe side, she also sent a message to Amara. None of the doctors were free but Amara was just as good as a doctor so maybe she could help. She waited for a brief moment until she received a response to both

“Right...” she began as she turned back around to Chizuru. “Don't worry, we'll get you fully checked out. I'm sure you'll be fine...Oh!” she blurted out, visibly jumping at her own sudden realization. “I'm Clara by the way.” She thrust her hand out towards Chizuru and offered her a genuinely friendly smile, as though the person standing in front of her wasn't a heavily modified cyborg death machine. It/she looked at her own hand for a moment, an assortment of claws made for ripping through heavy armor, and sighed.

“Yeah, I guess this is impolite, isn’t it?” Chizuru took a few steps back, then stopped. With a low hiss, various small bits of her armor began to twist, until eventually the larger armor plates moved out of the way. Out of the large and intimidating exosuit came a young woman, far eastern in appearance. She was toned but thin, and it took Clara a moment to realize the bluish plastic, matte metal and gray sickly-looking skin was not another suit. Her body was patched with a variety of materials, some quite obviously replacing internal organs and muscles, and others including deeply-embedded hardware ports probably designed to interface between body and suit.

Clara tried her best not to look surprised but failed miserably and her eyes widened as Chizuru stepped from her exoskeleton. She looked less robotic now but still not quite human. Still, it would make Clara’s job a lot easier.

“Yama-uchi Chizuru.” The slightly metallic modulation was still present in the woman’s voice, as well as her red and black eyes. She shook Clara’s hand with one covered by intricate copper figures and cold to the touch. “You are nice. I will make an extra effort to save you.”

Clara raised an eyebrow at Chizuru’s statement, simultaneously confused and flattered. “Um...Thanks?” she replied, half posing it as a question.

Mackenzie sighed deeply standing up from her seat. She had not heard any news of Agent Edwards surgery in a while and she finally gave up waiting here. She would wait back in Robotics. That's when her Datapad beeped and flashed an incoming message from Clara Albright. She opened it quickly, vaguely recognising the name of the sender.

Could you please meet me in the MedBay Room 12B ASAP. I have an issue that could use your expertise.

-Clara Albright

At that point her interest was peaked. It was highly unusual for a member of the Med team to contact her directly. Most of the time, when there were issues with a droid, a work order would be created and then it would be put in the system. She began to move in the direction she thought the private rooms would be in. Only looking up from her datapad as she bumped into someone. He cursed as he bent down to pick up everything he had been carrying and was now spread across the floor thanks to Mackenzie. She apologised profusely and even attempted to help. However, he grumbled and just shooed her away. It seemed that all the medics were still tense from all the chaos.

When Mackenzie reached the room stated in her message she was surprised to find it heavily guarded by two security Droids. For a moment she hesitated. She reopened the message to make sure she had the correct room. She did. Slowly she walked up the guards and cleared her throat.

“ Ahh, It seems I have been called in by Clara Albright. Is it alright If I go in?” she asked as she gestured toward the door. They continued to stare down at her, emotionless. Then the droids suddenly moved away from the door to allow her access. Timidly she said thanks and knocked on the door gently to announce her entrance.

The door quickly swung open from the other side and Clara practically burst out, only stopping to do a doubletake when she spotted the security droids. She had been so distracted by Chizuru that she almost forgot the hulking droids were there. “She’s with me.” she said from the threshold, reaching out to grab Kenzie by the arm and dragging her inside with nothing but a “Hi.”

“Clara!” came a familiar voice from down the hallway and Clara peaked around the corner of the doorway again to see Amara coming their way. She smiled at her friend, happy to see her and more than a little relieved. Clara waved to her, signalling for her to come into the room. Amara hurried to the room but she slowed as she approached the security droids. As she passed them by she asked Clara “What’s so urgent? And what’s with the--Oh!”

She had all the answers she needed upon seeing Chizuru as she stepped into the room. She had already been made aware of the stowaway’s presence aboard the Vitae. One of the benefits of being the boss’s daughter. She hadn’t expected to see her here through.

“And I thought my day couldn’t get any weirder.” she half muttered with a weary sigh as she turned around to close the door behind her.

Mackenzie yelped as she had been suddenly pulled into the room. She barely even had time to wrap her mind around what was happening before Amara was with them as well.

The cyborg took the newcomers in with her artificial eyes. “Well,” she blinked, “I did not expect to see the Chief of Robotics here so fast. Well done, Clara.” She gave the Ph.D a wide smile. “I had planned on dropping by at a later date, but really, my medical and technical check-ups can’t be separated anyway.”

She walked to the back of the room, where a bed was set with various medical machinery hanging over it. “On another thought, I will drop by your lab anyway. This equipment is inadequate. Your presence here would mainly be as backup to read the medical monitoring data. But let’s get down to business.”

The black exoskeleton still standing in the middle of the room like some kind of tasteless modern art piece, loomed behind the Cyborg in a stance of subtle threat as she spoke. “We are gathered here today to protect what we cherish most - us, or in a broader sense, the Vitae. In order to greatly upgrade Mr. TreVayne’s security forces, a bureaucratic and technical procedure is required, set by our very own Mr. Locke. This procedure includes a medical and technical examination, as well as a psychological evaluation, which I assume has already been completed, some short parole, topped off by what I assume to be a job interview. It is within all of our interests to make each step as thorough and professional as possible, but also as quick as possible, especially in light of the recent failed planetfall.”

“In short, please check if I am fit for duty. If so, forward your approval to Mr. TreVayne. If not, please set me on the right path to compensate.”

Clara, still with a smile on her face, looked from Chizuru to the others, noting their confusion, and then back at the cyborg before she cheerily stated “OK then.” With a clap of her hands she said “Let’s get started.”

