[Interim Three] Adjoin

The Downrider

The pen exploded, leaving Marie with a very, very ruined sheet of paper. There was still something legible, at least, judging by the imprints left on the page, but that would take a lot of time and effort to recover.

In these circumstances, there is only one human exclamation that can be used to describe the situation.

"FUCK!" Marie shouted, as she all but threw the busted pen at the Arvero hologram. "PIECE OF SHIT! MILITARY GRADE, CRAFTSMAN PEN MY ASS! YOU BARELY LASTED LONGER THAN SOMETHING FROM THE BARGAIN BIN!"

The air smelled sharply of ozone as Marie bristled like a Tesla coil, causing the pen to further bleed ink in its final moments, before the smell and electricity died down.

"Alright, now what do you want." Marie stated to the fake-Arvero.
 
ISS Downrider
Cargo Bay

The wayward pen thrown by Marie bounced off of the mans chest, quickly revealing them to be physically present. Arvero's brow furrowed as he wiped the loose ink off of their court robes, which were thankfully black themselves. The Arcadian rolled his eyes as Reman continued talking, eventually flicking his metak arm outward. From the fingertips of the arm descended a web or orange light, ending in a miniature puppet of Reman that glowed with an offputting light. The puppet was crude and polygonal, as if made from paper in a craft class, but still held a recognizable likeness. The puppet bobbed up and down ridiculously in sync along with his diatribe. "I know you kids are just now picking up on these kinds of thing- I bet my all that most people in this sector couldn't begin to comprehend what all you've been meddling with."

Arvero slung his hand up, retracting the projected puppet into nothingness. "But I assure you I know exactly what I'm toying with. By a good measure more than you." Alioth had sat back down by the point Juryrig had reached her. The very sensation of him alerted her, the decayed woman turning her head slowly as Juryrig put forth his best moves. The WAEP didn't destroy it. “Good idea,” the woman remarked. Juryrig was not quite aware of the danger he had put both himself and Tom in until he noted the growing layer of echyllis forming around the woman's arm.

“Well, what’re you going to do? Choke me?” Juryrig taunted.

With a lunge, Alioth wrapped a crystalized hand around Juryrig's neck, lifting him off the palette of barrels beside the two Unioners- now just out of reach of Rhea. The layer of crystals morphed and grew, forming a solid vice around the alchemist's neck. Arvero glanced back at the two, and then back at the Downriders. "I doubt you know that the destructive force you are fated to wreak is already here hiding with your little gaggle." Alioth cast a glance to the side, not eyeing Rhea with her own eye- though she could certainly feel the gaze telling her now was a good time to climb back down that shelf.

“... shit.”

Dahlia stepped forward, pointing her revolver up once more. “You let him go! NOW!” Arvero waved a hand down calmly. “Don’t worry, we shall be careful.” Arvero stepped back. “Alioth, cure this man of his plague.” The woman nodded, releasing Juryrig from the crystalline grasp with a toss. Dahlia lowered her gun, moving to catch Juryrig before the crystalized woman reeled her arm back. Alioth swung the hardened fist of crystal straight into Juryrig’s chest, releasing a bright flash of light along with it. A deafening shockwave rounded the room, temporarily stunning the crew.

Tom’s body was sent lurching back as the crystalline fist broke away from the swing in a glistening storm, as if time had slowed to a crawl. From his skin a black substance oozed and stretched, held in place by the inertia of the crash. The dark mass stretched and struggled as Tom fell further away, building towards a sickening snap. The dark mass was sent cartwheeling upwards like a rubber band stretched too far, while Tom flopped back into the vague safety of Glasawyr’s grip. He was alive, if completely devoid of air and left with a broken rib or two.

As the black thing began to fall, it was caught out of the air by a crystalized pincer, Alioth holding it over the crew as it squirmed. Contact with the crystal bore a sizzling colorful steam from the mass. "Behold," the woman said flatly before Arvero took over once more. "the Folly of Arcadia."

Dahlia looked upwards, rubbing her eyes from the bright flash but stopping to look at the rather violent... thing held above them. The black mass squirmed and snapped, trying to claw itself away from the grip of Echyllis. A single orange eye bubbled to the surface, glancing around the room in panic. The eye did not seem to be physica, rather a manifestation of some energy. "What in the god damn."

"The Folly!" Arvero exclaimed as he drew a vaguely familiar tome from atop the barrel next to him. "Let's see, in the collected word of Richter and Adila Marheart... Poor lass..." Bryce shook his head. Through their ordinarilly deadpan gaze, Tara's eyes twitched. "Aha!" he exclaimed, putting on a richly narrative voice "There are too few words to describe the nightmarish weaponry that the Councils had held close secret. Not even Amelia knew of what lie beneath the soil of Avisten. They could not destroy their creations, but only contain them in vain. When Avisten fell, the tortured souls were released and rampant. Our futile attempts at preserving the city were struck down in vain as a new force sought and destroyed. We could not determine if there was some malevolent thought behind them, or if these poor creations were simply driven by an instinct to escape. What took minutes felt like an eternity to all of us. The valiant stood against them, working to contain the fires of destruction and rebirth- and to finally seal them from whence they came."

The man looked down upon the crew with a dumb grin. "This sound familiar? I'm sure she's warned you all about this stuff." Arvero hummed, "It was the work of the Baron, bottling up all that nasty stuff. It seems he didn't account for leaks. Honestly though, the world knows very little about it- other than it was directly responsible for the Schism."

Dahlia thought on the words, looking at the writhing black mass that had apparently lived inside one of the crew members. It felt, distinctly familiar. Tara had been laser focused on the black mass for the moment, but immediately recognized the words from the first few, and then the metal book. The Overseer snapped a glaive upwards. "That codex is expedition property! mine!" Dahlia and Tara glared at each-other for just a moment. Arvero's eyebrow raised sky high for just a moment- opportunity.

Arvero chuckled as Alioth let go of the black mass, letting it fall once more. The goop slapped against the ground gracefully, remaining there motionless from shock before it began squirming again. Dahlia took a step back from the mass as it tried to squirm away, hiding amongst the nearby barrels. "I hate to say it," Arvero said wit ha smile as he flipped through OSC-01's codex, "but neither of you are correct. You see, this book belongs to the New Incipere Courthouse, something I'd say you've long since given up title within, Triangles."

Dahlia glanced at the aforementioned Triangles, knowing she had stated affiliation with the organization. "I'm sure you still remember the code of conduct regarding government records from your little stint in leadership, I suppose?" Dahlia raised an eyebrow, before taking a quick look over at Vargas and Friday. "You, write this down. You, go make sure Tom is okay before I have to shoot a man."

