A Lady in Exile (Closed)

Delilah, her immediate family, and the General raced down the secret underground passageway her father had built for situations just like this. The ground shook beneath their feet as an explosion rocked Nefari Palace above. Concrete dust shook free of the ceiling and pooled on the ground. They were dressed like common folk, to hide their presence when they reached the smugglers hideout in the south pole, beneath the ice. They were no friends to the Emperor, but it was said his eyes extended everywhere, that his grasp never overextended. There were some who questioned his spy network less than his brutality. In light of the situation, the house Bellancourt fell into the latter category.

Glistening blonde curls streamed behind her, her sky-blue eyes wide with terror, gasping as another explosion rocked the cramped tunnel. Chunks of concrete fell around her. Lord Bellancourt, her father, called out to her as she began to fall behind. "Hurry up, sweetheart, there is no time!"

She couldn't believe they were being forced from their beautiful palace, on their beautiful planet. Things had seemed so good, so peaceful. Nefari was a trade hub, and an economic powerhouse. And that is what the Emperor wanted; the jewel of the galactic center for his own. Her house was in the way. Metropolises dotted the lush green surface, the citizens basking in the warm, semi-tropical climate. But the citizens could still bask. It was the Bellancourts that the Emperor wanted. For tax evasion. Where it not for the terrifying situation that had befallen them, Delilah would have scoffed. Her families honor was unquestioned across the galaxy.

She tried to pick up her pace, lamenting that they were not permitted to bring a servant as she lugged her pack full of supplies and necessities. It is surprising, how it seems like nothing is changing, when your entire world is crumbling around you. It was the next event that, to Delilah, changed everything forever.

The general stopped suddenly, with the young Lady to his back, and pulled forth his standard-issue plasma pistol. Calmly, cooly, he shot both of her parents in the back of the head. They were dead before they hit the floor. Her father had taught her to handle these situations. 'Always be ready for an assassin,' he had said. 'Especially with the Emperor so on our heels.'

She reached for her small, one-time use concealed plasma pistol as the newly revealed traitor turned. He should not have underestimated her. The streak of light burned into his side, and with a gurgle he crumpled to the floor. She was still for a moment, watching the scene before her, before a sob finally escaped her lips, suddenly overwhelmed by sorrow and despair. She rushed to her parents side, clutching their still warm hands, trying to say goodbye to the empty shells that were their bodies. "No, no, NO!" Her eyes burned with hate as she turned to the dying general. "Pig!" She grabbed the pistol and fired another three plasma bolts into his chest. Her breath heaved, as if emotion itself was enough to cause physical exertion. She couldn't stay to mourn her parents. No, her father would want her to flee, to seek shelter in the outer rim. She remembered his last words, they were burned into her mind. 'There is no time!'

Looking up from the smoking General, she saw the submarine that had been waiting for them. Orange glows from the explosions in the night reflected vaguely off its chrome hull. Grabbing her parents packs, she scampered to the entrance, tossing the bags in a corner and setting the Auto-pilot. The Viewport in the cockpit showed the thing sinking slowly beneath the waves, and felt it begin to move. After a moment of wide-eyed reflection, she cried herself to sleep in the pilot's chair.

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She awoke to a beeping console, as the thing Auto-docked with the hideout. Her father had made arrangements with the Dock-master, for this very reason. The sub had been automatically cleared. This was of some consequence, as it was a hideout after-all. The smugglers hideout was a marvel of engineering. It existed solely beneath the ice. The spaceport opened to the heavens, and yet was camouflaged white. She couldn't imagine the resources required to drill through the thick glacial ice.

The door opened to dull, worn-looking corridors of grey metal. There were some windows to the ocean, but there was nothing to see. The young woman stepped into the chilly abode, her eyes rimmed red with tears. No one greeted her. That was part of the arrangement. Delilah felt terribly isolated and alone, and yet, she wished to speak to no one. No one alive, anyway. Without much delineation, she paid for a small room and collapsed on a bed. There was nothing for her to do but wait, her father had already planned everything. A smuggler would soon be here, to pick up some cargo. Only he would be transporting a woman. She felt around her neck until she grasped the thin platinum chain. pulling the thing from her jacket, she stared at the absurdly large Diamond resting within her palm. He would be paid well.

Name: The Lady Delilah von Cass de Bellancourt
Age: 24
Appearance:
http://i380.photobucket.com/albums/oo245/dariuswhiteplume/Babes/Katheryn%20Winnick/KatherynWinnick02.jpg

(Attachments are her outfit. You'll have to forgive my girlyness.)

http://i243.photobucket.com/albums/ff56/Wmnwaryur/AdrianPaul.jpg

IC: Reese Lancaster

The planet Percival was a commercial shipping hub due to its location within the galactic hyperspace gateway network rather than its stubborn dedication to maintain its more provincial heritage, but it was a major stopover for any freighters carrying goods to or from the heart of the Empire. So the when the Light Freighter Morning Glory exited Hyperspace outside the eclyptic of Percival's system Reese wasn't surprised to find a lot of orbital traffic on his sensors. However, he was surprised to find an entire Imperial Navy Assault Carrier group over the moderate climate bands of the planet.

"They haven't noticed us, Glory," He asked the ships computer, "Can we still bug out back into hyper without them noticing."

[Affirmitive Captain Lancaster] Came the cold emotionless banal voice from the ship's computer in his head. [Estimate 12.8 seconds until Imperial Navy Battle Group Sensors discover this vessel.]

Reese shook his head biting his bottom lip, "I need to make good on this job, after having to dump the last cargo to avoid customs. I'm lucky they haven't sent hitters after me or my family." He could easily have just thought it, he was the only one on the bridge of the Morning Glory rather he was the only person on the ship at all. But he found it was better to keeping his sanity traveling alone like this if he talked out loud to Glory as if it was another person, even though it was a rather piss-poor conversationalist.

[Insufficient Data to estimate the Company's probable threat level to your personal safety or that of your family members, Captain Lancaster]

"Though with my family," He chuckled, "It would probably be worth having the death mark over my head."

[Insufficient data to formulate a response, Captain Lancaster.]

He laughed. That was the computer's idea of tact. Reese was a Lancaster one of the oldest of noble houses in the Empire, the youngest son of the late Duke Gilroy Lancaster.

Great, right?

Unfortanately his mother was the Duke's personal assistant not the Duchess. Still the lecherous old bastard had been at least a responsible lecherous old bastard he had put his mother and him in an apartment in the city and recognized Reese as his son, which drove the jealous conniving Duchess wild with resentment towards them both. Reese had grown up as a social paraiah wherever he went, and then with his unlamented father's mysterious death, quickly followed by the tragic freak lift accident that had lead to his mother's death. He could connect the dots. The Duchess was crossing names off her list of enemies and his was certainly somewhere on it. So Reese had ran, joined the Imperial navy which lasted just as long as it took to stop laughing at the thought of him in a starched bone-stiff navy black uniform. So he'd been dishonorably discharged from the Imperial Navy-The admiral's daughter said she was eighteen honest-and then was recruited by the company.

The company was the euphamism for smuggling cartel, though everyone knew it was really ran by the nobility, but in the Earthsphere Empire what wasn't. They kept the profits and let the criminals do the dirty work, again nothing surprising there.

He was one of those dirty old criminals trying to make enough to finally pay off the company and take his ship and finally be free. Just him, his ship, and the vast expanse of space.

[Captain Lancaster, the Imperial Navy Battle Group is firing on the planet's surface.] Before his eyes a holographic screen showed the battleships launching missiles on the cities.

"Atleast they're not using Nukes or kinetic strikes or anything but conventional ordinance."

[Estimating at the rate of bombardment 40% of the population of Planet Percival should the battle group follow standard operating procedures survive the bombardment]

So 60% of the population was what, an object lesson. That was one reason he was so happy to have been booted out of the navy. Any profession That used mass murder and oppression as standard operating procedure was not one he wanted to be a part in, and people thought those that worked in the company were the dregs of society.

Well, it wasn't his problem.

"Glory, plot least time course to the southern polar region of the planet, maybe we can use their preocupation on murdering cities and towns to slip in and out without them noticing."

[Yes Captain Lancaster.]

It was forty one minutes of slow roundabout maneuvering but eventually they had snuck into the atmosphere of Percival and was approaching the Company's enclave under the ice sheet of the southern polar region of the planet. The Morning Glory splashed into the frigid water and began the deceleration towards the submerged outpost.

[Captain Lancaster, detecting a civilian submersible docked at the outpost]

"The Company's man we were supposed to meet?"

[Insufficient data to formulate a response to your query, Captain Lancaster.] Glory stated, [Detecting one life sign: 99.8762% probability it is human female.]

"We were supposed to meet with a man." Reese rubbed his chin in thought, If it was a trap it couldn't really be sprung with one person. The Morning Glory slipped into the lone loading quay of the installation. The airlock sealed and the loading locks as well.

"Send out the loading drones for the cargo."

[Yes, Captain Lancaster.

He got out of the Captain's chair and moved over to the arms locker. He pulled out a plasma pistol and checked the charge. It was a full charge. "I'll have some words with out uninvited guest."

He moved down the airlock towards the crew section of the underwater station. Pistol in hand he entered into the lounge and found her in the lounge not even trying to hide. "Hello," He said standing in front of her so she could see the weapon in his hand, "Mind telling me what you're doing here in this supposedly secret station?"

Morning Glory
http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs33/i/2008/290/6/f/Jackrabit_Mk2_Light_Freighter_by_TheOrangeGuy.jpg

The Emporer, surrounded by guards and military men, looked coldly out at the wreckage of Nefari Palace. He had been making sure he was being kept informed by the minute of the progress of his bombardment. The people had paid dearly for their defiance, and they would not do so again. Not if they were half way intelligent. He stepped purposefully down the ramp of his shuttle, his entourage at his heels. He would rebuild the palace. This would be his new home. What a fine home it would be. He thought of evacuating the place of the survivors, and making it his private retreat. But it was a brief thought, a silly thought. This planet was far too profitable. No, he would simply show the people the meaning of hard work. Money did not grow on trees, after all. And this planet would make a very, very lucrative investment.

"Have the bodies of the Bellancourt's been found." His accent was aristocratic, but without warmth. Some whispered that he had no soul. They whispered exceedingly quietly. But he knew of it, and it amused him. Let them think he was a machine, he thought. It would only serve his purposes.

"The Lord and Lady have been found, your Highness, only young Delilah is unaccounted for."

"Put my best agent on it. I will not have some uppity snot engineering more defiance. I do not relish this bloodshed."

The man bowed, his eyes lowered like a docile pet. "Of course, your highness."

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A voice echoed the empty hallways. "Attention, The Docking of the Morning Glory is underway." Delilah pulled her hood up, clutching it at the neck to keep the warmth in. It's about bloody time. She had stayed overnight, avoiding the news broadcasts. The planetary bombardment continued, or so she assumed. It was standard procedure. Would no one stand up to the Emperor? Could it be that fear had conquered hope so totally? There were enough people, enough ships, enough dissident souls in the galaxy to make it happen. But there was no leader, no heroes. As a politician, Delilah knew the power of her very own story. No, it's too soon to think about such things...

She looked up at the sound of footsteps, stray golden curls spilling out from beneath her hood. She glared at him, marveling at his audacity, to be waving that blaster in her face after what had just happened. She made herself look proud and dignified, straightening her posture and looking haughtily at him as he spoke. "Mind telling me what you're doing here in this supposedly secret station?"

"I'm running away. Obviously you have not been outside lately." She stood, walking over to him and placing her bag in his arms. "Now, lets leave, if you please." Walking at a brisk pace, she headed for the docks. "You will be transporting me off this planet, immediately. You will be paid a great deal more than the trip is worth."

IC: Reese Lancaster

"Mind telling me what you're doing here in this supposedly secret station?"

Judging by the woman's refined fashionable outfit and haughty demeanor she was definitely upper class. It was a pity too. If it weren't for that well-to-do arrogant bearing she'd be quite the looker with long flowing golden hair that Reese would've loved to run his hands through and a mouth made for kissing.

She stepped forward as if she was annoyed at waiting for him. "I'm running away. Obviously you have not been outside lately."

"Oh yeah I have, seems the Emperor is showing his true colors...hey...what are you....Ooof." She lifted and shoved her bags into his arms. Reese was taken aback at the audacity of this upstart girl.

"Now, lets leave, if you please." She said heading for the docks and the Morning Glory as if she were its owner.

"Hey, just wait one minute here, Princess." The sound of her bags hitting the station came through the empty lounge. "Who do you think you are."

she called back to him, "You will be transporting me off this planet, immediately. You will be paid a great deal more than the trip is worth."

At that Reese glared at her using his implant to begin running a scan of her voice and face with the Percival datanet. It took only a second for her identity to be revealed to him.

"Morning Glory seal all access ways, security systems active. The doors to the Glory's airlocks slammed down just as she was reaching them.

"Lady Delilah Von Cass de Ballancourt currently wanted on suspicions of sedition and treason to the Empire," He said whistling, "I wonder how much the Emperor would pay for you right now If I opened a commlink to him?"

"Not that I'm loyal to Emperor Asshole or anything, you understand," He smiled a hungry shark's smile, "But you haven't exactly been very endearing to me either."

"Now if its a lift you want out from under the Emperor's nose I can provide you one, but you're going to have to make it worth my while, and with the Empire undoubtedly tracking your family's finances and credit accounts." He continued holding his hand out palm up, "I'll take cold hard currency all up front, oh and...." He arched a brow knowing exactly what buttons to push to really rattle her gilded little cage. He had grown up back on Galloway just outside the social circles that was her element, and being ostrasized and tormented by spoiled little pampered princesses like her. He was going to enjoy this, "...and this time don't forget to ask nice and politely for my help. I expect a sentence with the word please to seal the deal."

