Intergalactic Space

Markuss had sat on the bed, his head buried in his hand, staring at Lazureth as he had stopped at the door and spoken, almost a perpetual frown on his face. His leg had nervously bounced up and down as the door had closed and sealed shut. The fact that they were leaving him in there was a little more unnerving.

He hadn't really anything to interject.

His arm had dropped into his lap, and he swung his legs up on the bed and faced the wall. He was prepared to sulk for a while.

It had been hours since Lazureth left the room, allowing Markuss to sit in the room alone.
No doubt growing signs of infection were showing themselves. Hot and cold flashes, muscle pain, slight fever and an occasional tremble in a limb would manifest themselves, more just signs of discomfort this early, rather than wracking pain that would come later should his condition remain untreated.

The door to Markuss' room would suddenly open, allowing Lukas to walk in, he looked disappointed.
He walked over to the chair where Lazureth sat earlier, plopping into the seat with a groan.

"I thought you had more sense than this, mate."
He said in a sullen, depressed manner.

Markuss hadn't been able to fall asleep between the hours that Lazureth had left him alone to himself. He had practically ignored Lukas' entrance until his friend had spoken up, and only then would he realize it was Lukas. He felt ill and ill-tempered. He sat up from the bed and swung his legs over the side, before shooting Lukas a look.

"Yeah, my bad. If I had known th'choice was either to get forced t'rot in a room t'deaf er get exorcised I mighta reconsidered." he quipped, half serious. "Nice t'see ye too, Lukey. Glad yer alive, mate. Happy t'help, too. 'Aven't caught up in a bit. 'Ave a beer?" he continued to talk, there being an obvious biting sarcasm in his voice.

He had felt a pain in his stomach suddenly, and doubled over, giving a hiss. It took him a few minutes to regain his composure to sit back and look at Lukas. "So no hello fer me? Not happy t'see me eifer? Y'look good, mate. I look like some kinda one-armed ginger Jesus f'at's sick as a dog, I bet. Ain't given me a razor er any'fn, n'I'd like my clothes back too, but I s'pose I can't be a chooser."

It was pretty obvious that he was morose as hell, and Lukas was getting the blunt of it.

Lukas orion 's face hardened at the assault of sarcasm coming from his friend.

"No one knew what was happening that night, NO ONE. I wouldn't have sent ye in there if I knew it was gonna be like this.
I gave ye many outs, you were always willing to come, I didn't FORCE you.
But the way yer talkin' and spewin' that poison at me like I am the cause of this? That's low, Mate.
You helped a lot of people that night, and I carried you for sixteen hours while we were trapped on that shitheap.
I thought you could be left to do a simple screen and be let go.
Hell, you were even too hard-headed to get along with [b]Lazureth for fuck's sake.

I'm happy to see you're alive, mate yes.
I'm disappointed to hear that you don't trust us... Or me... "[/b]

He shook his head in obvious frustration, burying his face in his hand, wiping his brow.

"I shouldn't have let ye come, I'm sorry. That was a serious mistake on my part.
I thought you could handle it, maybe I was wrong....

Markuss had shot up from the bed, fist clenched. "I can't handle it? Ye bloody serious, mate? Y'kno who couldn't handle it, yer folks bein' pulverized n'shot up n'yer folks shiftin' over t'the dark side, THOSE people can't handle it!" he pleaded. "I can handle it jes as much as any other bloke, y'got it? Just 'cause I don't trust yer Lazarus buddy t'do an exorcism on me don't mean I can't handle it," he quipped, make it obvious that he was offended at the notion. His face was nearly red.

"Believe it er not Lukas, people don't really get exorcised on Terra every day. I'm not one of your crusader friends, that shyte doesn't really sit well with me. So I'm apprehensive, that comes as a surprise t'ye? Ye gloat so much about how yer th'most human'a yer friends but ye've got a long way t'go befer that happens!" He exclaimed, before sitting down and bringing a hand to his temple. He was feeling a little dizzy from the excitement. It hadn't occurred to him that the statement was overly harsh.

"Don't treat me like I'm a child either Lukey, I'm a grown man and I cin make my own decisions, fer fucks sake."

Lukas orion Shot up from his chair, roaring at the top of his lungs.
"Some of my friends.. DIED that night ye callous GIT! WE MAY NOT BE FULLY HUMAN ANYMORE BUT WE KNOW HOW TO HONOR ONE ANOTHER, WE AREN'T MACHINES, WE BLEED JUST LIKE YOU."
Ultimately the pang of pain caused by Markuss telling him he was far from human hurt the most.
He turned, and headed for the door, resting his hand on the opening mechanism, pausing to turn and talk to his friend one more time.
"Aye...." he said, nodding in agreement.
"I'm not human, never will be again. And you aren't one of my crusader buddies...

