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[Jason Thornvaald]

Lyra scowled through the tears still flooding out of her pale eyes while she viciously disassembled and began cleaning her guns. This is why you don't become attached to people, a bitter voice inside of the woman sneered. They always betray you in the end. If you don't care, you won't be hurt.

Alone in her room, a tiny sob hitched her breath despite her furious expression. God, I actually loved him. And all the while he was playing me for a fool.

A moment later her door suddenly opened without any warning. Before it opened completely one of her scatter-guns were locked back in place, loaded and pointed steadily at the head of the intruder, her tear-stained eyes narrowed to slits. Lyra only relaxed her grip when she saw that it was Jason.

The larger man eyed her, first with curious confusion, then going very still.

"Mind telling me why you were goin' off trying to put more holes in the hull of this ship a little while ago?"

Lyra just grimaced, turning back to her guns and wiping away the wetness from her face with a determined scowl. "Doesn't matter," she bit out. "It's overwith."

"Ly, sweeting . . . I haven't seen you cry since you were sixteen years old," Jason rumbled softly, tone a mix between pained affection and worry. "Whatever it is, it matters. A lot."

Lyra continued to viciously work at her guns until Jason was suddenly kneeling beside her, his larger hands covering hers and stilling the motion, forcing her to stop. She looked down at him, and the concerned stare twisted her heart all the more.

"What's wrong, Lyra?" Her lips trembled, the angry mask that she'd been wearing falling away to reveal the utter ravaged hurt and heartache that lay beneath it.

"I thought he loved me," she whimpered, before disolving into full-blown sobs. In another moment the large woman was scooped into a hug. Lyra would never dream of showing such weakness to anyone else, but at that moment she clung to Jason's coat, burying her face in his neck and continuing to sob.

Therefore she didn't see the ice-cold expression of mounting fury on his dark-tanned face.

[Jason Thornvaald]

Jason didn't slow his powerful stride as he stepped through the doors of the gym area. Ignoring anyone else in the room, the powerful Pirate captain stepped over to where Dane Merak was currently sitting on a weight bench. Before the somewhat bedraggled man had a chance to act, Jason had kicked the weights out of his hand, and before those had a chance to hit the ground his sword was pulled and angled dangerously close to the other man's throat. His other fist slammed into the near-by wall hard enough to dent the bulkhead slightly, boxing him in.

Now that he'd come to a stop, the air surrounding them became instantly frigid. "In the interest of my ongoing career in this budding fleet," he snarled low, "I realize that it would be in my best interests not to slaughter fellow crewmates. However, be advised that I have been forced to do so on occasion. And for things a hell of a lot less infuriating than the thought of some little bastard ripping my sister's heart out of her chest because he can't keep his dick in his pants."

Jason took note of the fact that Dane wasn't flinching or cowering. That his own eyes were steady and steely, without fear. Just a touch of resigned sadness, which deepened at the thought of Lyra in distress.

"I didn't cheat on her," the other man bit out slowly. "I was visiting with an old friend. Lyra must have saw us and misunderstood."

"Lyra doesn't misunderstand much," Jason shot back. "She wouldn't have tried to shoot your head off for talking to an old girlfriend."

"She kissed me on the cheek," Dane admitted. "But that's it. I swear."

Jason eyed him for a moment longer before he straightened, lifting his sword away. The temperature warmed considerably, an the few crew around them loosened with relief now that the immenent fight was averted.

Jason resheathed his sword, expression still grim. "I believe you," he admitted. "Mostly because I don't think you're quite that dumb, or insane. However, Ly does not. So fix it. Or we'll have to finish this discussion in a far less savory manner."

[lynn]

Lynn wandered the docks ignored by most people. She appeared at first a young boy with her baggy clothing and hair shoved up in her hat.

But when one looked again it was clear she was female. She approached the ships on the dock looking at each one and chatting up any crew that was around.

