Jacob Clarke's Story

Giving a shrug, she formed up with the others. "Aye 'ave no reason not to bunk up with ya." She almost added that she'd rather that than get left behind, but decided against it. "Aye think I can 'andle bein' with a bunch of guys." Being with six brothers growing up, you learn that modesty was a privilege for the privileged.

She would follow the rest out, her hand still around the axe that Davis had given her. Folded now, of course.

Marcus gave a foppish toss of his hair to the side to get it from his eyes so he could meet hers with his and offered a simple, "I was impressed by your captaineering. Maybe you'd could give some advice to someone fresh to the field. Maybe over dinner some time?" His eyes twitched off to the side for a moment as he noticed others leaving, but such a sudden action was only to prompt his next words; "Or maybe another time. You're probably busy and people look like they're leaving." 'They' being everyone. He straightened up into a more formal posture and gave her a short, sharp salute, in preparation to leave her presence.

Cor stood by herself after Sliver had walked away. She wanted nothing to do with the others that had been saved from Foundations. As soon as they were all done chatting with this supposed "commander" Cor was going to be on her merry way. Her eyes flicked over to Sliver. An unreadable expression came over Cor's face.

What was the point, she told herself. They were probably never going to see each other again and it was for the best. There was a certain curiosity about him but Cor wasn't going to pursue it any more than that. They were two different people heading in two different directions.

"Let's get this over and done with already," Cor said in an exasperated tone. She stood with her arms crossed over her chest and eyes fixed on nothing in particular.

Clarke and his soldiers tightened their prospective bags around their shoulders, the marines made their way towards the bottom of the ramp. Clarke stopped, pressed a finger to the side of his ear and brought up a crimson holographic display with a flick of his wrist, moving his forearm in-front of his face.

As the hologram loaded, Davis turned to Alex. "Only the baddest can apply, you hard enough to man up and blast till the last man stands?" The marines laughed, one of them punched Davis on the shoulder. "Don't give her that shit, she hasn't even trained with us yet, she could kick yo' fuckin' ass y'know." The coughing marine almost choked. "Yea, not like your sister or those brothel gals'."

Clarke's hologram gave way to a three dimensional face. "You made planetside yet, Clarke." "No, sir. We've made contact with the commander's ship, have yet to meet the man, other mercenaries involved, picked up a new recruit." "Good." The face looked past him at the rest of the people around them. "Fill me in later."

"Wait, sir. We need a new suit shipped to us." "Consider it done, Clarke." The hologram disconnected and Clarke lowered his arm and finished walking down the ramp. "

Captain Solid gave Marcus a long stare, her expression completely hidden behind the full-head helmet. In a moment of protocol breach, she reached out and grabbed the man by the scruff of his shirt and pulled him closer. Marcus would be able to barely see red irises peering at him through the visor.
"If you're coming on to me, Captain Marcus... don't. You couldn't handle me if you tried," she said huskily. Releasing him, she went back into a lockstep.
"Count yourself lucky if we don't meet on opposite ends of the next battle. Now get off my ship before I have to throw you off." Despite her harsh words, Solid did have something of an amused tone behind them. She also didn't wait for him to leave before turning on her heel and walking back down the corridor to one of the side rooms.


Once Marcus had returned to the rest of the group, Sliver nodded to the man and gestured for everyone to follow him. The man led them along a winding path between starships, large groups of mechanics pilots and marines, and a few large power or fuel modules busy preparing the ships.

Most of the ships in the hangar were fighter class, with a few being light freighters or shuttles. All of them, whether they had been initially designed for combat or not, were fit with a wide array of weaponry. A keen eye could see that most of them were primarily kinetic projectiles, with very few advanced laser or beam weapons.

The largest ship in the hangar was a light Frigate. While the Herald was a large vessel, Frigates were not in the design specs to be landed on it. And yet, there it was. It looked like a completely custom model, maybe even built in the ship itself. The front was all sleek lines and smooth curves The back was a crazed collection of blocky modules and harsh corners. Most of the weapons seemed to be fit to that area, forward facing or not. Whoever painted it must have been colorblind, or didn't care about the color of the ships it had been amalgamated from. Most of the front was red and black, with the rear being a deep purple with a few splotches of gray and blue.
It was the ship Sliver was heading towards.