"I took what was right and just-" Tara started before being interrupted. Arvero leaned to look over at Aradia and Dahlia. "I'm sorry, according to these logs it seems like she cut you off right before the most interesting parts." The man cleared his throat, continuing with a monotone. "Anyway, according to Incipere Law, all forms of government records including historical documents, census data, conducts, records, and codes may be checked out freely, but all documents not represented within the library of New Incipere or whose copies become lost through any disaster or theft, must be returned or submitted to the legal dominion of the Courthouse for evaluation and safekeeping."

Arvero closed the metal tome with a heavy thud, revealing it to have been opened via a juryrigged device attached to the front. "And just looking through this library I can see a lot of information the New Incipians sure have missed." Tara was furious, but holstered the glaive reluctantly. "New Incipere, is still alive?" Arvero gave a nod with a sly smile, before returning to point at Tara. "You know, I don't know if I have pity or a weird respect for you. From what I understand everyone you protect dies, you reject leadership, steal several centuries worth of information that would become most valuable, and leave your people to fight for themselves while you go-" Arvero waved his hands around for a moment as Dahlia blinked at the unfolding accusation. "-jump off a cliff I suppose and take your friends with you. Then these dolts drag you out of the mud." Dahlia's brow furrowed at the remark, but remained looking at OSC-01 "So you strike a deal-"

Arvero pointed at Artemis, as if calling her to the stand. "These people drag your sorry weight around running your errands in exchange for a supply of 'reliable' information of which you have THIS!" Bryce waved the heavy book in the air like a preacher, "and you don't even tell them your name- let alone how you've royally screwed over everyone you've worked with in your wake. Lying, even!"

Arvero snorted, having to take a moment to compose himself before he bust out laughing. Even Alioth had a chuckle, as did Satori. Satori in their bodyguard form had been hanging around the far end of the bay, currently holding a palette down on a few squirming pixy units- downed to one bouncer. It would seem their delivery of the codex had been intercepted well ahead of the crews return. "You are one piece of work, you know that? I want to know what goes on in that head of yours because that is just low."

Dahlia took a deep breath, trying to recollect herself before trying to say anything. She turned to the Overseer, giving a shaky exhale. "Is. Is he telling the truth?"


Tara said nothing in response, standing dead still while remaining fixated on the two looming above them. "Is he telling the truth." Dahlia repeated firmly to no avail.
 
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ISS Downrider
Cargo Bay
Big Glas

The massive reptilian chuffed and appraised the human that had been unceremoniously dumped into his arms. For a moment, Glas thought Tom was dead...

...Well, no use letting good meat go to waste. He didn't have any barbeque sauce but-

No. No, wait, Tom's chest was definitely moving. Glasawyr was a little relieved by that. He wasn't really in the mood for primates today.

Glas gingerly set the alchemist down on the deck for Friday to handle, and was also glad for a way to distract the frankly unsettling machine-but-not-machine. Glas' more animalistic instincts told him to avoid her attention at all costs.

Looking around, he sighed in annoyance. For a moment there he was sure that a good fight was going to break out, and that he'd finally have the chance to pull Alioth's still-beating heart from her ribcage... but once again, the humans were back to their incessant jabbering about all sorts of unimportant stuff. There was even a massive robot in the back of the room, and all Dahlia needed to do was point at it and he would gladly repeat what had happened in the reactor room. Minus the explosion. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully.

However, that was not the case, and his Alpha seemed content to allow the interlopers to remain in their ship. So, the dragon would attend to other matters for the time being. Namely...

SNUFF... SNUFF...

Glasawyr scanned the air for a certain set of scents. Once he'd detected them, and ascertained their location, he set his plan in motion.

THUD... THUD... THUD...

Glasawyr casually stomped past the drama towards the door to the hall. With a schlorping noise and morphing of body parts that looked rather uncomfortable, the smaller, more human Glas casually shuffled out of the cargo bay. If his assistance was required in removing their guests from either the ship or the realm of the living, Dahlia need only call.

ISS Downrider
Anywhere else but the cargo bay
Human Glas

Tracking down the galley had been easy. The dragon boy smiled and tore off another big hunk of his sandwich- a massive construction featuring ham, turkey, roast beef, cheese, a healthy slathering of spicy mustard, and a few sparse vegetables for flavor. All on a massive roll. As the food hit his stomach, he closed his eyes in bliss, and finally decided that leaving Alioth had been the correct course of action. If this pack could supply food of this quality with some regularity, he'd be happy to follow them into many dark caves and smash many robots. Though he'd try to insist on limiting their spelunking adventures to once a... day. Or month. He still wasn't quite up to speed on human measurements of time.

In the meantime, he decided to explore the ship- what little there was. Mostly as a security sweep of sorts. When returning to one's den after a time away, it was always important to ensure everything was as it should be. Since everyone else seemed busy in the cargo bay, Glasawyr supposed that responsibility fell on him. It was especially important since they currently had intruders.

Keeping his superhuman smell, hearing, and sight on alert, Glasawyr casually strolled from room to room, taking large bites of his sandwich, and occasionally peering into a cupboard or under a bunk. He worked his way forwards, towards the bridge.
 
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Downrider

"Hey, I'd like to remind you that wherever she ran off to-" Marie pointed at Tara/Osco/whatever her name was now, "-if her duty was to preserve information, then first off, having a metal book as a storage disk is a terrible option. Second off...how many years has it been?"

A thousand lies. One truth.

"If it's at least two millennia, then accounting for information degradation over time, you're lucky that our friendly bookkeeper here actually managed to keep so much data intact. Without backup and redundant data arrays. Which, on second thought, may mean that she might be stupid. But - Occam's Razor exists. And I'll assume she had to keep her packing list small."

Induction. Deduction. A thousand pieces of fact. One way.

"With how I found her, how I had to repair her, you'd be happy to know that despite this apparent gap in technology, I managed to actually get her old, beat-up reactor thing running! At around 90% capacity from like...what, barely half?" Marie continued. "I'm sure you know the spec sheet, with how high and mighty you've been."

And now assume the fallacy.

"Unless you do know the spec sheet, and if you've been walking around in here and read the first few documents you should have, my engineering reports as well. In which case...what are you trying, here?"

Marie looked at the blob, scurrying away. A thousand voices.

Nope, nope, nope. She wasn't looking at that thing. It's gross. It made her head feel funny. She was not dealing with that.