For a long moment Mackenzie just stared at the woman who resembled Frankenstein’s monster. The bluish tint of her skin reminded Mackenzie of those whom had frozen to death during one of Mars’ cold storms. Whatever this woman was, it clearly wasn't human anymore. She had seen and heard of people going to extreme measures to prolong and improve their existence through technology, but this was morbidly perverse. Then the woman grinned back at her and Mackenzie's stomach lerched.

“ Wait what exactly is going on here?” Mackenzie asked completely confused. She looked to Amara and then Back to the woman on the table. “ No offense, but who the Hell are you?”

Capsized in Calm Waters...

Sgt. Manash Ranjavi was, as usual, hard at work keeping the schedules and equipment lists for the engineering department up to date, organized, and running smoothly. Also as per usual his uniform was crisp, neat, and perfectly within regulations. He knew everything there was to know about how to keep his department and himself running within the guidelines of the ship's regulations and he did his job very well, even if he did say so himself. Manash scoffed at those who said that being a glorified supply clerk and desk jockey was less honorable or important for a military man than being a fighter pilot, or security agent, or any of the other positions that involved fighting and killing. None of those positions would be possible without someone smart, efficient, and organized making sure that they had all of their equipment and that said equipment was in the best possible condition. And Manash was all of those things, to a tee.

What he was not very good at, on the other hand, was dealing with Echo Olveira.

"Yo Manny!" Echo grinned as she saw the the dark skinned engineering clerk stiffen and wince at the sound of her voice. There was a faint click from the data slate in her hand as she snapped a picture at the same moment, capturing the uncomfortable reaction of the poor bastard for posterity. Hell that might be good enough to make it up onto the wall with the dozens of other pictures arrayed around her room.

"Miss Olveira..." Manny turned away from the computerized inventory he'd been going over to face her, his face one of strained politeness as the blue-haired engineer jumped up to perch on the edge of his desk. "What can I help you with?"

"Heya Manny. I need to check out a diag pad for a Destrier and a set of 87-X spanners, puh-lease." Echo threw the man a big smile as she slid her data slate back into one thigh pocket. Immediately the man's brows furrowed and a contentious look came over his face. It was amazing how often Manny wore that expression when Echo started asking for things.

"I'm sorry, why would you need equipment for working on a Destrier? I clearly have you scheduled for the next three rotations to continue working on the launch catapult in sector 67-Alpha."

"Already finished it."

"What? You've only been working on it for two rotations, there's no way you could be done already."

"One and a half rotations. Check the log, Manny-my-man. I replaced a hydraulic feed and recalibrated the second, third, and fourth relay couplings to get rid of that hiccup, and then did the same with the fifth, sixth, and eighth couplings to boost its efficiency and reduce wear while I was at it." Echo smiled at him again and waved her hand casually as if to say the work had been nothing more than child's play.

"You did all that in two rotations? I don-"

"One and a half."

"...what?"

"I did it in one and a half rotations. Spent the last half of the second one explaining launch stress factors to one of the security guys."

Without another word Manny turned and pulled up a set of records on his terminal, fingers snapping over the keypad. Echo could see his watery brown eyes flicking back and forth as he took in the information displayed, his expression growing just a tiniest bit sicker with each passing second. It wasn't, really, that he disliked Echo, or that he didn't appreciate her skills. On the contrary he found himself constantly impressed and little bit in awe of the Amani girl. It was just that she was constantly disrupting his schedules and planned allocation of resources. He'd never once had to deal with someone quite so disruptive back on Earth.

Recovering, he turned back to Echo. "Well, nicely done then. If that's the case I do have a condenser terminal that-"

"No."

"...what?"

Echo sighed, frowning in mock disapproval. "C'mon Manny, you know the agreement. If I finish up early on whatever you ask me to do I get the rest of the scheduled time for other projects that don't involve fixing what other people break. Just give me the diag pad and the spanners, and I'll be out of your hair. What's left of it."

Ignoring the girl's crack about his thinning hair, Manny turned away and stepped into the supply room behind him to grab the gear Echo wanted. He knew when he was beat. He also knew that it happened every time he had to deal with her. Echo only smiled and bounced off with the equipment and a quick faux-salute as she left the exasperated desk jockey behind.

An hour later Echo was wedged inside a maintenance hatch on one of the Vitae's Destrier gunships, only her legs from the knees down visible as she examined a series of power couplings that fed to one of the craft's main engines. She thought she'd identified a series of power leaks that she could eliminate as well as a way to improve the overall efficiency of the power being delivered to the engines, thereby increasing both the thrust and the responsiveness. Somewhere in the midst of plucking at her guitar she'd calculated roughly a point five percent improvement. Nothing world shattering but it could be enough to spell the difference between life and death for those on board.

It was a goal that had become ever so much starker after the disaster that had been the crew's first planetfall.

"Marco!"

"Polo!" Echo winced as soon as she'd instinctively called out the response. She knew the rough, smoky voice that had called out instantly, and it wasn't exactly someone she was eager to see at the moment.

"There you are, girl. Butt deep in the mysterious inner workings of one machine or another, as usual. What are you doing in there, anyhow?" Echo sighed quietly to herself and wiggled out of the Destrier's maintenance hatch, spanner gripped in one hand. The woman leaning against the side of the ship watching her was tall and stunning, as usual. Ebony skin, sparkling eyes so dark they were almost black, shiny hair pulled back and twisted behind her head. Her generous curves were wrapped in a half open flight suit with the name Manchester stitched on the chest. She wore a white t-shirt underneath and a welcoming smile that always seemed to say that all was right with the world.

