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Lara Grove

Currently posing as a particularly tall Terran woman and under the name, Lauren Grove.

0 · 474 views · located in Terra

a character in “The Multiverse”, originally authored by Prose, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

Name: Grove, Anna-Marie
Alias: Lara Grove, Rachel Groveshkna, Lauren Grove (Current).
Species: Human/Capsuleer
Race: Azrick
True Age: 71 Terran Years Total
Apparent Age: 28 Terran Years
Gender: Female
Eye/Hair Color: Blue/Brown
Nationality: UCON
Faction Allegiance: N/A. Outlawed by UCON. Known Association with Oriyaks and the SSOR.
Rank: Civilian
Skills: Pilot with the ability to be reincarnated into drone bodies.
Occupation: Capsuleer/Star Ship Pilot/Arms Smuggler

Considering the theoretical and completely experimental nature of the Conductor system, another technology was required to provide an edge in terms of sustainability and survivability of test subjects. Without further procrastination, the "Capsuleer" technology was introduced after the combination of Aschen and Coalition computers.

Created from a batch of clones and grown to the exact replication of the subject, cloning and successful synthesis of test subjects were created to supply the Conductor program with exact, precise subjects to provide testing and improvement to the system. When one subject would die in whatever accident occurred during testing, a supercomputer rigged to a nearby sub-light frame would use an array of sensors including (but not limited to) thermal, gravimetric, electromagnetic, electronic, optical and neutronic sensors to take a "picture" of the subjects brain at the exact state before termination. Transferred through the sub-light array to a location in Yggradisil Fields, the picture will then be read by another supercomputer and then transferred through a nueral link into the unactivated clone. Following the transfer, nano-machines fifty times smaller than a single bacteria activated in specific pathways within the subject's brain reattach neural links and construct any unregistered pathways to recreate the existence of the brain to the exact moment of termination ... in another body.

Subjects are often Scatterran males exhibiting sufficient ability to interact with their environment and often pass the Counter Balance-administered RADOS Clearance Testing.

Personal Relations:
Maternal: Una Grove/Deceased
Paternal: Markus Grove/Deceased
Sibling(s): Unknown/Deceased
Romantic: Mathe, Silas/Husband/Deceased, Sheffield, Marcus/Alive.
Weapons Preference: Pistol/Rifle Combination

Physical Description:
Height: 6'0"
Weight: 148lbs
Physical Build: Muscular
Hairstyle: Straight, Parted to the Right.
Hair Length: Shoulder Length
Discerning Facial Hair: N/A
Discerning Scars or Physical Deformities: N/A
Discerning Tattoos: N/A
Discerning Augments/Replacements: The only noticeable augments on Grove's body are the tell-tale signs of being a Capsuleer created by UCON: the technical ports that line her spine and the largest one which rests at the nape of her neck which allow her to "hook up" to any available and/or compatible starship or information line, directly.

Biography: For many, biographies are sweet and simple. One life does not even breach the notion of difficult when it comes to describing the experiences had and shared. But for Grove the same cannot be said. Thus far the Capsuleer has lived four previous lives due to her unique quality.

In the First, "Lara Grove" was not who she has named herself to this day. In this life the woman was known as Anna-Marie. She was raised in a military family whose loyalties had always laid with UCON in a fierce manner. And when the time came, Anna too decided to serve but in a way that was very controversial. Anna-Marie became one of the First Generation of Capsuleers, humans that were altered genetically to be able to escape the grasps of death. This program was designed to be for those wealthy enough to afford an ability that would allow them to live several lives through the use of computer science, and genetic science.

Due to the nature of the program, Anna-Marie was not able to enlist in the regular or special military however when the option was presented to her as she originally intented. Many candidates in her research group were deemed "unfit for duty" and had gone insane when puberty approached. "Project Lazarus" in its first stages was incomplete and had failed it first trial. Anna, though, survived and remained one of the handful of study targets that surfaced on the other side unscathed. Her and the others were the only reason the program continued and has continued use. Anna-Marie was an icon for "Project Lazarus" and a poster child for the remainder of First Cycle.

