The world of Earth was dying. So many people lived upon her surface until she could take it no more and screamed out ‘no more!’. Great storms flew up and the worlds weather turned wild. There was plagues and natural disasters. Man faced his darkest hour and in that moment they found it. A distant star, around this start were worlds capable of supporting life. All they needed was to be properly prepared for human life. They were perfect. Even the hours of daylight were similar. 5 worlds were perfect another 6 in the solar system were suitable. Even the moons could be shaped to take human life. There was a great vote across the world and it was decided that the best and brightest would go. They would carry the torch of human life and civilization, they travelled for many years in stasis. Thirty five years later the terra forming crew awoke and relieved the now old crew who had seen them through to their destination. It would take another five years before even the first few planets were ready to take life. Then another four before human life could exist on the surface. The inner planets finished over half of the people were awakened from their slumber. With more people to help the terra forming of the other planets was achieved faster and life flourished throughout the solar system. The outer planets remained less populated but once everyone was awakened pioneers took to the lands.

Ten years later and technology had leapt forward, with the best and brightest from earth there was nothing to hold back the new human worlds. Ten years on though there was still people struggling on earth and they built ships. They had built huge ships of war and set out to find the new worlds. When they arrived the others would have welcomed them into society but they didn’t want to follow the new rules. They didn’t care for conservation and careful living. They were wasteful and angry at being left behind on earth. They attacked and took over an icy outer planet. This sparked outrage and so the war began. The new world people called them selves the Aquarians after the star system behind which the solar system had hidden itself. The old world people called themselves ‘Free runners’.

You are a part of a flight crew. This flight crew is contained within a large Carrier ship called The Torus. Within the Torus are a dozen fighter ships each named to suit its pilot, the pilots themselves are interesting characters. The captain of the Torus has a crew of five which get live with the 12 pilots. They are a family. A family that flies out between the outer planets fighting any Free Runners that they come across. They fight to protect the pioneers on the planets and keep the peace.

The Aquarians take their war very seriously but also it’s a chance for the rejects of society to find their place. The Torus vessel is the least favoured and most unloved vessel in the fleet. Its tough as nails and the misfits call it home. The government sees the need for such rouges but it doesn’t mean that they like it or the people on board Torus. The sign of the Taurus is most opposed to the Aquarius sign as many people pointed out upon finding out the ships name. If you are assigned to the Torus you are resigned to getting supplied late, being ignored by high ups and running into the people that the politicians are not so kindly disposed to. This is why the ships crew is close. They are all the same except maybe the few poor souls supposed to keep them in line and flying.


Everything these days is done with care and the environment at heart, the only thing that was put over the environment was the war. Those involved with the war were expected to be inventive and resourceful. They had limited resources at the best of times and given that they were above the normal rules they were double expected to make do with what they had. Being beyond the normal limits and ways of the Aquarians meant that they had extra responsibility to make sure that everything they had was put to use. Its hard to make war when you have to recycle almost everything and make parts from nothing. Those that fought were the most amazing people. The free runners threw everything they had at them showing a reckless abandon and resourcefulness to match their opponent. Only the free runners cared far less for rules. Their resources were stolen, bullied and salvaged of anything they could get their hands on. Alive, crimped or dead, it didn’t matter.

The carrier is equipped with a shield that response to a layer imbedded in the fighters metal hulls. This wraps the shields around the ship and lets it slide through the shield without the need to lower it. This also means that each fighter must lower their shields to pass through the carrier. If any shield touches another is spells disaster for the two fighters involved. Shields require power to run and are raised only in battle, the need for them however is clear. You either keep your shield up and your ship moving or you are dead in the void. Weapons are both projectile based and energy based. The latter is seen more often on Aquarian vessels. The higher class ships have far more of these as well as just about superior everything. Torus is an older vessel modified for war and her fighters are the later models but still run with the personal modifications made to them. Each fighter suits its pilot. The carrier herself has a thicker hull than your standard carrier ship, she handles like a flying brick in atmosphere but in space all things change. Under the right hands Torus can preform miracles that the Aquarian government hardly thinks possible. They grudgingly admit that it is well seasoned and proven in capabilities. The vessel is a front line ship and expected to hold its on with or without back up. Usually without.

The carrier is a very large vessel its huge cargo bay houses all the fighters and has a quick vent system installed to take it from atmosphere to open space in a blink with minimal loss of air. The cargo bay sits in the belly of the beast. The ‘fat arse’ of Torus belongs to the engine rooms and a few guns dedicated to keeping that arse safe and whole. Above the cargo is the quarters of the ships. The helm is a busy area with everything a military vessel needs. On the level below is the kitchen and below that training room. Also in this area is the infirmary. There is a secondary cargo hold which can if required open but it is usually held closed filled with all the cargo needed to keep Torus and her fighters flying. The ship has many more areas which are spread through out. She is longer than she is wider and her engines are more powerful than really needed for her weight and size class. This is a bonus in battle but means they need to be watched to prevent any overloads. Like all older ships she has quirks like the sealed off corridor section that remains a mystery above the sleeping quarters. During battle the whole ships doors are usually sealed to prevent too much atmosphere being lost if damage occurs. The escape pods on the ship are nearly always prepped and ready to go just in case. That’s the lifestyle on the frontline. “Be ready. Or be dead” as the free runners say.

