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Rin closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then slowly straightened, mentally sorting out his emotions until he had some semblance of control.

"No... thank you... I will be fine," he said softly to Ellen, opening his eyes and exhaling. He fought the urge to tap the device located on the back of his hand, knowing that they were too far away to attempt communication. If he had his ship's subspace-

Well, nevermind- it was fine. Because Ty and everyone else had just agreed to alter course straight for Kremlin Mall.

He... the overwhelming emotion he was feeling right now... gratitude. Yes. With hints of disbelief and relief and some small amount of guilt and hope-

Are you sure? he meant to say, but he swallowed, and turned a little, staring with grateful eyes.

"Thank you," he said, quiet, hoarse.

He moved then, a little closer to the crew of the Koolest, relaxing a little more as a result of being surrounded by his- friends. Yes. He momentarily blocked out everything that was going on, pondering about the near future with a barely restrained excitement.

As soon as they leave, we'll be on our way... A tiny smile bloomed from his lips, thoughts of his crew fanning the spark of hopeful anticipation.

I can't wait.

Do Dimensional Lord’s know terror?

That is the question that generally isn’t brought up too often since most assume not. They would be wrong, the Lord’s do know terror, but no the mortal scope of terror. Lord Ova was impressed by the boy’s ability in using the dark spirit as a conduit to get her mind into his. Hell still impressive he did on his own. However, this apocalyptic land of death and sorrow with smell of pungent decay filling the air, is mere child’s play towards the Lord of Undead and Darkness, whos's undead realm is full of death and sorrow alone. Even though she was at the mercy of Ketin’s little artifact and his own mind, however he may have a everything under his control over her but the one thing that he does not have control over was her will. With the inability to move or project physically, she made damn sure Ketin could feel her will power pour out of her, the power to challenge titans and Gods themselves, for what else are the Dimensional Lord ultimate goals are? To end the complete control of Universes, away from such higher beings than and so that the Lords can have unlimited influence upon the mortals. Such beings like Ketin was always a treat for the demented Lord and she loved the challenge that Ketin poses, that darkness that fills him, the anger, the sorrow…his soul…one of the most prized over any other soul, even Lord Erica’s.

As Ketin tried his best to scare her into oblivion, show her terror, she kept her malice smile on him, unafraid of his Satan’s eye, which kinda made her laugh little. She listen as he spoke and once he was finished and before there little terror meet was finished she decided to put her two cents in “Quite the gesture and threat…this won’t go unpunished…now you just made this a lot more interesting Number 13, Ketin “Devil Eye” Clark, a soul that should have been harvested over 3 centuries ago back in that damn lab. I do applaud you in your attempt to scare me, but this won’t change a damn thing…so…come on, you know where I live now…come and visit and I’ll make sure your sins are atone, since I’ll oblige. Let my gavel ring justice off your thin skull. I will make you suffer before I press you into my service!” as she looks at her with a cocky smile, a smile known to be the smile that was used against Lord Erica, the old Elder Council as well as the Gods and Demons themselves. A smile that spat onto supposed authority

Once Ketin disconnected the “physic meeting” Lord Ova sat on her throat, her eyes now wide open as she began to give out a bellowing laugh that echo throughout her castle. “OH KETIN! MAKE MY PRESENCE IN THIS UNIVERSE AN INTERESTING ONE!” she yells out in her throne room as she looks up at the ceiling, laughing like a maniac.

For the poor Dark spirit, he was splattered against the wall and soon the mark dissipated into nothingness, leaving Ketin and his crew safe and at a somewhat peace of mind…for now

Nirix didn’t think she would ever find him.

Around and around, she circled the living cabins, knocking on doors and lurking through the halls in hopes of catching the sound of well, anything. First she visited their room or well, what was left of it. Nirix combed through what was left of their things, grabbing their respective jackets, Nirix’s silenced pistol, and whatever else she could carry with ease. She listened even then, pressing her ear against the walls and focused on certain vibrations and voices.

It had proved useless yet that did not kill the determination that thrived in her heart.

Turning a left and then an abrupt right, Nirix chewed feverishly on the inside of her cheek, praying to her Gods that she would find her friend. She didn’t care what state he was in as long as he was breathing and she could physically get to him. That was all that she asked for, all that she hoped.

Her ear twitched at the sounds of a scuffle and Nirix had never been so happy to run towards a fight.

Ketin held the officer in a tight grip, gagging him with his own gun. He was screaming, shouting about her. He would blow an innocent man’s brains out for her.

“Da’len, please stop” Nirix spoke and her words came out shaky, unsteady even. It wasn’t as strong as she would’ve liked, too soft and devoid of all the powerful emotions she felt. Yet, Nirix moved fast and pried Ketin off, dragging him away from the confused and mildly frightened Perrygold officer. Then did she crush him to her body, hugging and pulling him close to her chest and only then did she finally realize she was sobbing.

“Ir abelas, Ir abelas Da’len. I’m so sorry, so very sorry”

Nothing else matter now. Nirix would apologize ten trillion times, until her voice gave out and her tongue dried up. She was sorry and Ketin would know.

How typically self-centered of a Dimensional Lord for her to think he was trying to frighten her with the gruesome imagery of the Dead City. How ignorant of her to fail utterly in comprehending the nature of true powerlessness. How narcissistic of her to think that there could be any motive behind the way he had stood and glared down at her. Thinking she was so important, such a part of his life - when in reality she was nothing but a nuisance. A player in a distant power struggle that nothing to do with Ketin Clarke or his Eye.

He had not gone there to pick a fight. He had not gone there to prove anything. He was not interested in showcasing his ethereal might. He had not even been the one to create the images - she had been filling his mind with pictures of the Dead City. All he had done was build upon it, let his anger fuel the pictures, and forced her to understand that her attacks would not work on him.

But the cycle continued. The cycle repeated. In a vain effort to hide from himself - to deny the existence of the man that brought death with words, to convince himself that he was not a monster - he had only furthered the point. It had backfired, just as the Lord’s attack had backfired. In that respect, Ova had succeeded - for though it was now clearer than day that there was no chance of her invading the mind of Clarke or anyone under his protection without facing a backlash of atomic proportions - the creeping vines of monstrous hatred had been tended. The part of him that was rage incarnate - the part he hid away and buried - had been revealed, if only to her. The part that was not merely anger, but sadistic loathing, bitterness and lonliness and pure, directionless fury.

No, Ketin had not been trying to frighten Ova. He had merely been trying to do what he did best - to run. To make the bad thoughts go away, to make the bad people go away.

He had not been aware of Nirix approaching. He had not been aware of anything except the security officer. And when he heard her voice, he froze and went dead silent. His breathing was heavy and labored, but suddenly he was looking down at the man as if seeing him for the first time. Looking at the gun shoved in his mouth as if he knew what it was, but couldn’t quite remember.

But it was not as if something had come over him to control his actions. It had not been some mysterious split personality, or some other entity within his brain. It had been him - blinded by rage and fear, choosing to attack the man. The rationale was irrelevant. Being angry or afraid was no excuse. There was no excuse for what he had been about to do - and it had been his choice.

He despised himself for it. For giving in to the fear-driven urge to hurt. For giving in to feeling like a cornered animal and lashing out with violence.

And yet, to his own astonishment, he found that he was still trying to justify his actions.

”He, he’s...he’s one of them.” He said weakly, almost inaudibly. Voice small and shaky, but he still held the gun there. It was a battle between fear of the outside, and loathing of the inside. The impossible struggle to conclude whether he was more upset about the entire Universe out to hurt him and his friends, or the monstrous part of him that lurked just beneath the surface, searching for any minute reason to lash out with deadly efficiency.

The decision, in part, was made for him when arms grasped at him, tore him away from the man. She clung to him, crushing him against her. He blinked. He trembled.

The Galaxy had always felt so Wide and expansive to Ketin. The sheer amount of worlds and the space between them was an infinite pool in which he could immerse himself - an infinite crowd within which he could dive and be lost. Even despite his reputation, from the bounties to the folk tales - he had never run into so much trouble in such a short time.

The Galaxy did not feel Wide anymore. It felt small. Cramped. Claustrophobic. Like it was all closing in around him, and soon he would suffocate under the pressure that bore down on him from all directions.

He hated himself for taking on the aspect of command and authority that he had exhibited in the bar. He hated himself for retaliating to the unprovoked mental attack with such explosive force. He hated himself for choking this man with his own gun. He hated himself for being too afraid of the encroaching dread and paranoia to keep it from overcoming him. He hated himself for dropping the gun when she pulled him away, hated himself for knowing he would have been too cowardly to pull the trigger on himself even if the opportunity had been presented.

Hated himself for being the reason why his friend was sobbing and apparently begging forgiveness.

Kampfer. Glades. Daedalus. The mobster. All of it weighed down on him. It was too much. It had already been too much and now there was more yet. He didn’t have anything left. The facade was weakened, his shields depleted, and there was barely anything at all to hold the rage back.

All he could do was drain himself completely of all emotion. Become a dead husk that cared about nothing, that hardly even responded to those around him. Make himself comfortably numb.

The show must go on.

But now it seemed he couldn’t even do that right. He was dazed, confused - misty-eyed and trembling. It was as if someone had dazzled him with bright light and drugged him. There was fear, confusion, helplessness in his face, pale and drained of color.

There was so much he had to do - he knew it, if distantly, numbly. He had to snap out of it. Had to smile. Had to comfort his friend. Had to go back out there, and face the short man and the mn in the white coat, and the travelers. Had to go be an idiot, to convince everyone that, despite what they had seen with their own eyes, he was not a commander of men. Not a monster who stood before a loaded gun without fear.

But he was stuck in this daze. Helpless, afraid - though not alone.

He nuzzled into her slightly. Arms were still limp at his sides, but with how she grasped at him there would be little he could do without vain attempts at wriggling free. So he just stood there, and nuzzled a little.

He couldn’t cry. He wanted to - but there were no tears left.