On an unfortunate evening during a conference for a second trial for the program, Anna-Marie experienced her first death. Many had shown up for the event, either to support the idea of people being "copied and pasted" into clone bodies or to protest the "grotesque abominations". Anna was shot standing proudly on the stage with her husband, Silas, and murdered in cold blood by one of the protestors. Neither survived the affair, but Anna-Marie was reborn in a crude fashion into a new cloned body when her translight signal was sent to copy, save, and download. This single act was what made "Project Lazarus" highly successful and a few men extremely rich. Still to this day, many believe in the controversy that the entire event was setup in order to shed light on how "Project Lazarus" could be beneficial to UCON as a whole.

After six months of rehabilitation and a new identity formed, Anna-Marie clung very desperately to her sanity. Wishing to escape the harsh reality of her former life, the Capsuleer changed her name to Lara Grove and signed up to due what she was created to do: fly space craft. Lara instantly fell in love with her training, and would continue on piloting through each of her lives. It wasn't until her Third Cycle that Lara did something unexpected. The events which unfolded to lead her to the present moment made her an outcast to UCON, marked forever a traitor and outlaw, exiled from her birth space nation, and forced her to the farthest outreaches of the known Milky Way Galaxy. The question of if Lara regrets risking open war with the Aschen Federation, destroying one of their most prestigious star ships, and affiliating with the SSOR and notorious persons of various factions is an answer known only to her.

Persona: Simply put, Lara is Lara. She is and always will be human to a degree. The Capsuleer tends to still with her gut instinct instead of listening to rational reasoning. Her emotions range widely with each situation presented to her from one extreme to the next. One could say that Lara is head strong, speaks her opinions, and does whatever it takes to complete a mission even if it means she has to give up her life. The woman can be a bit manipulative and cunning to a degree but is not always successful. If seduction tactics do not work, currency is the language that all xeno-species speak, and money is something that she has rarely ever had to worry about being a Capsuleer; one of the rare who can pilot star ships like no normal human being can.

So begins...

Lara Grove's Story

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There was nowhere more exciting planet-side than the spaceport. Grove just soaked up the smells, the sights, the sounds, everything. Where most saw chaos and confusion, the Capsuleer saw a carefully designed orchestral symphony. The spaceport was her play ground and temporary home to what she considered her child; a CC "Heimdall" Class Battlecruiser which was an upgrade from her last Heimdall. The Gallante had been retrofitted for civilian use but this baby—this ship was military class. Not to mention stolen, but Grove wasn't about to point that fact out. The Capsuleer needed a ship and she preferred ones from UCON. For now, it was her pride and joy.

"Hey guy! Don't touch that! What the hell do you think you're doin' snooping around my ship," Grove yelled out at the top of her lungs while making threatening body gestures. It didn't take her long to rush over and push the curious man down on the ground harshly. "You don't just go up to someone's child and start touchin' their face and peeking under their clothes, now do you? You're molesting my ship and I outta place charges on you for invasion of privacy!" Grove continued on in her "gentle" tantrum while the man beneath her attempted to speak or apologize but never got the chance due to the woman's ranting.

It wouldn't be all that hard to pick Grove out of the crowd at all. Actually it was more than easy since Grove had decided to get into a wrestling match with the snoopy man and a circle of people gathered around to watch the show, cheering and placing bets on who would win.

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The beating that Grove was giving to the man wan't all that surprising. The man was shrimpy and did nothing but curl into the fetal position with his hands up in a defensive manner while Grove gave him a nice jab to the temple. That was sure to leave a ring in the spy's ear alright, the Azrick thought to herself. Wrapping her fingers around the victim's collar, Grove pulled him up and was about to headbutt the guy but a voice in the crowd forced her to hesitate. She scanned the various faces gathered around in the circle until she spotted Marcus. A mischievous grin splayed across her lips and Grove looked back down to the helpless man.

