---

Mason ducked back behind the alcove as laser fire filled the hall. Their spooked ally didn’t seem to have been hit as he join Rod and the others in the battle. Mason Stayed behind the alcove, following the team forward as they moved up to close the distance between them. It wasn’t a long fight, but it felt like it lasted ages. Once the gunfire had ended, Mason cautiously looked in either direction down the hall. So far it was clear. But his quick assessment was soon proven false. Not soon after, another figure, a pirate came up and took a shot at Rod. Mason was not sure where he came from, perhaps hiding in another alcove much like the one the trash chute was stationed. What followed was a rollercoaster of dangers. First was the shot, which missed, but released the incendiary grenade Rod had stashed in his pack, which wasn’t damaged.

“Bad is right.” Said Mason, “I know Astrid mentioned a grenade, but I can see almost no reason why you would actually bring one.” Mason shook his head, but soon his calm lecture turned into a startle. With the pirate’s death, he seemed to be able to fire his rifle one last time. Rod was in the perfect position to take the shot head on. Mason acted quickly. The pirate was indeed dead, so that was the last the rifle would fire. The helmet was designed to help deflect oncoming fire, but not even it could completely withstand a pointblank shot from a high charged energy weapon. Mason was not equipped to deal with such trauma, and even if Rod was still alive, he’d be dead by the time he could bring him to the emergency medical kit back on the shuttle.

Things were going from bad to worse. The pirates were more than likely alerted about the fire fight. Undoubtedly reinforcements were on their way. This gave the team very little time. They’d need a distraction in order to give the team enough time to get the hostages registered with the teleporter. Mason noticed just to the side of the two bodies was incendiary grenade.

“That might work.” Mason grabbed the grenade. He removed his mask and put it over Rod’s damaged helmet. While the damage could still be seen through the faint blue light the mask emitted it worked well enough to hide any obvious trauma at a glance. It would look like an enemy soldier was sitting against the wall to any pirate who rounded the corner. The pirate might then immediately engage without noticing it’s a dead body. He then rested the grenade under the man’s thump and primed it.

“Sorry Rod.” Said Mason, “We thank you for your service” He then led the rest of Alpha team down the rest of the hall towards the cargo hold. Just his luck, there weren’t any guards. If there were, they were probably the ones that engaged them earlier. The door was locked, however, but nothing that one of his team couldn’t handle.

“Give me a second.” Spoke one of the lesser crew who join team Alpha on this mission. He started working on the keypad that was next to the door. It was a six by six grid without any discernable markings. As the man worked, different symbols appeared over each of the buttons. As he worked, Mason could hear footsteps coming from down the hall. A loud voice accompanied them.

“Damnit Winky. I will not stand if you killed any of the…” the voice trailed, “We have an intruder! Find them! Secure our bargaining chip!” the voice was loud and held an air of authority. Was that Du-Vos? It didn’t matter, their time was running out fast. Mason was really counting on that nerve gas now. If it would not make them drowsy, at least he hoped it’d throw off their aim just a bit.

“Got it.” Spoke their lock picking friend. The doors opened, and the team quickly entered the room. Huddled in a corner were a large group of men and women, the passengers from the Moray. Perfect. Most if not all of them were sitting on the ground, laying against each other. Some were dozing off to sleep. The nerve gas had done its job well with the hostages at least. They were groggy, and a bit sluggish in their movements, but seemed fine for the most part.

“Quickly, register them and then get them out of here.” Commanded Mason. He heard some laser fire from out the door, which the team had sealed behind them. It was only a couple shots, but if they had shot Rod’s body then…

A loud boom echoed through the hall. By disrupting Rod’s body, the pirates had fully armed the grenade, and it had gone off. Hopefully the blast would block that path with debris and flames. Mason only spared a couple seconds to pay attention to the sounds coming from the hall. The foot steps resumed. Damnit, these squid people were a resilient bunch. He urged everyone to work as quickly as they could. As each team from alpha registered a hostage, they immediately teleported them to the shuttle. Hopefully Robin and the pilot would help sort them so they weren’t tripping over each other.

Mason walked up to one of the older gentlemen who seemed more awake than the other, “Quickly now, is this everyone?” questioned Mason, “We know the little boy was returned, but was anyone else taken?” The man seemed groggily unaware of the question, taking painfully too long to realized what the question was. Once he snapped out of it, he confirmed that no one else was removed, and that everyone who was taken hostage was here in the cargo hold. Mason sighed with relief and then got the man out of there.

When the team was about halfway finished with the evacuation, the hold was filled with the sound of banging as someone very large was bashing the door. This Du-Vos character. His size really complimented his strength as the door began to cave. One more good hit, and the lock would be useless and the door could open freely. Mason waited with baited breath, grabbing a hold of one of the team’s laser rifles and took cover behind one of the larger metal crates prepared to fire at the intruder. The chance didn’t come as soon the whole room shook. That wasn’t another incendiary grenade. Mason paused, as did the force banging the door. Soon the room shook again. The lights dimmed and an alarm blared throughout the ship. A voice spoke over the intercom. “W-We’re under attack! The Prize has opened fire. The Moray has also opened fire.” The hall was then filled with expletives as heavy footsteps quickly rushed away.

“It looks like team Beta had done what they needed to and were now attacking the pirate’s vessel.” Shouted Mason, “We don’t have much time left, lets go.” Mason dropped the gun and went to help get the other hostages. His coms were blowing up with communications from Captain Carabello urging they hurry with their mission. Mason didn’t pay it much mind as he was doing just that. Sparks flew as the pirate’s ship took damage. Loud booms of impact could be heard within the cargo hold as it continued to be attacked. Energy being diverted and fire from the pirate’s own weaponry could also be heard, a proper battle between ships was well underway.