”Wh...why are you apologizing-” He asked weakly, voice muffled almost completely. It was hardly even a question, but only because he was too dazed to put inflection into his voice. It was as though he were sedated, and still trying to speak from the lethargy in his brain. There was more he wanted to say, but the words would not come. The air was thick and heavy, and time seemed to flow simultaneously too fast and in syrupy slow motion. Yet still there was panic on his face and in his voice. He was finding it hard to breathe.

”P-please don’t-”

He needed to focus. Needed to squash all this overwhelming panic and numb, overloaded emotion, and focus. There was something that needed his attention, but he couldn’t remember what.

Somewhere, very far away, he heard someone saying something about “backup” - whatever that meant.

He saw through his own eyes, through the teary eyes of his friend, through the eyes of various passengers and the eyes of a security officer stumbling down the hall - but nothing had any meaning. It was all a bad dream - and the only thing keeping him from descending into the nightmare was her.

”They...they’ll probably want to lock me up for the rest of the trip.” He said, eventually - voice still broken and weak, still a little too high-pitch, and with the bitter singsong tenor of hysteria saturating every word. He did not seem at all bothered by this revelation.

”You should probably let them.”

It almost sounded rational. After all - what was she going to do - kill them?

Sure enough, four security officers came trooping down the hallway in good time.

Ketin was right, of course. They were putting him under temporary arrest for the duration of the voyage. It was, after all, not at all okay to attack a security officer like that. And even if he had sort of played the hero back there - according to most of the witness’ stories, anyway - it had still been his voice over the intercom announcing a staged piracy hoax.

One of the officers produced a pair of high-security handcuffs, while the others shifted their holsters to acknowledge their intents. Curiously enough, Ketin then looked up at Nirix as if asking for permission to go with them. Or, perhaps, silently pleading with her not to hurt anyone. Or maybe asking wordlessly for her to come along? Or maybe he was just looking...

As he sat there, slowly waking up as the air and feel of the room changed and cleared up, Sergei found himself being humoured again. As humoured as can be at least, he really was not the type to laugh or smile at anything, which was simply too bad for the Ranger. Anyone else he probably would have gotten a satisfactory reaction from, or anything at all. Certainly glaring at someone, eyes - or in this case, goggles - possibly nailing the stared down person to their seats, with an attempt of striking fear to the mind of the person being stared at. Right... That likely would have gotten a reaction from literally anyone else that was in the cramped room (corpse not counted), but not him. Sergei was... Truly a frustrating person to try subduing.

At this moment though, it was best to remain silent. The Ranger had already managed to get to his thoughts by pointing out the question on decisions, so countering the man with sentences like too bad or reminding him that we had a deal, at least in the making... Quite possibly now was not the time for that.
No remarks this time, instead just his eyes closing, head tilting with a slight shake, and an exhale followed. Things could have gone better.
In the end, no remarks were even needed as the Ranger left the room, conveniently. Great, another temper tantrum. And another exhale following the sight.
Neither of them was the winner here.

With the Ranger now out of the room, Sergei could finally focus on something else. Like getting back to the situation, taking in the information that they had now taken off and that things were going to change from the usual. Just that he'd have preferred to leave more behind than they ended up on leaving. Uncounted for extra passengers were not something that he had planned.

Head straightening itself along with the rest of him as the man took in the questioning tone of Canary, not looking at her as the tone of her voice was enough to convey a message of the speaker being dazzled. Man wasn't big for eye contact either way.
"He pulled them himself." Easily triggered person, Sergei had not needed to try anything. Just being himself and reacting in a non-desired way and manner had been enough to seemingly get the steam erupting from the Ranger. No effort needed.
It was somewhat unfortunate though. The fact that the other man was so easily swayed and they felt attacked by almost anything... Could prove to be a problem further down the line.

As the situation calmed down further, other than the hostile shouts coming from the blonde a good distance behind him, Sergei set himself free while Canary was doing the job for the others. He had no reason to do much else though, no need to get off or go anywhere, as if there would have been much for him to see as he definitely was not up for listening to more of the Ranger's rambling. Leaning back, he'd reposition himself and maybe Maybe consider taking a look behind himself to see if anything was going on. Though for now, sounds did their job well enough so that visual input was not needed. He could even close his eyes for a bit.
A Rough day.

Connell on the other hand was far too busy in his own mind, partly driven by stress and worry on the other side, he was acting way hastier and would have no conscious thoughts on 'hey, maybe I can free myself'. Nope. None of that. He was thankful for having been set free, but apologies would have to wit and come later, as he sprang up from the seat as quickly as he could - but at least he wasn't showing any further hostile attitude towards Canary, other than the glare he had written all over his face. She was spared though, as he directed his attention towards the corpse then, snatching it away from her rather swiftly, having feared that Canary might have tried to dispose of it. Anger wasn't exactly his common first reaction or course of action, but he was very much on the line now, only barely calming down once he was sure and had assured himself that both Victor and the corpse were fine.
___ The corpse really wasn't going to go anywhere, not on its own at least, and the tranquil smile that it had plastered and immortalized on its face was sure to at least play it some time if its existence was threatened.
___ Victor was slowly awakened, as the last one, and after holding his head for a while due to the dizzy state he was in, he too would get off his seat. Not because he'd be in a hurry or there was a sudden rush of adrenaline running through him like with the others. No, he just genuinely wanted to go to where Connell had taken off to and sat close by. It was like a form of security for him that they were close, most certainly beneficial for both of them. The darker furred one would calmly go over Connell with his eyes, the corpse receiving a quick overall look too, but to him, the live person meant more and their injuries had to be treated and attended to. A bleeding left hand on him and both the neck and side on Connell, each wound slowly making their existence more known as they worked their way to stain their clothes. But at least he had the time to say "Thank you." to Canary for both having seated them and then released them as well.
___ Dmitri had quickly disposed himself from the seat as soon as he had woken up, practically leaping off and out the instant he could and made his way over to Sergei. Swift overall gaze given to everyone else before he'd finally take it easy. The Ranger was out, Canary was not hostile, and since Victor appeared docile, it only left Connell to be someone he eyed for longer than the others. The corpse didn't even exist to him, and the moment his head locked in on the thought 'Hah, I already beat him up', there was no reason for him to see the blonde as anyone that could possess a thread, so Sergei returned to be the only one he paid attention or any mind to. Head rested easy on the back of the seat and eyes closed themselves for the time being.

Nothing much was going on after that, but as Canary introduced herself, it'd have been rude for Sergei to not turn his head and pay mind to her. He may have been cold and independent, cruel to some too, but he wasn't going to neglect basic diplomatic manners - even as he kept them to the minimum. Though he would not shake hands unless the other made the first move out of hospitality, lest even the slightest thought of it was put to the side. Man turned ever so slightly in the seat, to assure that his neck did not snap and he'd have at least a slightly more comfortable posture for himself when he looked at the blonde and gave a light nod.
"Sergei, Volkov." Perhaps he'd tell more later. For now, the name would have to do unless she demanded to know more. He may have barely recognized the logo and the badge, but his mind was not fully up to the task as of yet. No query made towards it though. If she had heard of the Rebels Then things might be different.
Dmitri opened his one working eye to keep an eye on the situation as well, though the head that had lifted just an inch was soon lowered back upon his crossed arms after his own introduction, which was, unprofessionally, even shorter. "Novikov." They weren't a talkative bunch, these two.

But at least they spoke. Connell, remained silent, head and back turned to the others while a held around the corpse, bitter expression kept to himself. Pressing his head against the body wouldn't help now, there were no heartbeats to be detected. The cold body in on itself was sad as it was. He felt guilty for being too late.

"Thompson, Victor." Said man would be the next to present himself, bowing politely even as he sat on the floor. No courage on getting up when no-one else had sought the physical greeting either, he was not going to be the exception, unfortunately. Giving a brief look to the blonde, he'd be fairly certain that they did not feel up to naming themselves at the moment. He'd just have to take and be the lead for the time being. "And my partner, Edwards, Connell." was what he then added, motioning towards the other. "Excuse for our behaviour, miss Wong. He is a little shaken at the moment... Erm..." He did not exactly know what they were a part of anymore, having been doing something at least partly outside of their field for quite the while now, so sentence was halted and he'd turn his head towards Connell, hoping for a clarification. But he got nothing. Certainly did not surprise either Sergei nor Dim, of which the latter had definitely stopped paying any proper attention to what was going on. "... I assure you, he is usually much sunnier than this..." He could attempt on patching his words up still, but ultimately Victor was forced to cut it there, no use on hiding how he was starting to feel uncomfortable.

Connell was always the one that did the talking, not Victor, so it wasn't very surprising that when he lacked the answers, he locked up and resorted to looking away, rubbing at his hands as a distraction and means to comfort himself. Being nervous was no good for his health.

Dark furred one could however count himself lucky as Sergei took the bullet for him, responding to the second matter at hand that Canary had brought up now that names had rolled. Likely his response wasn't quite going to be what the woman had been looking for.
"We did not exactly reach a conclusion before we got company." Eyes and head trailing over to the distant duo and the corpse as he spoke the sentence, rather cold in tone, but not specifically placing blame upon them. Was that how the situation unfolded though? The fleeting, fading drugs in his system still hindered his capabilities on remembering what exactly had been going on moments before.
Really though, the most he knew and remembered was that they had stumbled upon the man, and he had stated out his plans of leaving Earth IV and that was enough to catch his attention. Supposedly everything went forward from there, from the strange happenings of 'the sky falling down on them' and onto the ship after that. he could only conclude: "Our meeting was brief." And perhaps not a profiting as he might have thought of it to be? He did not hope, but he too had at least some standards and expectations. "Do you, then, know what his actual objective was?" What he sought, the Ranger.