"Teaches you not to go screwing around and spying on other people's shit, you sonuvabitch," Grove said then gave the man a harsh shake which made him cry out in terror before she released him. The woman couldn't help but to laugh as she stood up. Dusting her flight suit off, Grove released a sigh and moved over towards Marcus. It seemed that the Azrick was in rough shape due to last night. There were bags under her eyes and a stiffness that was obvious in her back, not to mention her hair wasn't even brushed this morning and she made no attempt at even changing her clothes.

"Good to see you made it just on time," Grove gestured widely which caused another cry to spill forth from the beaten man. It didn't take him long to scramble up to his feet and run for his life. He was just admiring the ship!

"This here is the ... " Well shit. Problem number one just popped up. Grove hadn't christened the spacecraft yet. " ... is my ship and the love of my life. Its big isn't it," she joked around while giving Marcus a nudge and wink. "Packs a punch too when needed. You choose the right pilot to take you all the way into the Razorbacks, Marcus."

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The woman nodded after Marcus agreed with Grove on having chosen a good pilot and then she started doing something that no one ever enjoyed: rambling off every single feature the Heimdall held. It had this A.I. system, and that targeting system with blah blah defensive mechanisms and could hold that many drones. "... never got out of the chair—" Grove finally stopped speaking and brought her gaze around to the Terran. For a moment a look of shame came across her face, or even, embarrassment. Blush rose up on her cheeks and Grove tucked her hair behind an ear.

"I'd be lying if I said yes, Marcus, but its okay. I slept just fine last night and I couldn't be any better. Fit as a fiddle as they say," Grove responded before clearing her throat. She knew she looked bad—horrible even—but there was no reason to impress any man with the way she looked. If Grove set out to impress Marcus, she would do it with her piloting skills. That was what the Azrick planned on accomplishing. He'd at least get a good ride before—wait, no, that didn't sound right in her head. Best not to complete that thought but it was a fraction too late and curiosity had been piqued.

Grove's eyes snapped onto the Heimdall. "You're more than welcome to hop on board and get a feel for the ship. Just please, don't get lost on your way to the sleeping quarters. And no, even if the ship is this large, you won't find anyone else on it. Don't need one when you have someone built to pilot these things," she said while walking towards a table which had a datapad lying on it.

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"Oh," Grove blinked and looked over at Marcus. "Just ask Hellen. She'll direct you where you need to go and even activate a nifty trail of light along the floor for you to follow. I guess I should have mentioned that earlier instead of letting you stand there all intimidated," the woman said with amusement touching her words. "I'll take you up in a short moment. There are some last diagnostics coming in and I need to recheck the fuel levels. Better safe than sorry," she said while reaching into a pocket to pull out a short cord. Grove plugged in side into the datapad and then the other end straight into the nape of her neck. Instantly charts and diagrams of various status reports flew into the Capsuleer's view albeit Marcus would see none of it. There was no need to stare down at the datapad and the Azrick just seemed to stare methodically at the hull of her ship.

This was the first time that Grove was actually checking up on the Heimdall since she had "acquired" it not too long ago. That was an interesting story but not one she was ready to tell just yet, especially not with port authority keeping a close watch on her—the person they believed to be a Rachel Groveshkna.

"I'm sorry Marcus," Grove said with a sigh, and turned to him with a despaired look before dropping her gaze down to the ground. It seemed something was wrong, but what exactly that was was unknown for that time being.

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"Sure there is," Grove said while placing a hand on her hip and huffing out an annoyed sigh. "Last night ... I passed out on you while we were having a deep and meaningful conversation, I think. I don't exactly remember all that was said but I know that things were said. So, if I offended you in anyway, I blame the damn Stovnoski and its truth-serum-like abilities. Oh stars," she paused after making a realization," I didn't like ... come on to you or anything did I," she finished in a questioning tone. Though, if she was honest, Grove shouldn't blame herself as Marcus wasn't all that bad looking and his temperament was ... different. He kind of reminded Grove of her—Oh god. I'm thinking dirty thoughts about a man that reminds me of my father, Markus.