Clementine Alexandria Ol'Huges sat sitting in the training room trying to meditate and calm herself. She was neatly sitting cross legged with her eyes closed in her mind she was mentally running over a piece of music that she had memorized. She loved it but it did little to calm her, usually it did but not tonight. Tonight was was restless and angry.

Clementine known to the crew as Min jumped to her feet again without warning. She ran a hand through her cropped short hair once again enjoying the feeling. She had kept it long whilst she was younger but once beyond her parents or maybe before she had left she had chopped it off. Her mother had wept and her father yelled but hey it was just hair. Min looked around. She detested her nickname but it was better than mini. Min was short for mini but like hell anyone was going to call her mini and not get bruised.

Min looked at the punching bag that was hanging innocently in the middle of the room. She sighed and then spun and kicked it savagely. Her brother was so annoying. She was furious at him. He had changed so much from the man she remember. Or rather the boy. He had become stiff and hard. Cold and nothing she did changed it. He was turning into her parents more and more. No now that she thought about it he was worse. They at least showed emotions. They got mad or disappointed or exasperated with her. She wondered what they had done to make him so hard.
She slammed her fists into the bag again and again until with an almighty crash the rope holding it up broke and it slammed into the floor.

Min ignored the newly made mess and made her way up the floors of the ship into the one room without gravity in it. It was the main hub for all of the computers systems. Gravity was not needed in here and so it wasn't there. It also made fixing the systems easier due to the strange places for them. The room was all white. All of the computer parts and wires hidden under the smooth panels.

Min floated here wondering if the reason it was soothing was because it was like a mothers womb. Weightless and free. Or maybe because there was no forces here. Or perhaps just because it was a quiet place on the ship and in this case completely dark. The Hub room as it was called was in the center of the ship well protected and safe. Whilst there was lights for the room she didn't much feel like using them. Min drew a small wooden flute from her pocket. Floating there she played a simple tune. The flute had been a birthday gift from her big brother. The one she remembered not the stiff soldier.

None of the crew knew that she was in the slightest way musical. Locked in her quarters was a flute, violin and pan pipes. She hadn't bothered to ever open the cases. Min noticed a red bubble of liquid float past her and realised that she had split her knuckles open. Probably on that damned punching bag too. She ignored it, it was just too much fuss to go floating after all the droplets in the room. She would purge the air in the room later and then it wouldn't matter.

WARNING ANIHILATION IMMINENT!!!

Cutter swore under his breath. 5 nano meters was optimal to produce the 10 terravolts he needed per second to power his shield arrays.

His fingers blurred on the keyboard as he kicked into high gear coding subroutines for the management of the exited partical and anti partical shields.

His mind flicked back to that evening's discussion with Min.

"I need to produce 10 terravolts of power per second to be able to cut through a cruisers shields and i only need to maintain a supply of 5 megavolts per second whilst i cut through the actual cruiser. The only way to produce that much power is by using my shields to affect an anti matter reactor."

"No." was Min's reply.

"Do you want anti cruiser capability? Because those missles arent gonna work forever!" came his sharp reply.

"I have anti cruiser capabilities. I dont need some half arsed brainless idiot idea from a cocky no good moonbrained cowboy gunner with less common sense than my littlre finger. You are not having anti matter I am the one that mantains these ships. And for another thing i really dont want you blowing up my carrier. Too much paper work." Min's tirade seemed ineffectual to Cutter.

" Take a look at your shields. Take a look at thier schematics. Who's name is on there as the poor wretch that developed the techniques to retrofit these shields onto fighters. Look at the control algorithms and see who's name is there. ~" Min's backhanded slap caught him off guard but could not stop his momentum.

" ITS MY NAME. I spent the last 20 years working on my parents designs so that self righteous inflated moronic engeneers could stop thier pilots from becoming little smears on the face of the galaxy."

" Dont you ever for one minute for one minute that your better than me. Just because you worked on your parents "she spat the word" projects. Dropping names in this place will be the last thing you do. You are on the reject ship iwth reject parts in the dirtiest corner of the solar system. You better learn to stop throwing names around. And i wouldnt think twice about throwing you out of the airlock about now. Less paper work that way. Now go blow your self up, but just dont get in my way. " Min stormed off.

The alarm brought him back to the present.

WARNING ANIHILATION IMMINENT!!!

5.5 nm
5.4 nm
5.3 nm
5.2 nm
5.1 nm
5.0 nm

Containment stable. Power output at 10.5 terravolts per second.


Looking back at the Torus, Cutter radioed back "Anyone home? My maitenence was a success. Activating winch."

Cutter deactivated the shields and settled in for the 20 minutes of drag back into the ship.

Its a little bit before lunchtime, Lali finally woke up from her quarters stumbling into the mess area for breakfast, or lunch depending on your perspective. She grumbled a greeting to the other crew that she passed on the way to food. At the moment all she wanted was coffee if they had any, they better have some. Her work has been non-stop since she came aboard the ship.

