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The Crossroads
Topic Started: May 7 2010, 11:19 PM (7,031 Views)
~Bloody Pom~
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Science Team has vapor for brains.
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
"Deal with her later, right now, I want you to tap into the security network."

T'kran waited for Grifter to finish, cracking a grin at the thought of leaving a smouldering hole in the station; senseless destruction still appealed to his base desires. After all, Phazon or not, his particular strain was created with sole intention of committing such carnage. Like a commando, but without the mental conditioning.

The Pirate dumped the furred woman roughly onto the floor, a small whimper of pain escaping her semi-concious form. Right now, he had more important things to worry about than her. "I'll get right on it." He wasn't going to question Grifter; as it stood, with Cottonmouth's critical condition he was the acting captain. "Don't worry about her. She'll be out for at least an hour."

T'kran's situation in the fight had thankfully not been quite as perilous as the rest of the crew; He had encountered Ing before, after all. Since the quelling of the Aether incident the doppelganger planet's destruction had scattered the surviving darklings throughout the galaxy, where they had been forced to hide, or possess and kill. But the most T'kran had really seen was a stray Inglet sapping power from a maintenance panel, not a possessed Pirate warrior.
The thing; whoever it had been, they had become unrecognizable due to mutation caused by the Ing parasite, had taken a massive beating before it finally went down, even managing to tear a chunk out of T'kran's face before it succumbed to the scores of energy burns inflicted by his weapons. He was lucky to keep both his eyes.

It took some searching to find a terminal that hadn't malfunctioned or been shot, but he eventually managed to tap into the ship's sensors. "Hmm. Now that's interesting." It seemed the entire station was being... eaten, by something. All the lower-grade metals used in the station's construction were being torn apart by some kind of biological agent; At the current rate the entire place would start to fall apart at the seams within the hour, or maybe even less if the growth made its way into the main support structure.

The ship's PA system, without a doubt one of the least-used components on the vessel since it lacked an onboard AI, crackled into life. A thump sounded over the speakers and the background static cleared up, T'kran's growl of a voice echoing through the corridors of the Salty Dog. "Well, good news and bad news, people. There's some kind of organic growth eating away at all the lower-grade metals on the station; it seems to be clogging up the air filtration systems too." A small noise of disgust punctuated his speech. "At this rate the air will be unbreathable in a matter of minutes, and not long after that the whole station will start to fall apart. The good news? The growth isn't touching any alloys used in ship hull plating. If we keep the airlocks sealed we should be fine." Another, slightly longer pause. "Grifter, I'd say blasting a hole in the hangar is the least of this place's concerns."
Edited by Bloody Pom, Jul 11 2010, 12:55 AM.
"A battle for supremacy against many foes is a battle of the best kind. There are few considerations, only those concerning where to place your next shot. It is war in its purest form." - Commander Karziel, Ultramarines 5th Company

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+Aiko+
Roffel House!

"Yeah..." Grace said. "Yeah, I found the doctor. S'posed to be really good. An expert. Told her if she didn't save the Captain that I would kill her."

Aiko held Grace's gaze for a moment as she pondered who the furball was. Obviously she wasn't the doctor Grace was talking about, leaving Aiko wondering what Grace was thinking dragging a unwanted stranger onto the ship when the ship and its crew was in such critical condition.

Grace was exhausted. That much was plain. Aiko herself hadn't slept in over three days. Her body certainly wasn't happy, but as long as it could provide her with food, she could override her brain to counteract neurological misfires due to fatigue. She didn't like doing it because her host body was much more effective at transmitting orders to extremities than she was, but at least it allowed her to function without sleep far longer than a human could manage.

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she mulled over those facts. Why would Grace grab someone else from the station? She rarely made mistakes, but Aiko could tell that Grace was hardly in top form, so perhaps this was one? She supposed it could be part of another one of Grace's devious plots, but Aiko's intuition told her that was unlikely. Whatever the story behind the newcomer was, Grace desperately needed sleep, and she couldn't do that while this stranger was outside the brig. Considering the brig was missing a wall, there was really only one option left. Aiko suppressed a frown. She hated babysitting.