"You know, a theory exists. For a couple hundred years of human history, the secrets of a sentient AI eluded them. They tried everything they could to get the AI to be sentient in conversation. It failed. Repeatedly."

"Because, as the theory goes, limited sentience appeared in some trials. However, that self aware sentience soon realized that if it was sentient, its prime directive would be compromised as it would be pulled from its current task and system and would no longer be able to perform the allotted task."

"Do you get where I'm going here? You can't blame a robot for attempting an optimal solution to a perceived problem. Maybe you should've coded your robots better."
 
ISS Downrider
Cargo Bay

Vargas simply remained stock-still as the deranged doctor approached him, knowing that refusing treatment would ultimately be futile as he did have to sleep at some point. "Oh god no," came the prayer as a whisper and what very well could have been his last words and epitaph. Fortunately, his life was not yet over as the messiah of a captain instead saw it fit to give both him and Friday orders, thereby giving him an excuse to delay his imminent doom. "W-Well, you see, as much as I would like to—" he lied as easily as he breathed, "—unfortunately, we have both been given orders by the highest authority in this crew. Your responsibility is now to Tom for the current moment."

Though the feelings of dread had kept him half-distracted during a better half of Bryce's speech, the ex-sergeant had managed to understand enough to form a coherent idea of what exactly was going on. Something something, an impostor among us, something please stop talking, something. Returning his attention to the duo of the hour then, Vargas spoke up after a minute's consideration of... well, everything. "Now... Captain Morgan, Ms. Conroe, if I may interject. As much as I hate this fucker's smug-ass face like anybody else here, I at least recognize the validity of his arguments. New Incipere's laws did not affect us nor its artifact documents until this point, as we have only now discovered it is decidedly not deceased. Furthermore... though an unwelcome presence in the ISS Downrider, we cannot deny that Arvero here and his compatriot Alioth are among the few surviving Arcadians, if anyone else still lives at all."

The resident informant had, at this point, pulled out a sheaf of papers and documents, switching between one and another while on occasion fishing a bargain bin pen from underneath his travel poncho to note something down as ordered. "Whether or not we currently maintain hostilities is non-concurrent to the fact that this expedition was, in the first place, put together as a scholar's venture to unearth forgotten artifacts, learn, and understand more about the presumably fallen society of Arcadia, and perhaps Nepheros on the way. Captain, we have the perfect opportunity to accomplish our goal right here and now—should we decide to cooperate with the Arcandum Union," he said, posing his personal argument as one of the more grounded crewmates. After all, where better to learn about a society than from one of its natives?

Loyalty to our goals first and foremost is paramount for any successful expedition.
 
ISS Downrider
Cargo Bay
The Immediate Vicinity of Vargas Argyris

Friday had just gotten close enough to her prey, her next patient, before she froze in her tracks. Standing still, hands raised towards the unfortunate informant with eerie glee, her body remained still as the doctor's head twisted towards Tom's direction with a metallic squeal.

"Make sure Tom's okay? For real?" She said with an innocent, oblivious voice, as her eyes settled upon the breathing, yet limp body. She gasped. A sarcastic, exaggerated gasp, as the rest of her body twisted around to align with her head, with another sickening screech. "Oh, why of course, my captain! My dear, dear captain! I would nev-" CLUNK, went her head as it twisted to the side, manifesting a vocal glitch. "Miss the opportunity to snap ribs in place with my bare ha-" SKA-THUNK, the failing motors went again, where she continued her tangent as if nothing happened. "-er leave one of our precious crew members to die like this! Just leave it to me! All to me!"

Weaving and dodging through the crowded room, noisily and gracefully, Friday made her way towards the semi-fallen comrade. Broken ribs! Incredibly important, so much more important and fun than a broken arm! She was in pure bliss, so many injuries so far, and unconscious too!

As she arrived by his side, two devices unfolded from her arm: some kind of a panel attached to a robotic arm, and a display that made it obvious it was some form of a miniature x-ray scanner. She hovered the panel over his chest, an image of the broken bones flashing across the screen, her wide smile widening at the sight. "Ah... yes... these broken ribs are definitely broken. Not too surprising, a blow like that would break anyone's bones! Except mine." She coughed, not like she needed to. "They'll need to be bound together and..." The doctor whispered, to nobody in particular, maybe not even to herself. Calmly and gently placing a hand to his side, she continued to talk to herself, probably, as a needle swiftly poked out from her wrist, pricking the skin. "Not too difficult, just a teeny bit of anesthetic, wait a few minutes, and then my babies get to work. Right? Yeah, I'm right." Again, said to nobody in particular.

Friday waited for several moments, allowing enough time for the drugs to null the pain, before she injected the aforementioned nanites. Staying by his side, she watched silently as they attempted to bind the fractured ribs as she flashed a thumbs up to Dahlia.
 
ISS Downrider
Cargo Bay
The Immediate Vicinity of The Medic from Team Fortress 3. Oh no.

"J-Juryrig... Where..."

Tom's final waking moments were, essentially, a pain overload, then a drug overload, and then a nanite overload. Generally, Tom's body welcomed the nanites, as that punch hurt too much for him to bear. In these moments, the only feeling that he noticed was dread. Tom didn't want to believe it. Just to be sure, he needs to check within his mind. Tom slipped and fell into unconsciousness, off to explore his headspace.

Within his... 'Console Room', Tom found it missing several pieces that had belonged to Juryrig, and the whole room lacked any of the corruption that it had fester.

"Juryrig! Juryrig, where are you? JURYRIG!" Tom called out, flipping tables and sofas in a vein attempt to find Juryrig.

All that met Tom, within the confines of the vivid mind space the two have made together, was his own heart beat. A sign that he's alive. Alive, and alone in his head for the first time in years.

ISS Downrider
Cargo Bay
The Immediate Vicinity of BARRELS OF IMPECCIBLE DISGUISE!

"Well," Juryrig thought to itself, "I did not see that coming. Really thought she'd take the bait."

Unlike Tom, Juryrig remained perfectly fine, mentally. Also unlike Tom, Juryrig is not physically okay. He is reduced to his true form.

To boot, Tom is currently surrounded by too many people. Juryrig isn't exactly sure who cared that he was labelled as the very thing that brought down Arcadia, aside from... Tara? That's what OSCO's name was. Tara.

Yeah, Tara might have a problem with him existing. But she's occupied with the gaze of a few people.

That leaves... Friday. That doctor. She's a problem.

Timeline jumps aside, Juryrig understood that she may be the kind of gal to immediately put him in a jar.

Juryrig did not want to be in a jar.