I did contact someone to help, been working on it since ye got here and he finally agreed to come.
He'll set ya right, and afterwards we'll get ye a shuttle to Terra, and you won't have to worry about us again."

He pulled the lever to the door, opening the door.
Six crusaders in gold armor piled into the room, taking positions on either side of the door and standing at attention.

Inside strode a massive man, massive even by crusader standards.
The Father of mankind entered the room, leveling his gaze onto Markuss.

He was an awe-inspiring sight to behold, nothing save for his size seemed to be unusual with outward appearances but the being before him exuded an aura of majesty, one of a progenitor, creator, one could sense they were in the presence of a being of great importance.

Already Markuss' ailments had begun to recede, the demon inside of him recoiling from the presence of the anathema.
As the room was filled by the light of his being, a warm, soothing sensation filled the room, uplifting all those who were in the room, save for the demon, of course.

The bearded, ancient gave Markuss a kind smile and nodded his head. He need not say anything, Markuss could almost sense the man's presence in the air around him, feeling a great sense of ease wash over him.

The door closed behind Lukas, as he exited the room

Markuss had shrunk as Lukas stood up and yelled, only then taking into consideration that he may have gone a little too far. His eyes had guiltily shot the the floor and his head had hung, and it'd stayed that way for the rest of the time Lukas had spoken. His leg had nervously shot up and down. He'd felt guilty.

As the door had opened and the golden-laden crusaders had piled in, Markuss looked up. The Father was a sight for Markuss as well, he had gone to wonder if the man was a bona fide giant. It was intimidating, to say the least. Which didn't go to say that Markuss had felt apprehensive -- no, for some reason, the man's presence was more assuring than uneasy. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it had caused his head to rise and him to sit back.

It was considerate enough. Of course, The Father's presence hadn't exactly washed away Markuss' guilt for what had just transpired. He drew in a deep breath and called out to Lukas.

"Lukey, wait, m'sorry, okay?" he had said, being interrupted by the sound of the door closing by Lukas as he had left the room. Markuss' lips had pursed, and he shook his head, before ultimately paying attention to The Father, who had enough of a presence to capture him. The arch of his brow was raised in the middle, he looked almost pitiful; a little more alive since the head crusader had entered, but pitiful nonetheless.

He gave a half-nod toward The Father, and a forced smirk. "Yeah, 'ey, buddy," he'd vaguely said, before his eyes had traveled back to the other golden crusaders in the room. "What exactly's gonna 'appen here?" he'd asked.

The Father 's eyes never broke contact with Markuss.
And though his voice seemed to resonate from every corner of the room his mouth never moved.

"Markuss Jonavich, You are known well amongst my children."
As the words were uttered from the immaterial world Markuss would almost feel the creature cringing and clawing its way to distance itself from the presence of The Father.
"From this moment on, your soul will be sealed from the influence of these dark creatures, as it flees your body your spiritual wounds will be healed, and your body will become resistant to the influence of darkness.

Be still..."

He raised his hand, palm facing up.
Momentarily Markuss would feel a rush of energy, and hear the faint screeching of the creature as it was torn from its host, feeling cold and naked without it's new home.
It manifested in front of him as an orb of dark purple energy, coming to hover above The Father's open palm.
As the demon was expunged from his body Markuss would feel as if new, fresh energy would rush into him, the pain in his shoulder, the symptoms of his weariness and fatigue would melt away and be replaced with renewed vitality.
his physical appearance would show to match this renewal process, yet he retained his overgrown beard.

The orb writhed and spasmed, as faces rose to the surface, displaying hate, agony, and sorrow before receding back into the inky, black orb.
It suddenly disappeared in a puff of black smoke, as the father clenched his fist, destroying the demon's essence utterly, only a faint squeal could be heard as the creature uttered its last sound.
"You are free of the creature's taint. You are free to go.

Blessings upon you."

And with that The Father offered another friendly smile and a nod before exiting the room with his guards.

Lazureth stood at the doorway, with Markuss' belongings in arm, as well as two large items of luggage.

Markuss had broken eye contact to look around the room as The Father's voice had resonated from every corner of it. "Aye, right. Resistant t'darkness is'a good perk. Thanks, then," he'd said, now sporting a respectful tone, an obvious contrast to what he was doing earlier. He had learned his lesson with Lukas, and certainly didn't feel like fighting anymroe. His eyes had quickly traveled back to The Father's just before he uttered the final syllable of the last word he would say to him before the demon was expunged.

The process of it all was quick and painless enough. His face contorted into disgust upon seeing the inky black orb. Perhaps he should've just went with the exorcism after all, that was a nasty thing to be keeping inside of him. He had felt significantly better than he had a few moments ago when it was just Lukas and himself in the room -- no muscle aches, hot flashes, fever. It was gone. He might have even checked his shoulder if it weren't bandaged.