"Martellus," he shouted over the din as they came closer. "This is Solid Three, we have your package! Where're you-" he paused, seeing a pair of legs struggling out from a hole in the hull.

Dropping out, the owner of the legs wheeled on the group with a severe expression on his face. He was a grizzled old man, lines of age and laughter thick on his face. His scruffy beard told a busy tale, matched only by his short, wild hair. Despite his age, he looked fit enough, with enough muscle to probably knock out a Marine if it came down to it.

The harsh stare broke when the man saw sliver. Breaking into a grin that fit the face much better, he marched forward and took the man's hand forcefully. "I don't know which of you bastards Solid Three is, but it's damned good to see your armor again! About time, too."
Light brown eyes flickered across those assembled, from the group of armored Marines, over Cor and Deirdre, and ending on Marcus.
The smile waned slightly seeing the motley collection. He looked them over again more discerningly before he gave Sliver an eye. Sliver just stared at him, shrugged slightly, and gestured around.
"These are the people we had time to get. We had a situation at Foundations that prevented us getting to your preferred clientele. I assure you, though, these folk will do just fine."

Martellus scoffed, waving dissmissively as he took a step back to look them over again. "Alright, give me some names and preferred duties. I'll start," he said gruffly.
"I am Chief Engineer Martellus. I see about keeping this wreck of a fleet flying strong, and maintain all the wargear for the Marine troops. Commander Teryn couldn't be here today, but you'll meet him soon. 'Till then, you can consider me your almost-leadership figure." A wry smile crossed his face.
Sliver took a step back out of the bulk of the group, to let them take center stage.

Deirdre followed the group through the ships. Her hands clenched and unclenched. So many ships. She had been grounded too long.

Sliver led them to one of the oddest looking ships Deirdre had ever seen. It appeared to be pieced together. She raised an eyebrow as the group came to a stop.

A weathered man made his presence known by slipping out of the ship. Deirdre’s mouth twitched as he looked the rag tag group over. She instantly liked the man. He was the sort of person she was used to working with. He seemed no nonsense and up front. That was something Deirdre liked. He also had a smile that spoke of experience.

Deirdre almost let the smile break as he looked over group and appeared less than impressed. The looks and comments between the man and Sliver were even more amusing.

Chief Engineer. Made perfect sense.

She waited a moment to see if anyone was going to answer. There was a moment of silence. With a shrug Deirdre stepped forward a little.

“Deirdre Sheely. I’m a pilot. Nice to meet you Chief Engineer Martellus”

Her golden eyes shifted to the other pilot, the other woman. She wondered how the woman would take knowing that there was more than one pilot in the group.

Cor trailed behind everyone in the group. Her eyes wandered around and saw the various ships and shuttles. She was impressed. It was a great collection. Her favorite had to be the one that was pieced together in a hodge-podge fashion. Cor didn't allow herself to fall in love with it.

As the two men spoke to each other, Cor remained apart from the group and uninterested. Her arms were still crossed over her chest. She refused to even appear communicative.

When Deirdre introduced herself an idea came to Cor. She pushed someone aside and came to the front of the group.

"I'm just a person that wants one of these shuttles to drop me off planetside. You don't need to know my name because I don't even plan to stay here. I don't want to be here anymore nor do I want anything to do with any of you," Cor said to the engineer. Her eyes flicked over to Sliver for a brief second.

Cor felt awful for what she had said but she did mean it. She wanted nothing to do with him or the fleet. There was no point. She wasn't staying.

"So if you can arrange that I'd be appreciative and I can work off the debt. I know some mechanics. I could probably help with your project there," Cor said as she gestured to the patch-work ship.

"All I ask is that you drop me off on a terrestrial planet," Cor said to Chief Engineer Martellus.