It wasn't, but that smile always seemed to think so.

"Tana! What's up?" Echo forced a smile of her own, but was pretty certain that it looked at least a little strained.

"Not a whole lot, my girl. Heard you were somewhere here in the hangar and figured I'd hunt you down. Figured I'd find you crawling inside some hard to reach place filled with moving parts and grease. And lo and behold." Tana gestured towards the open maintenance hatch. "What are you doing anyways? I get nervous when people start playing with my ride." Tana was a pilot, typically for the Destrier gunships. She could fly most of the Vitae's compliment without a problem, of course, but the Destrier was her favorite and the one she was best with.

"Had an idea to make it a bit quicker. Maybe handle a little better. Figured even a small increase could help keep you guys from running into something the next time you get in a hurry."

"Serious? That's awesome, Echo! God knows I love these things but I'll be the first to admit that nimble is not the word to use for them."

There was a small shared laugh between the two that quickly devolved into an uncomfortable silence. Smiles slowly melted away into the half expressions of people who didn't quite know what to say to each other, and Echo could feel a distinct twisting in her gut. For a moment she thought she might actually get sick. That would be just so fucking lovely.

"Look, Echo. About the other night. I just wanted to apologize to you-"

Echo shook her head emphatically, automatically reaching out and touching Tana's arm before drawing back her hand quickly. "Woah, woah, space ranger. You don't have anything to apologize for. I never should have tried to kiss you, it was way over the line." And there it was, out in the open like a proverbial pack of dogs, bursting through an opened gate. No direction, no control, just a stream of noise. "I was... I was lonely, and you were there, and I was just... feeling sorry for myself-"

"And drunk. Don't forget drunk."

"And very drunk. Yeah. Definitely that."

"Look, Echo," Tana straightened, putting one hand on her hip. "You're by far one of my best friends out here and I don't want anything to get in the way of that. You know I love you, just not... like that."

Echo leaned back against the Destrier with a thud and sigh. "I know, trust me. Booze and loneliness are apparently not a good combination for me. Especially with you being all sexy and shit. You should try being ugly or something."

Tana laughed and smiled a very real and very big smile. "I'll keep that in mind. Sexiness levels turned down with Echo gets drunk."

"Maybe I'll just take pictures next time." Echo grinned. "You know, for later."

"You're terrible." Tana swept Echo up in a powerful embrace, proving that there was definitely some muscle under that flight suit. "Still love you Riot Chick."

Echo hugged her back, starting to feel like they'd be able to put the embarrassment of before behind them. "Love you too Fly Girl."

Tana stepped back and released Echo. "Factory after shift? You, me, and Holden?"

"Absolutely. I'll meet you guys there, ok?"

Tana gave her a thumbs up and headed back out into the hangar, while Echo watched her go with a sigh. "Sometimes, Echo my girl, you're an idiot."

Footsteps could be hear nearing the laboratory, a single set of them as a clean shaven man in a security officer's uniform entered through the sliding doors of the science lab in which Michael, Dr. Phillips and a few others were currently working in. The android was the first one to notice the prescense of the newcomer, his enhanced hearing picking up the steps before the others as his synthetic blue eyes momentarily stared at the man. A common look of curiosity was on Michael's face, this time a different type than usual. Internally he wondered why this security officer had shown up here. Quickly he believed that he had come to the reason and once more his eyes swivled over towards the now encased orb.

"Hello there, officer, how can we help you?" Dr. Phillips asked as he turned towards the new arrival who was now looking at the orb from a distance, then shifted his calm look towards Phillips. Wondering if the man was here to speak to Michael, this hunch proven correct moments later.

"Greetings, I am Officer Levine," The man said with a nod, as he shook the scientist's hand. Then he glanced over towards Michael, the orb in the background. "I came to speak with Mr. Smith about his discovery of this orb. It will not take very long."

"That's quite alright, officer. Isn't it Michael?" Phillips asked as he turned towards his creation and essentially known as his prodigy to everyone else on the ship.

"Of course, I would be happy to answer any questions pertaining to it," Michael said with a smile as he approached Levine, then extended a hand for the man to shake which the officer did. "It is a pleasure to meet you, officer."

"Yes, now follow me Mr. Smith, we have a lot to talk about." The no-nonsense security officer stated as he pulled his hand back after the handshake, then headed out of the laboratory with Michael alongide him.

"Please, you can just call me Michael. May I ask where you are taking me?" The android requested as he then inquired where Levine was leading him.

He assumed to somewhere quiet where they could speak and he could answer any questions from the man. Of course Michael may have needed to be careful with his answers, to not give away too much that would indicate he was a machine and not an actual human. He did not enjoy lying, but it was impertive that his true identity remained a secret.

"Just to one of the security stations nearby, Michael. It won't take long I'm sure." Levine replied as he moved, his boots clicking against the metallic floor.

Soon both arrived at one of the transit stations, then stepped inside of a mostly empty transport. Michael sat down and gazed out the window, taking in the view below as they flew towards the nearest station. Levine remained standing with his arms crossed. Then both men reached their destination and left the transports, a few people milled around the security station, one officer standing outside with his arms folded over his chest. Levine nodded at the man as he walked through the open front entrance, Michael following him inside.

Right near the entrance was a desk with a busy secretary behind it typing into a console. A small group of civilians sat seated on one side of the room, having come to the security station to report crimes. More officers stood around, some chatting while others spoke with citizens of the Vitae. Levine lead Michael to a door on the side of the room, then down a hallway, shut doors on each side of it. The security agent then entered the last door on the left, and motioned for Michael to follow him inside.