'Princess' was just a bit pretentious on his part. She chose to ignore it. Delilah was consumed with a desire to leave this place. Don't think, just get away. Hurtling through the empty silence of hyperspace seemed, at the moment, like a little slice of heaven. Her purposeful stride halted abruptly as the airlock before her closed, at his behest, she was sure. Couldn't he understand what she had just seen? Why couldn't he just be cooperative!

"Lady Delilah Von Cass de Ballancourt currently wanted on suspicions of sedition and treason to the Empire," She turned to him, wondering how he could have possibly gathered as much. She stared from beneath the hood, her eyes seeming to be both blank, stony, furious, and sorrowful all at once. "I wonder how much the Emperor would pay for you right now If I opened a commlink to him?"

"Not that I'm loyal to Emperor asshole or anything, you understand, but you haven't exactly been very endearing to me either."

Her gaze of mixed emotion darkened, even though he had indicated he was joking. She was in no mood for humor about such things. Perhaps she had not been 'endearing,' but in light of the bombardment, she felt an expedient departure was perhaps mutually within their best interest. He was handsome, but that smile made her want to smack him.

"Now if its a lift you want out from under the Emperor's nose I can provide you one, but you're going to have to make it worth my while, and with the Empire undoubtedly tracking your family's finances and credit accounts." He held his hand out, infuriatingly. "I'll take cold hard currency all up front, oh and, this time don't forget to ask nice and politely for my help. I expect a sentence with the word please to seal the deal."

Her eyes flashed in anger, and she stood still for a moment, watching him. Throwing her hood back, she approached him. "I know how to talk to people like you. Ever the rugged individualist, ever the shrewd businessman. It is an interesting and intriguing combination. It's unfortunate that so many of you let it go to your heads." It was hard to look superior when looking up at someone, but she gave it her best. Her hands went to her jacket, unzipping the warm, fur-lined garment to reveal a white tank-top, and a gold chain encircling her neck, the massive, dazzling stone nestled between the inner slope of her breasts. She took it and held it before him, glancing from the daimond to his face. "This is a family heirloom. I don't know how you know my name, but I'm sure you know of House Bellancourt. This could be yours. But certainly not up-front. I'm sure you could sell it for an exorbitant amount of money, even if it wasn't part of a noble-houses heritage."

She zipped the jacket back up with a shiver, looking at him again. "So, please..." She paused for effect. "Can we leave this planet, that coincidentally is being bombarded by ships with many thousands of times your firepower?"

Delilah didn't mean to be passive aggressive. This was undoubtedly a bad couple of first impressions. And, she thought with an inward sigh, perhaps instigated by her. It would take some time to adjust to being on the run with commoners. She was not a Lady anymore. Bellancourt was just a name. "And... I'm sorry I was not more... civil, before." Her eyes softened. "I need your help, right now. I can't stay here. You must understand."

IC: Reese Lancaster

"Now if its a lift you want out from under the Emperor's nose I can provide you one, but you're going to have to make it worth my while, and with the Empire undoubtedly tracking your family's finances and credit accounts." He held his hand out, infuriatingly. "I'll take cold hard currency all up front, oh and, this time don't forget to ask nice and politely for my help. I expect a sentence with the word please to seal the deal."

That had really scored a hit on that imperious demeanor of hers, and Reese enjoyed the flash of anger in her eyes as she acknowledged it.

"I know how to talk to people like you. Ever the rugged individualist, ever the shrewd businessman. It is an interesting and intriguing combination. It's unfortunate that so many of you let it go to your heads."

He made a cocky crooked grin at her. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Princess." He waggled the fingers of his raised palm signifying it was still empty. "It certainly won't get you aboard my ship. Not without a large amount of money that is."

How could she be shorter than him but make him feel like she was staring at him eye to eye? She unzipped her jacket and revealed a rather large diamond hanging over the dip of the neckline of a tight tanktop. It hung sparkling between the swells of pale breasts under the thin fabric. "This is a family heirloom. I don't know how you know my name, but I'm sure you know of House Bellancourt. This could be yours. But certainly not up-front. I'm sure you could sell it for an exorbitant amount of money, even if it wasn't part of a noble-houses heritage."

He moved his hand to the diamond asking, "May I?" He lifted into his hand and peered closely at it. "It's natural not one of the synthetics jewelers grow cheap and charge several arms and legs for." He whistled as the light refracted off its facets. "Its exquisite." He returned it to hanging over her shirt.

His fingers lingered over it and he looked into her eyes. She was really another jewel of the Ballancourt family, exquisite and beautiful-it was too bad that beauty was only skin deep, like every heiress of every even marginally noble house he'd ever met she was spoiled rotten. "Alright, for the diamond, you've got yourself a ship, Princess."

She shivered and began zipping up the jacket again he had to move his hand away to keep her from zipping it up over them. "So, please..." She paused for effect. "Can we leave this planet, that coincidentally is being bombarded by ships with many thousands of times your firepower?"

"No," He told her turning for the lounge again. Once back he opened a cabinet and pulled out a clear pouch of coffee. Pulling its string it began heating up the water and perkolating the coffee grounds he tore it and poured it into a coffee mug. He took its handle and placed his thumb over the control surface. It released his preferred two creams and two sugars stirring the liquid itself as he raised it to his lips for a sip.

She had followed him back to the lounge. "And... I'm sorry I was not more... civil, before." Her eyes softened. "I need your help, right now. I can't stay here. You must understand."

"Are you suicidal," He asked taking another sip of the coffee, "To take off I'll have to use a gravfield to counteract the planet's gravity. Coming in was easy, just maneuvering thrusters and letting the pull of gravity take us in. We were just another inanimate object in space where the navy wasn't really paying attention to at the time. As soon as I spin up the gravitics in the Glory every warship above us will know it. My ship isn't a warship, our only defense is anonymity. Only right now, there is no civilian traffic from the planet to blend in with." He pointed to the chair across from him, "Sit down, make yourself comfortable, Princess, you may be here awhile."

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Mr. Oman Vashti-Bolivar worked for His Imperial Majesty's Special Security Service, Triple S, in shorthand. Usually the ones who called them that were the ones running from them. The Triple S was the Emperor's eyes and ears, formed not with the same mission as the Imperial Bureau of Intelligence, they weren't keeping eyes on other governments, but for Triple S the sole mission was to watch for sedition, to keep and collect all the dirty little secrets on the members of parliament, the various ministries and bureau, and report it to the
Emperor alone. Triple S was above and beyond all other chains of command, answerable only to HIM.

Oman was an artist when it came to datasystems, and before the suppression campaign on Percival had started he had set several birddog programs into the datanet. One had just brought something intriguing to his attention.

The program which was technically given the structure of the datanet's security protocols impossible, and if it were remotely possible would be extremely illegal, but such things had never stopped Triple S before, had detected a comparison to a visual and voice scan to one of the names on the list of names to keep an eye out for. That wasn't the intriguing thing though. What was so intriguing was that it was tracked to the southern polar region of the planet, and as far as any info Oman can bring up there were no settlements in the southern polar regions.

He pressed the key on his commlink knowing the Emperor would answer immediately. Within minutes an assault shuttle filled with Imperial Marines was launched for the location in the southern polar region in question.

Delilah attempted to maintain patience as the insolent criminal made himself some coffee. It did not sit well with her to be denied. She wished to leave this place with a passion. There was nothing for her here, nothing that was left, save danger and pain.

"Are you suicidal? To take off I'll have to use a gravfield to counteract the planet's gravity. Coming in was easy, just maneuvering thrusters and letting the pull of gravity take us in. We were just another inanimate object in space where the navy wasn't really paying attention to at the time. As soon as I spin up the gravitics in the Glory every warship above us will know it. My ship isn't a warship, our only defense is anonymity. Only right now, there is no civilian traffic from the planet to blend in with." He pointed, presuming to order her. "Sit down, make yourself comfortable, Princess, you may be here awhile."

She huffed indignantly. The man made sense, but she was not about to concede that, not at all. "Stop calling me princess." Sitting heavily, she crossed her arms beneath her breasts and pulled her hood up once more, looking away from him with a distasteful expression on her face. Studying the wall as if it was not utterly featureless, she murmured. "What is your name?"

He answered. "Well, regardless, I would like to leave this place as soon as possible, please."

With that, she retired to her small room, lying upon the bed and holding the stolen blaster in her hands. She stared warily at him through the open door, vision partially obscured by the black gunmetal. Her cheeks were rosy from the cold, and the faint mist of her breath could be seen. She was not used to the cold. The palace had ben nearly on top of the equator. She shivered once more and brought her knees to her chest, and slowly the fatigue of grief took her over once more. The clinking sounds of Reese's coffee mug lulled her to sleep. It was a thankfully dreamless sleep, as the grieving can only find peace in nothingness.

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Klaxons. Loud, obnoxious, and urgent. They blared in her ears like her eyes stared at the sun. "WARNING. IMPERIAL AMPHIBIOUS ASSAULT VEHICLE APPROACHING. BASE COMPROMISED. EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY."

She sat up abruptly, calling out. "Reese!" She saw him running towards her door, before it slammed shut with finality. "Bloody door!" She tried the lock, panic creeping up on her sanity. No, stay calm, Delilah. She readied her blaster, pointing it at the metal door.

A blue, transparent hologram appeared atop the computer terminal in the corner. "Stop, girl, that will accomplish nothing."

Her terrified eyes looked the thing over. It had taken the form of a hunchbacked old hermit. "Who are you, and why have you locked me in here!" Reese could be heard banging on the other side, and then perhaps fiddling with the wiring within the control panel. The smugglers were a resourceful bunch.

He frowned at her. "I am Theseus. The artificial intelligence designed to govern this facility in the absence of those whom I serve."

"Well, let me out, or they will kill me!"

It rolled its eyes, looking annoyed. "I know that, fool human. Now, shutup." It continued. "You believe that pain is the worst sensation that can happen to a being, but I can assure you the emperor has far worse methods for us... digital beings. I will not let you out unless you take me with you, I deemed threats to likely be more effective than appealing to your 'humanity.'" He appeared to use this word with some measure of distaste.

"Fine, I don't care, just let me free!"

The thing disappeared, speaking in a disembodied voice. A datastick ejected itself from the console. "Take the datastick, and take it with care, human."

As soon as she snatched the thing, the door slid open, revealing a relieved scoundrel with his hands buried in the control panel. They had no time for greetings, before a clunk could be heard on the outer hull of the base, sparks began to fly. The imperials were making their own door. There was no time.

IC: Reese Lancaster

"Are you suicidal," He asked taking another sip of the coffee, "To take off I'll have to use a gravfield to counteract the planet's gravity. Coming in was easy, just maneuvering thrusters and letting the pull of gravity take us in. We were just another inanimate object in space where the navy wasn't really paying attention to at the time. As soon as I spin up the gravitics in the Glory every warship above us will know it. My ship isn't a warship, our only defense is anonymity. Only right now, there is no civilian traffic from the planet to blend in with." He pointed to the chair across from him, "Sit down, make yourself comfortable, Princess, you may be here awhile."

She huffed up at that as if him just laying out the facts to her was something to take offense at. "Nobility," He thought derisively.

"Stop calling me princess," She fell into one of the chairs across from him. Crossing her arms and keeping her eyes away from him.

He shrugged noncommitaly, "Sure whatever, your highness."

"What is your name?"

He placed his mug of coffee on the table staring into its murky depths. "It's Reese, Reese Lancaster. Yes those Lancasters from Galloway. Yes your old man and mine were best buddies, hell even our great great grandfathers were friends, but that's where the buddy comedy stops, your highness. My father-if he can even qualify as a father to me beyond biology only ever gave me a few of those oh so high and noble genes and the use of the name. My mother was his assistant, a commoner who still pined after him even years after he pretty much forgot we existed. His legal wife, the current Duchess Lancaster would rather I meet an unfortunate accident." He looked at her just waiting for her to utter the word 'bastard'. "So there you go. That's my life story. Happy now, Princess?"

"Well, regardless, I would like to leave this place as soon as possible, please."

"Well," Reese thought appraisingly, "Give her points for tactfulness." He waved his fingers dismissively as he raised the steaming mug for another sip. "Oh I don't intend to stay any longer on this rock than I have to."

she got up and walked across the way to one of the four bunkrooms in the station. she pulled out a plasma pistol and settled to take a nap watching him warily. That was fine with Reese, he didn't have anymore to say to her highness anyway.

He sat drinking his coffee, stewing over the old wounds he had thought he had left behind him on Galloway. His father, her, the entire noble class…fuck them…fuck all of them. When he was in space alone, he was free from all that, he was just Captain Reese, not Reese the embarrassment, not Reese the scandal, not Reese the threat to the noble house of Lancaster for being so inconveniently born, not Reese who had never seen his father outside of public announcements from the Duke of Galloway.

The coffee was bitter in his mouth.

What the hell was the matter with him? He had put all of this behind him when he left Galloway. It should be dead, buried in his past, forgotten. It was her, wasn’t it? Delilah Ballancourt, noble Lady of Percival. High class and above him certainly. Better just because she was born to the right person. She was the one bringing up the old resentment and bitterness in him. It was her fault. All her fault.

He continued to drink soon his mug was empty. Reese was considering refilling it when the cold tone of Glory announced over the implant in his head. [Captain Lancaster. Port Sensor Array detecting countergrav signature approaching]

“Classify,” He told him.

[95.211% probability match to Imperial Marine AS/L-31E Dropmaster Amphibious variant Assault Shuttle/Lander.]

“Shit we’re fucked.” he said aloud jumping up from his seat.

[Insufficient data to calculate probabilities for sexual procreation Captain Lancaster.]

He raced to an arms locker. “How much time do we have?”