Alex gave a cocky half grin to Davis, following him down the towards the bottom of the ram. “Dunno, although if ya wanna test me right here’n’now, we can have a-go and ya’ can see for ya’self.” She half teased. Davis was trying to intimidate her, trying to get her to quit. She would prove that she was more the bull than the rider, but wouldn’t go as far as insulting the man. Not yet, at least. She knew nothing about them except for their names, their looks and a little of their past.

When the hologram fully loaded and started talking, Alex fell silent and listened, hoping to get some information as to what this group was up to. Unfortunately, she wasn’t given squat, and as the hologram disappeared, she actually pouted a tiny bit and followed down the rest of the way. Well, he did say there might be rival mercs around.

As they got to the bottom of the ramp, this Martellus guy started off about introducing themselves yet again. Another awkward moment of just being new to the group and not knowing her place yet and so she kept her head down and her lips zipped for the time being. If it came down to it and he insisted that she give him a name, well then she'd say then. He might be considered a leadership figure, but as far as she was concerned, Alex followed Clarke's orders.

Clarke smiled back to the chief engineer and folded his arms. "Nice to meet you, engineer. You get any combat training with said gear?" Clarke asked, tracing his eyes around the shipyard and putting a hand on his side. One of the mercenaries behind him laughed and turned to Alex, there was a painting of hands going for his own neck on the shoulder-pads of his armor and a black cross on the side of his neck.

Davis opened his mouth to say something, looked at the people around them and closed it again and held out a finger in warning. "Next time." The scotsman replied, turning his painted head away and facing Silver. One of the other Judicators, the one with the cough chose his time to walk off into the ship in the search of a toilet.

Clarke turned to Cor. "When you fix it, are you going to yell for people to close the doors on them too?" The mercenary snarled, he was beginning to see why she'd been mocked on destroying that other ship. It wasn't easy to gain his respect, it was even harder to get into his good books after something like this. "Don't worry, not like it was a matter of survival, right?" Clarke put a hand on the knife strapped to his shoulder.

Mercenaries were all the same.

A widely-grinning Marcus sauntered back to the group, only to realize how large his smile one and brought it back down to 'smug'. Catching the introductions going off he slowly moved towards the front, retrieving his captains hat from his bag and slipping it onto his head. Arriving before the engineer he saluted.

"I am Captain Marcus Turner at your service," he announced loudly and boldly, chest puffed out and chin held high. The smile had since dropped from his face to a serious and somber stare, trying to give off the impression of military competence in front of everyone around him. "Best in my class three years in a row at the academy and ready to serve where needed. Give me a capable pilot, loyal crew and steady ship and there's nothing I can't achieve."

He let his salute drop to fold his arms and give Martellus an estimating glance up and down. "If you have something specific in mind, point me in the right direction."

Martellus made a point of shaking each person's hand, starting with Captain Marcus. Each of the Marines would find their hands taken by his at one point or another. Even Clarke, whose hand was hovering on his weapon, had said hand gripped and firmly shaken.

The Engineer stopped at last on Cor, and did not take her hand. Instead, the grizzled old man simply looked her up and down briefly, sizing her up. "Don't want anything to do with us, eh? And you assume I'd want something to do with you, first?" He looked at Sliver. The man seemed uncomfortable, judging by his posture.
"Where the hell'd you pick this joker up, Solid? She looks more like she'd be climbing out of a dumpster than a power core." Martellus laughed. "I'll get back to you on your 'request,' but for now just take a seat over there while I check out the real crew." He gestured to a half-disassembled radiator unit resting on its side near the ship. Its guts were strewn about all over the place. Sliver, saying nothing, followed close to Cor.

"So I've got a properly respectful Pilot, a bunch of Marines, a Captain, and a fresh torpedo-slash-Mechanic. Better'n sending me sticks and sludge, at least!" Martellus laughed grimly, then nodded to Clarke. "I'd be lying if I told you I can't defend myself, but I'm a better fixer than I am a fixer, if you follow."