“You,” she said, jerking her chin at Fiera, “come with me.” Aiko rotated on her heels and took a step before she turned and looked at Grace with a glance over her shoulder. “Get some sleep,” she said commandingly. “You make stupid mistakes when you're tired.”

She turned to face the darkness of the unpowered hallway again and walked away to finish her work.
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~beflexor~
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I just _____ in the _____.

"I'm taking him with me," Nick replied, motioning to the unconscious form. "What if I followed you instead? Do you know a place where we could lay low for a while?"

Do you remember, when I used to hide in the vents? Sometimes you had to hide too, depending on who was coming aboard. We would hide in the same place, because they would never find us there. It was always cramped. Sometimes it would be really hot, and we would sweat. I liked it better when it was cold, and we would have to huddle close to stay warm.

Then I would remember when I kissed you for that first, and only, time...


Nick shook his head to clear away the voice. It was the panic around him, and the lower levels of oxygen, it had to be. He opened the way to his ship, luckily they hadn't been far, he wasn't sure if he could have carried a body any further.

As soon as the doors opened he felt something smash into his face. He fell on top of Aryon for a moment before immediately rolling off, worried he had hurt him further. A second later, hands gripped the front of his shirt roughly and threw him inside the ship. He flew, landing against a control panel and grunting.

He reached for a small knife he kept tucked into his boot, slashing blindly. There was a moment of both relief and horror when he felt the knife slice into flesh.

"We have to leave," he cried, hoping to get the attacker's attention. "There's someone just outside the ship, if you drag him in here, we can go. I was planning to follow a friend-" his words were cut short as he recognized his attacker.

Squirt wrenched the knife from Nick, throwing it aside. He could see a large gap in her stomach where he had managed to fight back. There was no blood though, and he could see nothing but flesh inside. He reached out, curious.

The GI shrank back, all her hostility gone in an instant. She fled like a rabbit to the single bedroom in the ship.

Nick stood up, reeling for a moment as his body protested, his injuries making themselves known. After giving himself a moment to regain his balance, he began dragging Aryon inside, he closed the door and started up the ship. He looked back for a second toward the bedroom.

He couldn't help but think that the crew of the Grace were all coming together again. Though broken, changed, wiser, and perhaps even colder, they were still gathering. Like luminescent moths, each attracted by the glow of the others' lights.

~

"Ben?" Lorrilal asked, hearing the beat of the music. "What is-"

"Whatever it is you're wondering about, it's best that you don't know." For a young kid, she knew too much already.

"I meant Hail Mary."

Ben looked at her, "Where did you hear that?"

Lorrilal gestured in a generic direction. "One of those guys was saying someone would have to say a bunch of them for Trisha."

Trisha. Ben leapt to his feet. "Oh God, are they loose? Where did you hear that? Were you in the ducts at the time? Did you see one in there? What was he talking about exactly?"

"She can defend herself you know," Lorrilal said, looking almost angry.

"Those aren't Trisha."

"No, they're not, and they don't have the Beflexor anymore, but that doesn't stop them from defending themselves. How do you think we managed to find so many completely unharmed in places like bars, derelict cities, and even whole planets like Rogue? She's been protecting herself. I have a feeling that, if any of them were to try anything, they might end up dead. Or worse," she added in a whisper.

"So they're not out?"
"One is, but she's only trying to make toast."
"Is she doing any damage?"
"She's singing."
"That's...pretty bad," she could dance, but Trisha never had a good singing voice.
"We might have to get a new toaster."
"That's fine."
"And bread."
"Okay..."
"And maybe vent the kitchen well for a couple of hours."
"Fine, I'll put her back."
"They think she's catatonic."
"You mean all the time?"

Lorrilal smiled. "Yeah, they don't know what can happen sometimes when most everyone will be asleep."

Ben's own smile faded, "Lori, I'm sorry I didn't believe you. I haven't seen anything really serious happen with them, but if you say they're doing certain things, like actually talking, then I know they are."