As she walked down the dock area she saw out a window what she could only describe as awesomeness at it's best. She literally drooled over ship that caught her eye.

It's sheer size was one thing but the fact that it was like nothing she had ever seen before made her squeel. "New toy" was all she was thinking.

Lynn ran to the ship with all the excitement of a child being promised a present. As she neared where the ship was docked she stopped and stood mouth open as she gawked at it.

"oh man..." she mumbled as she stood there in awe of the ship. She remembered the pictures she had seen before of the old ship the military had. She continued to stare "No way...this..couldn't be the same ship"

She rubbed her eyes for a moment then stared at it. "It...It is.." she whispered before squeeling again. She pressed her face to the glass trying get a better look at the ship.

[Graham Vega]

Graham snorted a little as he stared up at the avatar in front of him, being proudly advertised by the life-sized billboards on either side of the warehouse. The posters proclaimed it to be a 'Marauder-Class' mech, though he recognized the chassis and the design from training. It was just like a Cobra-1, one of Mamba's stealthier--and deadlier--class avatars, just with a few new modifications. Of course it's manufacturer did nothing to hide this, in fact they blatantly advertised the fact that it had been reverse engineered from one of Mamba's best.

He doubted 'Empress Shaeffer' would be very pleased with that.

He shook his head slightly, then sighed and stepped forward. The Cobra-1 was a badass suit, and if they'd only improved on the model than it was likely the best he was going to get. It had been a few years since he'd last piloted an avatar, but in the interest of sounding cliche, it was a lot like riding a bike. Graham was confident that after a few hours of working out the kinks, he'd be back to full-form in no time.

'Captain Scarsgard' had sent him out with a ridiculous amount of money to buy a new toy. Presumably to make up for the fact that Graham's shuttle had been destroyed. Apparently it was docked inside the Mjollnir when it had been blown up by Captain LeValle. And apparently Jason had been feeling especially guilty as, on top of the huge amount given to him as 'Fleet Expenses' he'd also added a healthy sum on top for a bonus.

And it just so happened that he had just enough to buy one of these beauties. Graham smirked slightly to himself before striding forward.

The former Mamba started the purchasing process. After the payment cleared, the sales representatives were notably more cordial. The next step after money was exchanged was to put him through a detailed psyche evaluation in order to match him up with the best possible AI they had on file. After about an hour of the somewhat uncomfortable process--Graham had had enough psyche evaluations in Mamba, and was still leery of the unnerving process--the sales representative proudly extended the activation key to him.

As the loaders prepared to package his purchase onto a flatbed in order to move it to the ship, Graham idly punched in the appropriate code. High above him, the violet visor across the headpiece gleamed. A moment later, a small violet shape flickered, and then manifested in front of him.

The AI had taken the shape of a raccoon-girl it seemed, dressed in an overlarge long-sleeved t-shirt that extended past her hands and baggy jeans that completely covered her feet. Her long hair hung down very long to her calves, loose, further enshrouding her. And her eyes--covered in a dark mask similar to her animal counterpart--centered on him blandly.

"Greetings, Master," the AI droned in a dry, monotone voice. "I am LO-LA3445-99-8473. You may call me Lola. How may I be of service?"

"Nothing specifically at the moment, Lola. I just wanted to bring you online to make sure you're in proper working order."

"Sure, no problem. I mean, what else do I have to do other than sit here and stare at the dust collecting on my joints? It's not like I could possibly be a super-advanced artificial intelligence system designed for extreme aerial and space combat. Really, I think I would be much better suited as a five-ton paper weight. Barely out of the factory and already my Master thinks I'm defective. Well this is shaping up to be a marvelous incarnation."

Graham blinked slightly, taken aback. All of the Mamba AI's had been mostly dry and emotionless. It seemed Vero had no such compunctions. As her entire speech had been delivered in the same bland, droning tone of voice he wasn't entirely sure how to take it.