Once the last person was registered and teleported, Mason and his crew left as well. Back on the shuttle, Mason found himself crowded with everyone almost shoulder to shoulder. All the seats were occupied, and the rest stood in the center of the cabin. Mason pushed his way to the front where the pilot and presumably Robin were.

“That’s everyone.” He stated almost out of breath, “We should go now. As you can see, beta and the Captain are engaging now. I don’t want to be caught in the crossfire. I’m going to look after the hostages to see if any of them need medical attention.” Mason left the front before any of those who weren’t present on the actual pirate ship could ask about Rod. It’d be brought up if the captain held a debriefing, but for now they should just get out of harms way.

And there it was. Alpha team had the hostages secured, and the pirates officially had no bargaining chips.

"Signal for a cease-fire. Hail them," Captain Carabello ordered. The crewmen obliged, but when the pirates answered the hail, the viewscreen was completely blank. Weird, Carabello thought, but out loud he said: "The battle must have damaged their communications array." Then, speaking up: "Pirate vessel, can you hear me?"

A tense pause from the other end. Finally, a dazed voice speaks through static: "...yeah, yeah, we hear you."

"Good," Carabello replies. At least that went right. "Uh, good. We are hailing to negotiate your surrender. The human hostages have been released from your cargo hold."

"Oh," the dazed voice says back. "Have they?"

What? How could he not have noticed? "Um, yes, sir, they have."

"...when?"

Realization dawned on Carabello, along with a smirk. Robin's poison must have finally had an effect. The pirates were all drugged and feeling half-drunk. That would be why their torpedoes never hit directly. Okay, yeah, that's pretty hilarious.

"The Prize accepts your surrender, pirate vessel."
"...huh? Did we... surrender?"
"Yes," Nick lied, "just a moment ago. Captain Du-Vos ordered it."
"...oh. Okay."



With the pirate's "surrender" accepted by both parties, getting the hostages safely onboard the Prize was an easy enough job. Within just a few hours, the hostages were back on their way to New Paris, and a dedicated ISA policing vessel had boarded the pirates.

Du-Vos and Winky were both found dead, along with the Prize security officer named Rod. During the debriefing, Nick held a moment of silence for his lost officer. The rest of the pirate crew was being delivered handily into police custody. Easy work, since half of them had fallen asleep at their posts. Everything was well.

Well, almost everything. The pirate's torpedoes had damaged the Prize just enough to make repairs necessary. So instead of heading valiantly through the wormhole, the Prize headed valiantly back to a nearby ISA starbase for repairs. But that was just fine with Nick. After such a stressful mission, the crew deserved some rest.

And they would have it. The starbase, named Deep Solar 3, was a decent enough place. It was partly a military base, set up to keep on eye on the Kepler's Passage wormhole. On the side, though, it worked as a trading post between ISA and the humanoid natives of a planet in the same system. It had shops, restaurants, a medical bay, ferries to the planet, and (reportedly) even a bar.

Which was good, because the Prize would be there for at least a few days. In the brief briefing, Nick gives every member of his crew permission to spend as much off time on Deep Solar 3 as they wish. And as the airlock opens and his crew steps out onto the starbase, Nick thinks: Have fun while you can, everyone. We'll be at it again before you know.

Cake didn’t respond right away and Elm noticed that the star on her tablet turned grey and minimized into a corner. She figured that the A.I. is busy elsewhere, probably assisting the crew with the ongoing mission, and since Elm’s request was hardly a priority, she just left a message in the system. Elm also sent a note to her two assistants about what happened and why the greenhouse is on lockdown. Greenhouse 7 was sealed shut and locked with her personal code, no one else should be able to access it until the matter with the murderous plant is resolved. She did this just in case her assistants wanted to play heroes. Nothing against being initiative, but the ship is going to an unexplored part of the galaxy, it is probably going to be hard to find replacement postgrad botany students there.

Originally she wanted to go straight into the lab and start working on the chemical to pacify Escallonia - even without the samples, she could prepare a general carrier substance and be ready to add specific substances later. But she realized she should probably go change as her uniform was torn in shreds, giving her rather ‘interesting’ appearance. She used a piece of cloth to wrap the wounds on her wrists and headed to her quarters.

As soon as she left the part of the ship where various laboratories were located, she noticed crewmembers running around, escorting several confused-looking people from the hangar towards the medical bay. Elm realized that these must be the hostages from the pirate ship and was pleased that no one seemed to be seriously hurt.

“That was a fast mission,” she mumbled as she got out of the way of a soldier carrying a young boy in his arms. She shook her head. “These pirates stop at nothing.” Selling a child to a slave market, what kind of a creature does that?

Even though Elm wanted to go right back to work, healing the injuries had taken a toll on her body and she felt exhausted. So she turned the UV lights on instead and took a long, refreshing nap.



When the Prize reached Deep Solar 3, Elm was just finishing checking the lab supplies one more time. Since they had an unexpected chance to resupply before finally going through the wormhole, she thought it would be wise to take a moment to go over it again, even though they have just recently started the mission. She added one or two items to the ship’s ‘shoplist’, absentmindedly scratching her wrist. The wound didn’t heal as fast as she had expected and it started to itch. Still, it wasn’t that serious to bother the medical crew with it.