Grove didn't know it but a rather disgusted look came over her face while she stared at the Terran. It soon shifted into horror as her thoughts continue down that path for a moment longer. "I think I'm gonna be sick. We better ... go, yeah, we should just go get you settled in even though we won't be making the launch tonight. Still too many preparations that need to be finished, and some of the stock needs to be resupplied. Nothing to do with weapons, so it shouldn't take past a day or two," Grove said while intentionally keeping her eyes off of Marcus and while her cheeks flared up cherry red.

"... gross," she mumbled to herself while holding her stomach with her free hand and making way to the lift which would take them up to the entry hatch.

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"—No. Don't apologise, M-Marcus," Grove had a little difficulty in saying the name," its ... nothing to do with you." It was a lie, obviously. Whether the Terran was able to pick up on this falsehood was all left up to the level of his perception of micro-expressions and body language habits. Grove had a good poker face but it wasn't always good. "I think I just ate some bad breakfast or something," continued the lie as the Capsuleer hadn't even eaten all day due to the want to be out in space.

Reaching the hatch, Grove popped the airlock and ushered Marcus through into an extremely white room.

Decontamination Process Begin.


"Override," the woman simply said to stop the long and arduous process of crap that she didn't believe was necessary. People were meant to get germs and build up immunities. She had to do it almost every single time she Rebirthed and Grove hadn't once died from a virus or a communicable disease. Opening the internal hatch, the pilot rushed Marcus inside the hull of the ship where a long hallway lit up.

"Captain Groveshkna Onboard. All Han—"

"Oh hush Hellen. Show Marcus where the male quarters are and light up a path," she said before turning to the Terran. It was hard to meet his gaze squarely, but she managed. "Make yourself at home, I have a few things to do on flight deck and then down to maintenance deck. I'll meet you for chow. Hellen will announce when its ready, or when its supposed to be ready. We don't have a chef but its pretty easy to prepare meals onboard," Grove explained while a thin red line appeared on the floor and pulsed in the direction that Marcus needed to travel.

"Well, I'll be seeing you around. Feel free to explore," the Azrican woman said before taking off at a fast pace down the corridor in the opposite direction. Now it was just Marcus all alone in a Battlecruiser with nothing but waiting to be done.

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For the rest of the day, Grove had left Marcus on his own while she continued to prepare the ship to leave Terra. Most of it was spent shouting at bay workers who were delivering supplies. It was hard work to get a ship up and running as fast as the Azrick was without a crew, but somehow she was pulling it off. Grove had been around the block a few times and knew how to get people to hustle when the time called for it. Though, she didn't exactly understand why she was pressing so hard to get things finished. After all, this was a literal suicide mission. The sole purpose of this flight was to take Marcus out to the Razorbacks so he could do stars knew what, and die.

It wasn't until the Terran sun had set on the horizon that Grove made it back onto the ship and onto the flight deck. The woman sat in the commanding seat and propped her boots up on the console in front of her before closing her eyes. It wasn't too long after that soft snoring was heard. It wasn't too surprising that Grove had fallen asleep due to her hard work, and it was actually comical the way she was lounging limp in the chair, mouth hanging agape. The woman was an utter wreck.

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As soon as Marcus stepped foot on the bridge, the Capsleer began to stir from her nap. Just the simple shift in air density and movement was enough to alarm her back into a conscious state. It would have been a different story if Grove had not jacked herself to the ship—literally. Opening one blue eye, and then the other, she spotted Marcus admiring the grand-eau of the Heimdall's most exciting room. It didn't take her long to straighten up and run the back of her hand across her mouth, while planting her feet back on deck.