This was suppose to be a fairly easy position. Chief Engineer, she was happy when she was promoted. Have underlings to do the work while she sits back and just sign papers. Nope. The pilots deal with their own fighters however ever after skirmish some still need a major overhaul. The ship itself, she's surprised its still in one piece. It would be easy to transfer out however it seems that once you get on this ship, your branded and cant leave, well not the usual way at least.

Lali's headache already beginning to grow looks around the kitchen for anyone, finds a coffee pot.

Its empty.

Not a good start..

Giving up on the coffee heads to the engineering bay. The Engineering Bay has all of ships docked .. bar one ... Cutter.

'Gah ... what is he doing now?'
'Actually no .. i dont want to know'

She heads over to the Engineering console inputs her login and prints out a log of things that require either repair or an overhaul. Its only 3 pages so nothing important. She does a quick once over the remaining pilots ships and checks if any of them need some major repairs. Grabbing a welding mask from the lockers, heads over to the Assault Troop Transport Ship. The repairs on the ship have been on the list for the past 3 months and have been on the back burners due to other important factors like making sure the Torus doesn't stop dead in the water or blow up or both.
At least she was able to get some salvage from the last skirmish. Just making it last till the next supply is the interesting bit. Wondering where Madi is she sends him a personal message(pm) over the internal comms.

'PFY: Neeed coffeeee pleaseee'

Madi is probably the only one on the whole ship that doesnt drive her insane. She starts repairing the ATTS's armour plating waiting for the lunch call.

Satella stood in the doorway of the medbay. Cutter was out again. She sighed and looked back into the room. At least they'd thought to notify her this time. She still shuddered to think of the damage that had been done last time the Captain let people experiment with power sources and the shields, though at least it was someone compitant this time. Sate didn't pretend to know much about engineering or electronics beyond the medical stuff and the cybernetics, but even she could spot a bad idea when someone presented it to her, and that last time had been a huge one.

As soon as the monitors confirmed that the job was done with no serious injury to anyone, Satella left the room, after first double checking that everything that some one could hurt them selves with was locked down. Leaving the room and shutting the door behind her, Sate moved off down the corridor, she wanted to get some training in before she ate.

Entering the Training room, Satella immediately spotted the punching bag on the floor. 'So, Clem's been past recently' she thought 'And been taking out her frustrations on the training equipment again'. Sate shrugged not much she could do about it, she could give advice but Clem would ignore her unless it was a medical emergency, no way in hell would that girl accept her suggestions that she should take a break.

Walking over to a wall Sate entered her personal code into one of the lockers. this was where she stored her training equipment, a collection of training swords and blades. pulling out one weapon, she moved to an empty space and cleared her mind, as she began the first swings of the pattern dance, her custom lab coat billowing as she moved.

Half an hour later, Sate was finished. Locking her weapons away, she walked from the room, first to have a shower, and then to head to the mess hall and see if Che had anything to eat.

Fisher was not impressed. He was expecting a quiet monet to fill in some paperwork with nothing out of the ordinary about to happen. Instead, he became far more out of the ordinary rather unexpectedly. His console was blinking. It was blinking a little red light.

Well when I say red lights, I should point out to Fisher, Red lights were what he saw. And thats also about how he felt when it blinked that little light. Which was in reality a nice green light saying the crew have requested more supplies. Which is generally why Fisher likes to think of such a gesture as implying theres a small emergency going on.

Though he didn't mind when the other light went off. The Green light ment medical supplies were being requested, and well those were things he actually had in stock. Mostly because he flatly refuses to give them out to anyone besides the Doctor (even if the kitchen staff are short on knives)..

Fisher tapped his console, cringing at the names appearing. The first wasn't so bad - it was expected. There was a request for more rope on a punching bag in the training room. Fisher was beginning to think that its about time he got engineering to weld some chain into that bag and ensure it doesn't break ever again. Rope was expensive, espcially when it involved going down to a planets surface to get it..

He changed the order and made a few notes, bouncing a message to engineering stating in no uncertain terms if they didn't fix it soon, they would have to deal with Min herself..

He closed the job and moved to the next one. Fisher stopped reading at that point and suddenly started exploding. The corridors outside of Inventory & Supplies suddently errupted into sound. "CUTTER!" Theren was just something about the way the name rolled through the ship that suggested there would be much pain being inflicted very soon. In fact, if he could get his hands on him before he blew them all to hell, it would be probably be a great deal more painful..

In front of Fisher a message blinked requesting replacement Anti partical shield stabilizers & a list of fuel cells for his fighter all listed under *shield maintanance*. The shield maintanance that he did last week in fact. And what on earth would he need those parts for anyway? He'd have to be redesigning his shielding systems to need that many..

At this point his screen was already tapping into the systems sensor systems. Engineering had rigged it so his ship would start warming up as soon as cutters ship started exceeding safety levels. He was rather worried that this time the sensors seemed to suggest everything was perfectly fine.. Though his ship was being warmed up for retrieval. Fisher cringed slightly, waiting for whatever fallout to occur with a steadily increasing frown upon his forehead.