Elm decided it would be better to distract herself and go check out the starbase. Heading through the airlock, she had met many crewmembers going the same direction, talking about visiting a bar or going shopping. Only part of the engineering crew remained on the ship to oversee the repairs the Prize had sustained while fighting the pirate vessel.

The base was quite busy, one could see many different species and hear lots of different languages. Elm headed to a wing where lots of small shops were located, selling everything imaginable - weird-looking food, electronic parts and techno-gadgets Elm wouldn’t understand in a million years, fancy clothes in all shapes and sizes and many other things. Nibbling on a piece of fried Tiger Tomatillo, a spicy descendant of an old terran tomato, she stopped at a shop selling various seeds and quietly browsed through the goods, lost in her thoughts.

Korax, First Officer

The mission was a success. The hostages had been released, the pirates surrendered, and there were minimal casualties. Which was not to say that all loss of life had been avoided, but for a situation such as this it could have been much worse. That was what the records of previous encounters indicated, and Korax was inclined to believe them.

There had been congratulations all around when they returned, and he made sure to commend the quick thinking of Beta Team in dealing with the trap engineered by Du-Vos aboard the Moray. it was what they deserved for their performance and their teamwork, and Korax saw no reason to fudge or otherwise alter the impact of their contributions to the success of the mission.

But repairs were necessary, and so the ship had returned to the nearest Starbase. It would not be long, but they would be able to spend some time recovering and preparing for the mission ahead. Soon they would be through the wormhole, and off on their true journey. It was only a bit delayed.

As the rest of the crew filed off to enjoy some leave on the station. Korax moved to stand next to Carabello. "Greetings Captain," it said without hesitation. "Will you be taking leave as well? This one can oversee the repairs if there is anything you wish to do before the ship departs."

Addressing: @Flamelord

"Oh, greetings," Carabello grinned back, with a glint of sarcasm at the formal language. "Yeah, I won't be staying on the Prize. I love her already," he ran his hand along the metallic wall, "but all the loud construction sounds bug me. You don't need to stay either- the starbase's team should be able to handle it." Nick hesitates. "Deep Solar 3 sounds fun. Did you know they sell some kind of fried rodent tail... on a stick?"

Alright, that was a stupid question. Whether Korax knew or not, he certainly didn't care. Silicon-nitrogen lifeforms probably can't eat fried rat.

Actually, what does a Khuxod eat? Ice? It occurs to Nick that he knows almost nothing about his First Officer. Captain Carabello had only been Captain Carabello for about a month. And Korax wasn't the kind of person he was used to dealing with- so formal, and a bit alien in his speech. It left Nick feeling like a stranger to his next-in-command. Maybe that should change.

"Uh, forget it. Do you want to come down to Deep Solar 3 with me?"

Korax, First Officer
Addressing Captain Carabello @Tortoise

Sarcasm passed by uncommented on, a subject that Korax was still working on when it came to other species. A particularly tricky subject, especially since Humans used it so often. For now, it listened silently as the Captain answered its initial query.

Its head tilted slightly, a sign of confusion as Nicholas made his interesting observation on some of what the Starbase had to offer. 'This one thought that humans considered rodents to be unsatisfactory nutrient sources," it replied. "Why then would someone choose to sell it?" As much as Nicholas might want it, the first Mate could not simply forget the question had ever been asked. His memory was not like that of a computer, to be edited and deleted so easily.

That left the question the Captain had followed it with. Korax thought about it for a moment or two, balancing obligations and things that it needed to do against what might happen while the two of them were on the station. As the Captain had noted, the starbase team was perfectly capable of handling damage such as this. There was no reason to get in their way.

So having considered the offer, it made its decision. "Very well," it agreed. This one will accompany you." It might allow it to know the Captain better, and that was a positive. For now, it prepared to follow Nicholas wherever he decided they should go.

"Yeah, humans don't eat rodents. Well, except for rabbits. I think it's just novelty." Realizing that maybe someone as foreign to humanity as Korax needs a little more explanation, Nick adds: "People buy it because it's strange. New experiences, I guess."

Once they get down to Deep Solar 3, Nick does have the new experience of eating a fried rodent tail (on a stick!). It's not great. Okay, it's awful. But hey, novelty!

Nick and Korax's journey of novelty continues down into a smaller sub-wing of the station, where a lot of merchants have gathered. All sorts of goods are put up for sale here. Glittering jewelry, three-eyed alien pets, hand-woven rugs, salvaged electronics- the list goes on. It's rather crowded, and there's the scent of some kind of alien incense wafting through the air.

And somewhere in it, Nick spots a familiar face. "Hey, now that's a properly fried snack! Tomatillo is probably better than rat tail." Korax and him had ran into M'Elme Lan'thar, the Prize's resident expert on plant biology, and a plant herself. Carabello had reviewed her file before: she was competent, still young by her species' standard, and relatively new to the ship. Just like Nick, in a way. "You go by Elm, right? I'm Nick." He leaves off the 'Captain' part, because that title takes some getting used to. Still not quite comfortable with it.

"What brings you to this... what is it, a bazaar?" He gestures to the crowded, mercantile space around them, and smiles. "This place."

Elm wasn’t paying too much attention to her surroundings, browsing through the shop's display and thinking how the new plants would get incorporated in the already existing greenhouse ecosystems. There weren’t many interesting things though, most seeds sold there were pretty common - spices, grains and various vegetables intended for hydroponics on smaller ships, bred to be fast-growing and space and water efficient.