"I see you finally found me. Amazing, isn't she," Grove asked with a proud smile on her face, one full of excitement and confidence. Using the arms of her chair as support, the Capsuleer lifted herself from the seat. It was than that the connection Grove had to the ship was obvious; she was literally connected. Wires were plugged into the ports which ran along the woman's spine and transmitted signals from the ship to her own spinal cord. The thickest lay at the base of her neck which seemed to restrict Grove's head moment if not just the speed in which she turned her head.

And then with a simple flex of a finger, the consoles which surrounded them lit up and sprang to life. It was a beautiful sight for Grove and in her earlier years, it had always made her tear up a little bit when she stepped on the bridge of a ship.

"Now maybe you understand why I don't think too highly on death. I enjoy my job too much," Grove said with small laughter trailing behind. "Being able to pilot the best ships is worth a thousand deaths and a thousand more miserable lives."

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Marcus's question was met with great humor. Terrans were an amusing people. "Yeah," Grove started out," I can pilot any ship whether its outfitted for a Capsuleer or not. We were made for starships, but the more adept and passionate of my kind can pilot even the most ancient hunks of crap. We can do other things as well, but I won't bore you with all of that shit. Honestly, its boring," she stated while reaching towards her spine with a hand. Nonchalantly, Grove began to disconnect herself, pulling the plugs from her body with ease. It wasn't until she needed to pull out the mainline that the Azrick woman used both hands to tug it out.

A sticky clear fluid leaked out from Grove's access point which she apologized for."I'm sorry. Its gross to watch me do this. Usually it makes people who aren't used to it pass out or throw up. Especially since its such a long rod," she said while waving it around. It was at least a good four inches long. Grove set the instrument down and pulled a rag from her pocket to wipe down the back of her neck as her free hand powered down the bridge. As the lights dimmed down, she turned to Marcus and asked," You ready to go get some grub?"

It was like her stomach was just waiting for the mention of food. It gave a loud rumble which caused an unpleasant expression to cross Grove's face.

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Grove was more than happy that Marcus was willing to grab some chow. It would have been a bit depressing to eat alone on an empty ship so the company was valued. However, the Azrick woman still would have gone with or without him. It put a smile on her face and a little haste into her step. "Well, good. I haven't eaten anything all day long," Grove said which gave more suspicion to the fact that she had been lying earlier. "Who knows, we might even have a little alcohol on board if I am correct and that shipment came in today. I can't really remember. Its all a blur," she said while taking the lead and exiting the bridge.

Walking down what seemed to be corridor after corridor, Grove took a left into a wide cafeteria room lined with several tables. The kitchen lay just past a buffet serving line and the woman wasted no time making it into the cold storage units. It wasn't too long after the door closed on her that she appeared with two frozen bags of unidentifiable ... food. "I hope you're starving like I am and have a good appetite. We're having steak tonight!"

Grove danced her way over to the grill as happy as she could be. It was a side of the Capsuleer that no one ever got the chance to see aside from a singular person; a person that was left far behind in Lara's past. She even started to sing while the grill fired up and the steaks auto-defrosted.

"Never did like all that fancy cooking shit most ships have. I tend to stick with a good ol' fashion industrial sized grill and oven. In my opinion, it makes food taste much better rather then ... dehydrated or whatever they do to food these days to keep it fresh. Never was much into the science of it, I just like eating."

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"I suppose it does look empty. Usually I have a crew running around on my ships but I haven't had one since the glassing incident here. I was quite attached to that group. Very proficient and they knew what not to do, like touch things," Grove said before continuing," Though, I do have to admit, even though I'm alone quite a bit these days, there is a comfort in it. Not so alone anymore though." The woman smiled and stared down at the sizzling prime cuts of meat.

She then turned and took a long look at Marcus with a quizzical stare. Grove still could not figure this man out. Again she thought upon how she didn't understand the want to die without the ability to come back from it. There had been a few suicidal incidents on her ship before, but Marcus didn't appear at all like the others had. It must have been difficult for him to hide his pain so well. Grove released a sigh and turned back to preparing their meal.