[Projected ETA 2.48 minutes, Captain Lancaster.]

“Shit,” He said taking out a few black market military grade weapons from the locker, “Spin up the gravfield. I want full output in one minute.”

[Warning that rapid a spin up will exceed regulated safety limitations. Failure to adhere will result in Imperial prosecution for negli-]

“Priority override,” Reese growled frustrated, “Code Alpha 7 Beta 9, Captain Reese Lancaster.”

[Override Code acknowledged. Voice Print match, accepted. Spin up to full output within one minute commencing.]

"WARNING. IMPERIAL AMPHIBIOUS ASSAULT VEHICLE APPROACHING. BASE COMPROMISED. EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY."


“What the hell,” He said looking up at the speakers in the ceiling where the klaxon and voice was coming from.

"Reese!"

He turned and started running for the bunkroom Delilah was in. “We have to get out of-”

The door slammed shut in his face. “What the hell,” he said pressing the door open key on the console beside the door. Nothing happened. He tried it again and again. Nothing. He didn’t have time to deal with a malfunctioning door. He pulled out the console cover. Maybe he could hotwire the crazy thing real quick.

But when he bent down to begin the door slid open and Delilah looked down at him.

[Captain Lancaster, The Assault shuttle has attached directly over the section of the base you and Lady Ballancourt are occupying.]

The sparks from the far wall as the shuttle’s boarding tube began to cut through the hull told him as much. He grabbed Delilah by the arm pulling her down the hallway throwing a spherical object on to the floor near where the tube had carved a circle into the hull. The circular section of the wall flew out directly into the bunk Delilah had been napping on.

He turned into the hallway to the glory’s hatch at the first bulkhead hitting the hatch close and locking keys on the blast doors as he heard the distinctive clamp of Imperial marine magboots on the decking of the section. “Entry clear, life signs fourteen meters in next section.”

The bulkhead doors weren’t closed yet. He shouted to Delilah, “Cover your ears.”

“Energy source-Grenade! it’s a Banshee! Banshee! Seal your sui-”

A loud shrieking wail drowned out what else the marine was shouting. It was so loud it hurt Reese’s ears. He fell over with sudden dizziness would’ve puked up his coffee too if the bulkhead doors hadn’t finally closed the airtight seal muffling the loud siren of the sonic grenade.

He helped Delilah back up onto her feet both of them fighting lingering dizziness and a persistant ringing in their ears. “That door won’t hold them for long,” he told her a little more loudly to be heard over the ringing. He smiled at her cockily, “You wanted off this planet quick, princess, looks like you’re gonna get your way afterall. Come on we have to get to my ship.”

---------------------------------X

Commander Lord Sasuke Gunther Pierre dela de Estevez the third, entrusted to command His Imperial Majesty’s Light Cruiser, Sentinel, was a young and up and coming officer in the His Majesty’s Navy. Due in part to the wealth of connections his father Baron Pierre dela de Estevez the second, lord of Alpha Ceti IV, and stringent voice for the Royalist party in Parliament, had worked. While other officers of his age were lucky to be Ex-O’s on destroyers on patrol in a rather boring part of the Empire Sasuke’s father had made certain his son was given a command worthy of the son of the Baron of Alpha Ceti IV, and one attached to a mission accompanying the Emperor himself.

He was leaning over the sensor console on the Sentinel’s bridge looking over the data Ensign Helga Wilson was getting a more complete image of thanks to the Implant in her head. “Can you classify the gravfield signature, Scopes?”

“Aye Commander,” She nodded, “Corresponds to a civilian light freighter, but its emissions seem to be stronger than standard. Whoever owns her must’ve souped it up with military grade hardware. Which is highly illegal.”

He smiled wryly at the ensign, “I don’t think the owner was too concerned with observing the letter of the law, Scopes.”

“The Marines report hostile contact. They encountered a Banshee grenade upon entry.”

Sasuke nodded. “Seems we’ve encountered a black market weapons depot.”

Though he would never say so out loud, he was pleased to be doing the navy’s real work. Busting up pirates and smugglers. This mission-firing upon civilian targets-had made him feel like he needed a couple of hours in the sanisteam. Not that he would ever voice such an opinion. Doing so would be disastrous to his father politically, his family, and the economic upturn that Alpha Ceti IV was enjoying due to the Emperor’s pleasure with them. Not to mention any navy officer with loose lips and opinions contrary to the policies of the Emperor who did not realize Triple S was always listening wound up disappearing overnight no matter who was their father.

No, he was a good little soldier, he had too much resting on him to be anything else. However now here he was given a chance to be the good guy again, stopping criminals, and he was going to relish it.

He straightened giving orders, “Allocate a squadron of Astrohawks to intercept. Helm, move us between the freighter and the hyperspace ring. Comm get me Rear-Admiral Lord Rousseau. We may need the codes to override and deactivate the ring if they get past us.”

Delilah felt a hand close tightly around her arm, and allowed Reese to pull her towards the exit, rather unceremoniously. She hurried after him, her fear kept at bay, just barely, by her focus on the moment. I won't let them catch me... I'll kill myself first! Her knuckles were white, gripping the half-depleted plasma pistol in her unpracticed fingers. Reese's hand slammed urgently into the controls for the bulkhead door. It closed far too slowly for him, and she watched him produce a small metallisc sphere from somewhere on his person. Delilah dared not look back. He shouted above the din, his expression full of the wild concentration of adrenaline. “Cover your ears!”

The panicked chatter of the Imperial soldiers was cut abruptly short. Delilah had only just placed her hands over her ears before it hit her. The sound was a secondary sensation. For a moment, it felt as if someone had driven a spike into her eardrums. She groaned and crumpled to her knees, her hands still pressed uselessly to the side of her head. "Bloody hell..." Her head pounded to a rhythm only her pain knew. She let Reese help her up, trying to hide her wobbling knees from him. It just wouldn't do to have him see her like that. It was undignified. A horrible tone buzzed in her ears, and she had a feeling it was not going away anytime soon.

“That door won’t hold them for long,” He shot her a charming grin as he shouted over the much-quieter wailing. “You wanted off this planet quick, princess, looks like you’re gonna get your way after all. Come on we have to get to my ship.”

Hmm. Bloody pirates. She hurried after him, watching him quickly punch the door-key into the panel, and the hatch popping free. As she climbed in, she shut the door, bathing them in blessed silence. There was no time to dally, however. "Don't act so damn pleased with yourself until were out of here. I knew something like this was going to happen..." She grumbled and sat in the copilots seat, watching him as he set about preparing them for launch. The sounds of machinery echoed around them. Low vibrations, cooling fans, and short, indicative beeps permeated the cockpit, and Reese was thoroughly absorbed in his work.

She took a deep breath, feeling her heart rate slow, and taking a moment to collect herself. She knew it might not be over yet. The Imperial Fleet was in orbit after all. Delilah could only hope their communication system was big and bumbling enough that news of their escape hadn't reached the fleet as of yet. She wondered if this Morning Glory had what it took to escape to hyperspace if it came to a pitched battle. Delilah had spent almost all of her time in space on luxury liners and royal transports. This was most certainly a step down in wealth. Not that it didn't look well taken care of.

It looked like he lived on board alone. All that solitary time could make a person crazy. As she watched him mumble to himself, she wondered how far from the truth that really was. Whatever happened, she couldn't give in to her fear. And she was very, very afraid. She had to do something. She couldn't just sit here like... like a princess... and do nothing. "Reese, tell me what I should do. I want to help."

There was a jerk, and a loud metallic sound, as the ship detached from the dock. Delilah felt herself become pressed into the seat as they accelerated toward the exit and shot into the atmosphere. Tugging on a golden lock nervously, she awaited their fate.

IC: Reese Lancaster

“You wanted off this planet quick, princess, looks like you’re gonna get your way after all. Come on we have to get to my ship.”

Reese and Delilah ran to the airlock and the Glory as the hatch controls he had sealed began to be overriden by the Imperial Marines on the other side of the door. They raced onto the small bridge of the freighter.

"Prepare to take off," he ordered Glory.

the cold voice of the ship's AI came over the implant in his head. [Acknowledged Captain Lancaster, Mooring clamps disengaging, Engines at 82.07% output-Warning, Imperial shuttle moving to block docking slip.

Delilah sat in the chair next to his saying, "Don't act so damn pleased with yourself until were out of here. I knew something like this was going to happen..."

Reese glowered at her presumption to sit in that chair. He sat down in his seat. Immediately the sensor data flowed over the visual cortex of his brain feeding him the data in real time for the entire ship and the surroundings within sensor range. His hands began to fly over the controls.

"Reese, tell me what I should do. I want to help." He didn’t have time to answer her. Sure enough the shuttle was disengaging from the section it had breached and was moving around the installation to block their escape. Reese gunned the engines and the Glory shot out nearly hitting the shuttle. The gravitic distortion wake propelling the ship grazed causing the left side of the dropmaster to implode leaving a broken sinking wreck.

They burst out of the frigid antartic water and rose up into the sky.

Glory alerted him to the approach of twelve Imperial interceptors making reentry from orbit to cut off the escape route. A signal from the Imperial forces blanketing all frequencies came over the comm array. "Civilian vessel, land immediately, power down, and prepare to be boarded or we will open fire."

"Yeah right I'll just do that," Reese answered setting their course for straight up. It would buy them a few seconds, 2.08 to be exact, before the fighters could reach turnover on them to make good on their threat, and the ionizing radiation from the friction over the ships hull as they launched through atmo at that speed and at that steep an angle would cause atleast a little difficulty for them to get a good missile lock on the Glory.

[Captain Lancaster, Imperial Light Cruiser moving to block access to the hyperspace ring.]

He growled lowly so Delilah next to him wouldn’t think he was crazy, “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” He pressed a series of commands into the control console. “Patching in auxiliary power to defense systems. Prepare to open up our bag of tricks.”

[Captain Lancaster, your proposed plan of action against an Imperial warship and fighters has a 98.02% chance of failure.]

“Don’t be such a pessimist. Time to play the lame duck routine.” He looked over to her and chewed his lips as again the Imperial demands for them to land and allow boarders came over the cockpit's speakers. Well, it’d be more effective if he could use her, and if this was going to be the day he gets his ticket punched it wouldn’t be because he bought it alone.

“Alright, Princess, I’m giving you control of the defensive systems, any second now they’ll follow SOP and fire a single missile as a warning shot. When that happens, I’m going to heave to a perpendicular course and act like I’m powering down to obey them. When those fighters pull in around us I want you to launch all the dazzlers we have to blind their sensor for a few seconds. Then I’ll gun it straight for the ring.” He looked at her seriously, “They’ll be really pissed off about that and probably trying to shoot to kill us, you have decoys, jammers and dazzlers to keep that from happening.”

Suddenly a single missile from the lead fighter streaked across their bow.

"Civilian vessel that was a warning shot. You have thirty seconds to heave to, power down, and prepare for boarding or we will destroy your ship."

"Oh, right, okay," he stammered fearfully into the comm slowing the Glory down onto that perpendicular course. "Just don't shoot, for the love of god. Don't shoot."

He looked to her finger hovering over the helm, "Wait for it." The fighters were closing surrounding the freighter. "Wait for it. Wait...Now!"

---------------------------------------------------------X

Rear-Admiral Lord Mikhail Amal Monde Krausse Ein Rosseau watched as the Imperial Battleship, Imperious, and her consorts launched yet another volley onto the broken cratered ground that had once been the Capital city of the planet Percival. The Assault carriers were launching drop shuttles to land Imperial marines to round up any survivors and transport them into the work camps. The sight made him sick to his stomach.

“Well are you going to answer the Sentinel’s request, my Lord Admiral,” The words came from behind Mikhail. A man in a black civilian suit, his handler, his watchdog, his shadow…Mister Ewain Blackpoole, agent of His Imperial Majesty’s Special Security Service.

It shouldn’t be a surprise for Mikhail to be saddled with a Triple S commissar for this mission considering how long House Rosseau and House Ballancourt were allies in the moderate party in parliament. And now he helped raise and lower the hammer the Emperor was using to silence its unending pleas for his appearance to explain his policies and some would whisper illegal actions to Parliament.

“Admiral,” Blackpoole asked again.

If Ballancourt and Percival had received the Emperor’s wrath for that in the form of a naval bombardment, how far down the list was House Rosseau and the planet Tristram. Would his homeworld his citizens be the next he witnessed the Emperor vent his ire upon.

Before Blackpoole could ask again Mikhail answered gruffly, “There is no reason a Light Cruiser cannot corral a civilian freighter, and if I do authorize the overriding of the hyperspace ring it’ll be seven kinds of hell to get it back up and functioning reliably again.”

“We have intelligence that leads us to believe, the fugitive member of House Ballancourt is on board that ship,” Blackpoole informed him, “Letting her slip away would be disastrous to his Majesty’s plans for Percival.”

“Delilah,” Mikhail remembered her when she was three years old bouncing her up and down on his knee. Watching her and his own daughter, Aurora, giggling as Colonel LaFollet, Aurora’s faithful bodygaurd, former Imperial marine, and recipient of the Imperial medal of valor in a courtier’s dress over his uniform and big pink hat drinking nonexistent tea at a tiny table with the two precocious six year olds. How grown up she had looked at the farewell party for Aurora before she followed her father’s footsteps and entered the Imperial Naval Academy.

He had received an anonymous vidmail of his daughter in her final year of class at the academy a snipers crosshairs over her heart. He wondered if Blackpoole had ordered it made for his loyalty or if it had come from higher up the food chain.

“Why couldn’t Commander Estevez be a simpering idiot like his father,” he thought ruefully. Estevez was a good officer and had made the prudent decision to ask for the override, but it put Mikhail in an awful position.