A moment of silence, Sergei had his hazel eyes, not too far from being closed, looking towards Wong, waiting for her to perhaps answer with something he himself found useful and enlightening. But it didn't take long for Connell to start spewing murder after the initial wave of relief of making sure that everything was alright had washed over him. He was now catching up, and did not save any of that savoury bitterness that had pent up and pushed itself to the surface from under his tone as he spoke.
"You don't need to tell that ******* anything." Not saving of or apologizing for being potty mouthed. Sure he'd still keep his back turned, but darn if his forwards directed glare wouldn't be enough to murder a man. "That **** does not deserve any answers until he gives some himself."

Sergei felt the fact that this was going to interrupt their current conversation, likely no matter what. But he wasn't going to grasp the subject, readily turning himself away from the back where Connell was, still holding onto the corpse. He was not paying mind to him at all, other than the unamuzed, turning, he'd not address the blonde.

"Too shoddy to reply? Huh? Maybe you aren't such a big shot afterall, acting all high and mighty." Connell took on to hold his own head high and acting like he was someone of a higher power, muzzle pointed upwards, eyes closed and head turned, all to look as vain as possible. He just really wanted to get on Sergei's nerves at this point.
His aggressively poking manner had now attracted the attention of Dim, whom lucky enough stayed still, but with a frown and both icy eyes open, he was not happy at all towards whatever it was that Connell was attempting. Had Sergei not been there the albino would have snarled soundly at any distraction at all, but he held off from being triggered just for that reason. The human had this, he knew it for sure.
And sure enough, Sergei was not too bothered or taken by Connell's crude insults, brushing them off like they were not meaningful in the slightest. No attempts at eye contact were made. He did not need such for his tone stayed calm and cold while he disregarded the thread.

"Not now, leave it be. I am clearly having a conversation." was now given as a counter, his non-caring attitude alluding to how little meaning Connell's words held to him. But then again, it had already been established that he had no actual ground or control over them, the two additional canids. Dmitri would jump in front of a plane for him, without the need of a request being made if he so pleased, but the blonde nor the one with the dark fur, they were not obliged to follow the orders he gave.

And Connell was sure to use that to his advantage, flicking it right back at Sergei, the words used.
"Hah..! Like that ever stopped Him from interrupting." Weight put on the counter, especially as he spoke of this him. The blonde really wanted for that word in specific to stick out, because he knew that unless he sharpened the blade, his jabs wouldn't get through the skin. "You never complained when He did that."

And having an extremely poisoned tip helped. It could slip right through.
Past the defences.

The slightest, mildest hint of irritation could be spotted on Sergei as he briefly frowned at the mention. He was still fine, just that he did not exactly like it, especially recently, when a certain someone was pulled in to any conversation.
Dmitri reacted to this change in mood rather rapidly though, the implied pressure on the word provoked him as well, even more so than the human. His reaction to the announcement was wordless as well, but the reaction, or the outburst he held back, was pulled far closer to the surface, fangs being bared at the blonde over his comment. Light snarling from the back of his throat also present, Connell followed the act and bore his own pearly whites at the albino. This in return had Dim ruffling up his fur, definitely changing his posture to a more ready for an assault attempt as well, only to be halted and silenced by Sergei, his arm held to his side and head dipping ever so slightly. That small frown was still present though.
Canary may have attempted to lay down some signs of 'please calm down' on the two groups. At least Victor was making the motion of lowering spread palms while looking at both sides if no-one else was. Too bad it had no effect and the situation continued as Connell spat out another jab at the seemingly opposing side.

"Oh? Am I offending you?" Faking an attempt of sounding surprised. "Oh sorry. Too bad~ Maybe if He was here you could feel a little more at ease." Now he was definitely putting down some snarkier attitude and feel to his words. The canid knew he had managed to hit a nerve.

Sergei could only shake his head at the childish behaviour of the blonde. He really should not be caring about this.
"You are overly attached, give it up." Spoken after a sigh, he still refused to make eye contact even as he straightened himself.

The blonde huffed, now strangely humoured at the situation.
"You are the overly attached one. There is no hiding on where I found the body." The last bit laid down rather heavily. But it was for a reason. "So, time to speak up."

The frown on Sergei deepened. He was not going to stop until things gave ground.
"You should have left him there and not dug up the buried." Was that going to be enough, sure would be great if it was. Sergei's voice had not changed, but it did have an ever so slightly colder and more distant feel to it. Trouble keeping things to himself? Do not doubt people.
"I know he's not decaying. What did you do." A rapid reply, barked out sharply and with haste. He had the pressure on his side now, and the corpse was pulled closer. "What did you do."
Touche, as one would call on it. Sergei could try and attempt on hiding the fact that the corpse was dug up from behind his tent, but blaming it on someone else having buried there would not have worked. In the end, Sergei was a soldier, not a mystery solving or setting genius.
Why did you not dig him up earlier then? He could always ask that, but he knew there were some major flaws to that statement. Because you were always guarding that spot as if it was the chamber that holds the plague in it. Frustrating... Because surely the pair of canids must have known something beforehand. his was their only opportunity to ever get their hands on there.
He had made a mistake, one that he silently admitted but did not willingly give the confirmation to.

"What is it? Too afraid to look at me because He is here?" The tought progress interrupted as the blonde quirked a brow, expression very suspicious now.
Another mistake. Sergei had fallen silent as he was in his own thoughts, and the fact that he had to blink and mildly shake his head out of it was something not often seen. Should he brush some hair off from his eyes too? No. That'd be too much. Yet still he did it, tips of fingers brushed across forehead as he sighed, trying to forget about the conversation. But the other end was not stopping.
"Say his name then. Look at me. Look at Him." The questions growing sharper, making the unanswering side more and more silently agitated by the minute. "I know you want to."

It's not what a smart person does. Keep up the image of a lie, not when it's clear that he's up against an expert. Connell was a detective, no reason to keep it up. But he would not tell, say nothing. And his next move was, to infact, get up and leave the conversation as a whole.
This did not please Connell, who hurried to bark right after him.
"I-!"
"I do not wish to speak of this right now." Cutting the blonde off instantly, speaking over him with sharp raised voice. He was done. So done. Getting up from his seat and turning his back, body as a whole to the blonde and disregarding any further words. Clearly provoking the blonde as he cried after the human.
"I know there is something! You Coward!"
Bitterness was seeping through with words that burned.
"You allowed for my cousin to DIE!"

But Sergei was not answering to such mockery. He was leaving, and Dmitri should better start coming with him. A good, or bad, still obedient boy, the canid followed Sergei almost right in his footsteps. Sure he was infuriated, but when it came to it, as much as he wanted to do Sergei's bitting and leap at the shouting blonde, the albino managed to seal his bloodlust and moved off without saying a word. He did huff and growl lightly, looking at the other canids until finally turning his back to them.

Here. Now. Victor saw the opportunity to get in the middle of it, halt Connell and hold him down, pressing on his shoulders to keep the blonde on the floor. It only served to enrage him further, but with the change in gravity taking itself in effect, Connell could not fight the hands no matter how he tried. Man stayed on the floor.

"Connell, your argument is endangering our whole presence on this ship. Please restrain yourself." The darker furred would attempt on talking some sense into his partner, hoping that he'd actually listen too.
"I know I'm right. You know I'm right. Victor." Words coming from behind fangs, snarl that brought them out making them sound even harsher than the firmness did.
"I know."Tossed back just as firmly. "I know... But. You found him now, discuss the reasons at a better time." Victor really did not want for the atmosphere of the room to get any more dangerous. He did not want for a fight to break out and was thankful that Sergei had moved to the side when he did. No bloodshed. He did not want that. Maybe they were the smarter ones, maybe, but if there was going to be a fight, they'd not be able to hold their ground for too long against experts.
"Listen..." Calmer now, softer, Victor carefully took his hands away, hoping that the worst was behind them and that things weren't going to escalate again. "Connell... I know you're smart and reasonable, and you really want this solved..." Sitting down himself, the darker furred one laid his hands onto his lap.
"This would not be a thing if he was still here. And you know it." Face wrinkled, words strictly kept from wavering. He was really nearing his limit here.
"I know, but... You constantly mentioning him and stating that all of this could have been avoided if he was still alive is not going to get us anywhere." Victor showed some firmness, reasoning it as constantly gripping at the past to not ultimately benefit them in anyway. And while he tried to empathize with Connell, as usual, he did not want to see the other man pained like this. "I am truly sorry, but it is not working now and it makes me feel hurt."
"Like it could hurt you!" Instant retaliation, shouted and he was really close to actually hitting Victor. Had the other man not jumped back in some surprise and sudden fright, it certainly would have succeeded and landed. "You've never lost anyone! You-! You don't know what it's like..!" The last words were then silent as the man, having had his outburst, cried and turned to quickly clean his face, following afterwards to bury his head and rub his muzzle against the corpse's head, mournfully but in a clear affectionate way as he continued to sob out in frustration and hold his dead cousin close to himself.

Silence. Darker furred one sighed silently. "You hurting hurts me... And you making me feel worthless in this situation pains me... just as much..." Words fell to silence just like the room itself and he'd slowly turn away, not fully, but to keep his partner the chance to have his weak moment without insulting or taking advantage of it. He was feeling weak as well, looking at the floor and seeming hurt just as much as he was feeling. Only after breathing in for a moment would be he lifting his head to look at the others, keeping an eye on them and their doings, still trying to be useful to Connell even if his partner was disregarding him a whole lot at the moment.

Assuming that Kovacs doesn't shank or beat the crap out of the crazed naked man, Laurent cackled like the mad man he is and says "Of course the Tenner will work, not only fixing your heating problem but also I overclocked your engines so you can go even faster than before!" As he twirls in place as he looks at the soldiers.

"I should warn you that if you use the Tenner, you would most likely blow out almost all of our fuel, so it's up to you, but if your worried about the hull integrity this thing is as fit as a fittle" he says as he bags on the solid piece of metal next to him with his creepy grin still on his face.

Nirix wasn't letting Ketin go any time soon.

At first, she thought she was lucky that she was able to reach Ketin and even now she still was but...