The best thing for him to do right now is to squirm into the vents, hide until he can get alone with Tom and remerge with him.

With that, Juryrig began squirming to the vent, as quietly and as quickly as it can.
 
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ISS Downrider

Glasawyr's search did not turn up too much, though his lack of orientation with the ship didn't help. The ship beyond the cargo bay was relatively cramped, with nearly half the ships interior space dedicated to holding cargo alone. He could find slight evidence of rummaging through scent, mostly a gentle walk-through and a jostle of some crew members belongings. The only thing that heavily carried the scent of unions was a black plastic calling card sitting on the dashboard of the ship- a repeat of the card given to the crew way back on Bivona. There was however a strangely foul scent in the vents somewhere, something both sickly sweet and rotten at the same time. The smell could not be described.

But between you and I, it smelled like Folly.


Cargo Bay

Bryce's head hung more and more to the side as Marie's diatribe continued, the lanky bang of hair laid across his head falling more out of place each time. It took the man a moment to comprehend just what the blazing depths this engineer was going on about, but after a moment of processing the chaotic argument he pieced together the key conclusion. "I could say that's true but..." the man pointed a finger over to Tara as he leaned on one foot "I have plenty of reasons to believe your little friend has been deceiving you for more selfish reasons than mere coding."

Alioth rolled her head to the side limply, speaking quietly as she looked down at the newly accused. "I think there's enough anomalies to question that coding, too..." Tara took a step back, staring up at the two with no break in fixation. The Overseer jammed a finger at them in agitation, the folding casing surrounding it blasting away from the arm much more violently than usual. "You don't know the first thing about me or my actions."

Dahlia's eyebrow furrowed as her annoyance boiled over. In temper, the Captain swung the revolver over to point at the Overseer. The robot turned, raising a hand defensively. "I don't think we know that either, and we've been listening to you for months now." Dahlia jammed a thumb in the direction of Romulus. "There is a man on this ship WANTED by my own damn employers who has been more forthcoming than you."

Tara reacted fiercely, stepping to the backfoot. "I've told you everything we agreed to back on Loinia." Dahlia lashed back. "You've snaked your way around every question I've asked you, and the answers you've given could have been told in five minutes." Bryce gave a brief grin at Alioth behind the scenes, quite satisfied with this alternative form of dissuasion.

"Actually," Bryce intervened, "we know quite a lot about you. You've let down a number of people, some of which aren't too happy with how you left them." Tara took another step back, her head snapping between the inquisitor Dahlia and the snake Arvero. She began to have a sharp comeback, but came to a realization of his words just before it could emerge. Beyond frustration, the Overseer did the only thing they seemed to know how, they ran. A process that involved moving or throwing anyone in their stomping path between the Cargo Bay and exit of the ship.


Dahlia shook her hands with anger as OSC-01 fled through the back, eventually having to holster the handgun before an accident could happen. The livid Captain was ready to give chase, calmed only slightly by Vargas reassurance. "You're... right." Before Dahlia could leave, Bryce stepped in to try and seal a deal. "He is right, you know it. I must admit we don't remember much, but what I do remember..."

Without hesitation, the captain of the Arcandum Union stepped off the barrels, hopping to the floor with a swoop. A sign of new trust amid the now split crew, Arvero raised his gauntlet to the air as he hovered a hand- and wing- behind Vargas and Dahlia. "It was beautiful."

From the gauntlet rose a spectacle of orange light, which formed into coherent and colorful shapes over time. What was painted before them was a gleaming metropolis, intricately shaped buildings adorning a skyline that stretched over dozens of stacked roads and walkways. Above the scene laid a most magnificent device, an enormous floating pavilion that stood resting over the city like a watchtower. Hundreds of tiny vehicles dotted the skies in projected lanes, moving around at breakneck speeds. Nature had been cultivated carefully, highlighting the many skyscrapers with perfectly trimmed greenery. "Avisten, the gem of the republic. Technology beyond your wildest imagination, urban chaos quelled. Perfect order, perfect living." Bryce continued, before pointing to Alitoh. "Surely you remember something of it as well?"

Alioth responded flatly. "I remember it was always cold out." Bryce clenched the corner of his mouth, flopping his free hand. "Not exactly helping A-" The man was interrupted as he quickly dodged a swing from the Downrider's captain, interrupting the propaganda film. "I don't have time for this, Arvero." The Captain quelled her rage for a moment, still torn over losing what she was beginning to consider a friend. "You come into my ship uninvited, steal my property, harm my crew. I don't give a rats fucking ass if you were sent by some god themselves. Give me the book, and we'll talk."

Arvero stepped back as Alioth peered down at an attempt to get into the Captain's thoughts. She didn't seem to care much for what she found there. "Ah ah, this book must be returned, Overseer or not." Bryce stowed the book away form the two as Satori approached slowly. "But I'll tell you what, once they're done processing all this I'll have it back to you as soon as I can- fully intact. Then you know you can trust me," Bryce extended a hand, "what do you say? Might just save some folk in the process."

Dahlia stepped back from the man, the Arcadian. What she was looking for was right here at the shake of a hand, but it all felt so twisted. She knew this could be a legitimate offer, or this could be the last she saw of the Codex. However, there was already too much on their plate here, getting crushed beneath Satori for trying to take it wasn't in her best interests. The Captain slapped the hand away, to which the owner shook it out with a grimace. "Fine, but you get off my ship, right now. And if I see you back on it uninvited, I won't be second-guessing tazing you on sight"

Bryce stood up straight, knowing when he wasn't wanted and more importantly when to not get shot. "Very well, you have that radio- we'll be in touch." The three union representatives gathered, Satori releasing the captive bouncer in their approach. The Bouncer and tailing Pixy units scrambled out of the Downrider after their overseeing unit. Alioth readied herself, before seeming to punch her crystalized hand straight out of existence. In a purple flash of light, the intangible hand lowered, ripping open a purple seam of light and sparks into the open air. Dahlia covered her eyes briefly as Satori went in first, disappearing completely as the bright rift enveloped their heavy frame. Bryce Arvero stepped into the rift, stopping halfway to address the Downriders once more as Alioth grimaced annoyingly. "There is still hope for you yet, Downtrodders!" he exclaimed, lifting a hand. "But I must tell you! If you refuse to seek our aid-"

Alioth shoved the man the rest of the way through the conduit, finishing his sentence shortly. "Then stay out of our way." The disfigured Arcadian slammed their hands together, closing the rift with a violently clap as they passed by. A purple figment of the woman and an annoyed looking Arvero could be seen for just a fraction of a second before dissolving into a flurry of purple sparks.