He decided to hope it wasn't another attempt at creating wormholes with anti practal shields and just take out his frustrations on everyone else. Which meant as usual, the Kitchen would suddenly find itself with a mysterious quanitity of banana flavored icecream that will be ordered and consumed within mere minutes of its arrival from Inventory & Supplies. And yet most of the other requests for the day would be supplied in minimal amounts. Though that was hardly an odd practice.

Fisher began filling in all the orders, The last being a order for Banana icecream from the kitchen. It would of course be signed in exact detail, written perfectly, and yet have never touched any of the kitchen staffs hands ever. Fisher had a few tricks up his sleeve. Which is how he ended up here in the first place. It was decided he was more useful here than in the government. When his handiwork was done and complete, he wandered off to the kitchen, sitting down quietly. The staff knew what he wanted. It was always the same. And it was always arriving just before he did. He was good at his job afterall.

Chelan whistled a breathy tune as he bustled around the kitchen, tending the massive pots that were today's lunch for the inhabitants of the Torus. Admittedly, there were a couple of 'special' pots for those members of the crew he particularly liked and who asked for them...

Speaking of his favoured crewpersons, Lali was craving coffee...again. Chuckling, he thumped the coffee machine on his way past, prompting a shower of ground beans into three pots followed by boiling water. By the time she got to the mess, the coffee would be ready.

Lunchtime, boss he sent back before checking that the pots were still going smoothly.

The arrival of his order from supplies interrupted his fussing, and he growled when he saw the small amounts...and the banana ice cream. Knowing Fisher would be arriving soon, he finished that lunch first and dished it up, turning around to thump it down in front of the man just as he seated himself. Once relieved of his burden, he crossed his arms, glaring (unimpressively) at the Inventory and Supplies Officer.

"Banana ice cream?" he questioned, irritation clear in his voice. "I know I didn't order any banana ice cream. I did, however, order a lot more of everything else on the list. Why in the name of Aquarius do you keep short supplying me? I have a whole ship to feed!"

Che waved his arms around wildly to illustrate his words, then huffed and started back to his pots without giving Fisher enough time to reply.

"You could at least make it strawberry flavoured next time!" he called back over his shoulder, quickly becoming absorbed in cooking once again. One hand punched the meal siren (a small red button that sent a chime throughout the ship alerting everyone that food was ready) on his way past.

---

(Marcell to come)

"If you want more supplies, then you'll remember to fillin a ESR (Emergency Supply Request) form, with reason. Though to be honest, until we find a stricken rogue Freeloader Ninja Cafe ship, we won't be having bacon and eggs for a while. Though I might be able to make an exception or two for some icecream if you think you can find time to prepare some pancakes tommorrow?"

Fisher was smiling as his fingers began alternating the variety of foods before him into an edible meal. Most of it was perfectly fine, though he wished he had more supplies to give out. He knew Chelan was far more skilled than he let on. Though would hardly matter - any ingrediants would become something enjoyable in the end.

"Of course I could always apply for a extra shipment of military rations to be sent with our next spare parts package from the military. Though to be honest I'd only let you feed it to Cutter. Its far to much of a health risk to have any other use than keeping him in sick bay out of harms way."

Fishers fingers began poking the icecream into small bites that could be savoured and slowly licked off his fork, his tongue darting over its surface with a contented smile. Fisher was in a small little piece of heaven as the world displaced itself and he was in a place filled with odd chimes and banana icecream slowly melting into his mouth. His lips curled into a pleasurable smile. He sighed contently between his cold licks of heaven.

Min lifted the hatch on one of the side panels to reveal the interfacing system and surrounding this the wires and chips of the system. She activated voice protocol and let herself drift again.
"Diagnosis of all engine systems pleased" Min said and system replied in a voice she hated
"Confirmed" the voice was stiff and dry, it never varied and was a reflection of the military itself. Unchanging and rather boring at times.

As The Hub began to dictate to her she closed her eyes listening to it's rambling. When it finished engines she asked to to move onto the fighters which were docked and plugged into the system. There were only two fighters in the dock that needed her attention. She knew exactly what she would be doing with one of them. The other might end up being broken down for parts. Things were getting a little desperate on the ship when it came to maintenance on her fighters. She had exceeded the supply budget for them twice in the past few months and now had nothing left with which to buy parts anymore. She could ask Fisher but the man was well known for not letting people have what they wanted. In fact he would give you something close but just not quiet there. That wasn't too bad for cooking it was a disaster for the fighters.

Min set The Hub to do a full systems diagnosis whilst and then closed the hatch she had opened. She pushed herself towards the hatch and then out of The Hub. She the pushed the button just outside the room.
The voice echoed over the whole ship
"Purging air in Central Systems Core" It chimed once and then Min watched through the small window as the air was sucked out. A few drops of blood collided with the walls but most of it was sucking out along with the air. Min sighed thinking about having to come back later and wipe that off. She walked away never mind the dripping trail she left as she walked.