The security officer had been saying something, calling for help or rather some form of back-up. Nirix had been too wrapped up in her equal amounts of joy and sorrow at discovering Ketin. Footsteps echoed in the hallway and in the back of her mind, Nirix knew that it was too many footsteps to be a simple medic to check on the assaulted man's apperant wounds. Looking up at him, Nirix could see the man's plight: The red headed foxkin had attacked him and he deserved to be punished for it.

 Nirix would disagree. Ketin had did nothing wrong, if anything he had ran to her defense and had tried to end any further bloodshed. He had been the one to call Ceasere's bluff and had tried to protect her at all cost.

What was that when compared to what Nirix had done? After all, she was the one covered in blood, the one who had sliced through several other passengers and left their bloodied bodies on the floor for all to see.

Yet one look in the stony eyes of the man who held the metal cuffs and the Assassin knew there would be no changing his mind. So instead of taking the simple way out by trying to take on all of the guards at once, Nirix relented and let out a deep sigh.
"If you wish to take him, you will also be required to take me" The Eoclu stared defiantly at the security officer, daring him to argue her claim.
"I was the cause of all this unrest and thus resulted me to having had killed five passengers on this ship" Nirix added, if only to lessen some of the anger harboured at Ketin. If she couldn't protect him physically then maybe she could protect him with her words, her past actions.

Regardless, Nirix would make sure that Ketin would not be alone.

The White Death

It was time.

BN-33, or Barney, as the machine preferred to be called, was a model of the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance type automatons, better known as SPECTREs. Their predecessors were designed by Hammond Robotics in 2602 as the BRD-01, but the drone soldiers would not be improved upon until 2988, with the prototypical BRD-02. BN-33 was the latter, and the only one of his kind to achieve sentience without further programming. Of course, he hid it rather well, disguising his unique personality as a set of quirks that were known to develop in units that had gone an extended period of time without systems maintenance.

However, Commander Kovacs was anal retentive about the upkeep and maintenance of the equipment in his possession. Every time the White Death was in port, he performed a regular walkthrough of his ship shortly after landing, and almost always did it before take-off, in case of sabotage. As always, he was right in his paranoia; there had been one week where he found bombs and various other nasties strapped, stapled, taped, and otherwise squirreled away on his corvette every time he docked with a station for an entire month!

Just because you’re paranoid, it doesn’t mean that there isn’t someone trying to blow you to teeny tiny pieces.

Barney chirped to himself, the temporal-spatial displacement engine built into his chassis whirring inaudibly as it powered down. Kovacs had discovered Barney’s sentience almost as soon as the Spectre came into his possession and respectfully left the drone’s body alone, only working on it when repairs and tune-ups were required from a certified professional. This allowed the machine to stay as he was, even if he wasn’t an AI on the same level as ANDE was…

It was the only real pain BN-33 had felt when she died; if ANDE was like a mother to him, he could only imagine what it must have felt like for the Commander.

He shook his head, the machine's triangular head glinting softly in the low light of the stellar void. Barney needed to resume his task: planting a monitoring device on the smaller ship. Kovacs wanted to know through what medium these different ships traveled faster than light, and so a standard science probe would prove sufficient.

BN-33 carefully maneuvered through space, his dark gunmetal chassis drifting like a piece of scrap, although the bright blue indicator lights would give away the active technology, should anyone care to look closely. The built-in Rotational Control System, or RCS, was originally an individual mobility system like that of the APEX teams, but the BRD-02 was designed to operate in vacuum as well as it could on the ground. Barney alighted gently next to the Koolest’s comms array. All he needed to do now was-

BZRZZT!!

-connect to the manifold… Preferably, without shorting out the RCS in the process, thanks to some exposed wiring. At least the probe was online, and the information it was procuring was distressing. To BN-33. This was just terrible, really. It couldn't be possible!


The Koolest Boat U Know

Kovacs pointedly ignored Laurent’s taunting as he looked at the interaction between Ellen and the individual known as Rin, almost smiling at the sheer shock and happiness on the lad’s face. He turned to Jet, “Until we get everything figured out, I want you to stay on guard over Mr. Montagne; if he tries something stupid, clock him, but make sure that he stays here and doesn’t touch anything.

“Ellen,” he turned back to the spider. “Stay with Rin, fill him in on whatever and whatnot while I go with Mr. T’yzfir to the bridge. I am not allowing this ship to leave until I fulfill my end of the bargain, and provide what I promised.” The soldier held his hand to his helmet, switching the channel on his communicator to BN-33’s “Bravo November Three-Three, this is Apex Seven. I need you to send one of your drones to the Koolest for a package, over.”

A moment. Barney’s robotic voice chimed over the comms, only his binary-morse bleating sounding through Kovacs’ helmet for the others in the room. “What do you mean, ‘you’re not on the ship?’ Where are you?” More electronic noise, sounding like a Daft Punk concert. “I don’t give a damn if potatoes are extinct here, you know we have a tonne of them in the hold. Get your titanium ass back here before I…” he trailed off, his posture slowly turning more furious. When he next spoke, he sounded calm, but the promise of doom for any who so much as offended him pouring from his voice like the Prominence of a star.

“You had better un#@%& yourself within the next thirty minutes, or I will come out there myself and do it for you.” When the commander had wanted to plant a tracker on the ship, he forgot to factor Barney’s….quirks...

The Koolest Boat U Know

A little smile had bloomed on Rin’s face. They had a solid lead. Progress would be made. The ship could handle the hard-burn that would get them to Kremlin Mall in a matter of a few uncomfortable hours. ”Cool @#$%in’ beans.” Dallen said over the speaker, from the helm. ”I’ll start warmin’ up the burners.”

Realizing that he had forgotten to address the big muscle-man after the commotion, T’yzfir glanced to him. The fact that the big guy had, with no provocation, loudly announced a determined ”Yes!” did not seem to faze anyone, which was charming in its’ own right. ”You’d certainly be an asset to the team. I’ll explain more about our current objectives once we’re moving again – but as long as you’re helping us out, I can’t see how you would be a burden. Our little faction is founded on working with others like this.”

And then, Kovacs started giving orders.

All at once, the sense of optimism that had been seeping from the woodworks was all but dashed away. Ty’s face went hard, his jaw set. There was a long, awkward moment of silence that passed over them like some oppressive specter. Sands shifted slightly, the rifle in his hands moving with him – subtly, but present. Tsuan took his eyes off Rin and looked with a similar concern toward the armored man.

First, Rin had pointed out that Kovacs had been communicating with someone aboard his ship. And now, this.

The silence stretched on forever – the overwhelming feeling that if anyone spoke, some terrible fate would befall them. Kovacs’ stance became that of rage – and, as he began to converse with some kind of robot over his communicator, his voice became more, and more furious. The promise of doom lurked in the words.

Even after Kovacs stopped, and the incomprehensible beeping of his robot ceased as well – silence persisted. Ty was the first to speak. His eyes locked hard on the helmeted man’s faceplate, he hardly blinked. He looked dreadfully sober and entirely unamused.

” I am not allowing this ship to leave-“ Kovacs had said. The context was irrelevant. For them, there was no middle-ground between friend and foe – he might as well have issued a declaration of piracy.

”Dal, please arm the power core for self-destruct.” He said conversationally, with as casual an intonation as though he were asking to be passed the butter. Dallen didn’t skip a beat. ”Already on it.” She replied – similarly casual, as if she had agreed to pass the butter.

When T’yzfir spoke again, it was with a slightly more direct tone, voice minutely higher in pitch to express a bittersweet polite formality. ”Mr. Kovacs, you and your crew have eight minutes to disembark from this vessel and disconnect the umbilical before the reactor melts down and slags both our boats like putty. Jackson, you may stay. This conversation is over.” And, as if on cue, a red light began to flash somewhere in the ceiling. It was accompanied by three, rhythmic buzz sounds, followed by a genderless computerized voice stating ”Attention, reactor core destabilized. Containment systems offline. Estimated time until total meltdown is – s e v e n minutes.” And then the silence returned – only the flashing light to continue indicating the deadly peril they had just put themselves in.

Immediately, any sensor array equipped to measure radiation would detect a massive spike - abruptly dangerous levels being directed by emergency countermeasures outward from the ship, into space.

Pointedly, Sands and Tsuan moved so as to allow Kovacs a clear path out of the engine room. A hand on his shoulder, Tsuan nudged Rin closer to himself, to the same purpose. All eyes were on Kovacs now. As far as they were concerned, if he was ‘not allowing them to leave’, they were under attack – and by a clearly superior force. They wouldn’t stand a chance against his ordinance – just the armor and weapons he had on him now would devastate them in seconds.

But the armor wouldn’t do much against an atomic blast powerful enough to melt a small planetoid. If he was “attacking” them, then they had already lost – so the only course of action was to jump immediately to their last-ditch option.

The whole thing had been bad-vibes all around from the start. The incident needed to be over now – one way, or another.

Kovacs' rage only grew, get a fair portion of it was towards himself. He would need to remember to watch his words; or better yet, keep his mouth shut. His honor was now stained, so he would have to make this quick.

"Ellen, I hate to cut this short, but vacate this ship immediately. Jet, I wish you luck," he offered the big man his hand, giving it a firm shake and discretely leaving an OSD in his palm. "For the short time I had you, you made great company." Pulling up his tacpad, he sent a limpet after Barney before grabbing ahold of what he believed to be Ellen's wrist, dragging her back through the airlock.

While his ship could handle a thirty megaton detonation in vacuum, even if just barely, he had no idea how big a boom this Firefly lookalike might make, and he didn't want to risk it with the White Death attached. He didn't want to risk it being a bluff, especially since his own ship's self-destruct could put the Tsar Bomba of ancient history to shame. For now, survival of his crew was top priority, honor and integrity be damned.

He found himself despising the crew of the Koolest Boat U Know, and decided that he would chase them down, once he knew that Mr. Jackson was no longer with them.

To be honest, Rin wasn't entirely sure what just happened.