One pack of seeds was already in a satchel hanging over her shoulder. It was an impulsive idea, something almost unheard of for her kind and she was still not really sure about it. The seeds were sold under the counter - they weren’t exactly illegal, but also weren’t entirely legal. It was a bit of a grey area in all the rules and regulations of the I.S.A. Elm however loved the smell of the plant and occasionally chewing on a leaf or two was very relaxing. She knew humans preferred to set the dried leaves on fire and inhale the smoke. A strange habit, as it destroyed all the nutrients contained in the fresh leaf tissue.

When she heard someone commenting on her snack, she turned to greet him. As her kind was extremely rare outside her home planet, she was used to curious people occasionally starting conversations with her. It was much better than those that just stared at her from a distance. When she realized that this isn’t just some random passerby but the captain himself, she winced, for some reason feeling like she got caught doing something wrong. She decided it would be better not to mention the seeds. Or the problems in the greenhouse. After all, there were plenty of other botanists eager to go on this mission and she didn’t want captain Carabello to think she was incompetent and replace her before the expedition even starts.

She was surprised that the captain introduced himself only by his name, omitting the title. She had only known a few I.S.A. officers, but all of the high-ranking ones were particularly proud of their titles and insisted on using them everywhere. She was pleased to see that their captain might be something different. “Well, we are supposed to be on an exploration mission,” she smiled, “so I am exploring. Haven’t found anything interesting yet though. Not enjoying the local cuisine?” She had noticed that the food stands sold a lot of different body parts from animals that humans normally didn’t consume, or at least she thought they didn’t.

The captain wasn’t alone, he was accompanied by a large crystalline… person? Entity? Elm had no idea what was the correct term. She knew he was also part of the Prize’s crew, she had noticed him walking around the hallways before and saw him at the senior staff meetings. He was kind of hard to miss. She felt a slight connection to him - while there were many races present on the Prize, still the crew were mostly humans and sometimes it wasn’t easy to be this much alien looking like they were. “Hi, I’m Elm,” she said, nodding her head in his direction.

With the passing of a simple command, the battle was on. The Moray, feigning death, jumped to life as its major systems came to full power; the unsuspecting vessel had repudiated its apparent state of stillness and instead, adopting vengeful purpose through aggression. Despite the lesser grade of its comparatively lackluster armament, the Charon-class transport brought forth a full volley of disruptor beams into the portside of the pirate vessel. At what was practically considered knife-fighting range, the seemingly meager broadside slammed into the shield of the larger and unlawful ship, rocking its hull by the full-powered impact. It was undoubtedly a wake-up for the pirates, having suffered a foundation-shaking blow from an otherwise underpowered foe.

Seeing the threat before them, literally a whisper away, the pirates summoned their own reply in the form of a concentrated broadside of large plasma projectors. The lumbering turrets shifted in-place, setting their sights on the defying transport ship. But the Moray, now propelled by its now active engines, quickly moved beyond the firing arcs of the pirate ship's cannons. Aggression and speed were the smaller ship's only means of preservation as it glided just off the sizzling surface of the pirate vessel's barrier, tightening the distance between it and the blind points of deadly armaments arrayed against it. The Moray fired again, disruptor fire now pushing the ships apart.

With the pirate ship distracted by the impulsive fly that was the Moray, the I.S.S. Prize had then entered the fray, answering the call to battle with a quad-salvo of azure-lighted lances. Despite its shields withstanding the Prize's opening move, the powerful impact forced the offending vessel into a bow-forward dip in orientation. Setbacks aside, the pirate ship corrected is posture and lurched forward, ignoring the Moray's harassment and engaged the Prize. The later and intimidating vessel discharged its plasma cannons and rapid succession followed the dispensing of several ship-to-ship torpedoes. A devastating combination of firepower but repulsed by the Prize's shields.

The three ships were then locked into their attack vectors with the Moray keeping to the pirate ship while it and the Prize exchanged blows face-to-face. The space between the ships lit up with emerald, ruby, and sapphire energized-munitions, displaying a brilliant lethal lightshow while shield impacts gave off dazzling strobing effects that-

Gue'rach stopped writing and placed the datapad upon his desk.

A large frown manifested itself upon Gue'rach's tough and prominent facial feature as he reviewed his own writing. Apparently, he allowed his culture's societal method of recounting recent conflicts into official documentation to run amok. With an annoyed growl, the scrolled up to the top of his written work and highlighted several lines, prompting his datapad's auto-correct feature, empowered by Terran logic, to re-write segments of the colorful literature into cohesive and straight forward descriptors of the battle. Most of the report prior mainly contained time-stamped examinations of each action taken by him and the rest of Beta as they restored the Moray to operational functionality. Technically, the job was more of a literal makeshift ploy than doing any favors for the original crew of the Moray, especially when it involved turning a non-combat vessel... into a combat vessel. How his professional and procedural writing spiraled into a short story was beyond him. Actually, he was surprised he didn't include Commander Pearson's well-executed plan of dispensing a gaseous drug into the pirate ship's ventilation which happened the pirate's in their ability to fight a two-pronged attack against them.

That may have explained while his apparent interpretation of events seemed more, lively, than what occurred.

After going back and making corrections to his report, he continued from where he left off, explaining that at some point during the hostile exchange, the pirate ship's attacks had slowed and eventually ceased entirely, resulting in a victory for the I.S.S. Prize, along with the successful rescues of the hostages. Despite the victory, the hostages had to be treated while Beta team, assisted by additional engineers from the Prize, made the necessary repairs and adjustments to the Moray. Honestly, it would have been bad form to hand the crew back a ship that just saw combat. After a few hours, the Moray was fully restored to proper working order, now at operational capacity with the original crew taking over. With that, the ships left their separate ways. It was ironic though that despite being the more advanced and well-equipped ship between the two, it was the Prize that came out with battle damage that required the entire vessel return to docks for repair, thus delaying the crew's prior assignment. An annoyance for sure, but it is what is it is.