His brow had furrowed. It was curious. He vaguely wondered why they didn't bring the man on trips with them, or why they hadn't. He had looked back up at The Father as the man had began to leave, only snapping to attention then.

"Oh, right, okay. That was easy enough. Er, blessins' ty'e too? It was nice meetin' ye?" he'd almost inquired, but soon enough, The Father was out of the door. He was only replaced by Lazureth, and Markuss was entirely unsure of whether The Seer actually wanted to see him or not. He stood up, and then stopped in place. An awkward scratch of the nape of his neck was given, before he had approached and taken his belongings.

"Aye, I guess I'm headin' back. If I don't see Lukey on the way, tell'm I didn't mean what I said, aye? Kinda got into it a bit," he'd said to lazureth, as if he'd thought the man actually cared. His eyes had drifted to the luggage. "W'sat?"

Lazureth, The Seer Gave Markuss a courteous nod as he approached him handing him his clothing and other personal belongings he had with him when he was admitted to the Ark.

"Well..." he said, exhaling deeply.
"These are some odds and ends made for you by our forge smiths, I'm sure you will find them built to your specifics."

Inside he would find a perfectly balanced blade, as well as a pistol and rifle bearing the crusade's seal upon them. They were weapons fashioned of similar make to the crusaders, however sized for use by normal human beings.

"The other case holds a laurel, and other medals you earned during your part in the campaign.
We honor each deed that leads us to victory, yours included.
Inside will be some standard issue items, including a communicator, which you may use to contact certain individuals with should you ever need assistance.
You will also be assigned a living quarters on the Ark, you have earned your citizenship.

And yes, I will convey the message, Master Jonavich.
Whenever you are ready, I will escort you to the launch bays, the shuttle awaits our arrival."

Allison Black walked into Gambit's in her dress black Navy uniform. She looked around and let out a sigh, before sitting down. She tugged at her collar, before closing her eyes.

"She's opening up," came a voice over the intercom of the SPS Canebria. It seemed male, but for some reason, it seemed scaly.

The ship was fairly small, all things relative considered. It was imposing, though, to anyone that could hold a dime in their hand. Thorn-like designs jutted out of the space vehicle at every space where they could go, and the dull yellows and blacks that lined themselves in design played a stark contrast to the unending voice where the ship seemed to take place. But it was not alone.

The SPS Canebria kept close underfoot to the tradeship that the crew seemed intent on plundering. In comparison, the trading ship was bigger, surely, but not by a lot. It was more of a strategic move than anything. They wouldn't appear on radar, but any dolt with eyesight could pick out a spiked yellow ship from a black background.

"Just like your mom, last night," Another voice sounded, from the intercom. Male. Vaguely human.

"Quiet, you two." A female voice said, as she boarded the upstairs pilot room. "Get the shuttles ready. Hunter, you're coming with us, for this one. Grab a rifle, and let Tella have the wheel."

The trade ship, having had it's system's comprised, would submit to the command of SPS Canebria and open it's loading dock. Soon, shuttles were off, and the closed vehicles of the space pirates that boarded them took to the vulnerable dock. The vehicles were compact and shielded, and not yet did they open their doors.

"How many of them are there?" came the smooth, dark voice of the female mercenary that had been aboard the trade ship. She had been hired by them to protect the ship, however...she hadn't exactly had the treatment expected.

Even so, she went down to the loading dock, the Tesla Rifle in hand as she quietly looked around a stack of crates at the entrance, waiting for the pirates to make their way out.

She slid around the crates smoothly, biding her time.

There were several ships, though they aligned next to eachother. Surely, there couldn't have been more than four. They were armed to hold five people at a time, but it would show that some only held three or four. When the ships of the shuttles slid open in unison, the people on board the trade ship would come to realization they they'd certainly packed their limit.

First, hands extended from the ship, and meek heads. They threw grenades, which sparked and sputtered when they'd landed. Then, they exploded, sending fragmented bursts of electricity in all directions. When their pulses subsided, a commanding female voice shouted,

"Keep the bay open! Lodge the doors, and drain the oxygen!"

Soldiers exited the shuttles, then, grouped in threes. With standard rifles, they fired on any sentient being that didn't shoot their hands above their heads that remained inside of the docking bay.

It was then that Ariel made her move. She touched her fingers to her visor, which zoomed up onto several pirates, and aimed her Tesla Rifle toward one, firing several rounds at them. Electric bullets sparked as they landed, whether it be in someone's body, or on a flat surface.

"Boom." she whispered, climbing the crates until she came to the top. From there, she crouched onto her belly, trying to keep out of sight.

There were a lot of them, and Ariel was not sure she would be able to take them all herself. A thought passed her mind...

Were they willing to take another merc with them, wherever they went? It wasn't as if the captain of the trade ship was paying a significant amount, and she was not fond of staying there for the next six months. Doing nothing.