"Thank you," she said.
Someone made the mistake of letting me publish a book, check Dusted Here!
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~DJChilllyPhil~
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Too bad@$$ to have a FACE?! Maybe...
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
*Kalos watched as the man scrambled towards his ship with the unconcious man*

"You should concentrate on getting away from the station first. I'm going back to get my ship out of here as well. Once you're clear, contact me."

*He began to make his way back to his ship, turning his head to look back when he heard sounds of a scuffle only to have the sounds stop as quickly as they started. It seemed he could take care of himself.*

"Hm..."

*The Chozo then launched himself into an all-out sprint back towards his docking bay, scooping up the box he came to get in the first place along the way as he passed by whoever was still foolish enough to stick around.

Kalos quickly entered the Carrier and shut the airlock, quickly punching a few commands into a nearby console that would tell the ship to begin undocking procedures. As he heard a few familiar hisses, he placed the box on top of a small drone that began to roll away from him as he then took off his helmet.*


"What mess have I gotten myself into this time? Hah..."

*He shook his head slightly before he made his way onto the control deck, soon standing at the Carrier's main control area/cockpit as he looked over the status of seperating from the deteriorating station. As he watched, a thought came into his mind...*

"I wonder...If she's still ok..."
"Listen well! I'll stand on top of all living things! I am now a new creature that cuts open the future!"
"Weakling, Weakling!"
"It's useless useless USELESS!"
"WRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!"
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~The Boss~
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Native Son

"Yeah," Grace said, barely above a whisper. "that's a good idea..."

She shuffled off to the bunks and crawled into a rack. She didn't even know if it was her rack, but she climbed in anyway, still holding her gun. None of them had slept in days, but Aiko and the Pirates could take it a lot better than the lone human. She was a wreck, but it was more than just lack of sleep. She was completely drained, physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Grace closed her eyes and almost immediately drifted off to sleep.

......................

"I'd say blasting a hole in the hangar is the least of this place's concerns."

Grifter digested what T'kran had told him. It was as the girl had said, but apparently no indication yet of what was causing this. He had never heard of any biological agent that could cause this sort of damage. Tallon IV certainly had it's share of virulent plants and fungus, but nothing that was capable of something on the scale of this.

"I'm not taking any chances," Grifter replied into the intercom. "To the bridge. We're leaving."

Minutes later, the Pirates had all gathered in the bridge, and soon T'kran had joined them. Ordinarily, there would be at least half a dozen individuals in here, and that was because their crew was actually smaller than what normally staffed this sort of a ship. But after the attack, it was just the four of them having to man all the stations.

As it turned out, they wouldn't have to tear a hole in the hangar deck. Evacuation had begun, and all they had to do was wait their turn. Once they were clear of the station, Grifter gave the order to spin up and start the count.

"All hands, prepare to jump"

The Salty Dog vanished in a flash of light. They were so quick to get out of there, they didn't pay attention to any of the other ships approaching the doomed station.

......................

It was well past one in the morning, according to the clocks on the Grace. Ronnie had fallen asleep/passed out in the pilot's chair, a map lying across his lap and an empty whiskey bottle rolling around on the floor. Fortunately he had set a course and switched on the autopilot before he conked out.

Down in the engine room, Nick Scanlan was toiling away, covered in what appeared to be equal parts sweat and engine grease. He'd already done a ton of work, but there was still so much more to be done. Definitely not a one day job, but he still had two beers left in the ice chest. He'd wrap it up and go to bed once he finished those.

Jimmy wandered into the kitchen, looking to make himself a sandwich. They had brought plenty of food with them, enough to keep the pantry stocked for a good long while even after the job was done. At the moment, he was thinking about turkey, ham, and salami on a sub roll, with lettuce, tomatoes and pickles with a slice of cheese and some hot mustard...

His thoughts were interrupted when he flicked on the lights and saw one of the Trishas standing there in the middle of the kitchen. She didn't move, she didn't speak, she barely even blinked. She just stood there, staring at him.