Sure, alright, the Comma- Commander Kovacs could have politely insisted on helping them with their ship instead of practically demanding he do so... but...

Self-destruct?!

He was honestly floored.

"Ya lahwy?!" he hissed in shock, head turning abruptly to look at Tsuan with narrow-eyed bewilderment. Did the other man somehow cross an unspeakable line? This was... troubling. Clearly there was some unspoken courtesies (and of course there would be- he was in an entirely different world, after all!) that he needed to be made aware of.

But... gods-

"Min fadlak... Don't...!" he whispered, tugging at a sleeve. "Just let him leave, aiwa? No need for-"

...

...Oh.

Nevermind.

Commander Kovacs, pilot of the White Death, left, leaving the one who was with him- Jet?- into their hands and seemingly not willing risk the Koolest crew's crazy.

He blinked.

Then he glowered.

"Ana asef..." he muttered, voice tinged in disbelief. He then spoke a little louder, confused frustration clearly evident. "The £&€¥ just happened?!"

Space made Christofer feel small and lonely. While the other might have liked the wast world presented before them, open and with infinite possibilities, the canid only managed to think of how far everyone else was from him and how he was lost in the strangeness. He had not gotten used to it. It still scared him.
As did the jump, mildly, when Kallenger reacted to him speaking out a single word. And the follow-up to that was so hasty it had him jumping a step back as well.
Awkward.....

He'd be standing mildly stiff, perhaps a bit hunched over for a while. Eyes looking towards the floor while fingers pinched each other.
"..... Thank you...." Spoken with some shyness to it, no real blushing visible though, not when the lighting was like this, face too dark when compared to the fact that most of the light was coming behind him. Until he slowly started closing the door behind himself, getting over the stiffness little by little. Maybe he could smile some in return? "I guess since you did pick most of these... You know what looks nice on me?" Wasn't that the truth then?

If anything, his eyes would be standing out greatly for a while, most of the colors plain and natural, not madly bright or striking. Turquoise eyes would certainly be sticking out, at some point, now their coloration had dimmed a little due to the lighting of the pilot's cabin.
Other than the less standing out eyes, he'd look much better as it stood, and feel so too. The lightness of having gotten rid of the matted fur and blood, dust, anything. It was so relieving and made him actually feel good for once. Who knows when he had last gotten to take a shower? The liquid intake was good too, he felt very refreshed afterwards.

So refreshed that even after their little jumps, he was still feeling rather too nice to notice the blood much anymore, mostly because of the light and over just being happy to see Royanna again. He was a little too happy over having any company at all. Didn't suspect Royanna, blame her or anything for those manners, but had this all been a Stockholm Syndrome trip he'd be lost.
Once he'd have stepped close enough and gotten used to the lighting the issue had already been fixed.

He'd step closer, silently, and just as carefully pulled himself a lose seat. He didn't mind being invited over to the co-pilot's seat, just that he was a little unsure of the equipment and all the strange buttons and switches near him. Maybe there wasn't any risks like that, and the seat did look inviting.... But.... He just wanted to be a little closer to Roy if he was allowed to sit there.
If not, he'd lank over to the co-pilot's seat, maybe a little downed but not resisting.

Regardless, he'd wait quietly, giving the woman the time she needed to catch up on her thoughts and patiently didn't interrupt any of her attempts at talking. Maybe he did consider it, a little bit, seeing as it was giving her trouble and he didn't like seeing that, starting to try and focus on other things like how it was mildly saddening that she had cut her hair, even if it did look nice and clean like this. He'd have to get used to it. And try to not feel the need to cut her attempts and just say You don't need to talk of it's a hard subject to talk about...

Once she finally did manage to get words out he'd nod quietly, the subject making him eager to hear more under the surface. Had she thought of things? Made some plans? He wanted to hear, but contained his excitement to not seem intimidating or to start asking questions right away.
Where were they going? Where were they now? Would they be 'there' soon? What was the plan?

Head tilted to the side at the mention of 'Dr.Ritters'. He did faintly remember that name from before, very faintly indeed, but it still poked at his curiosity, canid leaned forward, inching closer to hear better through the fighting of getting words out.
As Kallenger started explaining a little more, his ears would be forward turned, fully alert on listening and taking in each word spoken. He was mildly surprised that she had gone back to thinking about it all, and he felt a little guilty for having pushed her. he subject was clearly concerning to her and she wasn't fully comfortable with it, but he had worked her to it. Some regret lingered in his thoughts, but he didn't want to water this down now or null all her attempts by saying that they didn't really need to do it if she didn't want to. Not yet, not ever. But he didn't speak to interrupt.

Once she paused though, he'd try to be the one to comfortably go with her words. He was curious, and although all this doubting and reconsidering made him wonder if it was all really one big bad choice and the wrong route to take... They had struggled so much already, how much worse could it get? He didn't want to think of that or jinx it, so he'd rather focus on the positive chances, maybe a little naively, but still.

"Then... We'll just have to hold hands real tight before we know what'll happen, right?" Was he a military unit or a caretaker? Such words were not expected to be heard from someone that was thought to be able to shoot a man without second thoughts or guesses when needed. He was failing at his work, but that didn't bother him.
He'd have held her hand here too, but he restrained himself from doing so, allowing her to continue and bring up a couple of points, something else that intrigued him and had his ears lowering a little. He wanted to know so much. But he was absolutely the worst at making decisions, so his reaction to the mention of people at 'Earth IV' or whatever had him just shaking his head. They were so far from it already, they had done some strange space jump and all, right? So what if the planet was no longer there? What if they were too far? Too many questions, many Many more than that. He didn't want to think of them. And since he had already been presented with another idea that had him paying attention, he'd sadly have to forget all about the other idea and to just shake his head and act as if it never existed, those thoughts.
A bit of a sacrifice there.

He saying she was sorry there was something a bit new to him. Sure she might have spoken those words for him before, but it was still kinda new for him that people apologized to Him. Usually it was hi saying he was sorry, not others.
And sure enough, he had that need and the feel, some canine instinct to get on Roy's chair and hug her for comfort. But that really wouldn't end well, and there likely wasn't enough room for them both. He wouldn't want to shove himself onto the same seat again like at the underground base.
So instead, he'd take that loose chair, drag it next to the seat, and set his arms onto the handle of the chair, partly leaning over it then to look at Royanna as she was fixated with the floor. He did this slowly, looking the least threatening possible as he inched to that position. She may not have wanted to look at him, but he'd be laying his head over his arms, tilting some and looking upwards.

If it had been Stockholm Syndrome, then he was probably alive only because he had managed to convince the killer to not kill him.
"We're going there, together, ok..?" Although a question, there really were no other answers but to agree that he'd take in reply, silently or worded out. He was being a bit too invading, and he did realize this, leaning and laying over the arm support and possibly even holding her hands between his... He was sinning, a lot, way too attached and the lack of contact had made him... Distressed? He might have been a bit of an addict, but in the void that was space, he couldn't help himself. He was far too alone with an unknown world around himself.

"... We'll be fine... Ok...?" He'd not try to go for any other act of closeness, this was hopefully enough support to the other without it becoming stressful or awkward to her. If she wanted, she could shove him off whenever she pleased, tell him to get out of the room if she wanted to. And although reluctant, he wouldn't blame her for wanting the privacy. They might have been similar when it came to some aspects, but they were still so very different.
He'd stop looking at her too, just laying his head down and staying there, ears folded back in apology for getting so close again, but he'd stay silent. Not asking of the strange device, nor the fact that others did not seem to be present. It'd have to be that this situation get solved and neutralized before he'd move on.
But even when apologizing and being forced to forget about any other possibilities as a whole, he felt rather good after getting some of that closeness that he had longed for...
He was being so selfish... Closing his eyes on the thought... Tail wrapped around the seat and everything. Good thing he was small, right?

"Ooooo how I how love to be cooked cat man!" he states with sarcasm as he hears that the crew is gonna melt the core. "I only wished I was wearing my very stylish clothes so I can die with style and not as a bare p-" he cut himself off as he watches Kovac with Ellen in hand back to his ship. "Well it seems they left, I don't want to be a stickler but you do have a melting core and I doubt any of us want to look like one of Kampfer's cooked victims" as he gives off a nervous chuckle as he begins to shuffle across the wall. "If you all don't mind, I'm heading back to the cargo hold so I can change, the engine is fine, so just stop the melt down, kay?" as he begins to walk out back to his little slice of home. He just wanted be alone with his stuff currently. Unless they need him for more ship problems they know where he would be since they won't need him till they decide to go to Lord Ova's world.

Ellen

Ellen was about to hold Rin in her gasp, but was appalled what Kovacs was doing, but for her everything happened fast, as he grabbed her arm and pulled her back onto the white death. She looks back at Rin with a sad look as she waves goodbye to the small boy. As she and Kovacs entered the ship, she looked at him furiously and tapped him on the shoulder "Kovacs..." as soon as he would turn around, he would met a chitin fist to his face to knock him on his ass. She straighten her body out as she used her legs to elevate herself slightly and looks down at him and says "What the hell is wrong with you? Do you not think before you act? I know I am a bit of a dunce but that was the wrong thing to do on your part, those people where on a mission and you, in there shoes, saw you as one to jeopardized there mission as you just assumed control. That's not right. You need to think before doing anything, people, especially them are jumpy at times. Dealing with a Dimensional Lord such as Ova, I understand there jumpiness from the stories I have heard about her. If cross a Lord like Erica or Ova then you'll be in a galactic world of hurt, these beings destroy civilizations. But you have to take more care in interacting with others that aren't hostile to you" she explains to him as she turns her back on him as she crosses her arms across her chest.

"I'm going to head back to my room, I want you to think on what you did and almost cost us our lives...idiot" as she walks back to her room ignoring whatever Kovacs had to say. She did care for him, but it seems that he could just so stupid at times, especially not understanding whats happening. Once she was in her room, she locks it and begins to gently sob, because she really felt bad she couldn't hang around with Rin any longer because of how sweet and innocent he looked when she spoke about his friends. She only wished she could be with him a little while longer.