"Please have a seat, would you like something to drink?" Levine asked as both men entered into the room.

Michael figuring out that it was normally used for interrogating criminals, though he was not here for a criminal offense. A single table was in the middle with two chairs, one on each side of it. The synethic man did as the security officer requested and sat down. The room had no scent, and it was very quiet, perfect for conversation.

"No thank you." Michael replied politly as Levine sat down on the opposite chair, then pulled it in towards the table. He pulled a datapad from one of the pockets of his uniform and flicked it on, the screen lighting up.

"So you are 24 years old, Michael? You have no family aboard the Vitae, that is correct? You assist Dr. Phillips and the others in the labs?" Levine inquired first, checking to make sure the brief file on Michael's background in the ship's database was accurate. Much of it was in fact fabricated, though no one but a very select few aboard the vessel knew that.

"Yes, that it all correct. My family died when I was very young, I barely remember my parents, Dr. Phillips was a close friend of my father, I have known him for a very long time, my entire adult life at least." Michael replied, reciting the files in his internal database that served as a fictious memory. Levine nodded in reply as the files were proven to be correct.

"Now, let's start with how you initially discovered the orb. How did you come upon it exactly? The two agents that had accompanied you gave their own accounts but I'd like to hear your own. I understand if it is a difficult subject to think about, considering how badly the mission ended up going." Levine stated, he had lost people he'd known on the mission, not any close friends but collegues.

"Yes, it saddens me to think about it, so many lives lost so unpredicatably, but I will try to answer to the best of my abilities." Michael said, not initially showing much sadness about the deaths on the first voyage to an alien world, then his lips formed into a frown before he spoke again.

"We came upon a sector with several floating large orbs, identical in design to the one we later recovered, only they were much larger. I was fascinated by this, remnants of an ancient alien civiliation perhaps, my mind was filled with all sorts of possibilites. Those in charge of the expedition set up a perimeter, an area in which we were allowed to explore, of course accompanied by security agents. I was paired with Dr. Mackenzie Newton for this mission, she's an intelligent woman, a brillant mind and someone I consider a friend." He paused as Levine spoke up.

"Alright, now what lead you to finding the orb now aboard the Vitae?" The officer asked as he stared at Michael, having jotted down a few important notes on his datapad.

"Mackenzie and I moved away from the transport, and headed up a pathway which looped around a pillar, one of the largest orbs at the top of it. The two security personal with us, Gurrera and Edwards, both instructed us to be careful and to not stray too far from the others. As we reached the top, a long walkway lead out towards the large orb. I asked to inspect this orb alongside Mackenzie, we did so while the two agents stayed back and watched us causiously. We both approached the orb while I moved closest and reached out to touch it. A flash of blue pulsated from the construct, then part of folded downwards to form a door which I stepped inside." He replied, speaking calmly and clearly.

"Then as soon as you entered into this large 'orb', it closed behind you sealing you inside?" Levine asked, recalling what Edwards had reported happened.

"Yes, but only for a moment. In the center upon some sort of pedestal was the orb now present on the ship, nothing else was inside. For a brief minute there was only darkness, yet I could hear something strange, alien. Like I was being spoken to in words I could not understand. As I moved closer towards the miniature orb the words only grew louder, the device itself lit up the same blue the larger orb briefly emitted." Michael continued as he recalled the recent events, careful to not give away too much.

"Wait, you heard words? Like you were being spoken to? No one else reported this, can you elaborate on that? You didn't understand them?" Levine requested as he typed into his datapad.

"I did not understand any of them, even the way they were spoken did not compare to any human language I know of. The way they were said stuck with me, it felt like each word penetrated into my mind and reverberated there. I'm not sure quite how to describe it. It was like I was being screamed at as my fingers touched the orb, then I pulled the device from its pedestal the words went quiet. Once my fingertips grazed the orb shivers shot through my spine, and I felt my body shake for a brief moment. Then the walls of the large orb around me collapsed." Michael recalled, leaving out the deeper sensations which illuminated and shook his inner workings.

"Fascinating. The agents said the orb did collapse upon itself and you were standing amidst it, clenching the lit orb, they reported nothing occuring outside while you were in there. Then the mission started to go south, can you continue?" Levine replied with a nod as he typed in what Michael had just spoke of. This was an interesting development, he would need to inform command of it.

"The agents questioned me briefly, though I was still reeling in surprise from what had just happened. We descended from the pillar and returned to ground level right as the insects began their assault on us and the others. While I held the orb in my hand it went silent, no more of the alien voices. I was seperated from Mackenzie and the others, a large horde of insects focusing on me and causing me to panic. I ran away from them, still holding the orb as they chased after me. I ended up heading further into the forest in my panic." Michael elaborated, as he continued to speak with a calmness.

"Edwards and Dr. Newton made it back to the Beast before you, Gurrera meanwhile went out in search of you. Could you tell me about that and your return back to the Beast?" Levine asked as he glanced at Michael, continuing the questioning.

"It was by sheer luck, officer. I managed to find a path back to the Beast, and ran like hell back towards it. All the while the insects continued to pursue me, there were so many of them, dozens, maybe hundreds. By some chance I survived, along the way finding Gurrera. He thought I was dead, I grabbed him by the arm and we sprinted back towards the Beast, making it back to safety." He stated, a smirk midway through it.

"Interesting, it is a miracle you made it back in one piece. The orb has remained 'quiet' ever since you took it from inside the larger one?" Levine asked, sensing their meeting was coming to an end soon.

"Yes, the light went out on it and its shown no signs of activity since then. I believe Phillips and the others are going to examine it carefully soon, I already told him everything that happened to me during the mission." The android said as he scratched his neck, not feeling an itch there but his programming simply instructing him to do it to appear that much more human.