"You know, I still don't know much about you. As I recall, I was the one talking more than you last night and that whole meeting was for me to get to know you a bit better. I think it ended up the other way around, don't you think, Marcus," Grove asked him while glancing at him in her peripheral vision.

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Oh crap. Grove didn't expect to be the one to have to ask the questions. She figured Marcus would have just started rambling on about things like she did. Not every person was the same and she realized this. Grove had just hoped she didn't have to be the leader in just about everything on this expedition, especially the personal things. Usually personal subjects were a two way road but it seemed that Grove always had to hold Marcus's hand and lead him in the right direction. Maybe that was just the way suicidal men operated; they didn't have any direction for life or even the more simple subjects like conversation—fear to take initiative, perhaps?

"Oh, uh, well, I suppose ... you could talk about your career in the Terran military. Like what you do, outstanding memories. Hell, I'd even settle just knowing your favorite color, I suppose. You're the one that said this ship looked empty, so why don't you help to fill it back up with some pointless conversation, hm?" Grove's tone was light and amused. It was strange having someone on her ship and not having to give them constant orders to have to appear as the authoritarian figure. It was refreshing.

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Orange. That was unexpected. Horrible choice of a favorite color, Grove thought to herself while poking at the steaks with a fork. Orange was a little happy for her tastes and a bit too bright. It was also not powerful enough in her opinion. Now the color red. That was a different story. Red spoke volumes by just existing. Her thoughts strayed from the subject of the visible light spectrum as Marcus began speaking about his military career.

Ilsa. Alexander.

Those two names mentioned and the following explanation made Grove come to the conclusion that they had been his family. It sent a pang of depression through Grove but she held her composure. The last thing the woman wanted was for dinner to be ruined. To turn her thoughts away from it, she threw herself back into the conversation at hand.

"So why no special deals? Most Terrans seem to join the military to become the most badass Aschen killing machine there is alive. I met a few and they ... well, let's just say that I didn't stay in their company for too long. Its hilarious when a Scatteran female can embarrass a Terran male like I did that day, but I won't go into that story. You're the one that supposed to be talking, not me," Grove said while forking the fat steaks onto a serving plate.

"Finally," Grove exclaimed in glory," they're finished and we can eat. I'm starving. Here, take this out into the dining area while I grab us a few more things and we'll continue the conversation out there." She didn't pause for one second to say anything more or give direction. Oh no, the woman was already fetching down a pair of plates and started to dig in a storage compartment for something else. Most likely it was alcohol as Grove wasn't too keen on vegetables, or anything that didn't come off of a living creature.

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It took a few runs for Grove to finally get everything required set out on the table that Marcus had chosen for them to have their meal together. By the time she was finished—which took no more than two minutes—the woman plopped herself down in the available seat, leaned forward and set down a familiar bottle down on the middle of the table. "That stuff is quite addictive. Every since Hadden," there was a hesitation before Grove continued," ... Ever since he introduced Stovnoski to me, I really haven't been able to stand much else. It may be Oriyak but they know their alcohol." Not even two seconds after she finished speaking did Grove have a large portion of steak shoved in her mouth. Literally, shoved in her mouth. Grove had many things left desired for her mannerisms. She was a capsuleer and she could do as she pleased.

That steak was the most delicious thing Grove had eaten in a long time. She may not have been some four star Terran or Azrick chef, but the woman could cook a very decent piece of meat. Grove could have almost cried from the it tasted. Hopefully Marcus was enjoying his just as much as she was.

After a swallow, Grove continued their conversation," So, why don't you consider yourself anything special? Is it because your Terran, or ... what. I'm curious to know. As for me, the whole world knows that I am full of myself but hey, given my profession, I think I have the right to brag and boast a bit. But I'd be lying to myself if I said that was the only reason. Sure its a reason to be proud of myself, but what a person does isn't enough. Its mainly my charming personality." She laughed and then returned back to her juicy steak, almost diving at it with her fork and knife like some predator on the hunt.