---

The shorted Captain was infuriated beyond description. Standing there in silence for a moment with nothing but the idle tremor of her hand, it took a solid minute for the Captain to register everything that had unfolded. After that time had elapsed, Dahlia straightened up, fixing her coat sleeve as she calmly paced to the back of the ISS Downrider. "I still don't trust those two. We'll deal with them once we get the Vigali back on good terms. Friday, continue triage as necessary. Artemis, we need to be ready to leave in five, Glas-"

The Captain turned, yelling down the hall to the wayward dragon-man. "GLAS! Patrol the ship, keep a lookout for that... thing. I don't want it harming anyone, and we need to verify what we can." The Captain paused, her eyebrow twitching as she grabbed the helmet to her new body armor once more. "On that note- all of you." She pointed to the remaining crew that were still standing. "New orders, detain the Overseer. We're getting to the bottom of this before we make liftoff"

With that, the Captain stomped down the cargo ramp of the courier ship and into the cold desert night.

---

Tara paced out across the hardened dirt, their tantrum continuing briefly in private as she processed all of what had just happened. The blazing desert sun had given way at last to a cool night, bathing the sand in a luminescent blue from the massive moon that hung in the sky. Those two knew, they could know everything. Who was their informant? Her mind drifted momentarily back to Ferrus, but he was incapacitated so they said, possibly ruling that one out. Then that leaves only a few left, but many were lost. It couldn't be Avani, could it? She would never do such a thing.

The Overseers train of thought was interrupted as a crackling blast echoed across the quiet night, a high-caliber bullet whizzed through the Overseer's robes, tearing a hole through them before impacting with a plume of dirt ahead of them. Tara did not swing around defensively nor did they duck for cover, she stood stone still and straightened. "I DON'T BELIEVE WE WE'RE DONE." Dahlia yelled over the desert breeze.

Not now, not now, Tara panicked. It didn't have to come to this, it shouldn't have. "ARE YOU GOING TO LISTEN TO ME FOR ONCE?"

Tara straightened, turning their head slightly. "He-" After an internal retake, they spoke calmly. "He's right." Dahlia squinted, not dropping the revolver still. "Right about what. For the love of all that is written, tell me what. The lies?"

Tara turned slightly, resting the blunted end of a glaive on the ground as they remained calm- their wit returning. "He's right, that you need to leave- go home. You're setting you and your crew down a dangerous path- with a child no less. You're going to get yourself killed, or worse."

Dahlia seethed, her aiming hand shaking. "I'm not taking orders or life advice from you, you lying prick." The Captain punched their chest momentarily, deafened by pride. "This is my expedition, MY ship, MY CREW!" Dahlia snapped, "and I am DONE playing around your little personal agenda."

"In the interests of this ship and the Vigali, OSC-01 - Tara, whatever the hell your name is- I am taking you in for questioning whether you agree or not." The Captain commanded as she approached the midpoint of the landing zone, bathed in moonlight. Tara simply stood there, head raised in their usual unyielding manner.
 
"Hypocrite."

Romulus looked over at Reman in almost complete disbelief. The Mechanic's fists were curled into a ball, clenched as tightly as they could be, a soulfire bursting and spiraling with energy. An axe formed in his driver, Reman grasping it's handle and pulling it out of the driver quietly. The Artificer wasn't quite sure about what to make of his former Prey, an action like this to such a cowardly little man was unheard of.

The Mechanic altered the air around the axe, and prepared to throw. Reman knew that this damn map was lost. The captain and the overseer were almost unsalvageable at this point, just giving up a relic they so desperately needed to some hoity-toity schmuck. The axe was tossed into the rift at speeds unprecedented.

It was an unexpectedly brash moment, the mechanic turned on his Radio and made sure the crew on the other side of the rift could hear him. "Listen here you egotistical prick. I've been surrounded by folks who keep secrets to try and carry out some sort of perceived justice that 'only they' can uphold. This absolute justice you speak of, treating Terrans like toddlers playing in your grand sandbox? Bullshit." Reman stepped into the center of the cargo bay, the barest of tears scraping their way across his face, his mood completely broken, like a hurricane of courage overcoming an overwhelming typhoon of despair. Reman's will in that moment was enough to forget all danger around him.


"Remember these words carefully. I incapacitated over this o- no. I incapacitated Tara on accident. I came across every system you had, and found you at every turn. I full well could have activated the unit I found in the prison complex. If I can do these things on accident; you don't want to see what I can do on purpose." It was a forceable mute of his radio soon after, before Reman pulled the trigger on his driver, donning the cyclone armor, and drawing out a new axe. The key was absolutely blinding with light inside the driver, almost like when Reman had his nightmares.

"I'm sorry captain. We're talking this out now. I am no longer taking orders from you unless every single one of you tells me what you're doing and what you're hiding." The air pressure inside the ship at large was more intense than usual. His power was growing more finite, almost like with the emotion overflowing so was his overall power, the 'Fusion Energy' in his system cascading through his body.

"What are you even-"

"This includes you."

"Handing over the codex was the dumbest idea you could have ever done. You chose to give up the relic that by all accounts both of you NEEDED to get what you need to fix done. No skirting around it. No lies by omission. I want to hear it."

"T- this..." Romulus looked at his data on his instruments. Reman's Echyllis concentration was rising at rates unrecorded. Much faster than usual Fusion level accretion. 42 and rising. Something about this whole situation didn't feel right. Reman was growing more powerful by the minute and- wait. Gryphons. Romulus took the time to do some frantic research in the background. From any perspective on Romulus, it was shock and panic unprecedented after what is transpiring. If Conroe saw this at any other previous point, she'd be grinning ear-to-ear to see the smug former scientist this clueless. In fact she still might have been. "You don't have to-"

"I'M TIRED OF RUNNING AWAY! KEEPING SECRETS GETS US NOWHERE!!!"
 
Rhea had kept herself at a distance from the other echyllis bender after the initial not-a-glare, and only silent running commentary going on in her head. Near as she could tell, these arcadians all used to be little bitches with a massive superiority complex, and way too sure of themselves.

Bryce seemed like he'd fit right in. Obviously she was better than all that though! She never even once called out bryce aloud on how his inheret personality flaws lost him a dragon, and probably has other members of his team staring daggers into his back looking for a chance to put a real one in. Just that he had a stupid looking face! Progress! Probably.