"Hm, well you've given me a great deal of information. The orb of interest to a few in the upper echelon of command on the Vitae, I'm sure they will be intrigued to hear what you have told me. I think that concludes our chat, you're free to leave, perhaps we will speak again." Levine stated as he finished typing into his datapad.

Then Officer Levine rose from his seat and moved towards the door and ushered for Michael to leave the room. The synthetic man did as he was instructed, leaving the security station having answered the questions the best he could, feeling he had not given away too much information.

The Sound and the Fury...

The image in the mirror stared back at Echo with a wry, calculating expression on her face. She'd been off shift for thirty minutes and Tana and Holden would be waiting on her by the time she got to the Factory. Thirty minutes and she'd changed three times. Three stupid times. She didn't normally take so long to get dressed, and she fumed at the fact that she was doing so now. It was just that after the awkwardness with Tana and the resulting several days of stress about it, Echo wasn't feeling her normally confident bad ass self. At least when she had time to think about it, that was, and she was thinking way too much right now.

"Oh fuck you, mirror." With a snarl she began ripping off clothes and throwing them at her bed, leaving her clad in nothing but the underwear and bra she'd put on before her shift. The sleeve of colorful, intermixed tattoos on her left arm from shoulder to wrist stood out in stark contrast to the twisting, tribal-esque ones inked across the right side of her torso. "I am so over this nonsense." Echo snatched up a black flame decorated tank and denim jeans, jamming them on. Boots and jewelry followed as well as a dark blue cap over her vibrant blue hair. With a last obscene gesture at the mirror, Echo snagged up her data pad and ear piece and hurried out of the room.

Ten minutes later Echo was standing in the door of the Factory, letting the pounding music wash over her like a healing wave. Music always lifted her up, made her feel like her problems were so much less than they had been before. With the right tunes anything was possible, any obstacle could be conquered. With the right tunes she could take on the whole Devastator fleet single-handedly.

A wildly waving hand caught her attention, and Echo saw both Tana and Holden seated about halfway back through the room, the woman standing up and gesturing wildly with both arms. Echo smiled and began shoving through the relatively small but still noisy and in the way crowd. It didn't take long to reach the small table that they'd claimed, and Echo paused for a second, looking at her two friends. Tana was all long limbs and just the right curves. Black pants and a bright, low cut white short sleeved shirt hugged those curves, showing off a healthy amount of cleavage and well toned arms with vibrantly dark skin. For his part, Holden was the same as always. Denim jeans, a black t-shirt, blonde hair atop a Boy Scout face, and the trim but powerful physique of the professional soldier that he was.

Echo dropped into the last chair at the table, finding a drink already in place waiting for her. "Ah, you guys know just how to make me happy!" With an expert flick of the wrist she tossed back the fiery liquid, blinking back tears in the aftermath. "Oh hell, what the fuck was that?" Holden and Tana laughed, quickly joined by Echo.

"Hey Holden, where's Jeannie?" Jeannie was Holden's girlfriend and a scientist in the hydroponics labs. The petite, mousy little brunette knew more about plants than Echo could ever hope or want to know. In all honesty, she hadn't ever even been on Echo's radar as existing until she and Holden got together. Apparently they'd spent about a week working in the same area of the ship and it had been instant connection. Zap. Since then the two of them were almost inseparable. It was to the point that seeing Holden without Jeannie seemed somehow odd.

"Working on some project. Something about phosphates. Or something. I really didn't understand what she was trying to explain, went right over my head." Holden shrugged. He made no secret of his difficult in grasping the sciency-technical stuff that both Jeannie and Echo worked with on a daily basis. Holden knew security, and fighting, and he knew them well, but a scholar he was not.

Tana snorted, a decidedly unladylike sound that she tended to make when she found something really amusing. "Considering that you're like two feet taller than she is, she must have one hell of an arm." Echo and Tana exploded with laughter at the admittedly lame but still somehow still funny joke, while Holden treated them both to a fake glare of fake outrage, that only made them both laugh even harder. So far, the night was starting off well.

It didn't take too long of a time, or too many drinks, to get the two girls out on dancing. Holden wasn't one for dancing, particularly when Jeannie wasn't around. As it was he was busy on his datapad messaging back and forth with her. That was fine though, neither Echo nor Tana ever expected the big guy to join them, and would have frankly been rather damn surprised if he had.

The music was pounding, the adrenaline was rushing, and the crowd was alive. The awkwardness between Echo and Tana seemed to have gone completely, and their previous comfort and familiarity had come back in its place. This, more than anything, had Echo riding on an emotional high, buoyed by music and good company. Hence why she didn't notice just how close she was to the table before she bumped into it.

Echo immediately jumped back, her eyes going wide even as cries of anger erupted from the three people who had been sitting at the table as their drinks spilled onto laps and floor. "Oh hell, I am so sorry! I didn't see-"

Shit.

While two of the three from the table were desperately trying to pick up glasses and bottles, or clean off their clothes, the third was now looming very close and very angrily right in Echo's face. Unfortunately, she knew that particular loom and the individual to which it was attached. Ansel Mueller. Big, burly. Security guy of some sort, tended to hang around the hangar. And for some reason, he seemed to absolutely hate her. Not a chance went by when Ansel didn't give her one of his well refined and well used glares and on the occasions where they needed to communicate for one reason or another, it was without exception short and uncomfortable. Thing was, Echo had no idea what she'd ever done to earn the guy's apparent dislike.

"I should have fucking known it was you, Olveira. Why can't you watch where the hell you're going?" Echo tried to smile, forcing it onto her face. The guy was pretty clearly drunk, and she didn't imagine he was a happy drunk at the best of times. Not at all.