She had opened an almost healed wound on the back of her hand when she had split her knuckles open on the bag and now it was proceeding to drip blood everywhere. Her feeling in that hand been slowly but not enough for her to really register the fact that it was damaged once more and bleeding. The finer feeling in it had yet to return, as for the pain well she was probably just ignoring that wouldn't be the first time.

Min took the back ways to the Kitchen come dinning room. She didn't want to run into her brother. He might actually have something to say to her heavens forbid. Especially seeing as how she had just had a yelling match with him about his inability to act like normal human being and that he probably should take his head out of his arse for a few moments. It had been about three or so hours now so maybe he wouldn't care anymore. Still the route she took avoided the bridge and higher levels but passed right past his living quarters.

Min walked quickly on into the dining room and with a sigh and a smear of blood sat herself in the corner of the built in seating behind one of the cold unfriendly tables bolted to the floor. The blood smear lasted from the doorway and then across one corner of the table to the other on the end where she sat. She didn't even notice as she flopped her head down onto her arms. She wasn't sure if she really wanted food but it was habit to answer any call for meals. A bad habit given her brother might answer it as well. Another thing she should avoid doing. The obvious.

Sate wandered into the mess hall just in time to hear Fisher's comment about Cutter. "So that's a good reason to force me to deal with him is it?" She sat down across from Fisher and stole a piece of his icecream. She shot an apologetic look at Che, "Icecream always tastes better when stolen". When she was done Sate reached out and Grabbed a bowl of Chelan's cooking.

She was about half way through eating, when Clem wandered in, trailing blood. Sate got up and moved to the end of the table that Clem was sitting at. grabbing her hand, the Doctor examined the wound, pulled out a portable med kit, stitched and bandaged the wound and cleaned up most of the dripping blood. She sighed "Clem how often am i going to have to tell you this, if you dont let that hand heal your gonna loose all use of it. doing your job is fine, but anything else stressful, like destroying punching bags, is going to damage it even worse." She reached down and pulled the girls head up to look at her "And when are you going to come and get your exam done? because belive me it wont go away untill you do, And the I would of thought that you would have prefered it over with sooner rather than waiting for me to call med on you".

Marcell readied his stopwatch, raised his hand to a small red button...and quickly pressed both at the same time.

Seconds and milliseconds began ticking by on the old-fashioned stopwatch, as the little red button set off a localised alarm in the quarters of his ground troops. That alarm meant that according to procedure, their immediate port of call should be the arms locker to collect their equipment. And he knew - because he had run it yesterday thirty times for reference - that the trip from the quarters to the armoury took on average approximately seven seconds, and could be brought down to five if he flat-out sprinted without pacing himself to keep his breath when he got here.

The first soldier didn't arrive until nine seconds had passed, his partner only milliseconds behind him. The rest straggled between eleven and seventeen seconds - the last a newish arrogant prat who hadn't quite gotten used to being one of the misfits who made up the population of the Torus. He was woefully out of shape.

The sight of the stopwatch made those who had served under him longer swear under their breath. He let them.

"The run from your quarters to this arms locker should take seven seconds, gentlemen," he said without inflection. "The fastest of you took nine, and were far too out of breath when they got here to do anything but attempt to recover, much less hand out weaponry to their comrades. And you, McNabb - you took seventeen seconds, two slower than the slowest ahead of you. Clearly you are all pitifully out of shape. To help you all attain optimum fitness, once I tell you how long you took, you will run five laps around this ship - yes, the outside corridors - for every second you were late. If I find you walking, you will do an additional five laps every time I catch you doing so. Do you all understand?"

The glares gave him answer enough, but the reluctant murmurs of assent were not the answer he required.

"I said, do you all understand?" he barked out, making them jump to attention.

"Yes, sir!" they chanted in unison.

"Good," he said, returning to his usual emotionless tone. "Gibbs, Inshra - you both took nine seconds. Jackson, ten. Enrick, Nolsjty and Bennett, eleven. Sarrasri, Cooper, twelve. Amunshiref, thirteen. Mackervey and de Broyl, fifteen. And McNabb, seventeen. All of you should have taken seven seconds. Now move out."

The soldiers started running. Marcell kept pace with them, harrying their heels, for the first five laps.

The chime for lunch prompted him to bark an order that they wouldn't receive lunch until they'd finished their laps, and he went back to his quarters to change for the meal. However, he was distracted by the trail of blood that passed his door, leading both toward the Hub and the kitchen. He remembered the Hub purge alarm going off just before the lunch chime, so he moved there first - checking for dead bodies. When nothing appeared amiss, he tracked the trail the opposite direction, following it to the kitchens, only to find the ship's Doctor patching up the squadron leader's...his sister's...hand.

"Status, Squadron Leader Ol'Huge?" he questioned, making sure nothing serious was wrong with one of the officers charged with attacking and defending from Free Runners.

---

Che considered Fisher's offer, head cocked to the side as he stopped whistling. He did have duties in Engineering before breakfast, but some of it could technically be done later in the morning...so maybe...

"Get me the ingredients, and there will be pancakes tomorrow morning. But you'll have to be quick - once the batter's made, they don't take long to cook, and the smell will spread through the ship very quickly. Some maple syrup and lemon juice would be nice too - I have enough sugar, but only enough lemon juice left to lightly flavour a meal. Deal?"