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"It seems from your point of view that being a rifleman isn't all that exciting ... but, from my point of view I think it sounds pretty special. Not everyone can point a weapon at another person or multiple people and shoot. My first time in combat, our ship was boarded and overtaken by pirates, whatever you want to call them. I was trapped by my hardlink into the ship so I couldn't go anywhere without harming myself or others. When they breeched the command room, I had only one choice and that was to shoot the enemy. But, when it came down to it, it wasn't me that fired the first shot. I came out missing half of my right leg, and two thirds of the crew."

"During that entire cycle I kept thinking to myself,' Would it have been different if I had grown the balls to defend the ship?'. Honestly, I still don't know the answer to that question and I never will. So you see, anyone that can fire at their enemy without hesitation is pretty ... pretty fuckin' awesome in my book," Grove said while musing on that memory a moment longer—as long as it took to fork down a few more pieces of steak.

"People are strange. They get stuck in one point of view and only focus on how they see things. I guess that's another unique thing about being a capsuleer, you understand how another person might not see things the way that you do. But that didn't come to me for a long ass time, probably not until I was in my fifties."

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The lack of a true response of Marcus was the tipping point for Grove. Her jaw clenched at his short replies and it was easily seen that her temper was flaring up into full gear. There was a loud clatter against her plate as the capsuleer released her fork and it fell harshly against the metallic material. She tore her gaze away from Marcus and settled it on the immaculate floor. It was an attempt to calm herself, but not more than ten seconds later did she bolt up from her chair, grab the edge of the table, and flip it sideways.

"That's it! That's fuckin' it. I am done. I am done, Marcus," Grove yelled out at the top of her voice. It was actually pretty surprising how much the woman could actually project her voice. "Here I am trying to help you fuckin' kill yourself because you're too chicken shit to deal with the pain you've gone through in your life," she said while rushing to him, whether he remained sitting or standing, so that her face wasn't but a few inches from his. "All I wanted was one simple thing and I would have helped you do anything that needed to be fuckin' done. I just wanted you to talk and open up to me, but you're not doing it, damnit!"

Grove made wild gestures during her entire angered rant, pointing at herself or at Marcus, and sometimes even waving her arms around like some lunatic. "I have spent two days with you now and poured out my fuckin' heart and soul and experiences and all the bad shit that I've been through as a capsuleer. Shit, if I would have known that you weren't going to man up like a real Terran, I wouldn't have said a damn thing in the first place and blown you off at that bullshit of a bar!" The woman wanted nothing more than to slap Marcus across the face and then proceed to beat the living shit out of him. It took a lot of will power to turn away from him, and take out her hostility on her chair instead. Needless to say that it went flying across the room and into another dining set.

"Damnit ... fuckin' ... shit!"

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#, as written by Prose
A groan came forth from Grove and she rolled her eyes with her back still present to Marcus. If even one look was given to him at that moment, she would not have been able to hold herself back any longer. The Azrick opened her mouth as if to say something but, she clenched it closed again. Even if she was furious at the man, it was always wise to choose the words that you spoke during an argum—no, fuck that shit, she thought to herself before wheeling around to face him.

"You're still fuckin' up Marcus. Even now. You do nothing but ask me what you should talk about when you should being doing that shit all on your own. You're afraid to take a damn initiative in conversation. I am trying my fuckin' hardest to help you out here, but I've made no progress with you at all. If you can't accept the pain that you are in now, Marcus, you're not going to be able to accept the pain of death. You may not think that's important but I," Grove said while slowing walking towards him, a finger prodded into her own chest," know what's on the other side and I know what your body and your soul gets stuck in after death. Damnit, I get to wake up from it and move on. I'm the lucky one. When you die, if you still hold all this bullshit inside of you, do you honestly think that death is going to be any easier than what you're going through now ... "

And for the first time since Grove was known by her true name, tears welled up in her eyes from showing emotion.