Upon looking through the corrected report, Gue'rach tapped the digital 'submit' button on the datapad, prompting the article to be sent and filed through official management channels. The Auval’kotor rested back into his chair, satisfied with his work. However, he only allowed himself a brief respite and before he knew it, it was already back on his feet. Gue'rach had volunteered to, temporarily, assume Sergeant Jvwuwh'vei... Rod's, responsibilities as a security officer when his main duties were fulfilled for the day. After donning his uniform once more, he headed out of his quarters to make the rounds around the ship.

---

Once it was all said and done, Mason was lying in his bed tired. He had been questioned about the mission, the death of Rod, and about the condition of the hostages. That on top of the medical reports he had to fill and the checkups he had to do for each of them before they were back on their way. It wasn’t too bad since the ISA wasn’t dumb enough to not send Mason with a medical staff, he could rely on for some of the more mundane checks and tasks. He wasn’t physically tired, but mentally exhausted. The stop at Deep Solar 3 might have the respite he needed before their mission resumed.

Sitting up from his bed, he took a look over the medical notes he had collected. As he went over them, he had a list of out of the ordinary conditions that he should have to keep a list of. For example, he needed to make sure that Robin’s implant was not causing her any undo harm as well as make sure that her quarterly hibernations went swimmingly. Speaking of which…

Mason walked down the halls in an effort to find where Robin would be hibernating. Well, it wasn’t a hibernation, but what else were they going to call it? He eventually found her. She was already strapped in, face down, the system doing its work. It looked painful, but as Robin was in suspended animation, he would never know. Everything looked in order, so he left her to it and continued on his way. As he walked, he read over his tablet.

“Let’s see.” Mumbled Mason to himself, “For the most part everyone is perfectly healthy.” Of course, most people have to be to be a part of a mission such as this, “That makes things easy. Boring, but easy.” He continued to scroll into his notes. It wasn’t a long list, just things to keep in mind and on hand as needed. There were some prescription lenses for Geu’rach and medication for Francesca. His neck started to get stiff as he looked down on his tablet. The tablet was much like a bar that displayed a holographic screen, so when he put it away, the screen just disappeared, and the bar could fit easily within his pocket.

Mason stretched out his arms and let out a heavy sigh to see where he had wandered. He found himself next to the green houses, so he had wandered around the science labs. Since he was here, he might as well visit the medical lab one more time and double heck the supply inventory. Not like the ISA would leave the ship undersupplied, but he wanted to make sure everything was in order. Especially their high-end equipment. Once he was done with that, he’d probably leave the ship just before construction started and see what the space station had to offer. Get some lunch, find an arcade or something.

As soon as she was done explaining to the follow-up team what was what with the Moray, Astrid hurried to the shuttle bay, eager to meet one of the combat engineers and her former CE colleague who accompanied Alpha on the mission. “Hey, Angus! Everything without a hitch like always?”
“The rookie almost got half of us cooked with an incendiary. Instead, he only got himself shot, so not as shite as it could’ve been.” The big Irishman grumbled, looking a bit glum.
“Crap. Is he going to pull through- Wait, Alphabet actually brought a damn grenade?” She shook her head incredulously, “Where is that moron? I’m going to beat some sense into that empty head of his.” She regretted her choice of words immediately after as four medics carried Rod’s lifeless body through the hall past them. She couldn’t make much out except charred and battered armor, fortunately for her. “Ah… Shit.”

As soon as the Prize arrived at the station and Astrid woke up from catching up on sleep lost due to the Pirate encounter, an engineer from Lt. Rong’s shift showed up to tell her she was needed on-board to oversee the hull repairs. Aware that she had a leg up in structural engineering over her colleague, she nonetheless went back to the Moray and came out a few minutes later with the half-disassembled bomb. “Take a look at this. I did. Quite up close. Back when it was still armed, not to mention on two hours of sleep. This is your team’s shift, not mine’s, therefore your problem. Better yet, let the locals work to earn their living and I’ll check the work the day before we set out.” She shoved the inactive bomb into the poor sap’s hands and walked off. “Say hi to Lan for me. Drinks later?”

One unnecessarily detailed report later, Astrid joined the engineering senior staff in enjoying one of Deep Solar 3’s bars near the bazaar or whatever it was. On one hand, they were happy they could kick back and not do anything for a few days or however long the repairs would take. On the other, no engineer was particularly happy about letting someone else poke around their ship or station. Then there was the case of Rod…
“To Rod…? Alphabet.” The Irishman raised his glass, the others following, “He may have been a pile of hair with a moron under it, but he was our pile. Wherever you’ve gone, I hope ye rest easy lad.”
“Sadly, Du-Vos will most likely live out his retirement out of taxpayers’ pockets. At least it won’t be our pockets.” At least Astrid hoped that was the case. If the authorities had the nerve to tax them when they were who knows where on the other side of a wormhole, she might just lose the last sliver of her faith in Humanity.

The young woman shouldered the bag that had been by her feet, watching the crowd around her. She had put away the book she had just purchased from the quirky individual in the corner. An actual book, one with numbered pages and even a note from the author on the inside of the cover. The purchase had been accidental too. Originally, Beatrice was looking for a snack. She came across the small stand selling a variety of items to include various foods, but she spotted a small bowl with a clear lid filled with little live creatures and her stomach turned. When asked if everything was alright, that's when Beatrice noticed the book on the other side. And so now she hadn't had her snack, but she had a book.