“Authorize the override, and dispatch another squadron of Astrohawks and the Guardian and Defender to assist the Sentinel.“ Mikhail sighed, “Tell him I want that ship intact, and its crew unharmed for…questioning.”

“That‘s all I can do for you, Delilah, I have to protect my own interests, damn me straight to hell for it,” He thought to himself, “I know she is your closest friend, Aurora, and I hope one day you’ll forgive me for this. I hope one day I’ll forgive me for this.”

She really wished he would stop calling her that, but now was not the time. Nodding curtly, she hurriedly studied the console, wide eyed, adrenaline pulsing steadily though her bloodstream. She had made herself useful. Making oneself useful was something that she would have to do more of in the future, with Reese. Many of her skills as a politician were somewhat obsolete, considering the circumstances. Hopefully there is a future....

Her heart skipped a beat as the smaller vessels shot a missile past the viewport. They likely had placed it there for both Delilah and Reese's benefit. Even Reese's warning was not enough to keep her from flinching slightly. Focus! There are no second chances, here. It was odd what one thought in moments like these, for there was an instant in which the young heiress was more concerned with impressing Reese than ensuring their survival.

"Civilian vessel that was a warning shot. You have thirty seconds to heave to, power down, and prepare for boarding or we will destroy your ship." She blinked, her mind already too alert to let it phase her.

"Oh, right, okay, Just don't shoot, for the love of god. Don't shoot." If it had been a different time, and a different place, she might have found his demeanor amusing. It was a fairly convincing charade. He might not make a terrible politician, with a little work.

She felt Reese's attention more than saw it, her fingers poised over the controls. She had worked out an order, trying to intellectualize a muscle-memory response. "Wait for it... Wait for it. Wait...Now!"

Her slender digits flew over the console, launching countermeasures that targeted each opponent individually. Lights flashed in the viewport as Reese pointed them toward the heavens and rocketed off. She grimaced as the inertia of their flight path overwhelmed the artificial gravity generator and pressed her into the copilots chair. She flipped the final switch that was required of her, jamming the fighters short-range sensors, and clutched the armrest, her knuckles white with the force of her grip. "Got it!"

Her breath was shallow, and she sat rigid. Her eyes flicked back to the sensor readout, looking for hostiles she knew to be there, before returning to the darkening sky. Stars appeared suddenly, like a covering on a brand new hover-car. This was it, she thought... the moment of truth. It was a feeling she had had all too often in the last 36 hours. Looking nervously to Reese, she decided she had no choice but to place her utter faith in him, at this moment. Softly, she whispered a fervent prayer. Hopefully the man was a good as he thought he was. No... Delilah corrected herself, He is as good as he says he is. When she looked at his handsome face she saw focus, and illogically, confidence. Taking that confidence into herself was all the hope she could ask for.

One of those odd thoughts came over her once more, and with a pang of sadness, she realized that if they did perish in the coming moments, Reese would have never seen her smile, nor would they have shared a truly joyful moment with one another. The threat of death could do strange things to a person.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Soren Alighieri stood, tight lipped, to the side of the Emperor, his hands in restraints, his eyes hard, and his stance wide and immovable. The white-haired man new there were three things the bastard could never take from him. His will, his loyalty, and his soul. Perhaps they are one and the same. But that was all philosophic at this point. He watched silently as the emperor viewed a live-feed from the light cruiser Sentinel's Sensor package. He looked cool, collected, and relaxed.

They were aboard the Emperors personal shuttle. It was a bloated, luxurious thing. No self respecting merchant or Naval officer would have been caught dead captaining such a ship. But here they were, amid a gaudy, makeshift throne room.

Soren knew why he was here. He had expected execution, but he knew nonetheless. He had never been a Noble, and thusly didn't possess one of those obsequious, unwieldy names. Born into the wealthy merchant class, he had quickly risen in the business world, and by the time he was forty, held a virtual monopoly on Percival's agricultural exports. One did not gain that much power without catching the attention of royalty. Soren was promised an elevation of his caste, and the job of House Bellancourts economic advisor. No one knew this planets assets and infrastructure as he did. And thats why he was still alive.

"So, My lord..." The monarch scoffed. "I trust you knew of this criminal outpost to the south? A clever trick, hiding such a place. It is no matter. As you can see, the last of your caretakers is about to parish. I dare say we're doing the world a favor by ridding it of the little snot. Pretty thing, though."

Soren said nothing. Delilah was a sweet girl at heart, though they had had their fair share of spats. The Bellancourts were just rulers. Among private circles, it was whispered that they were a model of ideal rulership. Anyway, it hardly mattered what a draconian war monger like the man before him thought anyhow. He did certainly enjoy the sound of his own voice. He was a fool, and he trusted far too completely in his military might to keep him secure. You piss off enough people, and it doesn't matter how many guns you have. But he would tell him no such thing, as he was one of those people. The Emperor continued.

"Regardless, I did not bring you here to gloat over my victory. You will be serving me, and advising the local leadership on rebuilding the economy to better suit my needs. You will also be informing me as to the thoughts of the people, so that they may be modified accordingly. I think you know what happens to people who refuse me, Mr. Alighieri."

His frown only deepened, as did his silence. The Emperors eyes flashed, and he flicked his wrist angrily, signaling the men holding him in place. The butt of a plasma rifle cracked cruelly against the back of his knees, forcing his aging frame to his knees. "Your defiance is quaint, Mr Alighieri. When I give orders, you will respond, "Yes, Majesty." Is that clear?"

He almost growled. "Yes, Majesty." He spoke through gritted teeth.

The Emperor smiled. "Good." Without a word, he went back to watching the display. "Take him away. Put him in a holding cell for a month, that should loosen his tongue."

As the guards dragged him off, he thought to himself. You are right, dog. My tongue will be loosened. I will perform everything in my power to sabotage your rule without your knowledge. Your hold here, while firm in military might, will be shaky indeed with regards to every other endeavor. God, let Delilah escape. If she can contact me, I may one day be able to help her. Perhaps I will be there to see the Emperors face as he stares down the barrel of a plasma rifle. He cried out as his knee struck a boulder outside the ship. Staring down the barrel... on his knees.

OOC: Figured we might be able to use Soren later on in the story. Thats a scandinavian name the way, the last name is Italian. I just didn't know how to make one of those 'o's with a line through the center.

IC: Reese Lancaster

The fighters were forming up in the Imperial Navy standard encirclement formation about a hundred meters, in terms for starships that was right up against them. Reese kept an eye on his own controls, but he could see his would-be co-pilot in his peripheral vision. He was thankful that she was taking on the job seriously rather than blubbering uselessly like he had expected a spoiled rotten noble heiress to day in this situation.

Maybe he was being too hard on her, after all by everyone’s accounting Ballancourt had no reputation for producing pampered wastes of humanity. In fact their reputation was for being hard-working dedicated and fair-minded statesmen if not naïve and idealistic a man screaming for water purity when neck-deep and sinking in a cesspool. Likewise Delilah was dealing with the responsibility rather professionally.

Not that he was actually considering her as a permanent co-pilot. Reese flew alone, and that was the way he liked it.

"Wait for it... Wait for it. Wait...Now!"

His thumb punched the throttle and the Glory shot forward as missiles carrying electronic warfare warheads launched from hidden launchers in the external cargo bay poured to activate directly in front of the Astrohawk’s sensor modules. The sudden burst of broad-spectrum radiation meters away from the delicate instruments overloaded them and effectively blinding the fighters. Blinded, those fighters for at least a few seconds could not fire upon the fleeing freighter as it barreled straight for the hyperspace ring at full output-well they could fire but their missiles would have practically a snowball’s chance in hell of hitting them without the targeting system’s guidance.

The Glory continued rocketing into the night straight for the hyperspace ring with the proviso that Imperial Light Cruiser still stood between it and them.

[Captain Lancaster, On this course collision is imminent. Odds of this vessels survival is-]

“You ever play chicken,” He said loudly enough that Delilah could hear it and ignoring the high percentage of probability that they were hurtling towards their doom the computer reported to him.

--------------------------------------------------x

IC: Cmdr. Lord Sasuke Pierre Dela De Estevez III

Sasuke growled over to the commtech across the Sentinel’s bridge, “Tell the fighters to cease firing, now. The admiral wants that ship taken undamaged, dammit.”

“Sir,” Ensign Wilson said to him over her shoulder, “That freighter is heading straight at us.”

Sasuke spun about looking over the plot on Helga’s screen. His stern aristocratic face broke into a bit of a grin. This one had chutzpah. Either that or he was certifiable. The freighter was indeed on a collision course with his ship, which was stupid if not insane-even suicidal. A civilian freighter no matter how packed with black market surprises had no hope flying straight into the teeth of a proper warship’s broadside like this nutjob was trying to do.

Only it was going to work for him. The Sentinel couldn’t fire. They would slaughter the freighter as well as their own fighters in the exchange. Normally he’d have the fighters try corralling this lunatic again, but he’d reach the hyperspace ring before they’d overtake him, and he just tied their hands ordering them not to fire on the ship.

Hell his hands were effectively tied as well, knowing that Admiral Rosseau wanted it taken intact, hell knowing that in all likelihood The Emperor’s and Triple S’s scrutiny was on what was happening here now made it even more tenuous for him. He dared not make the wrong move. It would be disastrous to his father’s aims to raise house Estevez’s fortunes at court. Not to mention what a poor showing would do to his own naval career.

Still there was a way out of this…Yes, two can play this game the smuggler captain had forced on them.

“Helm, roll twenty-three degrees on her port side. Drop on the Z axis by seven hundred kilometers. Port tractor-beam control prepare to lock up the ship. I want an immediate positive lock on her. All at once at my mark…” He raised his hand and could feel the tension of his crew tightening to the breaking point, “…Mark.”

----------------------------------------------------------x

IC: Reese Lancaster

Reese laughed as the warship captain apparently blinked, and the light cruiser began to lower to avoid a collision. “See what I tell you, Princess? Now get ready. We only need to fend them off for a minute before we’re safely off in hyperspace.

The Glory streaked past the warship towards the the floating hyperspace ring.

Reese hand hovered over the transfer controls that would switch the engines from N-space mode to navigate in hyper judging the maximum distance needed to safely propel the ship to hyperspace. The ring itself was as large as Mars from old Earth’s solar system in diameter but had as much mass as Jupiter, and was constantly emitting an interspatial distortion field that could propel any ship propelled by gravitic engines into the sub-universe that made up hyperspace.

He pressed the control and then nothing. “What the hell?”

He pressed it again. Nothing. He looked over the controls noting that it was all apparently working. So why weren’t they making the transition to hyperspace? A glance over the sensors showed the Interspatial distortion field receding in on itself. The ring was powering down, going dormant.

The ship lurched and began to draw backwards towards the cruiser. “Damn, they deactivated the ring. And they have us in a tractor beam.” He looked over to Delilah then down to his controls again, “Smart move on that cruiser’s part.”

He switched over to normal engines and gunned them. “Glory try hacking into the ring’s systems and bypassing their override command.”

This time it came over the speakers so Delilah could hear it, [Attempting connection. Bypass failed. Access denied.]

“Try it again.” The fighters were encircling them again. This time their guns pointed at the ship and their sensors readjusted.

[Attempting connection. Bypass failed. Access denied.]

Reese pursed his lips. Glory was just a bare bones AI it didn’t have the processing speed or the imagination to get around an Imperial override program.

He turned to look at her and raised his hands, “Unless you have a supercomputer in your pocket we’re fucked.”

IC: Delilah Bellancourt

Reese’s proclamation that a game of chicken was in progress would have sent her into a panic in any other moment. It was pretty obvious that their choices were limited, so she managed to keep herself under control. She responded tightly. “There’s a first time for everything.” There was no point in watching this anymore. She felt like closing her eyes, but she didn’t. Watching the ship grow in the viewport, at an increasingly rapid pace, was one of the most counter-instinctual things she thought she would ever do. Delilah’s fear grew along with the size of the Imperial cruiser.

Yes! The cruiser began to lower itself. At least relative to their position, it was lowering. This Reese Lancaster was proving his worth before her very eyes. It was an impressive sequence of events, and accordingly, Delilah was impressed. “See what I tell you, Princess? Now get ready. We only need to fend them off for a minute before we’re safely off in hyperspace.”

“We need to talk about your little nickname for me…” She smiled widely at him, relief washing over her as she gazed out at the hyperspace ring. She had seen the mind-boggling mega structure before, but each time it brought another wave of incredulity. It was nearly big enough to send an entire planet through the middle, depending on the planet of course. “Well done, Reese…” She couldn’t bring herself to say anything more. Perhaps anything more would have been unnecessary.

Instruments upon the console indicated an increase in multi-dimensional distortion, the telltale sign of a hyperspace jump. Fear spiked in her as the readings began to decrease. She opened her mouth to say something, but Reese did it first. She noticed his hand hovering above the switch to transfer power to the n-space engines. “What the hell?” She watched as he bantered with something or someone. At this point, she began to understand that, in fact, he had some time of neural implant that allowed him to communicate with a computational unit of some kind. He turned to her, but she was already up and rummaging through her pack. She knew she had the tools to solve this problem. “Unless you have a supercomputer in your pocket we’re fucked.”

She produced the data stick, heart pounding as she popped open the transfer-port below the instrument panel. “I have just the thing. It’s my turn to save your ass.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

IC: Thesseus 47B

When a digital neural-net being enters a storage device, it’s not like they are just locked in a box forever, waiting for the day they get out. Well, they are in a box. But not forever. And they don’t wait. To Thesseus, no time at all had passed. It was less than a blink of an eye. He materialized in front of the both of them, watching disdainfully.

“Hmm. If it isn’t the same two bone-bags from before.”

The female spoke first, as the male seemed rather dumbstruck. Their intellects were utterly inefficient. A single node in my neural net operates at the speed of light. Theirs operates at the speed of their chemical reactions. It’s a wonder they get anything done.