"Do you think that I didn't feel the same pain that you're dealing with right now when Silas died—my husband and the love of my life for seventy-one years to this day. Do you know how hard it is for me sometimes to not think of him every waking second of my life? Do you think that I don't still carry the memory of watching Silas die in my arms because I was something they were afraid of. Me. Not him," Grove said while the torrent of tears continued.

"You have to let it go or it will destroy you, Marcus."

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#, as written by Prose
The ring falling from Marcus's hand thundered in the ears of Grove causing the woman to flinch. It took only a glance down to see what he had dropped and it made her heart drop down into the pit of her stomach. Here she was, attacking a man for mourning the death of his family. Grove felt shame and guilt creeping up to mix with her angry and frustration, creating a nasty concoction of emotion. It had taken her several life times to finally realize that Silas wasn't coming back from the dead and that he wasn't a part of her life anymore. Yet, here she was forcing a man to release his grief in a fraction of her mourning period. She was such a hypocrite.

Grove's body relaxed, more noticeably at the shoulders, and then released a sigh. She wiped her tears away and studied Marcus while he spoke. "Damn it all," she muttered to herself while eyeing the ring and then she plucked it up with her fingers. "That's not what I was saying, Marcus," Grove said calmly. "You don't have to stop thinking about them. I think about Silas every single day and pray every night before I sleep that I get to see him in my dreams. You're looking at things from the wrong point of view again," she said while reaching for his hand. If he allowed her to touch him, Grove would place the ring into his palm while meeting his gaze.

"You keep thinking about how horrible it feels to have lost them and how wrong it was that they were taken from you. You can't think about their deaths, Marcus. You have to remember the life that you shared with your wife when she was still alive, and what life would have been if your child was still living to this day. That is what I mean by letting go—you can't wallow in grief for the remainder of your life. If there is some sort of afterlife and we're both wrong, you think they would want you to be behaving the way that you are now. In my opinion, I think your wife would be ashamed," Grove said, not afraid that her last statement could have angered him or hurt him.

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Grove rose up a hand at the apology in a flash moment of annoyance at the apology. "Stop. Apologizing, Marcus," she said assertively. "Take responsibility for your own damn feelings. You shouldn't worry about the reaction of others when you express them. Stand up for yourself," Grove lectured while stooping to pick up the spilt Stovnoski bottle. More than half its contents were gone but it was more than enough for Grove to achieve a more non-lucid state.

She rose the bottle to her lips and said," You know if I had known you'd be this much trouble, I'd have punched you in the face and walked away the first time you spoke to me," before tipping her head back and taking a good swig of the amazing strong drink. Grove closed her eyes after the harsh swallow and just reveled in the punch to her taste buds and the molten lava trailing down into the pit of her belly. She was going to drink until the world literally melted away so that she could get lost in old memories ... even if the ship was going to be ready to launch by tomorrow afternoon.

"So, are you sure you're ready to do what needs to be done, Marcus. Are you going to actually let all that negative shit go and accept that they're gone," she said while staring him directly in the eyes. "I am not going to let you die with all this grief. No one deserves to be stuck in limbo with nothing but those thoughts for all eternity. You want to see them again, the right way, you're going to have to stop remembering them for the wrong reasons."

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'It's too bad you're not a capsuleer," Grove silently thought to herself. It was easily enough to download and upload memories in order to view them again—keep the memory fresh so that they never faded into a gray fog. She didn't mention the perk for the fear of creating envy between them. Last thing that Marcus needed was the woman telling him she could see her dead lover anytime she pleased. Grove knew that it would crush him even more so than the man already was at that time.

"I know how you feel," Grove said while placing her free hand on his shoulder as if to comfort. "I would do anything to see Silas again as well."

After saying that, the Azrick didn't know much else to say. Silence grew thick in the mess hall once more. It was the first time Grove felt lonely on a ship.