He raised an eyebrow, tapping his foot three times on the floor as he waited for Fisher's answer.

"Oh, and if you ever give me military rations to work with, I want more herbs and spices to compensate. I don't care how rare rosemary and thyme are, they're needed."

"It'll go away if I make you vanish" Min muttered under her breath not at all keen on the idea of being poked, prodded and told all about her health. She disliked medicals far more than her hatred for stiff military people. Speaking of stiff military personal. The stiffest one she knew chose to walk into the room, it was none other than her brother. She twitched her hand and pulled it out of the doctors reach. She flexed it a few times pulling at the stitches not ripping any other them this time. Sate had learnt that it was better to make them just a touch longer then normal to prevent her from tearing them out of her hand. The feeling in her hand was minimal at the moment with a few pins and needles in two fingers.

The blood trail caught her eye and she came to the realisation that she had been tracked. Now cornered by the very source of the frustration who asked for a report.
"Healthy hale and hearty, as I am sure the Doc will tell you. Although I have this slight twitch in my lower back and I think that maybe I have a head ache coming on. Oh wait now my neck is itchy. Shall I continue to keep you up to date?" She asked him in a drawl moving out from behind the table and standing up. She stood very close to him staring him right in the eyes with a look of stubborn fury and spite on her face.

"I have work to be doing" she said and turned to walk out of the dining room having once again skipped the meal. How often had she made it to the kitchen only end up leaving without eating. When was the last time she ate? It slipped her mind. There was that fighter to be worked on... the scraps room probably would have some parts in it that she could use to update the power drive on her ship to give the directional thrusters more of a punch. Last time they had been too slow to react.

Min reached the door only to have to grab the door for support as pain raced down her left side and back up again. There was a sharp pain in her chest. Her breath caught for a second and she screwed up her face in pain fighting not to make a sound. The pain moved back to a dull ache and with slow almost limping steps she started to make her way down to the cargo hold.

As Fisher's icecream was stolen, he burst into laughter. He smiled and grinned madly. "Didn't you know I always get the best stuff stealing from space itself? Even the government isn't that good." He rather quickly finished the rest of the in case someone else tried that tact. Still he did it with a smile.

As his bowl emptied Fisher stood up and wandered over past Min. He gave her an intense look. "I don't normally do this, but I have to insist on treating your body badly I'll treat you as stock and ensure someone else takes care of you. I'll sign this after you have your exam. Whatever part you want. Just go take the exam."

Fisher left a requisition on her table, walking off with a impish grin. He made his way to Che's counter, leaning on it for a moment. "Well I doubt I'll get to keep crew as stock, but can you come by the supply room later. I've got something you can help me with. Bring your tools with you when you come by. And don't tell anyone just yet.." He gave a sly wink.

Che looked after Min's departing figure, a frown on his face. He tried to remember the last time he'd seen her eat (and he'd know, because he made the food on this ship and no one ate without his knowledge) and couldn't place it in the last week. So either someone else was giving her food (unlikely, he hadn't noticed anyone taking extra portions) or...she wasn't eating. He really found the second option more likely.

When Fisher came into 'his' kitchen, his attention snapped to the intruder and he backed up a step before catching himself and pasting a slightly uncertain smile on his face.

"Ahh, sure, if Lali doesn't need me for something," he agreed, ladling out some lunch into a storage container. "Since I am apprenticed under her and all. I'll let you know if I can't come, okay? Just keep your comms open."

He smiled again, then ducked past the adult and out the door after Min, setting off to find her with the box of lunch.

---

Marcell frowned inwardly as the younger Ol'Huge walked past him only to pause at the door. She had stated several minor complaints in a very sarcastic tone, and it was entirely possible she was keeping something from him but if a subordinate lies about their health, then there is little the superior officer can do. And they know the risks; if they don't report something, then any further medical difficulties become their own responsibility. He had no reason to inquire further.

His expression, which had been a little uncertain if you looked closely enough, smoothed back into its usual expressionless façade as his training kicked in. Dismissing his concerns over Squadron Leader Ol'Huge's health to the back of his mind to check up again in a week, he served himself lunch, ate quickly, and left to check on his running soldiers. If they were walking...well. Let's just say there would be repercussions.

Mia managed to make it to the cargo bay door before she slumped against the wall. She could almost feel her heart struggling to keep beating in her chest. One of the men running past made the mistake of commenting how pathetic she looked. The next time he circled around she would be giving him a nasty surprise.
Min pulled herself to her feet as another of the troops made a rather rude and certainly unrepeatable comment to her. The rivalry between fighters and troops was always high. Usually they showed more respect to the fighter captain but some of these were new and also pissed off. She guessed that her brother was the reason they were running laps.

Min took out the bottle of pills that the doctor had given her and took two, they would start their work shortly. In the mean time she needed two things. A metal door opening into the corridor and a long metal pipe. Both were easily located just in front of her. The door to the cargo bay and the collection of scrap parts she was using next to the fighter out of commission.