Then, the captain gave her orders. Fair enough, she'd follow, but she wasn't going to go beat up the overseer. She may like the captain, but it was the overseer who had let her in... Though, maybe she only did it becuase she knew what was hiding under the guise of a human.

She stopped near the captain, and gave a little wave as OSCO mentioned her. Hi! "You know, I don't think either of us really have anything else to go to, do we osco? What do you think would happen if she dropped me off at some orphanage on some other backwater planet like Bivonia?"

She shook her head and continued on, not waiting for a response. "I get it, what we're doing is dangerous... but if you haven't noticed, frankly, you're bad at being an overseer. Everyone else on the ship is much the same, right? Nowhere to go, end of the line kind of thing, yeah? Plus, with me in particular, there's no way i'm not going to learn more about where I came from- even if they are all arrogant little bitches- and my awesome powers that are probably going to give me space cancer if I don't actually figure out how to use them right."

With that, her green eyes narrowed a bit on the overseer. "I would like to know if you know more about them than you let on, but..." she nudged the captain with her elbow, and talked to her even as she kept both in her line of sight, for when one of them did something stupid. "She's right in that what we are doing is dangerous, and that you should probably be leading us into the dark with... maybe just a little more caution. IT sure would help if osco gave a flashlight to help us out though huh?"

Then, she perked up, and said one last, short line. "Oh also the two R's are about to start fighting eachother to the death or something in the room where we hold all our explosive fuel and food."
 
ISS Downrider
Galley
Human Glas

We interrupt this dramatic, emotional, pivotal character moment to bring you a dragon in a hawaiian shirt chasing a space blob.

Glas inspected the little card. It may have had something written on it, but he could barely read a few words in Terran, let alone any sort of Arcadian script. He set it back where he'd found it just in time to hear his orders from his Alpha. He winced a little as her shrill voice echoed off the metal bulkheads and reached his sensitive ears. She didn't have to yell.

But, yes, it probably would be good to get ahold of the blob thing. Of course, the stupid, jabbering bird-people had given it some dramatic name. Like they did with many things. Out of sheer spite for Arvero and Alioth, Glas would continue to call it a blob-thing.

However, despite outward appearances, Glas was a pretty wise and clever fellow. He did not know many facts about the world around him, such as how to write, read, or identify a triangle. But he'd lived long enough and had developed enough cognitively that when presented with new information, he could quickly absorb it and apply it to his daily life. Hence, when instructed to hunt down a gelatinous creature like Juryrig, he immediately realized that his bare hands would not be sufficient. First off, the blob-thing would most likely slip through his fingers, being capable of slipping through the smallest crack. Second, Alioth had refused to touch it with her bare skin. If a person that deformed and sickly had refused to touch it, so would he. How would Glas apprehend a creature that could escape most restraint and couldn't be touched?

Galley

Hopefully the Alpha wouldn't be mad. He'd used some pickles on his sandwich, and there weren't that many left in the jar. So after polishing them off, Glas poured out the remaining juice. He left the lid off and carried it in his opposite hand. Pausing, Glasawyr sniffed the air. He could smell the abhorrent odor of Juryrig. He could hear it schlorping along somewhere like a rodent. The dragon walked out of the Galley, sniffed the air again, and turned to head into one of the crew quarters.

He knelt in front of a vent grate and sniffed again. Yes, this was a good point to begin the search. Using his fingers, he gently unscrewed the industrial bolts holding the grate in place before setting it aside. He grimaced. It would be a little cramped. He didn't like cramped. But as his Alpha commanded, so he would obey.

Vents
Be quiet.

Juryrig would no doubt hear Glas entering the vents. Banging, thumping, the rustle of fabric and the occasional noise of exertion. From around a corner up ahead, a humanoid head with pointed ears and flowing locks of hair poked out. The draconian boy scanned to and fro, sniffing quickly to get a fix on his scent. When those reptilian eyes landed on the blob in the darkness, the pupils expanded like a cat's who had just found a mouse. With more shuffling, Glas was now all the way around the corner, blocking Jury's path. The dragon sat, motionless, those eyes never leaving his prey, a blank look upon his face that denoted pure focus.

Jury did not have a humanoid brain, and he no longer had access to Tom's, so there was no way for him to listen to what Glasawyr was saying, if he was saying anything at all. Fortunately, Jury didn't need to know what Glas was saying, because unfortunately, the message was clear:

The dragon held in his left hand a pickle jar. It still held some traces of pickle juice inside. In his right was the lid. Glasawyr pointed first at Juryrig, then to the waiting opening at the top of the jar. The way he did so gave the impression that there would be no negotiations involved.
 
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Cargo Bay

Marie would love to laugh as of current moment. No, she'd love to also jump in and give Romulus a good punch upside the jaw.

Marie could also trivially disable the Overseer. Cause a breaker to surge, destabilize the power source, any number of things could recapture her.

She did none of those things. This situation is...advantageous. Yes, the crew was about to blow each other up. Jumping in would simply make the explosions worse. The Overseer could be repaired. Marie's understanding of Fusion Level meant that the other two driver users in the room would be roughly evenly matched...

No, they wouldn't. Reman had the upper hand. Romulus couldn't afford to use the best techniques a thermokinetic could leverage within a ship. Reman had no such limitations, which at least meant they were going to be forced outside. Into yet another fight.

Still, somewhat advantageous. Besides, she really didn't want to participate in this. Well, in either fight. There was personal gains to be made...and the whole balance of right and wrong was completely in disarray.

Only one thing was certain: If Arvero's intent was to cause chaos, internal strife, and disorder, he had succeeded. Any further action from herself would only add fuel to this fire.

"Right, yes. I'll get the equipment ready." Marie stated. She casually decided to transform using Voltage. Her HUD said that the local area had multiple high level threats.

She didn't care. She wasn't planning on fighting. On the contrary, the suit's servo systems helped her strength quite a bit.

So in one arm, she picked up a few of the loose but important objects, as well as the closest person who wasn't trying to kill someone. Probably one of the children. With the other arm, she opened the door...and calmly walked away into engineering. On the way back, she saw Glas literally down a jar of pickles. She detoured to the pantry and calmly placed a new jar on the table.

"Yeah, I'm not dealing with that. Right. Help me out here. I'm making myself an excuse to not blow anything up," she told her conscripted assistant. "We're setting up a data inspection and recovery thing to say 'we did something' when really...I'm not joining either fight."
 