As Ellen's fist connected to his helmet, it was almost as if ANDE was back. Same words, same time of voice...but that was all that was similar in her lecture to him. Her stance was more human, obviously upset and worried at something he did, and he didn't quite know what. Until she straight up told him, confirming his prior thoughts.

And yet, before he could get a single word of apology in, she stormed off, eyes shining. There he goes again, Daniel Kovacs: Breaker of Monsters' Hearts.

He caught that thought as soon as it appeared, his body numbly moving of its own accord. Kovacs didn't think of Ellen as a monster; sure, the circumstances of her birth were monstrous, but him? If anything, he was the monster, here. He didn't care, but something stopped him from turning away from Ellen's vanished form.

ANDE cared.

Kovacs snarled to himself, setting the ship to shift to supercruise while he followed after Ellen. Lifting his fist to her door to knock, he paused as his enhanced hearing picked up the first of her sobs, hand slowly falling back to his side. It was never polite to walk in on someone crying, especially when the door was locked. If it was unlocked, it would become mandatory for him to comfort the spider within.

A message from BN-33 popped up on his HUD, but the commander ignored it in favor of sitting down against the wall, an uncomfortable feeling of someone reaching into his chest and softly squeezing his heart while dragging it down while his stomach rebelled. Guilt, he decided. Something he had not felt in a long time.

In one sentence, he had ruined Ellen's chances of keeping Rin as a friend, and had possibly lost Jet's trust. And yet, that wouldn't have happened, had the crew of the Koolest not lost their minds. A simple, "Don't hold us hostage," would have worked, maybe some arguing, but a straight jump to "blow up everything?" Irrational. It made him start to worry for Jet.

But that didn't matter now. Ellen mattered at the moment, and she was crying because of him. It weighed far more heavily on his heart than he expected; ANDE would be...well, Kovacs wasn't sure.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, uncaring if anything heard him.

"And here I thought I was going to die of something cool. Like an insurmountable evil or maybe a sea creature that dwarfed cities, not some botched distress/help situation" mumbled Jet pacing around, pocketing the OSD given to him by Kovacs. Then the gears began to turn.

"I joined a suicidal crew of maniacs..." thought Jet in a sudden burst of terror and confusion. This wasn't one of those times where he could run away and fly by his coat tails, and he couldn't punch the problem away. His mind scrabbled more than usual and as if someone had sedated him with a tranquilizer, he calmed down. This was the new Jet, the good one, the one that stood and faced danger. So as soon as he began to assume a more brave and bold stance, he stumbled. Feeling light headed and woozy, he opted to confront the situation and actually engage in it rather than just wade it through. He had to think.

Kovacs has left with Ellen, this ships core is about to meltdown, and the cat guy is talking about Dimensional Lords. What!? How would any sane person deal with this!? He began pacing, slowly coming out of his false calmness and returning to his erratic and false emotional state. He grabbed Rin by the shoulders in less of a 'I will strangle you' and more of a 'Please help'.

"What is going on!? Is this a normal thing!? It's going to be fine right!? This is a bluff right!?" Jet asked, his words coming out in a jittery nonsensical way. Before he could get an answer, he released his grip on the boy's shoulders, turned towards the umbilical, let out a sigh and said "See ya buddy" before wiping all the nervous sweat off his brow. He had worked himself up a little too much. He thought about his own appearance against others lives and feelings in a dire situation. If he was going to change, he was going to do it the right way. The empathic way.

"So what can I do to fix this that doesn't involved anymore punching...that's a loose requirement...."

"What do you mean, 'We've lost contact'? After three incursions you mean to tell me that the enemy has escaped again?! What kind of vanguard are we if we can't even capture a sleeping probe?"

The dimly-lit bridge was suddenly silent, ashamed. This was the Versian Navy's Vanguard-ZH, 671^st Generation, 34^th Era, VS Herald: The finest piece of eldritch terror-rending hardware this side of the Laniakea Supercluster. Nothing in the history of Vers or Sol could compare to the military influence this singular machine, born of billions of years of lethal trial and error.

Manned by a crew forged into harbingers, one cannot comprehend its defeat in direct combat against the entirety of legendary Earth's battlestation. When asked what the meaning of life is, they reply, "To execute the capture and annihilation of the Blue Ghost, us as Death incarnate singular, to exact vengeance for the destruction of Sol, the cradle of Humanity." And yet here this microbe, this ten meter insect. . .

Humiliation set in. They had known more crippling failures, but none so inexplicable as this; none so inexcusable and excruciating. It wasn't fear of their furious overseer; they shared in this agony of his. They feared the tragic outcries of their ancestors, and all their cousins who never came to see the starry void in all its wonder.

But the emotions had run their course. Back to work. "Chancellor, we have it."

"Integrity?"

"It's been obliterated, but we have an uncontaminated node."

There were murmurs on the bridge now, confusion more than anything. "Submit it to Archer for validation."

"Acknowledged."

The bridge ceased to exist, the Chancellor's viewscreen going dark. He turned, tea in hand,
and smiled mirthlessly at his guest. "Well, Ave, it appears you've mis-stepped."

"Why, Arthur, I never would have guessed you'd come this far back close to home. And here I had you slated for the missionary sort."

"You know this could all end if you gave him to us."

There was a moment of humor in their toothy smile in retort. "And forsake the only friend Vers ever allowed me? You'd be positively floored how many of you have offered me the very same."

"Oh? Is that so?"

"Yes, quite so. And every last one of them is dead. I'm curious what it will take to humble this generation."

Like he would for old friends, the Chancellor chuckled. "We'll see."

"Oh, I just might."

After a moment of consideration, Arthur raised his gloved hand in a hazardous posture, and from his finger emitted a sudden flash of heat. A metallic thudding clattered on the floor, followed by another brief silence while the Chancellor emptied his cup. "Make another, Archer."

"Did that really make you feel better, sir?"

"No, but every time I do, it reminds me how close we are." He turned again to the still-black viewscreen from which the reply emanated. "And, I hope, reminds you of your place. Now, have this disposed of while you're at it.

Planet Phebean IV, Kalamir City

Once started as a planet in which environmental scientists go to study the cold snowy mountainous ranges of this jagged planet soon became a more habitual place that is not influenced by any outside group with various "cities" being sprung up across mountains over a mountain range, holding up by a combination of thick wires and regulated anti gravity generators, keeping the large platforms in place and not crashing to the ground as well as cities within the mountains themselves. To travel from one end of a large platform to another which can be a few yards away, one could either travel on the thin wire to the other side which only a few could do or by taking a 24 hour ferry service that continuously operates between platforms on this mountain planet.

For more long distance travel, one would either take a monorail within the mountains themselves and travel inside the mountain tunnels to other platform cities all over the planet. Interestingly, the air on this planet, has an interesting...thing to it, it feels odd as if in presence of something, but nothing for one to be alarmed over.

Out in the city in within the snowy park two individuals were walking, both female one of them being really tall at around just under 7ft. One was wearing a thick coat, gloves and boots, also wearing a grey Ushanka hat with the flaps down covering her ears carrying a small black case while the other much taller one wore a much more thin black hooded robe, covering her face with the hood as well as a scarf over her mouth and only her eyes can be seen. Interestingly this hooded wore no shoes nor gloves in this cold environment, showing off her nice tanned hands and feet even though they are occasionally covered by her robe. "Are you sure this is a good spot?" the woman in the Ushanka asked. "Of course my dear child, this place has the best acoustics for your music" the hooded woman said with a seductive tone, more of how she spoke than really trying to hit on her companion.

The Ushanka woman nodded and sat at the bench the hooded woman pointed at. As she sat, the hooded woman sat next to her. The Ushanka woman placed the case on her lap and opened it, seeing the beautiful wood furnished on the violin. Her eyes were gleaming as she says "This is beautiful craftsmanship" The hooded woman smiled under her scarf with her tanned cheeks raised and replies "I know, I'm good like that" as the Ushanka took the violin in hand and placed on her shoulder poised to play.

"Go Gwen, my dear, play, let everyone know the beautiful music you can produce" she says to the violin holding woman. Gwen nodded with reassurance, took a deep breath, closed her eyes and began to play the ancient instrument of humanity.



As she played, the sound waves bounced off of buildings and the mountains nearby, amplifying the sound that no megaphone or mic can do. The sound of tranquility and beauty rang throughout the city of Kalamir as the sounds of the instrument was played. As for the player, she had her eyes closed focus on the sound and the placement of her fingers as she played such a tone. As for the hooded woman, she continue to sit next to her, smiling under scarf as her head was tilted down. "Good...Good my dear let this peaceful place listen to your lovely tune" she states as she looks at her violin player as she played.

Planet Phebean IV, Kalamir City

Riagan stood on a sidewalk caked with snow and ice, staring at nothing. In a city such as this the mercenary stuck out like a sore thumb; even with his armor tinted white, his weaponry and featureless helmet drew the stares of countless pedestrians. Though he'd never been to this planet before, the way people carried on here reminded him of something. Thus why he stood there, without any objective in mind.

For a while it was almost peaceful; the wind, though consisting of thin air carried in such a way to muffle the noises of people in transit. Only the noise of distant machines and traffic reached his ears and those only added to his mystification. Ah, that's it. Deja vu. It was uncanny how similar this place was to the man's old home, when the winter settled in.Though everything was different out here he could almost hear the sound of a much different sort of traffic clogging the streets. Smelling food from stalls that dotted each corner; remembering the countless paintings on sale from craftsmen a long time ago.

A thought jostled him from his reverie; the stalls and artists from home wouldn't be out here with weather like this. He watched as a stranger, a woman wearing a knit cap passed across the way from him; it was a wonder if she knew just how many people walked down the same path as her, with the same thoughts and goals she probably had.