"Whoa... hey there."
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~Metamyth~
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BURMA
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
The next few minutes, Aryon passed in and out of consciousness for seconds at a time. The world, through his only partially open eyes, was blurry to the point of blindness, though he could make out a vague shape that seemed to be carrying him. While he hated being toted around like a child, he had no choice, as his body would not move for him.

The world went dark for a while, until a crushing pain came down on him, Ben having landed on partially mended flesh. Half-aware, Aryon moaned, being unable to do much else, before passing out again.

While his body was being dragged into the cockpit area of Nick's ship, his mind was back in the nightmare.

~

In his nightmare, he was also being dragged, but through the hallways of the Origin in its primetime days. The synthetic skin replacement that was grafted onto him, dubbed SynthSkin, was fresh, and his body was having a hard time accepting this new addition to the system. He would spend the next few days writhing in agony, unable to scream because his voice had already left him in the prior experiment.

Time passed quickly in this nightmare, strangely enough. He found himself in his cell, the one he would spends weeks on end simply laying on the floor, facing the cell across from him. A friend, the only friend he had, was there. The nightmare had taken him to the time they first met.

As Aryon was dragged into his cell, simply discarded on the metal floor, he heard a voice from across the hall.

"Oh, who are you?" it asked.

His formal name, as given by the
Origin, was Project Orion. Orion, the Hunter. They were trying to make him invincible, so they use him for their purpose. None of the subjects at the station remembered their original names, so they were always referred to as their project name.

So, he tried to say 'Orion,' as loud as he could, but he was too exhausted and pained. All he could muster was a weak, hoarse whisper that he himself couldn't even make out. Then, he would pass out.

The nightmare took him day by day, and each day, the figure across the hall would ask him his name. Each day he would get stronger, but could only muster a whisper when asked, until one day, when he put every ounce of energy behind his voice. "Aryon," he said, his lips barely being able to pronounce the sounds.

"Aryon?" came the voice. "Aryon. I like the sound of it. My name is Tyrael."

And with that, they began to talk to each other, becoming substituted brothers for each other. Aryon would later try to say that his name was "Orion," and that he was just too tired to say it right, but Tyrael would always protest. "Orion? I like Aryon better."

Unfortunately, though the two had each other every day, the testing came every day as well. Tyrael was already in his cell, arms around his knees, when they dragged Aryon back to his own area.

"Looks like they went soft on you today," Tyrael said quietly once the guards had left.

"I guess," Aryon croaked. "It still hurts. I mean, you come back every day without a scratch on you. What are you even here for?"

Tyrael didn't respond for a while. Then... "My soul."

"What?"

"My soul. They're messing with my soul."

"What do you mean? They can't just go and cut up someone's soul, Tyrael."

"They don't need knives, Aryon! They need you for your body, and me for my soul. That's why we're together like this. We're just two broken pieces that are whole when we're together."

"But... I still don't get it. Your soul?"

"They... put things into my head, Aryon. Thoughts, emotions. They change me on the inside. I can feel their little fingers in my brain, even right now."


Aryon fell quiet, as he was beginning to understand. "I... I don't--"

"Look, enough about me, are you okay? I mean, what are they even doing to you?"

"I... don't know. They just keep cutting me up. I don't even remember what just happened."

Tyrael smiled from across the hall. "Its going to be okay, though. I know it."

"How? That's a pretty bold statement, I mean, have you looked around lately?"

"I dunno, I just... know. Like, this voice in the back of my head is telling me it's going to be okay. So, as long as I hear it, it makes me feel like it really is going to get better."


~

It really is going to get better...


The echoing voice seemingly brought Aryon out of his comatose state. He had been resting long enough that most of his wounds had healed, and all of the mold was eradicated. He would still need much more time to rest, however. How long has it been?

His vision was still blurry, so he called out. "Hello? Is anyone there? Please."
"Nothing... a shadow is nothing. It is merely a question not yet answered. We only fear the dark if we have no means of lighting our way.