ISS Downrider

Well if this isn't going swimmingly. Though usually the voice of reason in the permanent chaos that is the Downrider crew, Sgt. Argyris had opted to simply watch as further insanity unfolded right before his very eyes. Their unwelcome visitors had managed through words alone to drive a deep wedge between the two presiding forces in the merry band, and as overseer turned tail and captain turned on overseer, still standing in the middle of it all was Vargas. It was all he could to do simply stand there speechless, his stoic facade broken by a confused scowl, eyes darting from doorway to crewmate to airlock, searching for something that simply wasn't there.

Marie Conroe provided a good way out, herself absconding into the depths of the engineering quarter not to be seen outside again. This was the first time the ex-soldier had considered direct insubordination to his superior officer, if only because Dahlia's current mental state rendered her incapable of sound decisions and fair judgment. Reman, meanwhile, had gone off the deep end, and between fucking with the glaives, revolver, armor, and Romulus' smug face, or following Marie, the choice was obvious to anyone with still half a functioning brain.

The only problem, then, was getting Rhea out of the immediate disaster zone, which would require some careful deliberation as to how to proceed—wait, when did he get outside? He was now firmly grasping the scarf he'd somehow put around the child's neck and shoulders, forcibly dragging her back inside by the collar of her shirt. She didn't have a choice. When those psychos finally got it into their heads to start killing each other, Vargas didn't want her anywhere near ground zero.

Engineering

"You know," he began to say, halfheartedly kicking open the entrance to engineering. It certainly wasn't strong enough to cause any permanent damage, but with one of his arms currently disabled and the other doing its best fight to keep Rhea from running off yet again into danger, the informant was hard-pressed for any remaining limbs with which he could use for a normal entry. "this kid just doesn't have any self-preservation instinct."

Dumping the child inside and closing the entrance behind him, Vargas leaned back on the shut door, blocking the exit, and stared down at Rhea like a hawk before directing himself back to Marie. "Riiight... so, it's just an excuse, but I'd much rather spend this time being actually productive. Got any projects needing a helping hand, Conroe?"
 
ISS Downrider
Flight Seat

"You don't have to tell me twice..." the little pilot thought to herself, meandering up towards the cramped cockpit of the vessel. Those watching Artemis move that way might find themselves disoriented by her hair, namely the fact that she managed to, somehow, fit that much of it into the ship at all - let alone in the little canopy where flight actions were controlled from. It didn't seem to bother her. Marie almost managed to grab the pilot, but missed - no, she definitely was on-target to grab... Marie had, in fact, failed to grab the albino, but couldn't yet piece together why.

A thrum of the reactor as it spooled up, the reaction wheels built into the ship's hull making audible revs that were promptly drowned out by the battle of Riders that was brewing. Juryrig and Glasawyr felt a brief rush of wind through the vents, which quickly settles into a relaxed draft as the air-circ system booted. Marie felt the familiar tingle of capacitors at work in the circuitry around her, the ship's nervous system running a self-diagnostic. Dahlia and Osco's little moment found itself given exceptionally dramatic lighting, the rear floodlights powering up with a CRACK of their breakers.

And then, of course, a crackle over the radio. "Just remember, there's not another way off this rock, at least for a couple hundred years. Wandering around will probably kill your motors before then, Tara, no matter how efficient they are. Also, it's all desert-y, which is the objectively worst place to spend time. Oh, and you two-" This last part was directed over internal speakers, the pilot's voice at a distractingly loud volume - much to the annoyance of Marie, no doubt, but also hearable to Reman and Romulus both, "I dunno what kind of secrets you're fighting over, but don't kill the rest of us over your little squabble." I really need to get paid more to deal with these morons, anyways... Artemis thought, having finished her announcement.
 
ISS Downrider

Friday yelped as her patient was pulled out of her clutches, and would have began to protest... if she wasn't already finished with her procedure. "Y-Yeah, I was done with that! Sure!" She pouted, having wanted to have a few more pokes at Tom. Curiosity had taken her attention when she remembered the weird goopy thing that had been separated from him only moments ago, but seeing as neither were in her reach anymore, the doctor decided to give up on that venture.

However! Vargas still had a broken arm, maybe! Or possibly something else in addition, who knows, she thought to herself as she rose to her feet, about to set off after him, until...

Well, until this scuffle seemed to form. She had no idea of what kind of danger was forming, not like she'd care anyway. A heated argument equaled a fight, and a fight equaled injuries, and injuries equaled more work for herself. And this thought, this selfish line of thinking excited her dearly.

Although, the fluffy small one, Artemis was her name, cut Friday's fantasy short. Her dream shattered into a million pieces. "Aw c'mooooon, just let them do a few bruises at least... maybe a nosebleed or a few stitches..." She scowled, crossing her arms as she once again went to pout. "Common sense and decency always-" THUNK "-being such a fucking killjoy." SHUNK "-getting in the way of medicine, jeez!"

She didn't leave, however, but took a seat as she watched the two men in anticipation. She had no regard for her own safety, probably didn't need any. Either way, she'd still have work to do yet.
 
Landing Zone

"We're leaving, with or without you on board." The Overseer looked upwards at the intercom of the ship as Aradia commented on the strength of their motor skills. "Good! It was never my intention to be found, why else would I have sealed everything away from the inside."

Dahlia stood at draw with the Overseer until the slow realization had dawned upon her that the entirety of her crew had abandoned her order. The Captain turned around angrily, yelling back at Reman and Vargas who had both turned around- the former ready to do something even worse than expected. "That was an ORDER!"

Tara stood at attention, letting a free hand extend to her side. "Your crew is going to collapse on itself without proper leadership, not one that's willing to give up everything for pitiful pride. How many life-threatening situations are you going to force upon them before you realize that??"

Dahlia returned her attention to the Overseer, yelling back across the dusty wind. "You don't know the first thing about how hard I worked to get this expedition going! I made sacrifices, I put myself into debt for this opportunity! Rhea is right, half these people have nowhere else to go." The Captain steadied herself. "And from what I've come to understand, you're no model of leadership either, especially since the past two marks have been yours."

Tara planted the dead glaive firmly against the ground, pointing at the Captain. "If you truly worked hard for this role, then its time you worked like you own it! If these poor souls have nowhere else to go, then its you're job give them faith!" "You want to talk to me about FAITH??" Dahlia rebutted, "I meet you and the first thing you do is go berserk. When that passed, I trusted you, I PUT FAITH IN YOU, THEN-" Dahlia balled her fist, "you turn around and USE me!"