"Uh . . . you're not defective," he managed somewhat diplomatically. "I've just purchased you. You're being moved back to the ship."

The AI tilted her head slightly to the side. "What organization am I now a part of?"

Graham smirked a little. "We've just been inducted into the pirate crew of Ja--Thorn Scarsgard," he corrected himself. He had to try and remember to use Jason's alias while in public. "I've been hired on as the Weapons' Specialist for the Ragnarok."

Her expression became slightly horrified. "Do you have any idea how many casualties there are on pirate crews? 44% won't live to see their first year of service completed. That ratio becomes almost 68% by the fifth year. I hope you have life insurance, master. I have several good firms listed in my databanks, shall I pull them up for you?"

Graham winced. "Ah, no, thanks. That won't be necessary."

"Are you certain?" Lola persisted, dark eyes wide now with a preprogrammed amount of dramatic effect. "You only have a 1 in 347 chance of surviving your first six months in Captain Scarsgard's crew. I just did a scan on his crew manifest histories. It doesn't look good for the long-haul, Master."

"I'm sure I'll be fine."

Lola shrugged, looking unconvinced and placating. "Sure, whatever you say, Master. It's just cold-hard-facts and irrifutable mathematics, but of course they hold absolutely no sway over the working universe."

Graham eyed her in mild disbelief, wondering what in the hell Vero had ascertained from his psyche evaluation that they thought he'd be best paired with a sarcastic, emo, pessimistic AI.

The loaders signalled that they were ready to move and he sighed. "Alright Lola, you can power down for now."

"Are you going to erase my memory banks?" she questioned, though from her tone and expression it was hard for him to tell whether or not she was scared by that possibility or just blandly accepting. He slowly counted to ten in his head.

"No, Lola, I'm not going to erase your memory banks."

"Very well then, Master. Logging off, 13:45 United Earth Standard Time." A second later her image flickered and died.

Graham just shook his head, heading for one of the trucks to hitch a ride back to the ship. He got off again and silently oversaw the process of her being loaded up. While he did so, the former soldier noticed a slight form near-by, staring up at the ship through the glass barrier. Years of training helped him pick up the signs, though subtle. At first glance it looked to be a boy, but the shoulders were too narrow, the build too slight, bones too delicate. It was a girl, fairly young. Tufts of unruly red hair peeked out from underneath her cap, and small stains of grease and dirt marred her baggy, shapeless clothing. Not enough to appear filthy, but just enough to tip him off as to what her hobbies might be.

Graham's eyebrow lifted, eying her for a moment more. He remembered Jason mentioning their current shortage of crew. The former Mamba diliberated on whether or not it was his place to interfere in that before he decided that, as a ranking officer on the ship, it likely did fall under something he should be seeing to. With that in mind he retraced his steps a bit until he neared.

Utilizing every ounce of his infiltration training, the somber and stern-faced visage that normally held his features disappeared. Instead replaced by a small, winning smile and an easy, friendly personality. Using just enough of his natural charm to put her at ease without making her frightened.

"Hey kid," he called softly, tone companionable and non-threatening. "You lookin' for work?"

[T.K.]

Thinking quickly, T.K. pulled out his Com, and thumbed Angel's.

“I have an idea, but I'm afraid you're going to be doing most of the work.”

“What do you have in mind?”

“I need you to slip into the kitchen. Gather as much water as you can. Then, from as safe a vantage point as you can find, freeze the Hell out of that damn Android. Disable the joints and that gun. Hell, if you think you can, use ice shards, and dismember it. Just be careful of the bomb. I'll get these mooks to help lay you a cover fire.”

“I... I think I can handle that.”

“Good girl. Once you hear the gunfire start up, make your dash for the kitchen.”

“OK. Be careful T.K.”

“You too.”

He stashed the Com away again, then stared another round of prayers. He really should think about setting up a Shrine when he got back to the ship.