"Hey," Echo began. She could feel Tana just behind her. "Hey, I'm so sorry Ansel. I didn't realize I was so close to the table. I'll buy a round to make up for it, ok?"

"How about you and your little friend go fuck yourselves, heh?" Echo was suddenly backing up, her hands raised. Even still she could feel her own temper fraying, heat rising into her cheeks. "You stupid little vacc-rat spacer bitch."

The world suddenly went cold around her. There it was. The reason Ansel was always so hostile, so angry towards her. Vacc-rat. The modern equivalent of a racial slur. There was a small but virulent portion of Earth's population that blamed the Armani for the invasion, for drawing the attention of the Devastators and the subsequent death and destruction. Never mind the fact that the Armani had lost as much or more than anyone else, that the destruction of the Citadel had been a massive blow to the spacers. And now it was out in the open. Ansel hated her not for anything she'd done, but simply for what she was. It was the worst of old Earth, brought forward into the new life they were trying to build.

Echo's growing anger had quickly blossomed into all out rage. She stared up into that twisted, snarling expression and wanted nothing more than to knock the ugly look from the big man's blocky face. She wouldn't get the chance, however. There was a punch thrown, but it wasn't Echo who threw it.

Ansel staggered back, tripping over a chair and hitting the ground. Hard. Tana stood half in front of Echo, her hands balled into fists and rage write large and scary across her beautiful dark-skinned face. She worked the fingers of her right hand, the one that she'd used to knock Ansel onto his ass. "Don't you ever talk to my friend like that again, Ansel Mueller! Or I swear to god I will not use my fist next time but a fucking chair. You got it, big guy? I don't ever want to hear you saying that kind of trash or I will find a way to get you assigned to cleaning out the waste system by fucking hand for the rest of your life."

Echo's rage had suddenly dissipated, sucked away by the astonishment she felt at watching Tana not only belt Ansel, but knock him quite literally onto his ass and then scold him like an unruly child. Echo knew all about her own temper, but Tana was not typically one to get angry. Especially not punch someone in the face angry. She was the calm, collected one. Echo was the anger bomb.

Suddenly she found herself pulled away from the scene of the crime, Tana being jerked along right with her. Holden had taken a solid grip on one of each of their arms and was propelling them without hesitation of pleasantries across the floor of the Factory and to the entrance. The shift from pulsing lights in the darkness out into the lighter conditions outside of the club was jarring and Echo found herself blinking into Holden's face as he spun the two of them around.

"Go, get out of here. I'll deal with Ansel."

"Holden, wait-" Echo began, only to be cut off by a curt gesture from her friend.

"No argument. Get out of here, go back to your quarters, something. I'll deal with this. Now. Dealing with assholes is my area of expertise, remember?"

Echo sighed and nodded. Tana leaned forward and kissed Holden on the cheek with a quiet thanks. Echo snagged the other girl's hand and pulled her away from the bar and towards the nearest transport hub. "Let's go Fly Girl, looks like the party's over for the time being."

There was an awkward silence. The cyborg blinked, looked at Clara, then at Amara, who looked as close to rolling her eyes as was physically possible. “You… didn’t get the memo?” She tilted her head at Mackenzie. “There was supposed to be eventually scheduled a full physical evaluation of one “Yama-uchi Chizuru” for reasons either disclosed or not.”

She looked at the woman in disbelief, then sighed. “Ah yes. Walls of bureaucracy, forever keeping us from doing our jobs. This may seem sudden, but the mission is more important than the introduction. Especially since the time of the medical staff is of great value and the crew of the Vitae is in danger.”

“Thus,” she spread her hands, “I only ask you to do what you do best. Find a malfunction. If you can.”

There was another awkward silence until Amara decided she had had quite enough of all that. “Alright.” she commented after glancing around at the other women in the room. She wandered over to a nearby cabinet and opened it, having a quick look around until her eye landed on what she was searching for. She set it down in front of her and then rummaged around in a drawer for a second. When she turned back around, she held in her hands a small scanner and a set of needles. She then made her way back to Chizuru as she said with an obvious sigh “We’re going to need to run some tests. Blood work and such....” She trailed off as a thought occurred to her. “From the reports I read on you, you have some violent tendencies. You don’t plan to kill me if I stick a needle in you do you?”

The question, to Amara at least, had been a joke but from the corner of her eye she saw Clara tense up. The smile immediately dropping from her face. Amara did her best not to roll her eyes again.

Mackenzie was at a loss for words. She still did not know who or what this woman was. However, it was pretty clear as to why she had been called in. Though she had to admit, she was a little confused as to why Xaith was not here as well. If this was indeed vital to the Ark’s survival he would most definitely want to be involved. Annoyingly so.

Putting all that aside for the moment, she stepped forward toward Chizuru’s table. She also put aside any fear she might feel towards the woman. It was obvious that, at the moment, she harbored no ill will.

Mackenzie bit her lower lip as she analyzed the woman. In her mind, she categorized each visible technological component to what function it might hold.

“Can you tell me exactly what percentage of you is mechanical?” Mackenzie asked as Amara walked up beside her.

“Percentage?” Chizuru tilted her head. She casually took the scanner from Amara’s hands, and removed a panel to reveal a tiny disposable blood vial. “Do you want that in volume, weight, importance or cost?”

While waiting for the answer, she removed the vial, and pushed it against a needle that appeared to extend from her abdomen. “In volume, it’s about fifty-fifty,” the vial slowly filled with an unnaturally bright red liquid, looking almost like paint, “in weight, seventy five percent, in importance, hmm… the relationship is symbiotic so fifty fifty, and cost, well,”

She extended a delicate hand with the vial to Amara. It was half-full, a fairly small dose. “My blood is very durable, and can be tested upon numerous times. I also have very little of it so try to make due with what you have. Now, what is the cost of a human life to you?”