Beatrice reached for her pad tucked away in one of the pockets of her dark grey utility jacket. She was good with directions, but even she needed help every once in a while. The indicator showed she was near the Prize, she just needed to walk a little further. That was all fine and dandy. The crowd around her hadn't exactly doubled, but they had gotten louder. She tapped the little ear piece and music filled her ears. At that moment, Beatrice simply wanted to reach her destination and settle down. The long trip had tired her out, especially since she hadn't had anything to eat. Not that she would at that point, but she was feeling fatigued.

The young woman walked some more, then turned another corner before the Prize came into view. Beatrice felt a surge of newfound energy and picked up the pace a bit, her steps nearly matching the beat of the music playing in her ears. She was more than relieved for having concluded her trip, and she was waiting to see what this new assignment had in store for her.

Once inside, Beatrice took out her pad again. She decided to check in there instead of in person. Not that she was the anti-social type, but it seemed she would be looking for someone for a while and she didn't want to get lost in her new home just yet.

Korax, First Officer
Addressing Captain Carabello @Tortoise, Botanist Lan’thar @Raylah

Entering the station, little time was wasted as the duo began their exploration. The Captain sampled one of those novel rodent tails he had mentioned earlier. The substation was more interesting to the First Officer, with goods for sale of all varieties. Very eclectic, with many species of the Intergalactic Star Alliance hawking their wares. For the most part Korax chose to watch, the alien equivalent of window shopping. It did not see a need for much personal items, so unless something of significant value truly stuck out amidst all of this, it would not be as free with its money as the Captain was.

It was little surprise that they soon stumbled across another crewmember down here. With 300 individuals serving aboard the Prize, the odds of stumbling across one in a [lace like this was fairly reasonable.

"Greetings," it said as they approached Elm. There was some curiosity past the stoney gaze, as Lavathulin species was very unusual as far as his own were concerned. Such plant life did not exist where its people developed, rendering an additional uniqueness beyond that of plant based sentient life forms.

Finding itself addressed, it then spoke up. "This one is Korax, First Officer of the Pride. It is pleasing to meet you."

That's strange. Elm is so different from humans physiologically- Terrans didn't have any bark or leaves, that's for sure- but she talks like any Old Earth girl. Korax is different from humans, too, but his differences run deeper. Into his language, even: "This one." Nick briefly wonders if Elm is just as alien, only better at hiding it. Are either of them anything like himself, really? Or each other?

No, Nick corrects himself. Xenophobic thinking isn't worthy of an officer. Here are members of three species, all very different physically, but all... shopping together, at least?

Huh. Sounds like the start to a bad joke, actually. A plant, a mammal and a rock walk into a bazaar...

"Yeah," Nick breaks out of his thinking, "it's awful. But sometimes you need to give new things a chance, right? You know, I was just thinking of a joke-"

Probably for the better, Nick gets interrupted. A little beeping alert goes off from somewhere inside a leather pouch, tied to his waist. "Oh, sorry," the Captain apologizes, "I guess that's for me." In a single, familiar motion, Nick takes the comm pad from out of his pouch and checks the message. It's a 'new crewmember' alert. Someone named Beatrice Reins, a technical officer, just checked into the Prize for the first time.

That name is familiar, but for all his trying, Carabello can't connect it to a face. He'll have to see her sometime. But for now, he just drops her a generic "Welcome Aboard! - Nick" message. Those are never annoying, right? Yeah, never. Come to think of it, those messages usually include his location automatically, so Reins would probably be able to find him if she wanted to. Maybe he'll see her soon? Who knows. He dismisses the other 1,176 overdue notifications that poor, quasi-sentient datapad desperately tries to get him to read, and returns to the conversation.

"Sorry, Captain stuff. Never stops. I guess botany must be more relaxing." Then, seeing he the wound on Elm's hand, he amends: "Ouch. Or maybe not. What, uh, happened to your hand?"

Elm was surprised by the way Korax addressed himself as ‘this one’ - she made a mental note to find out more about his species. She assumed that they didn’t distinguish between any genders and didn’t have a strong sense of individuality. A stark contrast to humans, who were all about being different from others.

She pitied captain Carabello, who apparently couldn’t have even a few hours of rest without being disturbed by his duties. But then again, he was the captain, and he didn’t have the luxury to have ‘office hours’ while on a mission.

Elm had almost forgotten about the wound on her wrist - when she didn’t think about it, she almost didn’t feel it, but once the captain mentioned it, it started itching again. She resisted the urge to scratch it, knowing it would only make things worse. “You would think that botany is just looking at pretty flowers hidden safely inside a laboratory,” she replied to Nick. “But sometimes it gets a bit too exciting. There has been a small problem in one of the greenhouses, because the previous leading botanist was slightly… misorganized.” Elm hated to speak ill of others. “But I am working with Cake to resolve it as soon as possible,” she added quickly, not wanting to look negligent or incompetent.

“So,” she turned to both her companions, “what do you have in plan? Other than eating rodents?” she smiled at Nick. “I heard that there is an interesting place in one of the outer rings of the station - a low gravity playground.” She fished a flyer out of her satchel. “Some girl was handing these out near the docks.”



The flyer was filled with pictures of happy people jumping around various padded obstacles, shooting each other with laser weapons. “I was planning on heading there just to see what it looks like.” To be honest Elm wasn’t sure that this was something she wanted to try out herself, but even just standing on the observation balcony and looking at people could be fun. And who knows, maybe she would even muster enough courage to go inside.