Min waited until the right troop was in sight then laid her trap. As he was running past he came face to face with a large metal door. In fact the door came at him as he was running. There was an almighty crash as thick skull met unforgiving metal. The man crumpled and Min hauled him into a side corridor and waited for the next one to run past. She waited as two others past there were not her targets. When the next one tried to run past his shins met metal pipe. He went sprawling splitting his lip and possibly breaking his nose. The harder they acted the harder they fell. Min darted over to him and kicked the man in the temples make him pass out. She dragged this one off to into the corridor as well. Then went on her way to her fighter.

There was work to be done, or rather she would have gone to work if it wasn't for the troop that wolf whistled through the door whilst she was bent over a bucket of parts looking for the right length bolt. For Min that was it. Her short fuse blew. She was up and climbing the ladder up to the walkway in a blink they through the door and after the rouge. The man was laughing right up till the moment he released Min was after his blood. Suddenly he was not so keen on hanging around, the man went from lazy walking to an all out sprint. Min on his heels, he rounded a corner with Min following. Until she worked out just who was probably waiting up ahead. She doubled back. She would get the sucker on his next pass.

Fisher smiled warmly as the child fled out the kitchen with a lunch box. He looked over at Sate who hadn't quite left yet with a curious glance. He walked over and sat down next to her with a gleam in his eyes. That usually meant something was up.. and that always meant there was trouble amok..

"Sate, would you be willing to lend some of your medical budget to a good cause, that will begin to increase our medical supplies at later dates? I have a little project I'm working up and I need some things that I can't easily get without going planet side." He grinned like a insane hawk whos just decided that an elephant will make a good lunch.

Marcell frowned slightly when he came up two men short in his headcount, and the last soldier nearly ran into the back of the one in front of him. How odd. And he could swear he'd heard another set of footsteps...

He fell into pace behind the last one, haranguing him for part of the journey before falling back and moving silently at pace down the corridor.

((Meh. I'll edit for volume later.))

Min waited until the man was on what he probably though of as safe territory. Outside the rooms of the Fighters. Naturally most were in their rooms so fighting here was asking to get reported. Min was waiting for him. The fighters were her people if they decided to report her then they would be in simulation for the rest of their career.

Min stepped out to block his path and the man stopped uncertain. He hadn't expected her to wait for him. She gave him a smile that could be considered sweet and friendly. The man paused for second before deciding to back track a few meters.
"If you even disturb me again. You will find yourself in a most unpleasant situation should you need to say I don't know get down to the surface" Min looked him right in the eye and bared her teeth in a wide warning grin.

"Erm if you say so shorty" the soldier said and Min's eyes flashed as did her temper.
"What did you call me?" she asked in a deadly soft voice and eyes narrow.

Sate smiled at Fisher "Depends on how much of it I have to spend on getting you lazy lot into my medbay for your checkups". She finished her stew, and stood up, "Excellent food, as usual Che, I hope to see you in my office tomorrow for your checkup"

"Fisher, your checkup is at 18:00 hours tomorrow. Don't be late." with that Sate walked out the door. Form the looks of Dom she had her suspicions that the men who were supposed to have their checkups today would not be found in her medbay. She did return there anyway... just on the off chance.

When there was no-one ot be found she wandered off to find Dom... and yell at him, since she was pretty much certain that the men were doing laps around the ship again... which meant that she would have to put off the exams yet again.

((Look, I'd really appreciate if people wouldn't call Marcell Dom...they don't generally know his middle name, and if they do wouldn't be overly inclined to nickname him from it. Please, call him Marcell. Or Ol'Huge. Or That Bastard Colonel. Just not Dom. It's not even like I use that nickname in *my* posts...))

Marcell slowed down further as the last trooper entered the corridor containing the pilots' quarters. The rivalry between the 'flyboys' and the 'groundthumpers' was rife throughout the forces, and as such they were the prime suspects in the disappearances. Plus the surveillance cameras in the corridor kept getting 'accidentally' destroyed, so it'd be difficult to prove anything. Much like the surveillance of the cargo bay and Min's quarters kept getting 'accidentally' damaged. Didn't they understand that the surveillance was a valuable asset in minimising damage should they be boarded at any point? He'd be able to keep track of the invaders - unless, of course, they entered one of the many 'accidental' blind spots that he was still being informed couldn't be replaced. Tightass Requisition.

Regardless, he took it slow coming around the corner, easing silently up to the bend and listening in on what he could.

"- should you need to say I don't know get down to the surface."
"Erm if you say so shorty."
"What did you call me?"

Oh boy. Well, that kind of explained where the other two disappeared to. They'd probably pissed the younger Ol'Huge off as well - or at least been in the way when she was pissed at him for whatever reason. She always seemed to be...

Focus. Emotion is unimportant. Defend; protect; obey orders. Follow the codes and hierarchy. Dispense judgement when needed. Terminate Free Runners with extreme prejudice. Emotion is unnecessary. Emotion clouds judgement. Emotion gets your men killed. Focus!

His expression returned to its impassive mask as his eyes snapped open; he hadn't even realised he'd closed them. Only a few seconds had passed, but he listened before he rounded the bend into the brewing confrontation.

