Derek Adams's Story

Back in the CIC, Adams picked up the transmission from the watchtower.

"Watchtower A-432, this is Commander Adams. Transmitting authentication codes now. We have wounded aboard, requesting immediate passage."

Derek patiently awaited a response as the authentication codes were being transmitted and verified.

The watchtower pinged it's response.

"Authentication codes cleared, wounded acknowledged, proceed to Langara via Tal'dor, LDA is requesting routing to Themis Spaceport. Caprica City is locked down."

"Acknowledged. Proceeding to Langara via Tal'dor to the Themis Spaceport now," Adams replied.

---

"This isn't a discussion," Whisper replied. "I should go, we'll be on Langara soon."

She turned to leave.

The remaining trip to Aerilon had been uneventful, but Derek had been strict with his instructions to the foreigners aboard his vessel. The Aerilons weren't known for their tolerance of foreigners - even more so than the rest of Langara - and none of them were to leave the ship. They were there long enough to transfer the Aschen wounded off the ship, and nothing more.

The plan was to take the trio of foreigners on to Tawa, in Saggitaron, as soon as they were through in Aerilon. They would be marginally more accepted there than here. Provided they could get through the legalities and not land themselves deported back to Terra the moment they stepped off the ship.

Two of said foreigners were currently sat in the cargo hold where they had spent much of their journey, when not exploring the parts of the Aschen vessel they were allowed access to. Dressed in clothes of Aschen styling they had borrowed from Derek, the pair no longer stuck out like sore thumbs, at least not until they opened their mouths. The Orlesian accents the pair possessed were not as thick as Arrow's sister's, but were nonetheless distinctive enough for them to be noticeably foreign.

"A wonderful first example of Aschen hospitality," Oriel remarked, "A place so hostile to foreigners that our lives would be in danger if we left the ship. They know how to make a first impression, don't they?"

Arrow chuckled drily, "It reminds me of Maraésa's welcome for a mage. A heretic until proven innocent. And a painful proof indeed."

"I suppose," Oriel said reluctantly, shrugging.

"Every point of view has its zealots. Let us not pass judgement just yet." Arrow patted his friend on the shoulder, smiling.

As the ship made it's approach Derek would be hailed by the control tower of the Military spaceport.

"Blackbird this is Hotel Bravo maintain your designated course and proceed to pad seven for landing. Watchtower command has informed us you have three foreigners onboard, Confirmation?" The Tower hailed, as the ship made it's approach. "Additionally please broadcast verification codes immediately."

"Verification codes being broadcasted," Derek Adams replied from the CIC. "I have a hundred and twenty-two Aschen soldiers evacuated from Terra, and three Terran civilians aboard. The foreigners are being transported to Tawa."

There was a brief pause. "Verification codes accepted. Transfer Aschen wounded to AHSC Medical personnel to be given medical care." There was another brief pause.

"Terrans are to be transferred to Shore Patrol and the LDA Customs for paperwork verification and immigration checks." The Tower hailed. "Pad A-7 is ready to accept landing."

Once the ship had landed, the wounded were transferred off the ship in either stasis pods or stretchers. One by one they were moved to a waiting bus, which had been converted into a makeshift ambulance.

Arrow and Oriel however were greeted by a trio of armed Shore Patrol personnel, clad in green BDU Style uniforms.

A fourth person approached from the outside as well, a middle aged man in a well pressed suit. "I'm Agent Barrett with the Langaran Defense Agency." He said, gesturing to the door where a single black van was waiting for the pair.

"Search them and bring them into custody." He said, the trio of Shore Patrol personnel moving towards them to search for weapons and place them in binders.

Both Arrow and Oriel were unarmed, carrying nothing but the clothes on their backs, and the pair exchanged a glance before Arrow addressed the man who appeared to be in charge. "Greetings, Agent Barrett. My name is ... Alex. Alex Chevaleux." The knight decided it was probably best to use his more mundane name here, much as he loathed the association to his father.

"Oriel Garcia." Oriel added curtly, nodding his head.