Something appeared in his right peripheral camera; a pair of black eyes stared at it while their owner reached for his shoulder. Riagan twisted around quickly and reached for his pistol, realizing as his fingers wrapped around its grip that the person in proximity was just a random civilian trying to get his attention. He let go of the weapon and let his arm rest at his side while the man said flatly, "You're blocking the way to my bike." The mercenary's translator read that as 'You block my bike,' but being that he saw the vehicle in question earlier it wasn't hard to put together what that meant.

He cleared the path, feeling more anxious than angry for the moment, only to keep walking down the sidewalk. There wasn't anything to do that day, nothing to focus on; he had no idea where he was going, only that he should walk, or at least he felt he should walk. Best not to think about it.

The mercenary walked a ways before he heard it; the equivalent of a few blocks in Kalamir. The music was distant but unimpeded by the sort of background noise he was getting used to in the city. That and it was familiar; where had he heard it before? As casual as a man in metal could be, the man strolled along in its direction, hoping that prolonged listening might help him remember. He followed it into the park and finally spotted the duo at the bench and kept his distance, pacing near a lovingly trimmed gathering of bushes.

Prolonged listening gave him little to work with but for some reason reminded Riagan of giant robots and religious zealotry.

The Diplomat

The way he looked up at her – it made her want to smile. Just a little. Even despite the decision that he seemed to be making much too lightly. The way he had moved slowly, almost as if to appear non-threatening – what, did he think he could prove even remotely threatening to someone like her?

Laughable – but that too she found charming, in its’ own way.

The way his eyes shone like jewels, contrasted against the muted colors of his clothing was fascinating. And the way he clearly wanted to keep in close proximity to her – that was heartwarming in a way that Royanna Kallenger would be helpless to try and describe. She had looked him in the eye, his presence alone making it, for her, practically impossible to avoid. He did not seem confident, but he did seem optimistic.

It felt like cruelty to consider knocking that optimism down with what, to her, seemed like the truth of the situation. But then too, she had given him the choice. So, that’s what they would do. If she tried to argue the point one way or the other, what was the point of asking in the first place?

Nobody had ever wanted to be close to Special Agent Royanna S. Kallenger. Nobody even liked being around her – and she had done that intentionally – right? All her life she had been abrasive and unpleasant. She had been a flat-out bitch to almost every individual she had ever met. Her men had respected her at least – before she killed them all – but they never liked[ her. They never wanted to be near her – and she never wanted to be near anyone else. That sort of interaction was useless and awkward. It was revolting.

But something had changed – and now, the simple fact that he was obviously comforted by being near to her was overwhelmingly satisfying. All the perks and privileges of achieving Special Agent status – of becoming one of the most important people in the entire, glorious Empire – none of it had made her felt even fractionally as important as this did. A different kind of important, either – not the usual pompous feeling of superiority she usually harbored – but the sensation of actually mattering to someone.

Somebody liked to be around her. Liked to be close to her. And while she had no real idea what to do with this information, it was like some coveted secret that only she knew.

But the way his ears were back – was he regretful of this? Granted, her limited resume of emotional output all but forbade her from actually telling him how much it meant – but still! He should intuitively know, right? Wasn’t that how these things worked? It was all too confusing.

Her eyes had broken away from his, forcibly relocating to a different spot on the floor – the only spot where she could avoid his gaze. It was an insurmountable task to consider any method of making him understand – and she certainly couldn’t make any kind of physical contact while also making eye contact – that would be just plain weird on her part. So, without looking directly at him, it felt like she could pretend it was someone else doing it, and she lifted one arm to let it drape loosely over his shoulders. The hand, hanging partly limp about the base of his neck, hesitated for long seconds – before eventually taking to a presumably absent-minded, unconscious stroking of the thumb about the curls of hair ‘round his neck. It was nothing like how one might pet a dog – but that only made it weirder.

As long as she didn’t acknowledge that she was doing this – as long as both of them just pretended it wasn’t happening – that was okay, right?

Right?

She had to do this. It seemed like the only way to explain that the visions she was having of their potential future were tearing her apart and wracking her mind with torment. At least if they had decided to keep running, he would be at least relatively safe. But this way? This path they were taking seemed like a one-way ticket to tragedy. For the first time in her life, Royanna didn’t trust her Imperial ‘comrades’. For the first time, she looked at Capitol City with animosity and loathing, in apprehension of the possibilities.

The two of them, just looking away, now. But sitting there. Sitting there together. It was good.

Roy took a deep breath, blew it out slowly, measured. The hand not draped over her friend’s shoulders ran through her own hair once, forehead and back, then flopped back into her lap.

”Alright kid.” She said after still longer moments. ”I’ll…get us turned around. In a minute.” Then she hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip – and added, with some haste ”Tomorrow. We’ll…head back tomorrow.”

So, was she procrastinating, now?

Part of her wondered if that was the case – and the rest of her hated herself for the possibility.

When she spoke next, there was a slightly different inflection to it – a sort of detachment from that anxiety – the exact kind of tone that came over someone who had just put off something very bad for a while, and had resolved not to think about it for a little longer.

”I…really want some real @#$%ing food.” She said – and there was almost a hint of dry humor in the words – if only because of how relatively lighter the topic was in comparison to talk of turning themselves in to a great and dangerous Empire. ”I wonder if they actually…” She muttered thoughtfully to herself, letting the words drift off. Without leaning forward – allowing her to stay positioned with her arm comfortably around Christofer’s shoulders – she reached into her pocket and produced the metallic blue parallelogram shaped badge in the image of the upper half of the Galactic Empire insignia. One of the highest status symbols in the Empire – access to virtually unlimited federal funding with no questions asked.

And, if she recalled correctly, they were designed to be untraceable, even by the Empire itself – a means of the utmost security in maintaining an Agent’s anonymity. It was priceless. It was powerful. And she was wondering whether it would get them something to eat.

To her right was a portion of the control panel that wrapped around the chair, providing a number of buttons and screens that could be used to navigate the main monitors and control many of the basic functions without having to lean forward. Great for making minor course adjustments while reclining on a long trip. Almost thoughtlessly, she placed the badge atop the panel, on a little black patch of material intended to analyze small objects such as keycards and data-drives. There was a soft beep, and a string of nonsensical code appeared on the big screen at the front of the pilots’ chamber, just above the window. It was followed by several other lines of code.

Frowning, Royanna read over the code several times – the look on her face clearly said ’I have no idea what any of that means’ – before shrugging slightly and returning the badge to her pocket. ”Come to think of it, I don’t think they can cut these things off. Pretty sure they have to actually destroy them…” She was already tapping at the controls again as she mused quietly, still not moving her arm from the canid’s shoulders. The position was delightfully comfortable, after all…

On the main screen, an image of black with innumerable white pinpricks in a vaguely swirled shape appeared. ”You know how to read a starmap, kid?” She asked conversationally, before she had the chance to realize how incredibly stupid a question that was. She tried to glaze over it and continue, with the same casual tone.

It felt good to be talking about something else.

They had decided on their course of action – that was enough for now.

”It’s actually pretty simple. The Galaxy’s mostly two-dimensional – most of the stars are on a pretty level plane, I mean. So this is like a ‘top-down’ view.” It didn’t really matter if he was paying attention or not. It just felt good to be yakking on regardless. On the screen, a little green square appeared, magnifying the image to that area. It was repeated several times – and before long, there were only several dozen white specks amidst the sea of black. A green dot appeared, blinking softly. ”That’s us.” She said, pointing vaguely toward the dot with her free hand. Tapping a button, one of the white specks bloomed into a small circle, and an informational panel expanded from it. It read “SIGNUM”, followed by “ARDELLA”, “ARDELLUNA”, and “SPEI”.

”That’s where we just came from. The Signum system. Those are the three inhabited planets there. From where we are now, it’s about seventeen hours ‘Alpha-southwest’ at standard ‘1-G’ speed... We could probably get the old boat up to five or six before we'd start feeling the inertia."

She couldn’t remember the last time she referred to a starship as a ‘boat’. That was the sort of casually uneducated terminology that commoners used. Even when trying to condescend herself to the level of those she was forced to deal with in the course of her job, she never talked like that.

It felt strangely liberating.

The fact that talking about starship speeds versus inertia would go right over Toffi's head went right over her own.

With another two taps, the informational panel disappeared, and several yellow specks blinked into existence. One was comparatively very close to the green dot. ”Those are stations. They stay in the same relative position to the stars around them.” Tap. A yellow box appeared adjacent to the yellow dot nearest the green one. It was headed as “TORA STATION”, followed by “Interstellar”. ”That means it doesn’t orbit a star.Roy said. ”Don’t think I’ve been there before. Could probably get some actual food there though. It’s only a few hours away.” For the first time since she’d started, Roy looked back to Toffi – expression mostly blank, but in an almost apathetically contented way.

”Whaddya’ say, kid?”

Asking him to make another decision?

Madness.

But, after making him choose whether or not to be fugitives for life, the decision of whether or not to go find something to eat would probably be a little easier to make.

---

The Koolest Boat U Know

They were all very serious.

Kovacs bade his farewell to Jackson, and went about dragging the spider-woman off with him. In tense sobriety, the rest followed around the corner – seeing through to the end that he went through the umbilical without doing anything stupid. The Commander had made good time – he had barely crossed the threshold before the White Death’s doors were hissing shut. The Koolest Boat’s followed seconds after.

Nobody had said anything the whole time. Were they sociopaths? Clearly insane – but to what extent?

Rin was tugging at Tsuan’s sleeve, but he gave the Nyran only a half-second glance in which nothing could be translated…Nothing except the fact that he was clearly holding his breath.

Had T’yzfir been this mad all along? Did the rest of the Krew know about it already, or were they all just learning of this insanity now?

Seconds after the inner seal shut, a slight shift in gravity and momentum could be felt as though a plane were yawing to a hard right – nothing to make anyone stumble, but enough to feel that the Koolest Boat was making a very hasty exit.

T’yzfir looked as though he were holding a piece of hard candy on his tongue. Then, he looked like he was biting his cheek. Tsuan was still holding his breath. Sands was out of sight, standing behind the rest of them – but it seemed likely that he too was holding his breath.