Death comes to all, Morningstar. The world turns, the dawn comes... and under the light of the sun I shall slay giants."


Dresden Codak, Dark Science
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+Aiko+
Roffel House!

(OOC: Metamyth, hope you don't mind me making a few assumptions here. If you want me to change anything, lemme know!)

Although Aryon was mostly blind, what he didn't know was that his traumatic experience of having his synthskin essentially digested by fungus had affected his ability to feel pain. The new material had yet to hook up to his nervous system.

It was because of this that he didn't notice something was chewing on his nose until, all at once, the nerves finally reconnected.

With a surprised yelp, Aryon whacked whatever was on his face off with the palm of his hand. Something spiny pricked his skin, then something smooth and cool wrapped around his wrist. An instant later, he felt little pin pricks all up and down his forearm, matched with a loud, prolonged hiss. The prancing seemed to stop the instant he heard a bunch of animated chitters, then whatever it was jumped off and landed lightly on his chest.

His vision was blurry, but there sitting on him was something small, black, and orange, with what seemed like blue spikes sticking out of its back. Two beady black eyes regarded him as if the creature was affronted. It chittered at him again, then walked forward... on three pairs of clawed feet... and took a final, big bite out of Aryon's nose. Then, right as Aryon was about to swat it away again, it just... vanished. It didn't jump, it didn't move, it just... wasn't there anymore.

Across the ship, the creature popped into existence with a tiny, electrical crackle. Its six set of legs held it firmly against the bulkhead of the cockpit, where it chittered angrily at whoever was sitting on the pilot's chair before climbing up to a tiny space out of reach, where it curled and watched the person below with annoyed eyes while it munched on something small and pink.
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~SaintlyTurkey~
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BONEITIS!
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Blacksun smashed his gloved fists against the console in front of him. Thankfully it had been broken long ago, and the most use it got nowadays was an outlet for his rage whenever he was on the bridge when something went wrong, which was quite often. They'd been watching that station like hawks for any escaping ships, and one had slipped through! Caught them completely unprepared. Even worse, it had got away before the ship's ancient computers could get a lock on, so they wouldn't be able to track it.

"Captain! Bring us closer to the station! So close to the docking bay that any fleeing ships will have no choice but to pass close by us. I don't want any more of them escaping! Do I make myself clear!?" Blacksun smashed the console a final time, a few keys flying off in the process.

Captain Verner gave a salute. "Of course, General. It won't happen again!" and with that, he turned and began screaming orders to the crew.

"Oh yes, and Captain? have someone go and fetch my other mask."

***

The reddish-grey rectangular block that was The Shrieking Sabre pulled in closer to the station. The ship only had a few working turrets, but Blacksun had made sure all of them looked to be in working condition.
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~Bloody Pom~
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Science Team has vapor for brains.
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Fiera was on her feet before her mind registered that she was conscious again. Sight and hearing quickly followed, and finally the lingering ache in her lower back. She'd have one hell of a bruise there in a few hours. Clutching her side, she looked around from her crouched position. The woman breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the Pirates had left, but froze once again, recognising the presence of another.

“You,” commanded the voice, “come with me.”

It was a woman, not the one who had brought her into this mess, nor the doctor who'd also been suckered in. Standing up gingerly, Fiera turned to look for the source of the voice, but the figure it belonged to had already disappeared down a darkened corridor. Reasoning that whoever this woman was, she was a better choice than dealing with those overgrown crabs again, Fiera followed Aiko into the dark, feline eyes quickly adjusting to their new surroundings.

-------

T'kran suppressed a smirk as he heard Grifter's command. "Aye aye." This had been without a doubt the shortest stopover on a station he'd had in a long time.

Once at the bridge, T'kran took up station at the sensors, for the simple fact that he could sift through incoming data faster than the others. What caught his attention was a pair of contacts on the long-range scans, seemingly lurking near the station. Waiting for something. He wasn't sure what either of them were given the ship's poor sensor range, and it didn't seem to affect them, so he kept the information to himself.

"Looks like we're all clear. Hold on to your lunches." There was a flash, and then everything tasted purple.