"If I may," Arrow went on, "How long will we be detained? I assure you, we will cause no trouble to you or the people of this world."

"Ar- Alex," Oriel frowned as the men approached with the bindings, "I don't think-"

Arrow silenced his friend with a glance, "I'm sure that the Agent is merely following standard procedure, Oriel. We will, of course, cooperate."

Though reluctant, Oriel sighed and did not make any attempt to resist the bindings. Arrow too complied.

The Agent nodded, then started to lead them out with the Shore Patrol personnel in tow. The men kept their grasp tight on the two, escorting them to the van, another suit clad LDA Agent stood adjacent to the back of the van to cover the two's heads with black bags, obscuring their view for the duration of the trip, wherever they were going.

Four hours later the van came to a stop, the sound of doors thunking and men speaking in a strange language were heard.

The only recognizable word from the alien language was likely 'Caprica' which may lend some kind of evidence as to where they were going.

Ten minutes went by before an Agent moved to the back of the van, pulling the two out with rough hands and removing the black bags from over their heads.

The Bindings were subsequently removed to free their hands as Barrett stood before them. "It was for your safety." He said, the surrounding countryside had changed from Gaoth, now they were surrounded by rolling hills, and seemingly endless countryside. If the two bothered to look up into the sky, strange mechanical constructs loomed high into orbit, but were large enough to be seen on the ground.

"You two are members of the Patronus?" He said, taking some notes. "We're taking you to Promethea, where you'll board a plane to Caprica City, to link up with your other friend." He said, while an Agent went over Noah's stasis chamber.

"Why did you come here to Langara?" Barrett asked.

Though Oriel let out an indignant yelp of protest as the black bags were placed over their heads, a gentle touch from Arrow had him once again biting his tongue and fuming in silence. Oh, but Arrow was lucky that Oriel cared enough for him to let him take the lead. He would have been spewing curses were it anyone else, by now.

The journey seemed to take an age. The pair exchanged words only briefly to confirm one another's remaining presence. Arrow could sense Oriel's tension, and hoped that the younger man contained his frustration.

Thankfully for the both of them, he did, and when they emerged from the van it was with a mutual sigh of relief. "I understand." Arrow replied when Barrett spoke, though Oriel muttered something inaudible in a foreign language indignantly.

"We are indeed with the Patronus. My name amongst them is Arrow Flight," Arrow said, realising that Rhea did not know his other name. "And I appreciate your assistance. We came to Langara after a Taiyou sniper shot our friend in the stasis chamber, Noah Aldwell, a Terran and another member of the Patronus. Commander Adams saved his life, and brought us here, to where he suggested your superior medical facilities would be able to tend to his wounds where Terran hospitals would not."

"It seemed only fair," Oriel interjected, tone still irritated, "After we tended to your own wounded at our temple."

Arrow gave the gunslinger a sidelong glance, but said nothing.

Barrett nodded as the agent continued to go over Noah's stasis chamber. "Yes I was aware that the Taiyou had shot your friend." He said, moving towards the stasis chamber to give it a good look over, canting his head slightly to inspect the vital signs. "Unfortunate but that's the casualties of war." He said, a dull rumbling echoing in the distance, which slowly began to grow louder.

A few moments passed, and the deafening roar of a Reverence filled the countryside, the massive starship passed over relatively unhindered, shaking the ground and causing a hot wind to blow over them as it ascended high into the skies above Langara. As quickly as the sounds came, they had passed and began to fade, the ship and her engines no more than a glimmer in the distance.

Barrett moved back to the pair, shaking his head again as the other LDA agents moved the stasis chamber back into the large van, securing it in place with metal latches and closing the doors to the van. Barrett on the other hand had withdrawn some paperwork, and he slowly shook his head.

"I don't know if Commander Adams told you this, but Noah isn't an Aschen citizen, that much is obvious, which means he's not covered under our socialized healthcare program. Someone will have to pay for his medical treatment, and the costs to transport him here. Payment with the hospital is none of my business, but the Government will need to send someone the bill to transport him, and maintain your security." Barrett said, making his way towards his large, dark colored SUV, the iconic LDA vehicle.