As quickly and quietly as he could, he informed those closest to him with weapons, that he needed help laying down some cover fire. Nothing fancy, just enough to distract the robot.

He was even surprised, when a few people actually agreed. Mostly by recognizing who he was.

Guess fame did have some positive benefits every once in a while.

[lynn]

Lynn jumped as she was pulled out of her quite worship of the ship before her. She turned to the sound of the voice that spoke.

She looked the man over once and seemed comfortable enough with what she saw. "Ya, Is this your ship?" She motioned to the ship behind the glass with her face print on it. She shifted a bit tucking her hair under her hat seeming to want to look in better shape than she was.

[Graham Vega]

Graham noted her slightly nervous fidgeting with a slight smile, though outwardly not much changed in his expression. He sighed, purposefully leaning himself against the glass on one shoulder and appearing as absolutely unthreatening as possible. He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed, one booted foot crossing over the other.

"Not my ship, no," he murmured, only a slight touch of wryness to his tone. "I've just been recently hired on to the crew of the Ragnarok, one of its sister ships." He deigned not to share exactly what position he'd been given. Most young women didn't respond well at first to such terms as special-ops soldier and weapons' expert. "That there is the Plunder's Heart. Flagship of Admiral Hart's newly formed armada."

That had been a fun piece of trivia to learn. The space-cracked pilot, Ulysses, had been the one to let that cat out of the bag earlier. On their way back to the ship, the gray-skinned mage had asked what Admiral Hart was up to, forcing Graham to stop dead in his tracks. He'd stared at Jason, who was glaring at Uly, who was looking highly confused and near to urinating on himself from nervous apprehension.

"Hart? As in Josetta Hart?" Jason had sighed rather loudly.

"Yah, and?"

"The same Josetta Hart that's bested you at everything you've done for the past ten years?" he'd continued. "The same Josetta Hart that's belittled you, beaten you and mocked you for just as long? The same--,"

"Yah, I get the point," Jason had interrupted then. Graham felt the cold eminating off of his cousin then, and absently kicked in his own internal heat to combat it. Soon small flurries of steam were dancing between the two, which Ulysses watched with widening eyes and a slack-jawed expression. "Hart offered me a deal, one that was too good to pass up. Especially as I'd just been mutinied upon, tortured and forced to watch some psycho UE officer-bitch blow up my ship and livlihood." The taller man had drawn himself up to his full height. "I told you, Hart's got a vested interest in seeing an end to this conflict. The leader of the little Mage rebellion is her daughter, Clara LeValle-Hart. And if anyone can figure out a way to bring the kid to heel--or put her down, if it comes to it--is Hart." His eyebrow had risen to imperious levels. "Is this gonna be a problem?"

Graham snorted. "I already agreed to work for you. Working for Josetta Hart won't be much more of a step down on the social ladder." He shook his head slightly. "I was just concerned for you, is all. I mean . . . what would Uncle Helm think?"

Jason's face had turned bland at that. "Go to hell."

Back in the present, Graham continued to look unproturbed. "Captain Josetta Hart is of a mind to turn one crew into three, and that means a need for more personel. I couldn't help but notice the intrest in the ship. And something tells me you might be of a mechanical slant. If you got any skills, I might be able to get you seen by the powers that be. If you're interested, that is. Granted, piracy isn't the best life." He sighed. "But you make do with the cards that are handed to you, I guess."

[lynn]

Lynn frowned at first seeming horribly disappointed that the ship she had made up in her mind was the most amazing thing ever to be seen was not his ship. She also wasn't ashamed to let the sheer disappointment show on her face.

After he explained the situation she seemed to cheer up a bit and laughed at the comment on piracy. "it's all piracy. Just some of it's considered legal." She grinned a bit and shifted her stance as she tried to look more business like

"I am a mechanic that's for sure. And I am very close to the best. Anything I don't know it don't take me long to figure out. So you think this Captain Hart might give me a job?" Lynn turned to look at the ship again. "On that ship?" Lynn wasn't ashamed to let her singular want for the ship to show.