Amara was surprised when Chizuru took the scanner from her. Though she didn't object, Clara knew she was more than a little annoyed. Her jaw clenched and her eyes narrowed and Clara knew that if she and Mackenzie hadn't been in the room, she would be a lot more vocal about her annoyance. Instead she quietly steamed as Chizuru answered Makenzie's question in a roundabout fashion.

She was somewhat mesmerised by the process Chizuru went through to extract her own blood, watching with a curiosity that outweighed her annoyance. She wasn't very interested in the mechanical side of things but Chizuru's statement about her blood was very interesting to her. When the cyborg handed her the vial of blood, Amara chose not to answer her question, leaving that up to Kenzie. Instead she snatched her scanner back and wandered away to the other side of the small room, turning her back to the others. She was quickly joined by Clara, who seemed to be as interested in the blood as she was. A love of blood sure was a strange thing for these friends to share.

Mackenzie did not know how to answer Chizuru’s question. As a pacifist she had often contemplated that and had determined long ago that no life was worth more than another. She knew in this day and age that not many shared her views on such matters. All too often the few were sacrificed in the name of the many but who decided which few.
She took in a deep breath as her heart skipped a beat in guilt. She knew full well that her being here on the Ark was hypocritical if that view. It had caused many sleepless nights.

“ What regulates your actions?” She asked wondering if Chizuru still had a brain or if it was all computer controlled. “ is there a way for me to port into your systems as I'm guessing you're not Wifi compatible” Mackenzie smiled weakly after her poor attempt at a joke.

But the cyborg’s face was as serious as a grave. “Not Wifi compatible? Now listen here - “ she pointed a finger at Newton’s face, “I am compatible with near arbitrary physical level communication on sub-hertz up to x-ray with as much channel separation as my processing power allows, and up to a hundred channels of wired arbitrary communication without special equipment. But,” she spread her hands, “I have been keeping my RF capabilities offline since boarding, as I expect a cyber attack from the ship’s AI at any moment, and I am better at protecting wired ports.”

“So you will need something physical to interface with my mind.” she thought for a moment, then rose from the bed and walked towards the Ph.D. “Though I must wonder - computer or biological brain, when you get the data you need, when you are talking to me right now, how sure are you of your ability to tell the difference? Is there a difference at all? Is your mind better than a computer’s because it is squishy? Both make calculations, both need energy and coolant, and with sufficient hardware overhead both will look identical from the outside.”

She stopped inches from the Chief of Robotics, staring hard into her eyes. “Are you scared, Dr. Newton, of artificial people walking among you? Do you usually reduce others to the material composition of their central processor? What regulates your actions?”

The cyborg didn’t sound angry, per se. But that was probably a bad sign.

The command center was filled with its usual noises and ideal chatter as those in it worked to ensure the Vitae ran to its best even during the current lull period. Holograms illuminated the center, while screens around the large room were lit up with all kinds of different displays. Admiral Locke had his hands folded behind the small of his back as he glanced through the various holograms that hovered in front of him in the center of the room. Several of them were star systems which the crew on the bridge was hard at work researching as all figured out their next step to finding a new home for humanity.

It was momentarily quiet, then a single voice spoke out louder than the others, filled with surprise and confusion.

"Admiral, we've received a distress signal. I'm, um, pinpointing the exact location but it is not far." A clean cut man seated at a console to the right of Locke spoke. His words slow as he stated what the ship had indeed stumbled upon in the middle of nowhere.

"A distress signal? Are you sure? It can't be a glitch can it? Put it up on the main console, ensign." Locke ordered as he stared briefly at the man, as surprised as the ensign that had just relayed him the information.

A few seconds later the display on the central console shifted, now only displayed was a single orb with a pulsing red dot on the upper part of it as it the world slowly rotated. Scientific data appeared on the screen below, including a name, P1B-726. It was a mountainous desert world, other than the distress signal it was of zero interest to the crew of the Vitae. The Admiral, and just about everyone else in the room gazed at the holograph, all of them wondering what exactly was going on.

"Yes, sir. It is a stationary signal, apparently beamed to any vessel that comes within its range. I cannot understand what it says, other than that it comes onto the channel as a signal of distress." The ensign replied.

"It has to be of alien origin. God knows how long that has been transmitting." Locke wondered out loud as his mind swirled with questions. Could it have been a trap? It couldn't have been another one of the Arks, that was impossible. They needed to investigate it, too many questions to answer and they had nothing to lose, he would just need to be more careful with this. Locke did not want to bring home more body bags.

"Attempt to radio it, ensign. Get me more data on that planet, I want everything we know about it. Set a course to orbit the world, then once we're within that distance I want recon ships launched to know what exactly we're getting into. I am going to be drawing a team to go planetside and investigate it. " Locke said, giving out orders one after another.

People moved more quickly around the command center while the Admiral readied himself for another mission. No lives would be thrown away this time.

There was a reverence about the Glade as earlier in that morning songs of mourning racked the air and yet still echoed in the corridors. It was on behalf of those poor souls who died on the planet's surface so far from their own world. Now it was a sullen silence that befell the Geological Research Institute. From the heart of the Cathedral to the outer-most mouths of the River.