"We're just outside Promethea." He said, gesturing to a small gap in the rolling hills, where towering skyscrapers seemed to peer over the verdant countryside. "And though we appreciate you providing a place to help our soldiers. I can't change the laws here, which is why we've arranged to take you and your friend to Caprica. There's a hospital in Delphi that can treat him."

Meanwhile in the CIC of a much smaller vessel, a Reverence S class, Derek Adams frowned briefly at the display screens overhead.

"No DRADIS contacts, sir," one of his men spoke up.

"Are you sure about this?" Derek asked the slight girl on the other side of the command table.

"Yes," Whisper replied.

She didn't need ships or machines to know that Dylan was near.

"Commander, there's nothing out here," executive officer Ian Marshal interjected. "We're wasting our time."

Whisper didn't pay the man much mind. She knew what she knew. Dylan. The name briefly crossed her mind, and no doubt he could sense her arrival as surely as she could feel his presence out here along the borders of Alpha Centauri.

Derek rubbed at the back of his neck and sighed.

"Do another sweep of the area," he told his men.

No one questioned the orders as they went about their jobs and another seemingly uneventful ten minutes passed by.

"Commander, haven't we humored the girl long enough?" Marshal asked before he was interrupted by one of the men.

"Sir, we're picking something up. It's a vessel of some sort."

"Open communications," Derek instructed. As he picked up the com device he sent out a transmission. "This is Commander Derek Adams aboard the Aschen Reverence S class, Blackbird, please identify yourself."

Whisper remained silent for the time being.

There.

Across the room, the communications bay started operating, the viewscreens altering to create a digital window. Ryder stood before the projector screen, the comm systems projecting both image and voice. His appearance was simple, a mostly unremarkable man. Black hair, streaked through with white, tinted glasses before his eyes. From one sleeve of a black trench coat was a hand of metal, the other gloved. The only insignia on him was a roman numeral, numbering 13.

"This is Councilor Dylan Ryder, acting field commander of Dark Rain forces, aboard the UDW Hypercarrier Black Blade. You're a long way from home, Commander." The words he wanted to say were left unsaid, for even at this distance he could feel a familiar presence. Stealth countermeasures disabled as navigation brought the titan out of its place, turning and slowly moving for the Reverence.

"What brings you out here, Commander Derek?" Muting the connection as his vox chimed in his ear, he tapped the subdermal. "Sir, sensors show-"

"I'm aware, Captain. We're heading on a bearing for the Reverence. You are not cleared for actions. Sit tight." The hardness in the man's voice hadn't been there years ago, nor had the lines that creased his face as he turned back to the screen, unmuting the connection.

"That would be you, Councilor," Derek replied to to Ryder.

He spared a glance to Whisper, somewhat apprehensive that in the wide expanse of space the girl had known just where and when to find this lone vessel which just happened to have the man aboard that she was looking for.

"We have a passenger on board who wishes to speak with you. A Jacquelyn Rose," Derek continued into the comm device.

"Tell him I wish to board," Whisper added.

Derek frowned as the comm device went silent in his hand for the moment.

"We're alone out here," he reminded Whisper. "Alone and far from home. Are you sure about this?"

"Yes," Whisper replied simply.

"Girl, you're going to have me greying before I'm forty at the rate things are going," he replied with a shake of his head before he spoke into the comm device once more. "Requesting permission to board."

If shock went through the man, it didn't show on his face. "Granted. Port bow hatch, activating guiding beacons now."

The ship slowed to a halt, stabilizing as a series of lit beacons streamed from an empty berth on the Black Blade. As Ryder left the bridge, the comm station remained active as crew streamed aboard. A floating panel followed the man as he strode down the passageway, catching a slide-tram towards the bow. "That explains how you found us. Risky move, coming this close without sending out a general hail."

"This part of space isn't as empty as it seems."