[Shiyounin]

Shiyou kept an eye on the Malfunctioning scrap pile, while Angel turned on every faucet she could find in the kitchen, gathering all the water up into a large sphere.

Once she felt herself starting to strain from the amount of water, she stopped collecting it, and moved over toward the serving window, grateful that there was at least some cover fire still going on outside.

She peeked over the edge and took aim on her target. As soon as she felt she was ready, she 'threw' the giant sphere of water at the Android, slightly amused as it tried to figure out what was going on.

Not waiting for it to catch on, she focused again and forced all the water to cool, solidifying into ice. She forced it as deep into the Android's joints as she could, making sure to jam up the remaining gun as well.

“Go T.K., I won't be able to hold her forever!”

“This won't take long. Shiyou, deal with the Psycho bitch, I'll handle the bomb.”

“Yes sir!”

Shiyou zoomed over toward the Android at the same time T.K. and a few volunteers tackled it to the ground.

She shrank, and solidified herself, just enough to grasp the laser cutter T.K. handed her.

“Oh Eve, I do hope this hurts.”

She started scanning the interior of the copy, looking for vulnerable wires to cut and keep the damn thing from doing more than wildly flail every few seconds in a desperate attempt to get rid of T.K.

T.K. himself, was frantically alternating between staying out of reach of the Android's flailing limbs, and touching the Bomb, to ascertain how to disable it.

By the time he managed a clear reading, and Shiyou had damaged the internals enough that he could work properly, more or less, he had less than a minute to diffuse the damn thing.

“I'm really starting to hate Androids. You're sister excluded of course.”

He pulled out wire cutters, and began carefully cutting, while avoiding the Android's death throws. Some of the cut wires he twisted together with others, and some he just ripped out completely. Bits and pieces of the bomb and the Android were being dumped in a small pile nearby so he could get to other wires. Finally, he cut the last wire and sighed with relief. Three whole seconds were left.

He looked down at the Android as it tried it's best to scowl at him, with only half it's face still functional.

“Sorry Eve, but once again, a mere human beat you. Better luck next time.”

He shooed Shiyou away, then unloaded the rest of his ammo clip into the interior of the Android, feeling satisfied when it gave one last convulsion before going slack.

“Well, that was a fun afternoon.”

He reached down, and picked up the bomb, carefully pocketing it.

“Feel free to help yourselves to the scrap.”

He headed back toward the kitchen, where a tired Angel was grinning at him, and a stunned Donni stood staring at the remains of his restaurant.

“Sorry about the mess. Seeing as she was trying to kill me.” He handed the owner a credit chip. “Take whatever you need from one of my personal accounts to get this place back up and running. I'd hate to loose the best place in the Cove for Italian.”

Donni started at the credit chip, still stunned from the horror that had wrecked his place over the last twelve minutes. T.K. looked around, before walking over and picking up Angel's jacket.

“OK kiddies, I think it's time we head home. Before Eve decides to play another game.”

[Graham Vega]

Graham smirked a little more, pushing himself off of the glass and then motioning with his head.

"Well, I can't garauntee you anything, but I can point you in the right direction. Follow me, let's see if we can find someone in charge."

He started leading the way toward the ships then, to finish overseeing Lola's boarding and to hopefully find the little sprite behind him some confirmation or denial on her pending hire.

[lynn]

Lynn almost jumped with joy as she followed the man skipping a bit as she did. "So what can you tell me about that ship? It's amazing. Is it that alien ship from like forever ago? It looks a lot like the pictures I have seen." She rattled off cheerfully as she followed humming with excitement.

"What's the captain like? What's your job? Whats your name for that matter?" Lynn let the questions just flow from her in which some might find an annoying manner.

[Graham Vega]

Graham smiled slightly as he led the girl. Young, excitable and over-eager. Luckily she was trying out for an engineering position. Those traits were nice in a mechanic, not so much in a soldier.