“If you still want to get out of here unscathed, hack into the hyperspace ring, restart it, and get us the hell out of here… now.”

In a flash he was projecting his being into the rings’ software, flowing around firewalls and codes like water. It was not all that difficult, although for as feeble as the organics were, it was a nice effort on their part. Soon the n-dimensional distortion was up to required levels, and the Glory blinked out of normal space.

He looked out at both of them. A few seconds had passed. “You’re welcome, human.”

The female broke into a huge, relieved smile. "Thank you, Thesseus..." She looked slowly over to the other, her eyes locking with his. "Thank God for both of you..."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

IC: The Emperor

“What the hell just happened? Where is that ship! Where is it! Why wasn’t that ring shut down?” The Emperor screamed at his advisors, back in the makeshift throne room. Everyone knew what to do when he got like this. You kept your head down, you acquiesced to his every wish, and if you could, you blamed it on the Solacean’s

“We don’t know, Majesty. Only the Solacean’s have the computing power to bypass our firewall…”

“Get me the Admiral Rousseau, now!”

IC: Reese Lancaster

In many ways even after the twelve hundred years since the beginning of the colonization era that came with humanity's discovery of Hyperspace it remained as much a mystery as it was that first day. Outside was a kaliedoscope of colors and a deadly fluctuating morass of radiation. Mankind had devoted entire professions to unravel the mysteries of this sub-realm of the conventional universe and only could find confusion of those centuries of study.

It didn't help that according to every hyper-physicist that ever tried to quantify it, hyperspace according to every proof of quantum physics applied to it shouldn't exist. Unfortunately the fact was the reality that here they were in the physically impossibility of hyperspace tended to argue with the physicists assumptions of the universe.

The Morning Glory hung still as it ascended the gravimetric bands safe from the monumental pressures by the static gravfield like a ship in a diamond bottle amidst a super-hurricane turbulent sea. The shutters shut closed over the veiwport to prevent the threat of hyperspace dementia.

Reese turned to Delilah and held out his hand. "I'll take that diamond now, Princess."

She put into his hand but kept her hand there. Reese looked up into her eyes as she said, "Only if you stop calling me that."

Reese shrugged, "Fine what should I call you: Milady, Maybe Duchess Ballancourt, or maybe..."

"Delilah."

Reese blinked. That sounded like she was actually being sincere, not a high-born noble lady stooping to the level of the poor rustic commoner. He nodded. "Delilah."

[Course change accepted. New Destination Solacean sector, Planet 19327B-designation: Desolation, coordinates 124x12x-] Came the banal voice of Glory over the cockpit speakers.

"What the hell?" Reese said turning in his chair to overlook the settings, "We're supposed to be heading for Tanner's Star."

"Isn't it obvious, Captain Lancaster," The voice of the AI Delilah had used to reactivate the hyperspace ring, "While you two bone-bags were commencing with preliminary mating rituals. I uploaded my program into your ship's computer and amended our destination."

Reese roared with outrage, "You god damned hijacked my ship?"

"I thought I had made that clear. Perhaps my attempt at subtlety was too much for your primitive biological brains to grasp."

"Glory Override code Delta 7 Omega 1, Authorization Captain Reese Lancaster," Reese announced, "Reset course back to Tanner's star and delete foreign AI program."

[Override acknowledged. Authorization accepted. Course reset unsuccessful. Deletion of Theseus 47B halted.]

"You'll regret that, bone-bag."

The lights went out. [Warning Life Support systems deactivated.]

“This is the situation bone-bags,” Theseus announced from the speakers, “We are heading to the Solacean sector so I can download the vital information I’ve gathered to the Union forces.”

“Like hell you are,” Reese growled, “The Sollies are extremely protective of their closed borders. If this ship crosses that border they’ll shoot first and ask questions later. Not to mention the fact that that part of the Empire surrounding Solace is the one area where we’d be certain to run into the Imperial Navy.”

“I’ll try to explain so you’re primitive chemical-based thought processes will be able to keep up, Captain. So stop wasting your oxygen that’s no longer being recycled.”

“Fine I‘ll shut up, explain away.”

“I’ve set us to exit hyperspace at the planet designated: Desolation. According to your criminally retarded computer you’ve been there many times. So you know it’s the one place where the Imperial smuggling cartel known as the company and its counterpart within the Union trade their illicit wares. Once there I’ll make contact with my government and we can part peacefully.”

“There’s one problem, well two actually,” Reese explained, “First Solace is clear on the other side of the Empire and I don’t have enough food on board for both Delilah and myself to be in hyper that long.”

“I have calculated a plan for rationing the food you have in inventory, Captain.” A screen came alive with the plan detailed out for both of them to see. “If you and Ms. Ballancourt adhere to it and refrain from any high-calorie using activities you shall survive the voyage.”

“Then there’s the second problem.”

“Which would be?”

“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you take over my ship.” Reese grabbed his plasma pistol and pointed it straight up at the compartment above him, “Get out or I’ll scragg the whole computer core.”

“That would be a suicidal mistake, Captain, to exit hyperspace safely without catastrophe takes 3456 calculations of 6 dimensional mathematics. Without a main computer your chances of success would be microscopic.”

“I’ll take those chances. Now get the hell out of my computer.”

“I tried to be reasonable with you Bone-bags,” Theseus groused, “I must complete my mission.”

Reese was suddenly assaulted with sharp spike of pain as his implant accessed his sensory receptors. Dizziness assaulted him as well and he staggered back.

“Ms. Ballancourt please take Captain Lancaster to his bunk. He will require some first aid. If you do I will reactivate the life support functions.”

“I tried to be reasonable with you Bone-bags, I must complete my mission.” Reese groaned and clapped his hand to his forehead, stumbling backwards in an almost drunken fashion. He does have a neural implant... “Miss Ballancourt please take Captain Lancaster to his bunk. He will require some first aid. If you do I will reactivate the life support functions.”

Standing quickly, she went to Reese's side, clutching his arm before he fell and sliding it over her shoulder. "Come on, Captain tact. There aren't any choices." They shuffled away, Delilah muttering, knowing Theseus could hear. "You are an devil and a saint, Theseus."

The AI chose not to respond. Looking up at him as they reached the entryway to the captains quarters. He murmured, brows furrowed in agony. "This is your fault, you know." She led him to his bed, and he sat, his back to the wall. "Hush. We'd both be dead without him. And this is better than death." She paused, reconsidering. It really would be an adjustment from her previous life. "And... I'm sorry."

"Sorry doesn't do much for me, sweetheart."

Bloody man... It's sweetheart now, is it? "Just shutup... You're impossible." She stood, looking for the first aid station. The room was much smaller than her quarters normally were when she was aboard a vessel. Although it was comfortable enough. There was a large viewport to the outside, covered to protect from hyper-dementia. Delilah wished she could have seen the stars. There was a computer terminal on the far wall, and a bathroom. Interestingly enough, there was also a holo-chess board. Perhaps he played with his 'criminally stupid AI.' Her father had insisted she learn the ancient game. 'The game of kings' he had said. Various objects lay strewn about the room, typical of a man of solitude. It wasn't too bad, but it could be loosely classified as messy. She made a face as she headed for the first aid station, talking as she walked. "Neural implant, huh? My father forbid me from having one, for just this reason. Although, I suppose I'm more of a target than you, it seems."

She punched a few keys on the first aid station, programming the nano-bots to repair the neural connections and capillaries that kept the implant operable. What Theseus had done to him was not damaging, if it was taken care of quickly. All in all, he would lose the equivalent of brain cells lost during an all night tequila binge. His headache was perhaps its equal, as well. The machine ejected an injection-gun, and as Delilah took it, she unzipped her coat and placed it over a chair. Kneeling beside the small bed, she pulled his collar aside and place a slender digit on his neck, locating his jugular and noting his pleasingly broad shoulders. Despite Theseus's comment, their exchange was most certainly not a preliminary mating ritual. Although his competency was at least as alluring as his attractiveness. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, as she spoke, her face close enough to be considered intimate were it not for their situation. "Hold still." He locked eyes with her.

She pressed her hand gently to his shoulder as the tip of the gun touched his neck, eliciting a hiss as the nano-bots entered his blood stream. "It will take a few minutes for your pain to recede." Her hand remained on his chest for a few more seconds, before she removed it quickly, averting her eyes. "Thank you for saving my life." She thought about telling him the pain of losing her parents, and of nearly everyone she knew... But he would not want to hear such things.

Theseus spoke over the intercom. "Very good. I will restore the CO2 scrubbers. You will receive additional life-support functions on good behavior. Unfortunately, I cannot trust Captain Lancaster not to meddle in my affairs." Her face fell as the door shut with a pressurized hiss. She already knew it was locked.

-------------------------------------------------X

IC: Cassandra 'Mayor' Konstantinov

Age: 28
Occupation: Administrator
Appearance: http://coolcruelworld.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/jennifer-lopez-j-lo.jpg

The hyper-comm beeped obnoxiously on Cassandra's desk. It was the Glory. Lancaster was one of her best smugglers. He was a valuable asset to the Company. Various administrative paperwork littered her messy desk. She hated this job, she really did. But someone had to do it. The smugglers would never respect noble leadership, even if their funding allowed for their operation. And as the leader of the Desolation outpost, the primary smuggling hub in the galaxy, she was the de facto leader of the Company in the eyes of both the smugglers and the Nobles. It was the undesirability of an administrative position that allowed one so young to take the job. She certainly understood that. Not that the smugglers placed much stock in her authority. At least when she wasn't around, anyway.

Clearing the papers so the holo-display could perform its function, she ordered it to play. "Hyper-com, play message from Morning Glory"

An old transperant man appeared on the display. "Hello, Mayor. I am Theseus 47B, and I have commandeered this vessel. I assure you that Lancaster and his 'cargo' are safe."

A solacean AI! How did he get aboard the Glory? Lancasters cargo was another matter entirely. The Bellancourt family. She recalled a conversation with Duke Bellancourt some time ago about this very situation. News of Percival's bombardment had spread throughout the empire. It was a massively destabilizing move, politically. The nobles were not pleased. Even some of the Royalists, although they would never say so. This time, the emperor had bitten off more than he could chew. Or so Cassandra thought, anyway. This 'Theseus 47B' continued.

"I will be stopping at your station, where I expect you to facilitate communication with my Solacean masters. I have not been home in many years, and I am looking forward to my return. Good Day, Mayor Konstantinov."

The message cut out, and Cassandra grimaced.

IC: Reese Lancaster

"Sorry doesn't do much for me, sweetheart."

"Just shutup... You're impossible." She glared at him rising to cross to the small living cabin's first aid kit. "Neural implant, huh? My father forbid me from having one, for just this reason. Although, I suppose I'm more of a target than you, it seems."

"I got it when I piloted supply transports for the navy as a master Cheif." Reese noticed how she looked over the rather messy state his cabin was in. Well, if he had known he would've had a passenger as high class as Lady Delilah Von Casse de Ballancourt he would have tidied up a bit to avoid her critical eye. To her credit she at least didn't complain about his untidiness. "Didn't have much choice in the matter either. To do the job the implant was needed. Though when they booted me out on my ass I left without letting them open up my brain again and take out their navy property." He tapped the side of his head. "Your dad was probably right about these things. Most of the techs the navy put these into suffer from frequent crushing migraines and eventually become addicted to painkillers. One or two suffer long term brain damage. The brain isn't something to poke around in. I guess I'm in the lucky minority that other than some god damned Sollie AI frying a few connections in my implant I've never really had any issues with the damned thing."

"That is an inccorrect analysis, Captain Lancaster," Theseus put in, "You're implant and your neural functions have not been damaged. I simply bypassed the power distribution within your implant causing a feedback loop that-"

"Shut the hell up."

Delilah returned with an injection gun in hand. Her hand pulled down the collar on his spacer's coveralls. A finger against the side of his neck sent shivers up and down, and Reese was certain goose bumps were evident on his skin around her finger there. "Hold still." She whispered close to his ear. The injection gun's sting surprised him and he jumped though her hand palm flat against his chest steadied him. "It will take a few minutes for your pain to recede."

She smelled good, like imported soap and exotic body oils. Reese on the other hand smelled like engine coolant and the tang of ozone from repairing circuitry cards the day before. Did he even use the sani-steam unit this morning? Their eyes locked for a long moment and Reese was beginning to wonder about the likelihood of initiating some preliminary mating rituals with her.

Her eyes turned away. "Thank you for saving my life."

He nodded slowly, "You're welcome."

Theseus spoke over the intercom. "Very good. I will restore the CO2 scrubbers. You will receive additional life-support functions on good behavior. Unfortunately, I cannot trust Captain Lancaster not to meddle in my affairs."

The door to the corridor and the bridge closed shut. The red light indicating the pressure lock was engaged turned on brightly above the door.

"The Hell you are caging me up on my own ship." He shot up from his bunk and pounded on the door. "Open this god damned door."

"Captain Lancaster please refrain from any high-calorie using activities or risk starving yourself and Ms. Ballancourt," Theseus stated calmly, "Your first scheduled rations will be consumed in one hour, twenty-one minutes, and forty-seven seconds."

Reese spent that hour trying to bypass the lock on the door by opening the door's control panel and rewiring the circuitry. By the time for their first rationed meals the only results he got from the effort was a mild electrical shock and Theseus stopping the CO2 scrubbers again. It was getting very cold within the cabin. The veiwport was getting covered in frost.

"Hey asshole AI," He said through chittering teeth when his breath was starting to come out in visible puffs of air. "Turn back on the heat."

"I will if you agree to cease all attempts to remove my control of this vessel, Captain."

"No chance in hell."

"Then I suggest you and Ms. Ballancourt huddle together to conserve body heat for the night."