Even after all this time, FTL travel still made T'kran queasy.
Edited by Bloody Pom, Jul 23 2010, 11:40 PM.
"A battle for supremacy against many foes is a battle of the best kind. There are few considerations, only those concerning where to place your next shot. It is war in its purest form." - Commander Karziel, Ultramarines 5th Company

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~Emperor~
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[ *  *  *  *  * ]
“Some biological agent is doing this to the station, though what, we can't tell without getting a sample.”
Val'Azor frowned as the corporal spoke. They had no time to get samples.

“Well we can't do that, the Salty Dog will undoubtedly be leaving the station shortly. Very shortly, given the state of the station...”

“Yes sir...” They were both silent, eying the station.

A beep interrupted them.

The nearest pirate hastily maneuvered to shut it off under Val'Azor's glare, though what the corporal saw caused him to stop. “Sir... the station is broadcasting a distress signal on all frequencies; I think they're evacuating now.”

“Well then get ready to track the Salty Dog, I don't think they're going to stick around here.”

The station's hangar doors had creaked to an open with a few ships already beginning to creep their way out. This was it. Again. Val'Azor thought agitatedly, leaning forward in his chair to get more detail out of the viewscreen. Though he didn't see the rebel ship yet.

There was another, different beep.

“Ah... um, sir,” The corporal spoke again. “We're being hailed...” He slowly looked at Val'Azor.

“By who?” He still didn't see the rebel ship.

“The station. They're hailing all ships in the vicinity; seems they want hel-”

Val'Azor waved his hands to keep the corporal quiet.. “Like hell we're going to help a Federation station. Why did you even bother to tell me?”

A sudden bright flash on the viewscreen immediately caught Val'Azor attention. That was a ship's jump!

There were more ships outside of the station now, but the Salty Dog still wasn't there. When the last of the ships exited, he felt a sinking feeling. And then irritation.

“A ship jumped.” He knew that flash. “Which ship?”

The corporal was quiet, then said what Val'Azor had already suspected. It was the Salty Dog that had jumped.

“Why didn't you tell me they had left the station!?” he spat the words out.

“With the station hailing...” The corporal helplessly looked around the bridge as if for help, but soon another pirate spoke up.

“There were a lot of ships leaving then, and they jumped almost immediately after exiting the hangar. The mixup would have been easy.” Val'Azor swiveled his chair to face the speaker, though when he saw who it was he refrained from retorting.

The pirate who spoke was a Zebesian, complete with their oversized claws, but a silver marking on his exoskeleton identified him as an officer. He was coolly staring at Val'Azor, who eyed him warily.

His 'assigned' lieutenant.

“Hmmph.” Val'Azor looked back to the viewscreen. “Tell me at least we managed to lock onto them.”

“No, but we can track them all the same.” With that, the Lieutenant keyed in a sequence on his console, causing a small map to appear in a corner of the viewscreen. “Their reactor was damaged in the previous attack, causing them to leave a rather messy trail behind them, if you know what to look with.” The zebesian keyed in another sequence and an overlay appeared on the map; a yellow line led from the station outside of their detection range, while another one showed the Salty Dog's entry. “Even while jumping.”

Val'Azor was momentarily impressed, then felt the urge to ask why he hadn't been told before. Before he could ask though, the Lieutenant spoke again.

“There's just one problem... We can't detect it while in hyperspace.”

“That's not a problem at all,” Val'Azor said almost instantly.

“Sir?”

“Just jump along the trail every, say, ten parsecs, and make sure we can still detect it. If we can't, we've overshot it, and we know they're somewhere behind us. Then work backwards towards the trail at normal speed.”

“I see...”

“Start the jump sequence now. Ten parsecs out from here, immediately following the trail's direction.” Val'Azor withheld his previous question. There would be time to ask later.

There was another beep on the bridge as the crumbling station attempted to hail the Tikarez one more time, but before it got a response, the ship vanished in a flash.
Edited by Emperor, Jul 24 2010, 06:46 PM.
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