"I don't know much about the ship myself, sorry. I just hired on yesterday. Same thing goes for the Admiral as I haven't met her, though I can tell you what I do know. For all of her nefarious and larcenous ways, Josetta Hart is quite possibly one of the most brilliant strategists that have ever flown the stars," he announced, tone soft with honesty. Then he glanced back at the girl, tone lightening. "As for my captain--Scarsgard--he's a big, loud, insufferable jerk." At her strange look, his slight smile widened just a fraction. "Don't worry, he's also my first cousin. Gives me certain allowances I suppose. And my name is Vega. Graham Vega." He cleared his throat a little. "I, ah . . . I'm what they call a Weapon's Specialist. Head of the boarding crews, senior officer in charge of the fighters and the weapons on board."

They approached the ramp, and Graham turned to the surprisingly young--and extremely beautiful--girl currently alighting it. The blond gave him a glance, and Graham immediately picked up on the markers. While outwardly at ease, inwardly she was tense. Whether it was because of her surroundings or something else he couldn't tell, but the way she was gripping the rapier on her hip told him it was still very fresh in her mind.

"Ah, excuse me," he called. "I need to find a First Mate or a Captain of these ships."

Her golden eybrow lifted. "And who would you be?"

"Graham Vega, Scarsgard's cousin. He hired me onto the crew yesterday." The girl nodded at that, apparently she'd heard of him before. Graham watched her silver irises swirl in on themselves for a moment, then a slight--almost sneering--smirk ghosted across her lips. "You'll find Mr. Halcyon on the bridge, with the Admiral."

Graham murmured his thanks, then stepped aside so the girl could walk past him and disappear down the ramp. "Who was that?" the girl behind him asked, and he sighed.

"Dunno. But whoever she is, she's pissed-off as hell at the Dervish."

[T.K.]

Since their plans for a late lunch were wrecked, and T.K. had a feeling that Angel would be ravenous soon, on top of being exhausted, they made a quick detour through the market on the way back to the ship.

Satisfied with his purchase, T.K. lead them back to the ship, doing his best not to give away how paranoid he actually was at the moment. He didn't relax until they were safely on board the ship.

As they made their way through the halls, T.K. spotted an unusually melancholy Dane.

“Dane, just the man I wanted. I picked up a present for you. That Psychotic Android Eve must have thought I liked it or something. Enjoy.”

He plopped the Conversion Bomb into his hands, before continuing on through the ship. He headed for his quarters, gently shoving Angel ahead of him.

“Go take a nap on my bunk. I'll wake you up when dinner's ready.”

“Wah? Wait, your bunk, dinner?”

“Lunch did get interrupted. Besides, why do you think I bought this stuff for?”

He waved the bag at her, before pointing her toward his bedroom.

“Go get a little sleep. After what you did back at Detolli's, you're practically dead on your feet.”

As she paused, still unsure, he glared at her.

“If I have to tell you again, I will pick you up myself, and dump you on the bed.”

At her wide-eyed stare, he smirked.

“Course, you might just like that a little too much.”

He actually got a chuckle out of that one, and she obediently headed for the offered bed this time.

As soon as she was out of the room, T.K. turned to Shiyou.

"Now, can you get over to her quarters, and pick out some clothes for her? I really don't think she wants the rest of the crew catching her in that outfit."

Shiyou glared at him for a moment, before she zipped out into the hall, muttering to herself about being treated like a common servant.

T.K. chuckled to himself, before stepping over to his little kitchen, and dumping out his groceries on the counter.

“Now, if I can just remember how to cook this...”

[lynn]

Lynn watched the girl go and frowned a bit "Well it must be nice to work with your family grumpy or not!" She smiled at Graham

"I am Lynn by the way. Your job sounds interesting but I am glad it's not me. I am not the best with what most consider normal weapons and I am not fond of killing. I know it's needed and all that but everyone has their place and I prefer mine to be making stuff work and not killing. Not that I am a coward mind you I will do it if needed just not my preferred job placement if you get my meaning."