The news of the deaths on the planet's surface came to the men and women of The Glades they way news always travels in the underworld. Through whispers on the surface. Through the faces of those affected by hearts twisting with knives. Through emanations of grief beyond the control of the uninitiated, and that which is reflected off the tongues of the unsympathetic and sympathetic alike. As large as the ship was it was minuscule when compared to, and confronted with, the controversy of loss. The air about the ship itself had changed and The Keeper of Traditions would need be metaphysically blind to not notice.

She called upon the congregations, cabals, and covens in the area to speak, to pray, preform rituals, or otherwise offer up kindness into the Vitae to help fill hearts of the survivors, before darkness could rush in in the hole cut out by the death of family and friends. It was in light of this that she stood atop the Cathedral with another in an attempt to create a new light to bathe the Cathedral in.


A manifold technician stood uncomfortably on the roof, with Aria Summers, and once again attempted to refute the insanity in which he had been ordered to participate. "The mark two hydro-plasmetic cleansing gate is an older model. Almost discontinued before the Vitae's construction..." His sentence found no footing on the technically under-educated. While he had not been, nor could not be, ordered to participate in their ritual he had been requisitioned to install a fixture that would be used for religions devotion. Still, the emphatic emphasis of the inferior technology did little to move the heavily robed leader of ritual who presided over its installation.

Aria Summers turned her head to inspect the technician and, as she did so, her face peaked out from her cowl revealing it had been painted to resemble that of a skull. "Yes," the word was pushed through pursed lips, "It is attuned with the flow of life, and its ending. It will serve perfectly."

The technician shook his head, and tapped his fingers to his forehead, before thrusting his hands outward in frustration. "But it's not hooked up to to anything!" The rectangular gate stood exposed, poised to burn in the open air. Its original design, as he continually explained for the last hour, was that it was part of the waste reprocessing system and meant to be installed within adjoining. Hydrogen-oxygen plasma was to flow through it, as to strip the impurities from it, thereby allowing water to be broken into its base components for storage as its component elements could be more easily compressed than their compound form.

The Keeper of Traditions dismissively waved her hands at the explanation, and grasped only a superficial understanding of the technical specifics as she inspected the frame from all sides. "It bears the cleansing reflection of renewal. Through this gate those lost souls may choose to pass to find their way into the first plane."

The technician burred his face in his hands and through them came a furtive muttering "You can't teach a pig to sing. You'll waste your time and annoy the pig." A long dejected sigh parsed his words as he followed up, "Alright lady. Whatever you say," he finished by pointing to various elements of the machine, "Don't touch the feed, or the plasma. You know what just don't touch anything."

The skeletally adorned priestess nodded. "One does not defile a sacred relic of cleansing with dirty hands."

It was perhaps the most exasperating assignment of the technician's week. While he had better things to be doing, the religions based in the Geological Research Institute were often given unparalleled latitude to practice their religions so long as doing so did not interfere in the ships operation or personal safety of any whom lived aboard. He argued with his superiors that setting up a water cleansing system on top of a roof would be a waste of resources and power, but had been informed that the coven's members had each volunteered a portion of their energy allowance as a tithe to ensure its continual operation for the next two weeks.

It was clear that he did not understand, and as he worked Aria Summers decided to educate him. "There is no religion on Earth wherein one simply passes to their final destination immediately after death." She gently caressed the filter's frame. "And, the first Astral is an emotional reflection of the material realm. In that way there are many heavens, and many hells. It is this device's emotional resonance of cleansing that shall draw these souls back to us."

It was here on the GRI's central spire that, through some orchestration, the spiritual energies of the Vitae's nature all coincided. As much as it was the physical heart of the ship it was also the ship's soul. The souls of those lost on the planet would find their way here, be it through being caught in the tide, or by the shining beacon that had constructed and they would then be able to be cleansed by passing through this oculus.



A light floof sound came from the priestess as she flopped into the ground in the Garden of Eden. Her layered and heavy robes unevenly distributing the air over the grass as her cowl fell away and her eyes turned 'heavenward'. Her crown tarnished by her painted face which, in turn, was faded and smudged from the day's wear. The dark colors associated with funeral attire was blatantly out of place in the vibrant greens of the park.



Despite it's 'natural' aesthetic, its simulated sky and horizons, and real clouds created by careful weather control, it was rare to see an under-city naturalist in places like these. Even so, Aria only found herself here by walking the River and finding that many branches and wells were devoted to keeping these places alive. She had spent all day considering and attending to the supernatural needs of those in and outside of her community and felt that was why she was guided to this place.

While dressed as death she allowed herself to sink a little further into the dirt, a millimeter or two, but one need not dig any deeper to find the lie of this place. Of places like this, and the reason why the undercity naturalists stayed away. While one might expect the facade to only go skin deep, she imagined that was not the case, as her travels in the river indicated that the ground here was no less than five meters deep at any given point. Therein lie the problem.

As she lay in the grass the harsh truth all but landed on her face with that of an insect perching itself on her nose. For all the natural ingredients in her cosmetics, as well as the branches she walked, she had certainly amassed an innate set of chemicals in her skin that was certain to confuse the brightly colored yellow and black arthropod. The bee crawled momentarily along her face before she breathed a shallow gust to discourage it from continuing and to find a flower instead to pollinate.

It was more than a thinly veiled lie that the people told themselves. It was a piece cut directly from the Earth and cultivated to be its own ecosystem. In this park, and others like it, was a deviation: a total corruption of the natural energies of both their old and new worlds. A pocket of nature and natural manipulated by those with no thought to its place or its nature. It inspired a sense of unease in the priestess, and she drifted to sleep bathing in the spiritual turmoil it was certain to invoke in others. Others who refused to visit without really understanding what about the place forbade them from feeling at peace in it. With luck she might have nightmares in this place. Dreams in which she battles this cancer and comes to better know those who suffer from it.