A few minutes later, Dylan disembarked and began walking for the designated dock. Crew and embarked soldiers stepped from his path carefully, giving crisp salutes he lazily returned. As he walked, he kept in communication. "So I hear the situation on Langara as changed radically. What of former agreements between UDW and the Aschen as entities?"

"I don't have the authority to answer that question Councilor. President Jarrod Kane is calling the shots these days," Derek replied. "But any arrangements made with the former Empire are likely void or subject to reevaluation under the new constitution. We're sending a transport ship over now."

Derek hung up the comm device before looking to Ian Marshal.

"Ship's yours, I'm going with her," he told the executive officer.

"That's not necessary," Whisper spoke up.

"Necessary or not, my orders are to keep you alive and get you where you need to be to find the McGregors. I'm not sitting around here twiddling my thumbs while you're gallivanting across the galaxy for gods only know what."

"Very well," she replied.

It didn't take long for a small transport vessel to be prepared and launched, and shorter still for its arrival at the designated hatch aboard Ryder's own ship. Only a small escort of four soldiers accompanied Derek and Whisper, and as the hatch door of the small vessel glided open the soldiers were the first to step out onto the ramp.

Fanning out to either side they made room for Whisper and Derek to exit the vessel next. It would seem that the young psionic had changed as heavily as Dylan himself since they had last spoke. There was a healthy glow to her skin, and a purposeful focus to her eyes, but the most notable change didn't lie with the woman's physical state, but rather the attire she wore. She was dressed in the grey uniform of the Aschen Special Project's Division.

Dylan stood alone in the room, the man seeming older than they'd last seen. More lines, grey in his hair. The greatest change about him, however was intangible. He radiated a will that was iron in its resolve, yet seeming more remote than it had been. He smiled at the sight of Whisper, not one to judge a person by the uniform they wore. "Welcome aboard the Black Blade, Commander Derek, Jacquelyn. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit and reunion?"

He clasped his hands before him, idly rubbing at the metal of his replacement arm. Inclining his head briefly, Dylan glanced to the soldiers momentarily, quirking a corner of his mouth upwards slightly. As if on their own accord, several of the cameras in the entrance hall turned away, a play of sparks washing over them. Almost offhandedly, he remarked. "And so are fulfilled the official welcome bullshit."

"It's been a long time, Whisper. I see the passing's been relatively kind to you, unlike myself." Ryder chuckled at that. "So what does bring you here, now that prying eyes and ears are dealt with?"

"I'm looking for help," Whisper answered. "Help, and resources I lack."

Whisper slipped fluidly to the point as she forsake the matter of diplomatic pleasantries as readily as Dylan. There was a pointed lack of an emotional response present at the sight of him or his prosthetic arm, and a certain element of detachment. The woman that stood before the UDW councilor was cold and calculated in her thoughts and purposes.

"Are you familiar with the Alterans?" she asked.

"I am, Whisp, though not in any detail. Individualistic, and pinning them down is...difficult." Dylan shifted just as easily to more direct words, crossing his arms. "I assume you need to track one or more down, then. Possibly more than that, else, you would have found a scryer, and not myself."

Moving the the wall, he tapped a recessed button, unfolding a console. Manipulating the commands smoothly, table and chairs rose from the floor. Taking a seat, he tapped another module, unfurling seats from the walls. "Please, sit, all of you. I envision this will take more than a few minutes to discuss."

Waiting for everyone to be seated, the councilor leaned forward, his hands folded together before him. "Who precisely are you looking for, and what do you intend to do once you find them?"

Whisper pulled a folder out from under arm and set it upon the table. Flipping it open she turned the folder around and slid it towards Dylan. There wasn't much to the contents, largely because Derek had been resistant to much information into their mission leaving the ship, but it did contain a small file on Raphael McGregor including a photograph.

"This man," she explained. "And that's not for me to decide," she added in response to his second inquiry.

"I need more than any single scryer can provide. He's blocking my efforts to get a pin on his location, and the galaxy is a big place for one person to search. Dark Rain has one of the largest concentration of psionics available, and a pointed dislike of the McGregor family."