And after several more tense seconds, Ty was looking as if he was trying with all his might to keep from bursting into laughter.

When it broke, it was all of them.

Tsuan, Ty and Sands all burst into a fit of belly-hugging, knee-slapping laughter. Tsuan had both of Rin’s shoulders, shaking him slightly as if in an effort to keep himself from falling over. Sands was leaning into a wall, looking as if he had gotten hit in the gut with a hilarious baseball bat.

”Hooo-ley @#$%!” He said, with effort. ”Ty you’re nuts!”

”I…I can’t believe that worked!” Ty managed to squeeze out amidst the fit of hysteria. ”Dal how did you DO that!”

”@#$% I dunno! I didn’t know I could talk like that! @#$%’s @#$%’in awesome!”

Tsuan, still practically clinging to Rin’s shoulders, almost draped over him in a half-hug from behind as if Rin were keeping him propped up - decided to explain to the likely baffled two – though it was a great effort to talk through the continuous giggles. ”This…this ship doesn’t have a self-destruct feature.” He said, wiping tears from his eyes, and sounding out of breath. ”That was…what was just a radiation dump! Totally standard! And I dunno’ how Dal made herself sound like a computer but that was so cool~!”

Ty was leaning back against a wall now, face in his palms. He too had to wipe laughter-tears from his eyes before addressing Jackson, also with that same out-of-breath tone that came with coming down from hysterical laughter. The sort of mild sobriety that implied he meant what he was saying, even while trying to come down from the giggles. ”That guy was nuts, wasn’t he, Mr. Jackson?” He asked, running a hand over his bald head as if he had a full head of hair. He took a deep breath, and managed to continue in a more reasonably serious tone.

”Sorry to scare you two like that.” He said, earnestly. ”It’s just…we don’t like to take chances, y’know? Especially when some guy in crazy battle-armor with a gigantic warship starts saying things like ’now allowing us to leave’. I didn’t want that guy getting anywhere near the bridge. I mean, even if he did just want to go through the ship’s files for the screw schematics, he’d still be going through the ship’s files.”

“And the only time you go through a ship’s files is if you’re interested in that ship, y’know?” Sands added. Tsuan was next. ”It was…pretty obvious from the start that there was somethin’ weird about him.” He said, looking toward Jet. ”With how eager you were to get off that ship it was pretty clear that we wouldn’t want him around either.”

Then, Dal, over the speakers. ”And it ain’t like if Ty said ‘No’ a guy with that much firepower would jus’ say ‘OK’. So we got ‘im off the fastest, safest way possible. Made ‘im want to go.”

”I really hope we don’t run into that guy again.” Sands added, ”If he realizes we tricked him…I get the feelin’ he’ll be kinda @#$%ed.”

     THE KINGSBANE

     At first, the Girl would only see Severin's wrinkled expression slowly twisting into confusion, and maybe curiosity, at the gesture. Time enough to deduce that, once again, she did not met the strange customs and standards of this very weird people. There was enough time to cower into another desk and maybe use her hidden abilities to phase her form inside one of the many forgotten rooms into this place. But, just as she was about to think about the old man's expression, right before she attempted to gesture her arm to the opposite side... The old man laughed.
     It was neither wicked cackling nor insane chuckles. Among frequent coughing, loud and coarse but still hearty laughter echoed through the research department. Severin expected his fingers to be pulled, broken apart or even bit by the strange youth but, somehow, he found out the Girl's dumbfounded reaction to be peculiarly... Hilarious.

     Severin hadn't laughed like this in quite some time. His men knew it.

     Generally, that was a good signal. The research staff would slowly return to their jobs or favorite slacking chairs, working and chatting on different subjects. The Research Department into action. Most of the scientists and assistants were ready to execute whatever plans Severin had for them. Of course, that would happen under every situation. A Cutlass wielding madman who commanded the very ship on which Severin's men worked - and lived - was not an uncommon sight around its countless compartments and corridors. At the present moment, however, things were a bit too dark and the wholesome atmosphere was somehow strange with Wanheed frozen like he was.
     Still giving off occasional snorts, Severin shook his head in curious disbelief for the Girl's reaction. It was until the old man stood up that he noticed that Wan Nabes was still there, desperately trying to come up with an explanation for the return of his vanquished 'enemy'.

     — You owe my men some extra rations for two weeks. — That was enough to make Wan Nabes' blood boil and thaw the ice that kept he stood in place.

     — 'YO '<**********> 'SONNUVA <*****> <****> 'SUCKA. '<****> 'GONNA <****> 'YA <****> TO HELL 'N BACK. - The eardrums of the lab crew trembled with the barbaric screams. Wanheed made the very floor shudder with his thundering steps towards Severin, hand tightly wrapped around the grip of his Cutlass. But the Old Astrophysicist didn't do as little as move a single muscle cell of his frail frame. If the charging Wan Nabes was going to do anything against that innocent creature, he had to do it with his friend, Benedict Severin as well.

     Nobody dared to defy The Astrophysicist.

     — One Month, No Innocents. You remember it with complete certainty.
     She would feel either terror or be curious. She could even see Severin as a foolish old man or a fearless daredevil. It did not matter which it was but, the Girl could just watch the duo of ancient men trading death stares. Wanheed's dark, raging oceans versus Severin's pitch black void flickering out-worldly symbols. Wan Nabes salivated like a furious beast with his teeth tightly gritted, but, opposite to him, Severin's expression was blank and unreadable, almost as if he had forgot how to feel emotions.

     — Kill even one and my men get extra rations for two weeks.
     But, if there was something that made the Kingsbane's Captain even more irate was ration management. The Kingsbane usually would have decent rations for about two months of four, however, its journeys lasted more than the double of that amount. Running out usually meant landing on an unknown world, or a big colony like the Stella Viventium, just so they could try to buy that much food for more than 3,500 men.
     If there was a list of the most horrifying sights on the entire universe, it was Wanheed Nabil Mustafa's face when pressured about food for his hungry crew. And The Mysterious Girl from Notspace had the misfortune to lay eyes on the inhumanly twisted expression, distorted by diabolical fury that the Captain was bearing.

     Severin was just doing as planned.

     — Or... You do this youth no more harm and we keep her.

     "'Jus 'tis time... 'Jus one 'moar '<*******> time..."

     Wanheed's temper tantrum slowly faded away as Severin's counter proposal was heard through all the lab. This was no naive counselling officer the Captain was speaking with. Even though he hated to admit it, the old man always - always - ended up winning, in the very end. But something about this Girl was off... She was sliced in half and disappeared before the Bridge's very eyes, and now? There she is. Alive and in one piece, cowering behind the more than friendly Astrophysicist. And to complicate matter, didn't bring The Hat back.

     Tilting his head up with a daring, but irritated frown, the Captain's stormy blue eyes scanned the Girl's every corner. Running through her curves, oddly covered by common apparel, following to pierce her clear-white irises with a glare. His unforgiving wrist started to lose grip then Cutlass. Severin merely let out a grunt, standing tightly beside his young friend.

     — ... Kingsbane.

     ”K-Kingsbane…??”

     It was like time had re-winded to that fateful moment. Perhaps, She could not know what this feeling was, but an intense sense of Déjà vu befell her being. Almost as if the horrific memories were rewritten, replaced with much milder ones. The demonic man with a hat uttering a popular word among the place she found herself. The old scientist with a strange curiosity for her being. And all sorts of people watching the scene with anticipation. However, what struck her this time was not a wicked blade, but A Hat.
     Captain Wanheed Nabil Mustafa clenched his fist on the new hat he now was wearing, throwing it as hard as he could at the chest of the, very probably, frightened being.
     — 'Iv 'dats 'wat 'dis <*****> want, 'den she'll 'av it. — Letting out a grunt, now with the same wicked smile as moments before, the Captain turned his back, moving towards the exit door. — ... Now, 'iv she came back, I '<*******> sure she can bring back 'ma old, real hat. Work 'onnit, egghead.

     Then her slayer was gone. Disappeared into the dark halls beyond the research laboratory, where she met the old man for the first time. The mysterious turns of events that took place in the Kingsbane would be met with utmost confusion or awe for most of its inhabitants. Severin, on the other hand, felt a wide smile forming on his worn out face. Reaching for a pocket on his leather jacket, the old man pullet out a small block composed of countless sheets of a thin, clear white material.
     — Notebook. — Along with it, the scientist pulled out a thin, cylindrical object that could fit on the palm of one's hands. A clear tube, apparently made of the equivalent of glass to Her People, with a even thinner blue tube inside. — Pen. — The scientist made sure to carefuly present it to the girl, capturing all of her reactions with the built-in camera unto her goggles.

     Only then Severin would remember that Wanheed now needed to go back and retrieve the Mad Ranger and two mercenaries sent to rescue him. Not to mention that they still had to make contact with Illiya, the curious being terribly scalated to a mission of ultimately killing Maria "Lock-On" Lockheart, daughter of the infamous Lord of Technology, Kampfer. However, this mysterious notspace girl, this creature, could potentially lead to a clue, or be the clue itself, for their journey to find Earth. Or maybe even be of use to the plans that Severin himself had in mind. With all of this, Captain Aelyn-Paeryc Petrovalyc had once again disappeared to an untraceable coordinate through means Severin could only speculate about. Fortunately, or not, the Prototype Artificial Intelligence, Indra, had mysteriously acquired self-conscience of its actions, and could potentially accelerate the Kingsbane's progress on its quest... Or bring to a painful and permanent halt.

     Still...

     Would the joined forces of Wanheed Nabil Mustafa, Aelyn-Paeryc Petrovalyc, his crew and the Dimensional Lords would be able to fight against The Enemy they could barely imagine the power of?
     ... Would they able to fight - or even defend themselves - from The Enemy that spanned its domain over countless clusters of the entire universe?

     The Star-Class Astrophysicist, Benedict Severin, was only sure that there would be much to be done.