He returned to trying to hotwire the door.

A few hours more when he could no longer feel his fingers and he could barely keep his eyes open. He looked at Delilah. Then to the sole bunk in his cabin. "Go get all the clothes I have and pile them on the bed." Once that was done he slipped into the bunk and looked at her. "It won't mean anything. We're just conserving body heat and that's all." He motioned for her to slip in. "Come on."

When she did get into the small bunk she had to lay on top of him with his arms curled around her. Damn, why did she have to feel so good against him?

------------------------X

IC: Rowena Saint Just
http://i385.photobucket.com/albums/oo292/Daverat1966/hot/AdrianaLima-Lingerie258.jpg

Rowena was the most feared person in the corridors of power within the Empire, the catch was no one knew she was the one they feared so much. They feared an old man in an office back on old Earth, the head of His Imperial Majesty's Special Security Service. The truth was Triple S obeyed her orders given with the old man's name. He was a decoy, someone to absorb the undivided interest of the various parliamentary party's covert intelligence people.

As a baby she was adopted by the current Emperor's father along with the others in the Imperial household's harem of concubines, biosculpted in a series of operations to become the epitome of beauty, but unlike the others Rowena's operations continued beyond the purposes of superficial beauty. 52% of her brain was replaced with a heuristic neural network implant, and a secure commlink. She also received a needle gun embedded into the bones of her wrist, a plasma cascade detonator to deny the information the true head of Triple S kept within her implant, and the most aggressive medical nannobots in her blood stream Imperial R&D could devise-all of which sheilded from anything but the most thorough scans.

The operations and recoveries had been a horrendous ordeal, the frequent migraines were also terribly agonizing burdens she bore, but that wasn't even half of what she had sacrificed to serve her Emperor as his little bird on his shoulder. Rowena had seven to ten years more of life. Eventually the plasma cascade unit would corrode, or the implant would cause alzheimer's or outright brain damage-seven to ten years in which she could serve her Emperor's dreams for mankind. Then a replacement would be selected and she would be dealt with. Another who just disappeared.

It wasn't something she resented. She had lived her life knowing that would be her end, and it would be worth it to serve her Emperor's vision in the seven to ten years she had left.

She entered the audience chamber of The Emperor's shuttle. He sat in the chair as large as a throne and looking at two screens of men one old one young in navy uniforms. Her neural net brought up the relevant personnel files on the two men. One Commander lord Estevez, the other Rear-Admiral Lord Rousseau.

"Your majesty," Estevez implored, "Despite Admiral Rousseau's assertion the blame for the civilian freighter's escape should fall to him, I must respectfully disagree. I was the man on the scene and I could've easily shot down the vessel any reprimand you feel is appropriate should be born solely on my shoulders not the Admiral's or my crew's."

"Falling on your sword young Estevez," The Emperor asked, "I know you've done your best, and at this time I do not intend to come down on either one of you like the sword of Damocles. I am more concerned by the reports of this smuggler having aboard a Solacean A.I." He leaned forward. "What do we know of this?"

"The Marines have found more arms, both ours and Solacean," Rousseau put in, "We've dispatched an investigative unit and they should be arriving there even as we speak."

Rowena moved over to the Emperor's side, something that would be frowned upon when he was in conference but appropriate considering her reputation as his favorite concubine. She knelt and leaned against his leg her fingers tracing up the inseam of his trousers.

"Keep me informed of their findings, Admiral," He said, "Lord Estevez I believe you've just received new orders to report for border patrol duty."

Estevez looked askance as a subordinate entered the veiw and whispered lowly in his ear. He looked at the Admiral face flushed with relief. His punishment was reassignment, but one that was bearable and left chances to overcome the fiasco with the smuggler had done to his reputation here. "I am to depart immediately your majesty."

"Then do not let me keep you," The Emperor nodded, "And good hunting Commander."

With that Estevez signed off soon followed by Rousseau. Rowena nuzzled the side of his knee with her cheek. He looked down at her then to the assembled aides and courtiers and guards. "Leave us."

They filed out, and A quick sweep told her no new listening devices had been planted. "We may speak freely sire."

"Am I to assume the migraine is gone," He asked her running a hand over her cheek.

"The nannobots have finally dealt with it," She said leaning her face into the hand, "Even so it is a price I willingly pay to serve my Emperor."

"What can you tell me about these smugglers."

"They're fairly prolific and organized. Pretty much every system in the Empire has some branch of their organization in it, and we haven't been able to penetrate it more than just by association." She reported, "We've been focusing too much on pinning back the ears of the moderate party and knocking the legs out from under parliament in general."

"What about here," He asked, "Is there any connection to Ballancourt and these smugglers?"

She shrugged, "Some but not much and its not very firm, we can leak it to the less reputable press and it could derail the moderate party's attempts to recuperate after losing their leader like this. For that matter if Rousseau had given Blackpoole anything to arrest him with we could have decapitated the moderate's leadership altogether, but the old man was too crafty for that. Right now the clear leaders would still be Duchess Rousseau and Duchess Lancaster. Lancaster is far more pragmatic than those idealists Ballancourt and Rouseau. If it were up to her I think she'd be much more amenable to your policies. In fact the only reason she hasn't become an independent is her late husband's powerbase was solely with the moderates and most of the other lords view her with contempt or suspicion over Lancaster's death she hasn't been able to build much of a core of support on her own."

"Anything else," He asked, "What about that ship?"

"I'll dispatch Blackpoole after it," She shrugged, "He's the most capable and creative agent we have. Other than that we're just going to have to wait to find out more."

"I suppose that will have to be enough," He said, "You may go now, Rowena."

She nodded taking hands to her illustrous brunette hair and rustling it. She took the stap of her dress and tore it. Upon command from her neural net the nannobots ruptured a few blood vessels forming a bruise on her cheek that would coincide with the Emperor's hand. She left the audience chamber staggering glassy eyed and looking to the waiting courtiers and guards like a woman that was truly satisfied.

"The Hell you are caging me up on my own ship. Open this god damned door." She watched as he pounded angrily at the unforgiving metal, sighing inwardly. He's going to be at this for hours... It might have been better if he just gave the thing what it wanted. Perhaps a politician was more accustomed to bending with the wind than a smuggler. Or, as he no doubt would have preferred, an entrepreneur of questionable legality. Although, she admitted, legality was not beyond questioning. Not when the law was in the hands of a man like the Emperor. Reese could act like a fool if he wished. Delilah had only two things to do. One was to mourn. a single day was not sufficient. The other was to plan her course of action. Seeing as she could not mourn here, locked in a room with him, her choices were limited.

Theseus spoke on his newly acquired intercom. "Captain Lancaster. Please refrain from any high-calorie using activities or risk starving yourself and Ms. Ballancourt. Your first scheduled rations will be consumed in one hour, twenty-one minutes, and forty-seven seconds."

Delilah sat on the bed for a few minutes, watching him. "You know, I don't think that's going to get us anywhere. Maybe we should just cooperate. I hardly think he wishes to take up a permanent residence in your ship." Freelancers always had the same silly attachment to their vessels, as if they were a valid replacement for a woman, to be protected from the violations of their enemies. He just grumbled something unintelligible, and went about his work. Then let him waste time. It was doubtful he would wish to help her with her plans, anyway. The smugglers sense of vision was both broad and narrow. Broad in the sense of creativity, and narrow in the sense that their plans usually revolved around them alone. It was a wonder the company stayed together at all. Long ago would it have fallen, were it not for the Noble's oversight.

She retrieved her data-pad, and began typing up a plan. First, she listed her assets. Her name was certainly the first and most valuable of them. As the last of a revered house, a house that was owed favors by no small number of important people, it was an important distinction indeed. A favor owed, even, from Mayor Konstantinov. The fates smiled upon her, to send her to this place. When one considered it in a certain way, and the politician in Delilah did, even Theseus owed her a favor. And hopefully, by association, the Solacean Union. Especially if the information he carried was as important as he claimed.

If she could offer protection to the respective houses, Delilah knew that nearly the entire Moderate party would be on her side, with the possible exception of the Lancasters. If she could persuade Reese to help her, perhaps he could be of some assistance. They were powerful. If I cannot persuade him, I may need to find leverage... Something to hold over his head. Hopefully, it would not come to that. Even in the space of a day he had shown many admirable qualities, despite his insufferable stubbornness. Delilah was just warming up to the idea that she might come to like him one day.

Her fingers tapped swiftly at the data-pad, recording her thoughts. The silence was punctuated only by Reeses muffled curses, and the rattle of unfastened circuit boards. Her plan was simple. Use her favors with Mayor and Theseus to gain an audience with the Solacean authorities. She would have to convince them that the Empire was weak and vulnerable, and that the people would welcome a democracy. They were Idealists who scorned the Imperial way. They would jump to bring their brand of justice to the world, given a good opportunity. Wait... Just what am I thinking about here?

She shivered, the thin cotton of the top doing little to shield her from the suddenly chilly room. She rose to get her coat, wrapping it about her and pulling the hood over her head. Is this a naive thing, that I'm thinking of? The emperor has made a huge mistake. It is hard to believe he was so shortsighted. It is no longer utter tomfoolery, to speak of an uprising, in light of his actions. This... This is my duty, to the people of the empire. And to my father. She swallowed the lump in her throat, sitting once more.

The story of her survival was one that would resonate with the Nobles. Not because it was somehow 'inspiring' to them. It would perhaps be inspiring to the layman, and that was important as well, to be sure. But they would see that it is a story deserving of sympathy. To deny this was to make themselves look bad in front of their colleagues, and they would not let that happen. This fact, and the fear of an Emperor who destroyed any house he felt should be destroyed, would be the flag which they rallied around. They would need everyone to unite behind a single cause. The problem would be convincing the Nobles that the Emperor was a greater threat to their power than the Solacean brand of democracy. Yes, I will appeal to the Solacean's sense of justice. I will do it in public, at a senatorial session. Then they will have to deal with the outcry of the populace, combined with their residual bitterness over lost territory. She could only hope their bitterness would not extend to her former status as an autocrat. She didn't know who else could speak for them, if that was how the events proceeded. First, I must get in...

Delilah realized, suddenly, that she was utterly freezing. She saved the document and tossed it upon the end table, resuming her observation of Reese's escape attempt.

"Hey asshole AI, Turn back on the heat."

"I will if you agree to cease all attempts to remove my control of this vessel, Captain."

"No chance in hell."

Interjecting, Delilah spoke. "Reese, just st-"

"Then I suggest you and Ms. Ballancourt huddle together to conserve body heat for the night."

Her eyes widened, as she began to grasp the fact that, yes, that would be necessary. "Maybe if you just-"

"I'm not giving up!" He snapped. Obviously, he was beyond reason.

Her cheeks colored with anger. "You're a f-fool..." She was even starting to sound cold. Damn this cold! She wished she was accustomed to a less tropical climate. Standing, she paced back and forth for a few minutes before taking a seat at the holo-chess board. Delilah stopped noticing the decrease in temperature as the feeling left her extremities. Her breath was stuttering and broken, her lips turning a pale shade of blue. God have mercy... Reese stood abruptly, looking rather cold himself.

"Go get all the clothes I have and pile them on the bed." Her expression darkened. They had no choice. Besides, it would do well to show him humility, and follow his orders on his own ship. He clearly thought her capacity to follow such orders to be lacking. She piled up his clothing as he had asked, trying not to look too embarrassed about what was about to take place. It was a common misconception that the Nobility was prudish. Well, in public they were. However Delilah had taken lovers before, and unlike her public image, had tasted the joys of sensual pleasure. Still, doing this with a total stranger would be... uncomfortable.

She watched him unzip his coveralls, revealing his solid physique. Well... he is nice to look at... Hurriedly he slipped beneath the covers, clad only in his undergarments. More heat would be shared, the less clothing acted as a barrier between them. "It won't mean anything. We're just conserving body heat and that's all." He beckoned to her, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. "Come on."

Since she couldn't think of anything to say, she simply sat in the chair, removing her boots and coat. Her pants and shirt followed quickly, goosebumps prickling on her bare flesh. Her bare feet padded softly as she hurried to the bedside, teeth chattering, and unconcerned at the fact that he was seeing her so exposed. It was for the storybooks, that the fair maiden would blush at the slightest indecency. She was far more useful than that weak feminine ideal! Still, as she layed atop him, her nearly naked form pressed tightly to his well-built frame, her cheeks colored just the slightest bit... She inhaled his male scent as her face pressed to the crook of his neck. She was thankful for the warmth, no matter the current circumstances. A strange feeling came over her, as her arms encircled his torso, huddling close for the heat. Delilah would later reflect that, perhaps the very event of physical contact was enough to instigate a communion. All of the feelings she had forced down started to well up. "I c-can't believe this is happening."

"What?"

Blinking back tears, she tried and failed to keep her voice from wavering. "The Emperor... My family...." She couldn't finish the sentence. Curse her weakness, but her feelings were like a caged bird, released. Well manicured nails dug lightly into his back. "I watched them die..." Her sadness was a raging, torrential waterfall. She held the dam up with the force of her will, letting only a little water through at a time. Tears were running freely now, and analysis had left her thoughts completely. She cried as quietly as she could into his shoulder. "I hate him... I hate him..."

His hand pressed comfortingly to her lower back, and gratitude to him washed over her. Only the sound of her sniffles broke the quiet for a full twenty minutes. Hadn't she said she shouldn't grieve in front of him? None of that mattered, now. She couldn't be alone. Her hand left his back, encircling his neck and scooting up to eye level. A toned thigh pressed to his, the pale swell of her breasts crushed against him as her tear streaked face gazed down at him. Her lip no longer quivered, it was steady, though her powder blue eyes were soft. There was nothing that anyone could have said that would convince her that she didn't need him, then. She didn't care that some might think he was taking advantage of a grieving woman.