Robin was pleased that her part in the last mission helped lead to a successful outcome. As much as she didn't care for Rod's snide comment before the mission began that didn't mean she wished him dead. Robin removed her uniform and hung it up in the closet. She then slipped into a black jumpsuit with sapphire stripes on the side and then pushed back a few more clothes revealing a safe. Robin said, "What the hell. He was a soldier and gave his life in the line of duty." Robin punched in a four digit code and pulled out a bottle of axacon bourbon. This bourbon was very rare only about three dozen bottles of it existed, and Colonel Thomas Beckett's widow gave it to Robin while she was in rehab. Robin walked over to table and pulled a glass toward her. She poured herself a drink and then raised the glass. Robin said, "To Rod, see you on the other side fellow warrior." With a brief nod she then downed her drink and put the glass back on the table.

A gentle beeping broke the silence within her quarters as Robin walker over to a touch-pad. She pressed the touch-pad on her nightstand and said, "Dr. Pearson."

Baby the ship's lab computer, and basically Robin's assistant, said, "Dr. Pearson we are now docked at Deep Solar 3, and I have already contacted Dr. Zimmerman on board the station and he is preparing a med capsule for you to go into your stasis on the med deck level 12 room 18."

Robin let out a slow exhale and said, "Thank you Baby. Nothing like sleeping through most of one's shore leave. I'll spend two days asleep, and then the rest of the time trying to catch up on what I missed." Robin shook her head and said, "It could be worse."

Baby replied, "In many ways, but at least your body will have a chance for uninterrupted rest and recovery time."

Robin nodded as she started to put away her bourbon bottle and said, "Yeah there is that. Anyway thank you again Baby. Tell Dr. Zimmerman I'll be there in the next ten to fifteen minutes."

Baby replied, "Yes Dr. Pearson, and pleasant rest to you ma'am."

Robin said, "Thanks again Baby. Pearson out." Robin pushed the button on her touch-screen, gathered up a few items, put them in a bag, and departed the Prize. While the others were off to "tie one on", gamble, spend "quality time" with other crew members, or just relax Robin was looking at two days in suspended animation. During that time her spinal-unit would go through adjustments, software updates, and recharging.

Through the corridors and various levels Robin made her way to level 12 and found room 18. She pressed on button on a panel on the right side of the door. After a couple of seconds a gray door slid to the right and an older gentleman holding a tablet stepped out. He looked at Robin briefly and then back to his tablet as he said, "Hello there Dr. Pearson I'm Dr. Harold Zimmerman please come in."

Robin entered the room as the door closed behind her. Zimmerman said, "You can store your bag in the cabinet on the left. The cabinet is ready for you to enter your own code. Enter the code and your belongings will be safe during your stasis." Robin enter her code and the door slid open. She put her bag in the cabinet and closed the door. Robin entered the code and the panel turned red indicating it was locked.

She walked over to a bed with a small dome hovering over the length of the bed. Zimmerman said studying his tablet, "I see that you are used to this process so I won't go through the usual details. May I see your spinal port please?" Robin unzipped a small opening in the back of her jumpsuit and Zimmerman looked at it and said, "Very well we'll get started Doctor." Zimmerman pressed two buttons on his touch-pad and a small needle poked out from the bed. He said, "If you're ready Doctor you may lay down now." Robin climbed onto the bed and slowly began to lay down. The needle slid into the port and Robin gritted her teeth a bit and said, "No matter how many times I've done this it never gets easier." Zimmerman replied, "This is much better than a decade ago. I used to have to sedate people for the needle to be inserted."

Robin let out an exhale and said, "I'll take your word for it. When this is over can you schedule me for some hot tub time at the spa center? That gives me something to look forward to when I wake up."

Zimmerman nodded and replied, "No problem Doctor I'll take care of that right away. Now if you're settled in we'll begin." Robin nodded and replied, "Thank you Dr. Zimmerman." Zimmerman gave a brief nod, and then stepped away from the bed. He touched two buttons on the touch-pad and the clear dome slid into place cocooning Robin into the bed. Zimmerman said, "Beginning stasis in three, two, one."

With that Robin felt her whole body become rigid, her arms pressed against her side, and she felt her breathing begin to slow down. The sound of the computers began to fade out as Robin's vision began to become white. Her last conscious thought was the same one as always, "Maybe I would be better off in a hover chair?" With that time stood still for Robin Pearson.

Jessie Beadle walked around the market ring of the station in somewhat of a daze. The events of the last couple days still played vividly in her mind. She'd assumed she was going to be stripped of her commission for her unbecoming reaction, but instead the Captain had reacted with sympathy, and hadn't even removed her from her shift. When the battle had started, she'd been prepared, maneuvering the ship into position along with the Moray, flanking the pirates and helping to ensure a quick victory. Though the mission hadn't been without its casualties, which is how Jessie found herself here, rank still intact. She wasn't going to be sent home. She was going to get to continue exploring. Seeing things no humans had ever seen before, and piloting this magnificent ship the whole way!

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Jessie followed her nose to a food stand. Though the proprietor tried to steer her towards more Terran styled foods, Jessie quickly zeroed in on some kind of fried rodent tail, convincing the cook that no, she wouldn't ask for a refund. Now holding her snack, Jessie contemplated it as she wandered. It was strange, sure. Her father would probably freak out if he saw her eating it. But it wasn't bad. Probably could do with a little less salt, but then it probably wasn't seasoned for human taste buds. It was actually really difficult to describe--

"Mission report, Lieutenant."