"Slide your weapons away, put your hands up, and kneel if you don't want to be shot!" The female voice growled again, as she made her way to the front of her crew. Her demeanor was tough, and so was she. Her weapon soon trained itself on the mercenary that ever willingly immobilized and incapacitated her ranks.

She looked back to the soldiers, one of which who spasmed on the ground. Another fleed back into the shuttle to recuperate.

She continued firing at the woman, and slowly drew closer. A few soldiers moved to the doors and began an attempt to get them open.

The mercenary fell back behind the crates again, fishing against her belt for something useful. Her hand gripped around the cold, steel handle of the acid whip. She smirked.

"Might not want to get too close!" Ariel warned. "You'll get worse than electrocuted! Are you here to hurt the crew, or just to steal the goods? The latter might work better in my favor. After all, I'm only here to protect the people aboard the ship. If you promise me you won't be doing anything else, then I have no reason to fight."

Commander Gesa stopped in place.

"We're here to take the goods, but if your crew waves a gun at us, we're not taking bullets from anyone. We'll stop advancing on you when you put your hands up, your weapons down, and get on your knees."

She stepped backward, and thumbed a grenade on her belt.

"My crew? Hardly mine at all. I've just been hired, and for shit pay." Her hand slithered from the acid whip, and the woman, regrettably, dropped her utility belt. It clattered to the ground.

Not that she was unarmed. The Second Skin Battlesuit was enough for her to use. Bullets were still deadly to deal with, but she would survive through them. Not only that, but she had the energy beams that could easily charge up around her hands if they made any sudden moves.

She came out from behind the crates, visor still over her eyes.

"Looks like you got me."

"Mercenary?" Gesa mimicked. She kept her pistol trained on the woman as she'd come out, though raised a hand to the headset that embedded itself into her helmet.

"Hunter. Find a terminal and pull the intel files. If they have any information on a..." She trailed off, and looked toward Ariel. It was a request for her name.

Soon, a muffled voice sounded in the Commander's ear, and one of the soldiers behind her moved into the pried doors.

The woman tilted her head to the side slightly. "Moore." she replied flatly. "Ariel Moore. Intergalactic mercenary."

They would find a great deal of information on the merc. She was certainly good at her job, from the amount of completed missions. Back when she had been a dry, humorless woman.

Back when it mattered that she needed to carry something out justly.

Now, the woman did not even turn her head when the pirates entered the doors to rob those who had hired her to prevent this very thing.

"Ariel Moore is right. ID and everything, 'Mando. Isn't a diplomat or anything, if that's what you're worried about. Pretty clean switch, if you ask me. Get what you pay for, I guess," Hunter said, as he'd returned from the room beyond them. He grinned through his helmet at the woman, and coyly tipped his head in her direction. "They feed you somethin' wrong here?"

Gesa, however, nodded at the arriving man. She moved past the woman and lowered her gun, to find the utility belt on the ground. The other soldiers were seated behind the trading ship staff, guns alternating between keeping up at the woman or down on the people they were terrorizing. Others poured in and out of the rooms with loot.

"Could use her," Hunter insisted. "Clean record, though."

"Mercenaries with clean records don't switch so easily."

"Psh. Have they fed me at all?" Ariel spat, her lips twisting into a sudden frown. "My own ship was blown up on Terra. I allowed myself to be hired by these people a few months ago just to get off the planet without the Aschen paying too much attention. I'd say trust me, but that would only sound like a plead."

In their minds, anyway. And she wasn't desperate to get off the ship, it was just preferred. "A clean record means I'm only predictable, right? It would make sense."

Though it was entirely a lie now. After Kane's betrayal, the word "predictable" left her vocabulary entirely.

"Are we ready to leave?" Gesa asked.

"Got the goods. Important ones, anyway. Didn't get much information off the computers, but there should be another ship on the same route we could hit," Hunter replied.

"Your things will ride on another shuttle, and he'll ride with you." She said, turning to Ariel, then. When she'd said 'he', Gesa thumbed at Hunter. "I'm sticking Hunter with you until I feel like you can be trusted. He's a competant enough soldier, so I don't suggest you pull anything."

"The woman doesn't lie. Almost got shoved out an airlock once, myself. Not too sure myself about being like, a babysitter, though. Except I'm babysitting a trained killer-baby with knives."

"Who has knives? I'm not even armed." she said with a smile, hands still up. If that man tried anything, his ass was fried, and there was no way they were getting her to take off the Second Skin.

"I'd advise you not to mess around with my weapons. Just store them. Make sure they're safe. Or else you're going to be very regretful. This is me helping you. Making sure you don't melt a hole in your ship by accident."

She adjusted her weight on one foot, the visor memorizing details that she could not at a first glance.