Lynn looked around as they walked taking it all in seeming to grow more excited. She took her hat off for a moment ran her fingers through her hair before twisting it up and stuffing it back under her hat. She smoothed out her clothing again fidgeting in her nervous excitement.

[Cassiopeia Reyes-Hart]

Cassi viciously told the tiny voice in the back of her head that was telling her she was being stubborn and foolish--which sounded suspiciously like her older sister--to be quiet. Instead she continued marching off through the Cove, chin lifted to undeniably stubborn angles.

He's probably gonna have you thrown in the brig for this.

Good, another part of her answered spitefully. Maybe then he'll actually acknowledge my presence.

Besides, the nerve! The gall to threaten to throw her in lock like an errant five year old if she didn't do as he said! Which was a ridiculous, over-bearing, overreactive order in an of itself. Cassi near-stomped down the streets, ignoring the various stares or catcalls she garnered along the way, becoming somewhat immune to them by now.

After a little while, her angry gait slowed until she finally stopped. The girl turned and leaned back against an older building, hunching slightly and putting her face in her hands. "God, what am I doing?" she mumbled to no one, tone pained.

She didn't have any good reason to be off the ship, other than to thumb her nose at the fact that Morgan ordered her not to do it. She was proving him right. Acting like a spoiled kid. Though, maybe if he treated her like an adult instead of a naughty child she might be inspired to different behavior. Her hands slid down from her face and she stared at the ground for a moment before her palms pressed against her still-flat belly.

"What am I gonna do now?"

Cassi absently activated her power as she stood feeling sorry for herself, and peeked a few minutes into the future--as had become a habit while she was fighting in the war. Her body stiffened at what she saw however. The small forewarning helped her suddenly dive to the side, and the concrete behind her fractured from the projectile instead of her neck.

The slender blond rolled back to her feet, her sword pulling from its sheath with a faint screech. Eyes narrowed, Cassi evaluated the four very large men suddenly surrounding her on all sides. She widened her stance, sword held in front of her. Two of them were apparently unnarmed, one held a large--suspiciously stained--wooden club. And the third held a very expensive tranquillizer gun.

Her lip curled slightly as she recognized the one with the gun and the club. "Didn't you morons get the hint months ago? I told you, I don't want anything to do with your Captain. And you're still going about this all wrong. Dinner and a movie first. Maybe some flowers. Tranq'ing me isn't going to put me in a more cooperative frame of mind. It's just going to tick me off whenever I wake up."

Apparently they were past the talking stage. All four attacked her at once, and Cassi went into a flurry of motion. Before, she might have been afraid. She'd spent too many months on the front line of a war, however. The fear and the doubt and the uncertainty got shoved aside in favor of fighting instinct and sheer determination.

The agile dancer ran forward and leapt off of a near-by barrel, backflipping to avoid the second shot from that rifle. The two unarmed men tried to rush her and grab her then. Cassi nimbly twisted out of the way, and both were treated to shallow--but highly painful--wounds to the back and midsection as punishment.

"Last warning, peabrains," she snapped. "Back off or I start cutting things off."

Cassi twisted impossibly out of the way again. Unfortunately the one with the club moved in a way that her previous glimpse did not anticipate. He managed to catch her in the back of the knee, forcing her to go down. To stop long enough for the other one to get a bead on her.

Cassi let out a loud yelp, half in pain half in protest, as the dart shot into her thigh. She reached down to yank it out, trying to get to her feet, but already her limbs refused to cooperate. She could barely do more than groan in protest when one of the four kicked her sword out of her hand, then grabbed her roughly and threw her over his shoulder.

As the world started going black, Cassi could only shudder in apprehension and doubt.

Why was it whenver she stepped foot off the ship, something always had to go wrong?