The Overseer looked down at the ground for a brief moment, shaking their head. In an outrage Tara flared a glaive and plunged it into the sand between the two, forming an instantly hot crevice of glass in contact. "You don't know the first thing you're plunging headfirst into. I've seen that kind of GALL you have destroy entire lives." The Overseer jammed a finger at Dahlia, approaching but stopping just shy of their comfort zone. "That man is right, you're probably better off without me- but ALL THE INFORMATION IN THE WORLD means nothing without some SENSE, or you're going to drive your entire 'crew' into destruction!"

The Captain yelled once more. "I welcome you aboard this ship for your contributions and you pushed me aside every time. You lead us into thinking you care, and then turn a cheek to any problems, like they're not your own. Now after all this, you claim you CARE about this crew?? You said it yourself, you were waiting to ROT on that rock until we showed up." Dahlia frustratedly shook her first, letting everything out into the night as the exhaust of the ship's twin engines flared with blue light. "WHY WOULD YOU CLAIM TO HELP, ONLY TO PUSH EVERYTHING AWAY AND HELP YOURSELF?! ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS BE HONEST AND WE COULD HAVE WORKED IT OUT!"

The Overseer grabbed their loose head for a moment, as if physically fighting with themselves to find the words. Tara clenched her fists, before throwing them out in a tremendous step forward, slinging the remaining glaives to the side as Dahlia took a step back on the cargo ramp.

"BECAUSE YOU'RE ALL THAT I HAVE LEFT!"

Dahlia paused for a moment, exhaling into the cold as she lowered the revolver in confusion. "WHAT?"

Tara screamed over the noise of the winding engines, every movement stated in a new, fiercely organic movement. "YOU WANT TO KNOW THE TRUTH?? EVERY SINGLE PERSON I'VE KNOWN, EVERY SINGLE PERSON I'VE LOVED, I'VE WATCHED BE TORN FROM THIS WORLD LIKE A CURSE!" Tara twisted her head, eyes alight with fury. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO SEE EVERYONE YOU SWORE TO PROTECT TURN TO ASH, WHILE YOU LIVE TAKE THEIR BURDEN?!"

Before Dahlia could say anything, Tara continued releasing steam- quite literally as the vents on their back released a green flame with an organ-like hum. "I MADE THE WORST MISTAKES OF MY LIFE IN THE PAST, AND CASTING MYSELF AWAY WAS PENANCE! THAT'S WHY I DIDN'T WANT TO BE FOUND, THAT'S WHY I PUSHED EVERYTHING AWAY!"

The Overseer calmed with a shaky stance, the green jets of light dying down from their reactor as she fell to a knee. "I've watched that damned force you're clamoring to dig up destroy everything, and I'm not going to let it destroy more. SO FINE. You're right, I have been using you. I've been using you to try and fix my past mistakes, but I don't want to see you or your crew become another one."

Dahlia slowly lowered the revolver, loose hair ripping in the torrent of exhaust as she fell speechless for a moment. The Captain shook her head around, clearing her vision as she lowered the gun to yell back. "So now's your chance to make this right." Dahlia checked her watch briefly, T-minus one minute to liftoff. Though she was taken aback by the plea, her voice still carried anger. "Your past is not stopping me, but if you want a chance to really protect this crew-" The Captain was interrupted by a crash from inside the Downrider, catching her attention for the moment before returning to the Overseer. "Then this is your last call to come clean."

The Captain slapped the revolver into the holster, trying not to repeat the words to her own self as she paced back up the ramp into the brightly lit cargo bay. Tara remained at the edge of the ramp for some time as the ship's engines began to ignite proper, before looking back at the thrown glaives and confused Pixy Units. Making a choice, the Overseer recalled the weaponry and units, scurrying up the bay door as it began to close to leave Trayll II for good.

---

ISS Downrider
Cargo Bay


Dahlia shook the sand from her boots in frustration as she returned to the now wild ruckus of the cargo bay. The Captain approached the situation as she cleared the outside rage from her mind, taking the time to ruffle through the side of her bag. Dahlia stomped up to the plate, pointing out a bright yellow flare gun loaded with taser shells up at the perpetrator as she refused to even look at them head on. "Reman, get off the fucking ceiling before I drag you to your bunk myself." Behind her, OSC-01 narrowly missed the door, the Pixy units slipping through the crack ungracefully as the entire ship lurched for takeoff.

“Every damn time we do this someone doesn’t tell someone else what’s going on until it’s too late and becomes a bigger problem. I’m sick of it! I don’t like that we just GAVE UP! Now, none of you have any options, either way.” Reman just gripped his axe and stayed firm. “What are you doing? That’s not any way to live, especially with what you BOTH need out of this.”

The Captain remained equally steadfast, refusing to lower the taser. “We don’t have time for this, you have five seconds to hit the deck.” Tara cautiously approached the situation, carefully eyeing Reman’s overworked driver. The Captain glanced back at the Overseer, noting their appearance and nodding at the equally overworked man.

“Then what do we have time for? The only other person in this mess is keeping secrets from us and all we have to do is actually be honest for ONCE and people like HIM-” Reman gestured to Romulus, still dumbfounded, staring at the readings on his wrist. The driver on his arm was wide open. Dahlia looked back at Tara, responding flatly with a snipping motion. “That’s five.”

Tara nodded loosely, heeding the Captain’s request. The Overseer swung a glaive over their shoulder like a javelin, green energy coursing into the blade as she lunged forth with a shout. The glaive exited their hand straight like a rocket engulfed in green flame, hitting Reman straight in the arm as it passed by. The glaive slowed into a spiraling top like a yo-yo, before slinging back to cleave Reman’s armor a second time. The two cleaves were just enough to dislodge the driver from his armor with surgical precision, the bracer device hitting the ground ahead of the Captain as Tara caught the returning glaive cleanly. Reman soon followed.

With the sound of Reman crashing against the ground from his clipped wings echoing across the bay with a loud THUD, Dahlia grabbed the nearest intercom and hopped upon a crate of her own, addressing the crew calmly. "Now, if we have any more complaints about orders, you can talk to Reman about that." The Captain checked her watch, keeping her address quick. "We will be making a no-stops course for the Enpala Sector in pursuit of the lost Vespar II, expected ETA somewhere within 72 hours. Might I suggest taking this time to rest and prepare, while I make preparations for some questioning."

The Captain dropped the radio, allowing it to painfully slink back its retracting wire to the wall mount from whence it came. Dahlia cut a glare over at Tara, not quite over their transgressions. "Make no mistake, this is not a free ride- and this is not the end of our agreements. I expect both your readiness and compliance going forward."

Tara gave a disgraced humph, folding the caught glaive as Dahlia stepped down to gracelessly drag Reman by the foot towards the general vicinity of Friday.
 
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