"And as for you, Captain," Martellus said, finally returning the man's salute, albeit lazily. "I got a run of ships for you and your Pilot to choose from." He nodded towards Deirdre, assuming she was part of the package.
"For now though, I'll give you all a bit of a briefing. Even the unwilling ones," he said, still deciding to give Cor a hard time.
"We've got a Pirate ship coming through here, loaded with prisoners, according to the intelligence our good friends the Solid family have given us." He gave Sliver a nod.
"Mostly seem to be Civilians taken for hope of a ransom, they've got a few more useful types as well- captures Marines, Pilots, Captains, the whole gamut. We're expecting at least a few would be willing to sign on with their saviors, as it were."
"Now, we're also expecting it to be a pretty heavily guarded ship. I expect we'll have a good fight on our hands, but nothing the fleet can't handle... any questions?"

A small nod came from Marcus head, a nod of understanding to match the face of leadership he now wore. "I won't be so presumptuous to think I know my pilot better than she does," he said with a toss of his head to the side. The wrong side. His head was aimed at Cor, but close enough. It wasn't like they had been formally introduced yet. "Why don't you lead us to ships, Martellus, and the pilot can pick what they know."

"And only one question from me. Is there no chance of negotiation? A peaceful surrender? I'd rather not risk the lives of hostages by being aggressive." he asked calmly, arms now rising to fold in front of his chest as he started to shuffle to the side, as if to allow the rest to offer their own questions.

She shook his hand inwardly noting the firmness of the handshake. Deirdre was a bit distracted however by the other pilot’s comments that she wanted to leave. For a person ready to jump into the pilot seat when the shuttle was still loading the woman seemed keen to be as far from the group as possible now. Deirdre wondered if it had to do with the female marine or the armoured man, Sliver that she kept glancing too.

Deirdre stood off a little as the engineer, Martellus completed his handshakes and scrutinized the woman. She winced a little at his comments but knew it was not her place to say anything. If the woman wanted off then there was obviously a reason and Deirdre was content to let others deal with their own shit. She had her own neck to worry about.

She did find herself smiling though as Martellus began talking to the group at large again. Deirdre found herself instantly liking him. There was something about him that just seemed to make her more confident with the whole situation. On the shuttle she had been confused and a bit nervous at what she might find when they landed but Martellus instantly made that all go away.

Her golden eyes flickered to to the Captain as Martellus referred to her as ‘his pilot’. Neither of them knew each other, had never flown together so she wondered how Captain Turner would play this. She was willing to follow his lead providing he didn’t make too many assumptions.

Deirdre’s ears perked up at the talk of a pirate ship. A familiar stirring in her stomach began. It would be a good flight and she longed to get behind the controls. Her foot began to tap lightly in impatience. She wanted to fly and fly now, to chase down the pirate ship and catch them.

Her eyebrow raised as Marcus gestured with his head towards the other female pilot as he spoke of letting his pilot choose the ship.

Deirdre’s back straightened a little. Her tongue ran along her teeth. ”Alright...I think it might be time for cards on the table cause this shit is getting annoying. She held no ill against them but she had no patience for this sort of thing when it wasn't needed. She had a great poker face, could play a great game when needed but right now didn't seem like the time for holding back information. Nothing to be gained by not showing your hand.

The question of surrender was a good one but had nothing to do with her. A pilot’s job was to fly and fly well the rest was the crew’s job.

Clearing her throat Deirdre lowered her arms from her chest. “Not to put too fine a point on things but I don’t know Captain Turner more than being stuck in the shuttle with him. If he has a preference for pilots, either her or I that is fine.” She gestured to Cor. “I just need to know if I am flying now or if you have use for me somewhere else.”

She looked to Marcus and Cor, her hands raising a little in a gesture of small apology before turning her attention back to Martellus. “I am willing to fly for any competent captain on any working ship I am just curious as to this particular flight.”

Deirdre honestly didn’t care if Marcus wanted to fly with the other woman. Maybe they knew each other maybe they didn’t and it didn’t matter she just wanted to know what she was going to be allowed to fly.