Startled, Jessie looked around. She'd wandered down a series of cafes, and now stood in front of a table with a man reading the daily news on his commpadd. Eyes narrowing, Jessie cursed to herself. Jevon. He was an agent of Cabal 47, and her main contact. She'd hoped to leave him, and the Cabal behind once they entered the wormhole. She hadn't considered that he'd meet up with her before they could leave. Nor did she consider him taking control of her neural implants to puppet her directly to him.

"I'm waiting, Jessica."

"You know I hate when you call me that."

"And you know that you were supposed to be through the wormhole 48 hours ago. Instead, the Prize comes back damaged and requires days worth of repairs. So as long as we're disappointing each other, I'll call you what I like."

He hadn't even so much as glanced up at her this whole time. He was infuriating. and Jessie could see his hand hovering over a button on his commpadd which would allow him access to her implants again.

"Alright, fine. There was a distress call from a civilian transport. Pirates had captured them. Their captain wanted to negotiate with the ISA for their return, and we were the closest ship. So we were diverted. I wasn't even included in the meetings, my duty shift hadn't started. I only found out when I reported to the bridge and we were in the middle of action. As far as I know, we're planning on continuing with our original mission as soon as repairs are completed. Happy?"

Jessie watched as Jevon's finger tapped thoughtfully on the edge of his commpadd, dangerously close to the override button. She just wanted to leave, but even if she could will her feet to move, Jevon would just pull her back. It would be no use screaming either, the Cabal had shown her how they operated, and she knew that drawing attention would only get herself, and anyone around in a whole heap of trouble.

"Happy? Not remotely." Jevon said after a moment, his finger-tapping coming to an end. "But it lines up with the reports we've received, so you're off the hook. Very well, you're dismissed." He folded up his commpad and Jessie shivered as she felt her motor control returning to her. Turning on her heels, she briskly walked away, her heart pounding in fear and anger as she left Jevon behind, for hopefully the last time.

Korax, First Officer
Addressing Captain Carabello @Tortoise, Botanist Lan’thar @Raylah

Korax had no doubt that the three of them were drawing the occasional glance from those who passed by. The more traveled citizens might be lesser in that regard, but it was still strange enough to attract attention. Their ISA uniforms merely added to that.

There was a brief pause in the conversation as Nicholas tended to business that had sprung up, though this did not take long to do. Soon they were conversing once more, with Elm describing a situation that had transpired in the botany labs. At least the wounds were not inhibiting her, for she likely would have been back on the ship if it was an urgent affliction.

"This one has no plans beyond experiencing more of Alliance culture before we depart," Korax replied to Elm's query smoothly. It was true enough.

But it seemed that Elm had a more interesting proposal, and Korax read over the flyer that she presented swiftly. One could imagine an eyebrow rising, if eyebrows were a thing that its kind had. "Intriguing," it agreed. "This environment could be replicated aboard the ship, but it does provide greater access to the general public. This one may accompany you, though it is not certain if their facilities are prepared to deal with its kind." It then shifted to look at the Captain, to see if Nicholas intended on indulging his inner daring nature since he had been forced to have some restraint during the pirate operation. It was.....very likely, at least if its estimates were correct.

What on Earth (or off it, anyway) could happen in a botany lab that leads to a cut like that? Even a disorganized one? Nick suddenly imagines gigantic Venus Fly Traps invading the ship. "Feed us, Nick!"

But then Elm and Korax start discussing the Low-Gravs attraction. And when Nick reads the flier, he laughs out loud. "Oh, we're doing this. Captain's orders. Okay, well you two don't have to, but I definitely am."

Most Captains wouldn't want to be seen socializing with the lower-deck crew at all, much less jumping on a Zero-G "playground." But Nick didn't mind. What was shore leave for, if not this? Besides, he could technically fire anyone who criticizes. "To the Low-Gravz!" Nick declares, pointing a finger in the air like a Renaissance-era adventurer. If only he had a cloak to swirl. He trots off towards the Low-Gravs center, hoping his two crewmembers are still following.

On the way, he passes by the young woman who had shouted on the Prize. She looked distracted and upset, so she probably didn't notice them. But hey, she was eating a fried rodent tail! Nick knew he liked her.

She hadn't put away her pad just yet when an alert rang, informing her of an incoming message. Beatrice took a glance and saw a message from someone named Nick, presumably the one to be running the show. Maybe it was the default auto-reply to newcomers. Or maybe he was out and about and had to keep it brief. They had just docked, and there was nothing like getting off a ship after being out regardless of the length or severity of the mission. Whatever the reason, Beatrice just wanted to get some rest. Get off her feet for a couple of hours, a beverage in one hand and maybe the book in the other. In the moment, that would be extremely nice. But she couldn't have it all, at least not the drink. She would still have to attend a briefing and maybe do a quick walk-through if they did that sort of thing aboard the Prize. Though if the head honcho was away, Beatrice could play, and her definition of play was to lie down and listen to a relaxing playlist with her sleeping mask on. Or at least, that was the idea.

First, she would have to find her quarters. Once more, Beatrice turned to her pad. She messed around for a few moments but there wasn't any special note regarding room assignments. That was either a system error or any one free room was up for grabs. If she did went ahead and moved into any room she chose, there really wouldn't be any repercussions. The worst that could happen was she'd have to pack up her stuff and be reassigned. Beatrice liked those odds, and so her plan was to continue to walk until she found someone who could guide her in the right direction.