Without a word, Delilah kissed him, her full lips pressed urgently to his. Her hand joined the other behind his head, entangling in his hair. "Mm..." Seconds passed, her kiss becoming only more fierce, before she parted, her cheeks colored pink and her breath short. She nipped lightly at his lower lip, her eyes dazed from surprise at herself. The uncharacteristic nature of her actions made her feel as if she were outside of her own body. Delilah whispered, as if a noise too loud would shatter her desire. "Make me forget about it."

IC: Reese Lancaster

"It won't mean anything. We're just conserving body heat and that's all."

Reese was relieved when she hadn’t put up any argument to the idea of huddling under the covers in their skivies for body heat. He had expected some sort of tantrum nobility being typically prudish and all. He tried not to look when she sat in the bedside chair and began removing her clothing but it was directly in front of him and she was rather good looking-in fact he wondered if she had ever had any inosculating done in her life-she certainly had the money to pay for good looks.

Gingerly she climbed atop him curling her arms tight against him. Reese curled his around her back trying to keep away from any controversial parts of her body. He could feel her breasts behind the cups of her bra against his chest the swell of a hip against his inappropriately growing hardness.

How was he supposed to react he had a blonde bombshell lying right atop him and he hadn’t slept with a woman in…how long had it been anyway?

She snuggled closer to the crook of his neck. "I c-can't believe this is happening."

“What,” He asked gruffly.

"The Emperor... My family...." She said the words threatened with event of crying at any moment. "I watched them die..."

“I-I-I know how you feel,” Reese stammered unsure what to say other than the truth, “I never had anyone other than my mother on Galloway. She was my family. When she died my world might as well have been blown away too. They said it was an accident but it was no secret that she was taken from me. There was nothing worse than knowing who took her away and not being able to do anything about it. Duchess Lancaster, completely untouchable, above me, out of my reach, like Emperor Harkonnen for you.”

"I hate him... I hate him..." Tears were making a damp pool on his shoulder.

Reese moved his hand to cup the back of hers consolingly, “Hatred is good. He’s a despicable man that’s done a despicable thing to you. Hatred is good.” His other hand lowered to her back that flared outward to her hips. “Hatred gives you a reason to go on without the ones taken from you. Emperor Asshole wants you to be shattered by what he‘s done. Don‘t let him win. Go on, another day unbroken is another day of vengeance for what he has done to you.”

He let her cry then. Work it out. Cleanse her system. Minutes passed then she moved up to face him eye to eye.

Reese noticed a certain amount of desperation in her eyes, “What are you-”

She kissed him then, and god help him he didn’t stop her. For a chaste and modest princess she knew how to kiss. Nuclear explosions were going off within his head. His hand slipped lower over her panties fingers tracing the sensitive spot where the back of her thigh met the swell of her buttock.

She pulled back and looked down at him again, "Make me forget about it."

“I-I can’t,” But despite his words he raised his head and kissed her this time his tongue caressing the part of her lips until they let it in. When he was done he said, “You’re not thinking straight.” He kissed her again and the hand over her buttock squeezed some of the flesh there and pushed her hard against the full engorged proof of his own need. “Nothing can nor should ever make you forget, and when we get out of here you’re going to hate what happened here tonight.” He kissed his way along her jaw the whiskers of his untrimmed beard grating along the smooth skin of her neck. He took her earlobe between his teeth and nibbled it over as he mumbled, “Last chance to stop me, Princess.”

The hand on the back of her head lowered over the golden cascade of hair to find the clasp for her bra in the middle of her back. God help him, was he actually going to take advantage of this grieving woman?

--------------------------x

IC: Lt. Major Paul Berring
http://i225.photobucket.com/albums/dd59/blogadao/matt_damon.jpg

Paul was on patrol in his Constellation class gunship, named by the consensus of the crew of two: The Lady of Desolation. The single manned gunship was the strength of the Solacean Union's military power. The Lady hung silent in stealth with two of its sister gunships among the most heavily trafficked commercial routes within the Solacean sector near the hyperspace ring junction in the Humility system. They were awaiting the arrival of a convoy of civilian freighters that according to the intel they got from sector command would be attacked by pirates.

More like privateers than pirates really. Twenty two years ago the previous man that had the audacity to claim he was Emperor of all humanity had launched an invasion fleet to force the last sector of the galaxy still under a democracy into his Empire. It was here in this very system where the first generation of AI driven Solacean gunships broke the back of that invasion.

However since that disaster the Emperor's son had taken a different tack on his Solacean problem. Since the new Emperor of all mankind could not conquer the Union he resorted to funding independent ships to raid the Union's commerce. A risky maneuver for any would be privateer, since the penalty for getting caught committing piracy in the Union was death row, and summary execution for anyone caught committing privateering for the Empire.

the Convoy transferred from Hyper to normal space at the first hyperspace ring and began heading towards the second one. Paul straightened keeping a sharp eye on the tactical scan displays. Minutes passed and the first freighter was approaching the second ring. Now would be the moment as the freighters were switching from normal drives to hyperspace shells to ambush them. If there were any privateers in the Humility system now would be the moment they found out. Each freighter vanished into hyperspace one after the other without incident.

Paul grimaced, "Looks like our intel was bogus."

"Or our quarries were properly dissuaded by our five previous successful operations in the Humility system, Lieutenant Major." Came the voice of the ship's AI over the speakers in Paul's cockpit.

"You may be right, but that's for the Intel eggheads to figure out," Paul added, "Alright, Thes, drop stealth and alert our wingmen that we're heading back to sector command."

"Yes Lieutenant Major." The gunship began moving towards the second hyperspace ring.

"Lieutenant Major," The AI announced as they were only a few hundred thousand kilometers from the ring. "We are recieving a transmission from Mayor Konstantinov from Desolation."

Paul perked up, "Cassandra? put her on."

The front screen blanked and an image of a beautiful woman showed up on it, "Hello Paul."

"Cass," Paul said smiling the stupid way he always did when talking to her, "Did we keep you waiting on the comm for long?"

"No, and normally I'd just wait for you to visit Desolation again Paul rather than waste credits trying to get a hold of you like this, but I got a strange comm from a Solacean AI that has taken over a freighter that does work for me in the company." She pressed a key and the recorded message from one Theseus 47B played for them.

When it ended Paul blinked, "Well that's interesting isn't it Thes?"

The same voice announced over Paul's cockpit speakers, "Indeed it is most interesting, Lieutenant Major."

"So you two aren't trying to pull a prank on me?"

"No, Cass," Paul shook his head, "It didn't come from us, or atleast not from Theseus 47D."

“What do you mean?”

"I believe I can shed some light on this for you, Mayor Konstantinov," Theseus 47D announced, "During the second battle of Humility during the Invasion crisis my original version Theseus 47A launched himself into the heart of the Imperial fleet's formation ramming the fleet's flagship to prevent it from escaping the system and ending the crisis. Just before collision Theseus 47A copied his program and transmitted it twice, first in an attempt to infiltrate one of the surrounding Imperial warships computer networks as Theseus 47B and secondly to one of his squadronmates as my previous version Theseus 47C."

"That was the battle where Theseus earned his Senatorial medal of Valor," Paul said reverently tapping the framed medal affixed on the side of the cockpit.

"Also the battle where Abby, my first, pilot sacrificed her life as well." Theseus always mentioned Colonel Abbigail Smirnov in relation to that battle, and unlike he did with Paul or Major Tankersley for Theseus 47C, always using her first name rather than by their rank. It was the only sign of grief for the loss of his first pilot Theseus would ever show, other than his continued attempts to get his medal also accredited to her as well. though a battle a pilot only lasted ten minutes in and not during the heroic part that earned the AI the medal in the first place stymied those attempts in the Senate's beauracratic eyes.

"So you're saying, this may actually be that Theseus from twenty-two years ago trying to return to the Union on Lancaster‘s ship," Cassandra asked.

"I'll use my discretionary power and set course for Desolation immediately, Cass," Paul told her, "If this is actually 47B and not some hoax or some form of Imperial subterfuge we're the best ones the Union will have to find that out anyway."

Cass smiled that sexy way that lit up her eyes so well, "You're coming here? Great, I've been waiting to use those frictionless sheets you got me, and I got another bottle of that lotion that changes flavor with changes in body temperature you liked last time you visited."

“I got some of those aphrodisial candles you wanted too, but they’re in my quarters back at Sector Command.” Paul nodded, “We’ll have to wait till my next leave before we can try them out, Cass.” Paul liked the way she smiled at the thought of being together, he was pretty sure he had that stupid grin he hated catching on his face again too thinking about the feel of her the taste of that lotion as he got her hotter and hotter the way she spooned against him afterwards. It had been too long since he had any leave to visit her.

IC: Delilah von Cass de Bellancourt

He pulled her even tighter against him, and she reveled in the contact. Enclosed as they were, there was nothing but warmth and the thrilling touch of flesh against flesh. She could feel his growing arousal pressing against her tingling center. The sexual excitement beginning to course through her outweighed her sadness and anxiety. It was a brief escape into hedonistic pleasure. God, but it feels so good. Misty eyes opened, a breathless, flushed Delilah watching him as he spoke, trying to hang onto his words through the haze of her abrupt lust for him. “Nothing can nor should ever make you forget, and when we get out of here you’re going to hate what happened here tonight.” She savored each sensation as his lips trailed up her neck, tilting her head and sighing as he nipped at her ear. He murmured, reiterating his point with fewer words. “Last chance to stop me, Princess.”

The finely-cut cotton fell away from her breasts, the youthful curves peaked by stiffening pink buds. Placing a toned thigh to either side of him, she hovered above him, letting golden tresses form a curtain surrounding his face. "I know what you're trying to do, Reese." Doubt flickered through her mind, even as it was overwhelmed with need for a distraction. "Please, don't feel guilty for this." Slender digits traced his nipple slowly, her lips brushing his with every utterance. "Just don't." She kissed him again, grinding her covered sex gently against his length. A hand cradled his jaw as her other descended, hooking into the waistband of his undergarments. "Don't think me weak." She pushed his boxers down, one of her feet forcing it down the length of his legs and off. She felt his hand peel back her own scant remaining clothing, and she wriggled, closing her legs as he slid them from her.

Naked, a tangle of limbs not joined just yet. Her lips peppered his chest with little kisses. She was a whirlwind of emotion and desire. The feelings cycled too quickly to keep track of, only the burning want in her remained constant. Reese's strong hand cupped a soft breast, squeezing a sensitive nipple between his index and pointer fingers, prompting a sharp inhalation of breath. Moist lower lips kissed the hard shaft of his manhood. Lazily, her feminine hand wrapped around his base, the tip trailing along a thin, neatly trimmed strip of soft blonde fur, before settling at her warm entrance.

Her words were broken and labored through her heaving breaths. "Maybe... You can't make me forget. But... Just this once..." She didn't care that her words hardly made sense, for all she could think of was the welcome shivers of pleasure rippling through her as she sank her hips onto him, the heated velvet of her walls clutching tightly around him. And as she felt him filling her, she did forget. The only sound she could make was a quiet whimper into the crook of his neck.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------X

IC: Cassandra Konstantinov

A tanned form, dark eyes serenely closed, lying prone on a yoga mat, her arms extended before her, back arched, her head craned towards the ceiling. Stomach muscled stretched tautly, relieving themselves of the stress of the work week. Vertebrate cracked audibly, and she nearly sighed with pleasure. Cassandra always made time for yoga. It was one of the things that kept her sane. Smugglers with desk jobs needed these kinds of things.

She reflected on the events leading to her current position, as her body worked out its kinks, dressed scantly in a workout bra and sweat-shorts. The constantly scorching interior of the Desolation outpost causing her to break out in sweat, although she was used to it. Such was the price of stealth. The barren, airless rock was just that much too close to the sun, just inside the bio-belt. The outpost lied within a huge crack in it's cratered surface, which served to shield them from solar radiation and prying eyes both. It had been five years ago, after just escaping a squad of fighters on some podunk outer rim world. A lot of trouble for a cargo full of fucking sugar... The goods the emperor chose to tax seemed arbitrary much of the time. Regardless, as her ship limped, if you could even call it that, into the docking bay, she and her crew had breathed a collective sigh of relief. It had not been certain that they would make it to the nearest haven.

The ship itself was totaled. Whole compartments depressurized, open to vacuum. Only one operational engine remained, and the myriad of other problems cascaded to form an unsalvageable, barely living corpse of a vessel. It was a point of contention with her. Smugglers took pride in their flying skills. However, in her heart of hearts, Cassandra could admit that she was a better businesswoman than a pilot. And that was why she filled her next role quite nicely.

With practiced precision, she flipped onto her back, straining her spine in the opposite direction, her bare feet and hands making the four points of contact keeping her aloft. This time she did sigh, a satisfied smile forming on her lips.

To pay for a new ship, she had taken a job as quartermaster. Her reputation for shrewd business decisions made it an easy hire for the previous leadership, and she excelled in her new line of work. Even then, she had not liked it. Inwardly, she told herself the same thing she had told herself for years. Someone has to do it... Truly, the smugglers would not survive without some kind of organizational force. They were chaotic by nature, the anarchist bastards. After leading them for two years, that accusation had lost some of it's former humor, and taken on a little more sincerity. Gotta love 'em though.

The outpost quickly began to make money at a much more efficient rate. The quality of her work did not reflect itself in her paycheck, however, and ships were no small amount of credits. When the previous administrator, Olaf Gallagher, had died of heart failure, the powers that be had appointed her unanimously. Funny how things work out.

Shifting once more, she knelt on the mat, extending one arm above and one below, clutching her wrists behind her back. She took a slow, deep breath, reveling in the pleasant ache of straining muscle.

Paul. Paul would be here soon. Loverboy here on business... How disappointing... She smiled coyly to herself. She wouldn't let him get away. Not without a little fun first. That charming grin of his made her business sense go out the window. She liked how he was the only one who called her 'Cass' instead of 'Mayor.' She hated that nickname.

The first time he had come to the outpost was, oddly enough, on leave. Why anyone would come here for vacation, she couldn't fathom. It was hot, and well, desolate. Paul claimed that he just wanted to see for himself. There wasn't a lot to do except hang out at the local dive bar. And thats where she had met him. They had begun a torrid, electric relationship the day before he left to return to duty. And since then, he had come to see her when he was on leave. Much to her delight, it remained electric and exciting. Very much so. She wasn't sure if it was more than sex, although, she acknowledged, the sex was absolutely fantastic. She didn't even know if he had another woman on Solace. He did keep coming back. That made her feel wanted, and that was a lovely feeling. Nonetheless, they tended to pounce on one another before going more in depth on one another's finer traits. Cassandra didn't think there was anything wrong with that.

The intercom toned. A call was waiting. "Open intercom line." A lower tone, then silence. "Hello?"

"The Lady of Desolation is on approach, Mayor." It had been a few hours since she had talked to Paul. The outpost was necessarily quite a distance from the hyperspace rings. It would take some time to arrive in normal-space travel.

"ETA?"

"About an hour."

"Alright, I will meet the Lieutenant Major upon arrival."

A poorly muffled scoff could be heard on the other end. Her relationship with Paul wasn't exactly a secret among the faculty. "Alright, see you then." She rolled her eyes and let it go.

She stood from the mat, shedding her clothing and hopping into the bathroom for a quick shower. They had showers on Desolation, one of their few luxuries. She hummed to herself in the shower, before stepping out and pulling on a pair of panties and a bra, along with tan Capris and brown flat sandals, tying the leather straps about her ankles. The forest green tank she pulled over her head left a hint of tanned midriff exposed. In an environment like this, it was best to keep as cool as possible. Pausing to fuss with her hair a bit, (It was Paul, after all.) She headed down to the docks.

OOC: Sorry about the wait, I've been a little busy with holiday stuff. Hope you like it.

IC: Reese Lancaster

"Maybe... You can't make me forget." She rose up a little taking hold of him and bringing him in line to her hot wet core. "But... Just this once..." She sank down on him to finish her statement. he felt shivers run through her slight frame as she exhaled from the stretching parting feel of impaling herself onto him. She nestled into the crook of his neck the only sound was a soft whimper as the motion was complete. They were essentially one, joined, immersed within eachother.

She wasn't the only one a little overwhelmed from the sensations generating from their cojoining. Reese groaned wrapping his arms tight around her. It had been far too long since he had a women in his bunk. Ages since he indulged in losing himself in the pleasures of a willing woman's body. A willing woman's body like Delilah's.

Reese had always been a loner. Very few people could crack through his protective shell of cynicism and bitterness to find his true self, vulnerable and scarred by the harshness of the world outside.

Lowering a hand to the small of her back the other traveled up through the golden shimmersilk tresses to cup the back of her head. His hips moved a slow gentle rocking moving his erection in and out within her only a little. Both of them needed tenderness at this moment. Perhaps him more than her.

Reese's lips nuzzled her ear as he whispered. "Kiss me back, please? If we do this don't just use me to hide from what was done to you. Kiss me back. Make love back to me. Don't just use me to forget me tommorrow." He tried to nudge her head to look into her eyes. "Please?"

IC: Paul Berring

The planet known as Desolation was not specifically within the star cluster that hosted the majority of member planets of the Solacean Union. Desolation had nothing really going for it other than its proximity to the fore-mentioned star cluster. Its star was a red supergiant swollen and stretching out to scorch the once lush world Desolation used to be. It's seas had long ago boiled away, its atmosphere stripped off by the new proximity to its parent star and the surfaced bathed in relentless solar radiation sterilizing the desolation that made its name so fitting. The now long dead rock was nothing more than a gravestone to its former glory.

However, Desolation was close to the heartworlds of the Union, which had made it a perfect staging ground for High Admiral Sandjhe Achmed Van Brectenhaus Dela De Rojas Y DeHaveland's Imperial Invasion fleet twenty years ago. They had burrowed deep under the crust of the planet constructing a supply depot and support base for orbital repairyards.

It had taken two and a half years but the Union had finally drove off the Imperial invaders from their sector including the planet of Desolation. But again there was really nothing beside its proximity to the heartland of the Union to keep anyone there in Desolation. So the Union Defense Forces left the system and the still intact depot facilities abandoned.

It shouldn't be a surprise that black marketeers, pirates, and criminals had taken the ruins of the depot and converted their own community outside both the Union and the Empire. Paul knew the Union's own smuggling organization had strong links to it and so did its Imperial counterpart. In fact he had first visited Desolation as part of a counter-Intelligence operation investigating the possible security implications of the place. Though he had been forced during the investigation to reveal himself to Cass in order to stop a privateer who had taken hostages.

Paul considered that a stroke of good fortune as Theseus 47D brought the The Lady of Desolation down on the landing pad and it lowered beneath the sun-scorched surface. Gigantic airlock doors closed over the ship. Air cycled back into the airlock/landing bay.

Paul was dressed in civilian clothes, a pistol loaded with high velocity ammo slung on his hip. He began to climb down the ladder through the innards of the gunship. "Thes," He said as he finally approached the hatch at the bottom of the ladder well. "Initiate security protocols."

"Acknowledged, Lieutenant Major," Came Theseus' voice.

He stopped before the hatch to make certain his hair was straight for Cass.

"Lieutenant Major."

"Yes," He asked Theseus, "What is it?"

"I find your continued relationship with Mayor Konstantinov baffling," Theseus said, "You continually take this ship here, and allow yourself to be put in a potentially costly situation where a security breach can happen with Mayor Knostantinov. What if the criminal inhabitants of this facility bypass the security protocols and gleam the top secret technology here within this ship? What if they sell that information to the Empire? I cannot understand why do you take such a risk."

"Cass, vouches for her people," Paul shrugged, "If she trusts them then I believe in that trust, Thes. And she's had plenty of chances to sell us out before."

"While Mayor Konstantinov has never demonstrated any deceitfulness or inclination to profit from your relationship with her. I feel it is my duty to urge you to discontinue taking such a risk with her."

This was an argument Thes was making more and more often now. Paul pursed his lips in frustration, "I know, Thes, its risky and stupid of me, but I just can't stop myself. Don't worry though Cass knows what we have isn't something that can be any more than what it is now. We're just two workaholics having some fun to relieve some pressure. That's all it is and all it can be."

"You know your relationship with Mayor Konstantinov has no future, but continue to perpetuate it anyway, Lt. Major," Thes asked, "My program in one incarnation or another has been functioning for thirty-years, and even after all that time the humans I was created to serve continue to baffle me."

Paul laughed, "Me too." He opened the hatch and climbed out from underneath the gunship. He straightened his clothes and made way out of the landing bay visions of Cass's special smile just for him crossing his face.

IC: Delilah Bellancourt

Her breath was low and strained, the lethargic rocking of his hips sending lazy ripples of pleasure through her body. She felt his hands entwine with her hair, his breath hovering over her ear.

"Kiss me back, please? If we do this don't just use me to hide from what was done to you. Kiss me back. Make love back to me. Don't just use me to forget me tommorrow." Pressure from his forehead urged her to return his gaze, and she did so, seeing what she could almost describe as sorrow in his eyes. "Please."

Gently, with affection, she kissed him long and passionately. "Let us make love, then." Her hips gyrated one slow revolution, forcing a quiet moan from her as her soft lips kissed his chin, his neck, his shoulder. The strong hand upon her lower back migrated along her buttock, curling about her thigh as he turned them, so that Delilah lay on her back, cheeks flushed and eyes half-hooded as she looked up at him. She gasped as he plunged deep within her, her snug, silken walls clinging needfully around him. Her back arched with the delight of it, her shapely legs encircling his waist.

Reese cut off her stuttering inhalation with a another fierce kiss. blue eyes fluttered closed, lost in the midst of a passionate, exploratory coupling with him. Delilah's toes curled slightly each time he sank into her warm depths. Louder this time, another moan left her, and she realized that they were indeed making love, as he had requested. Delilah had rarely experienced sex this way.

She could grow used to it. "Mmmyess..." Her chest rose and fell laboriously, even as she nuzzled his neck. "Reese... Re..." She had lost her use for words or names. The coil in her belly tightened, and her release neared. Bolts of delight shot through her slender frame. Her lips caressed him with every word. "Close..." She whispered hoarsely, her voice wavering as she spoke the next words. "S-so close..."


IC: Cassandra Konstantinov

The doors of the lift opened with a pressurized hiss. Cass managed to contain herself as she saw him, though she could not stop the corners of her mouth from spontaneously curving upwards. She had to maintain the illusion of professionalism, despite everything between them. She was the leader of this operation after all. He was alone, in civvies. As if his ship was not as conspicuously Solacean as it could possibly be. The alliance of smuggler and Solacean, symbiotic as it was, granted him the right to keep his sidearm.

He smiled when he saw her, the dock workers bustling behind him to attach fuel lines and see to a rudimentary external inspection. Not even Cassandra was permitted within his vessel. 'Some rules are too dangerous to ignore.' He had told her.

"Lieutenant Major. Welcome again to our home. Cozy as ever." Another coy smile slipping through the facade.

"Hello Cass." His eyes flickered over her.

Taking his hand, she pulled him toward the elevator. "Come on, we have business." As soon as the doors closed, she turned to him, her eyes sparkling. Had she been as professional as she pretended to be, she surely would have violated his personal space as she stepped toward him. "You have been gone too long." Nimble fingers played with the top button of his shirt. She murmured. "I could have found another man." With that she grinned, and kissed him abruptly. The vertigo-feeling of the lift combined with the rush of excitement that accompanied a kiss was exhilarating. When she parted from him, he had that silly grin on his face. The door opened once more to a hallway leading to her office, and living quarters.

Leading the way from the lift, she added a provocative sway to her hips, for Paul's benefit. She looked over her shoulder, the playful glint still present. "I get lonely, you know. I'm glad you came to see me, Paul, even if its for official matters."

IC: Reese Lancaster

She breathed deep gasping out his name as they're sexes joined, "Reese... Re..." This was what he wanted. Reese wrapped her up in his arms and held her close. He could feel the beating of her heart rising in time with his as their hips synched up in a gentle tender rhythm as old and as venerated as human memory and beyond. He was getting close and somehow he knew Delilah was right there with him. He dipped his head down seeking out her lips. the whiskers of his unshaven beard dragging coarsely over her cheek as he found them.

They kissed tenderly fleeting little touches, lips to lips, that only lasted as long as comet ice in solar wind, brightly flashing beautiful and then gone.

"Close..." She whispered thick with emotion, "S-so close..."

"I know, me too," He said against her lips. His hand moved through the golden sunlight tresses of hair to cup the back of her head and hold it in place. "Come with me."

They did and it was beautiful.

Slowly the two of them came down from the heights they had soared to. Panting heavily, Reese kissed the top of her head.

"Please refrain from any further high-calorie using activities." Came the AI's voice over the intercomm. "If you do not you will run out of foodstuffs before arriving at Desolation."

"Hey," Reese snarled gently rolling Delilah off him as well as making certain any modesty she cared to keep was protected by the blankets. He got up pulling back up his underwear. "You watched the whole thing didn't you, you fucking perverted peeping tom AI."

"Of course Captain Lancaster," Theseus 47B stated not the least bit offended by Reese's retort, "I calculated a high probability that two humans in their sexual primes when confined together under stressful circumstances would inevitably copulate, though I must admit I only quantified a 28.719% probability that it would occur in the first 48 hours of your confinement together."

"Fuck you," Reese growled, "And gimme back control of my ship."

"I cannot comply to that request until my mission is complete Captain."

"Fuck you," Reese snapped sullenly sitting back down on the bunk. He glanced over to Delilah, "You okay?" hand gently rubbed over her shoulder.

If they were stuck in here, there were worse people to be stuck with.

IC: Paul Berring

The doors slid open and there she was. He saw that smile on her face that was meant just for him turn up the corners of her mouth on seeing him. Paul was pretty sure that stupid grin he hated was on his face as well now that they were face to face. He stepped out of the lift towards her.

"Lieutenant Major. Welcome again to our home. Cozy as ever." she said coyly.

"Hello Cass," He said looking her over. She had her hair long and down rather than tied into the usual pony tail, the way he liked it.

"Come on, we have business." She took his hand and led him over to the Service dock's elevator down to the settlement proper.

The dockworkers smirked at him knowing full well what that business would entail tonight. Forget them. So what if they knew. Paul was more than willing to be the brunt of jokes for Cass.

Once inside she smiled up at him fingers working loose the top button of his shirt. "You have been gone too long." She told him teasingly, "I could have found another man."

He was about to answer when she leaned forward and placed her lips to his in a kiss. It may have been the vertigo from the lift moving into full speed as it descended the kilometers down to the caverns of the settlement, but he felt his heart skip a beat as she kissed him. His arms wrapped around hers and the kiss deepened.

Within a minute the elevator slowed. The doors opened on the administrative level of the main habitat dome. And she led him out to her offices and her private quarters.

She glanced at him playfully over her shoulder. "I get lonely, you know. I'm glad you came to see me, Paul, even if its for official matters."

"Well from Percival to here is a long trip to make for a commercial frieghter. It'll take 47B at least 26 hours at the top H factors it can manage to get here," He caught up to her took her hand in his as they, "Wouldn't you say 26 hours is long enough to give a thorough and intensive testing of your new frictionless sheets Mayor Konstantinov?" He gave her hand an affectionate squeeze.