---

Che huffed as he finally reached the cargo bay only to realise that Min wasn't there. It was usually almost guaranteed that she'd be here, working on the fighters and fine tuning her own; it was wonderful to watch, and sometimes she'd even teach him a little of what she was doing - but only when no one else was looking.

He trudged off towards the pilots' corridor, hoping someone there could direct him to Min's newest haunt.

Min didn't hesitate, stop to think about it or indeed really delay any longer than to glare at the man before attacking. She slammed the palm of her hand upwards into his jaw. His head snapped back and he took a step back and then snaked forward. His fist connected with the side of her head and she slammed into wall of the corridor. She dropped low and swept his legs out from under him. His head hit the wall opposite to hers. She felt a bit off but the was usually after a blow to the head. The man jumped for her and missed, diving instead right into the quarters of a rather lovely seven foot tall fighter pilot with a soft spot for Min. Who had been trying to put on his shoes. He 'accidentally' pulled on his boot kicked the man in the face.

Min was all ready to go after the man but putting her hand on the wall to brace herself she slipped a little on the blood there. She was bleeding all over these days!

ALERT ENEMY VESSEL DETECTED!

The alarm drowned everything else out and Min cursed under her breath.

"BATTLE STATIONS!" the captains voice boomed through the intercom. Min
pulled herself right and pushed the general alarm by the flight crew's quarters. Although already alert they would now move faster to the ships or face her wrath. She leapt forward and into Dom leaning on his chest bit to recover her balance.
"FIGHTERS GET THOSE ARSES MOVING" She yelled over her shoulder before rolling off him leaving a bloody smear where her head and rested she ran into the cargo bay. Straight to the main controls she fired up all Fighters using the links to the main computer. They would disconnect once ready to launch but now they were starting up one by one. Bar Cutters ship which was banned from linking in to the main system.

Min raced down the row of Fighters to hers and up the ladder into the glowing cockpit. Unlike more pilots she didn't like the suits. She stripped off the overalls she was wearing and jumped in wearing only a shirt and underwear. She pulled out a rag from under the seat and pressed it to where she though the blood was coming from. It was starting to clot but it was annoying in the mean time. Sate was going to kill her for getting hurt again so soon.

Min grabbed her headset and put it on wedging the rag there, she fixed herself into the pilots frequency listening as one by one the crew plugged in and reported.

The alarm sounded just as Che was about to reach the pilots' quarters and he ducked hurriedly into an alcove, not wishing to be stampeded by the twelve men and women rushing on their way to their craft. Oh, they'd regret it later - he knew they were quite protective of him usually - but the need to protect the ship would blind them to anything of concern inside the ship.

The pilots, including Min, rushed past, some of them half-dressed. He blushed as one of the women ran past still pulling a shirt over her head.

As the stampeded passed, he peeked out, then trotted towards his station - a minor gun emplacement that, while important if the other emplacements were taken out, was itself well-protected. And concealed.

Che sighed again; always protecting him.

---

The alarm sounded just as Marcell started to step around the bend to interfere, and he immediately ran over to McNabb, hauling him away from the rushing pilots and running for the armoury again. A couple of the soldiers, being closer to the locker, had beaten them there and started handing out weaponry. Two soldiers were still missing.

Endangering the safety of the ship. Ol'Huge will have to pay the price for taking out troops when needed.

"Squad A, entry points. B, go to the transport and stand by for boarding. And C...having lost two members, I'm sending you to help out with gun emplacements of your choosing. Rotate where needed. Move out!"

He himself moved to the bridge once he was outfitted, where the central comms and most up-to-date information would be.

"Captain," he acknowledged as he strode into the room, quickly taking in what he could of the battle situation from the displays.

Commander Duke moved from the bridge down to the main gun bays a few levels below on the way he saw two men laying in the middle of a corridor. He rushed over and up ended a bucket of water that had been sitting waiting for someone to mop the floors. Probably from last week knowing his crew.
"UP AND TO BATTLE MEN!" he roared at the two dazed men who were pulling themselves together. He would have to sit Min down and explain once more why she shouldn't beat the Troops up so. It was a nasty expression of her growing temper really.

Duke rushed from gun placement to gun placement checking them. He clamped Che on the shoulder and then headed back up to the bridge. He had found that this round of checking helped to reassure his people that everything was ready and raise moral.

Back on the bridge the highly trained crew was at their work. Carrier pilot strapped in and ready to move the huge beast into the best position and angle for firing once the Fighters were deployed. The navigator was scrambling upon the screen map plotting the enemy who were slowly forming up and moving in towards them. Three smaller Carriers of older design and technology approached. Their engines slower that Torus.
"Lets make them come to us, give our people more time" he told the bridge. They nodded or continued working depending on their personality. He was counting on Min to make a quick deployment and then on the gun crew to protect them.

"Bring up shields once they are in range. Engineer ready in the engine room?" Duke asked. It was routine nothing more, everyone knew their jobs in battle and did them without being asked. The familiarity of orders bought some people a little more ease and peace in the panic and rush. He tried to be as calm and stoic as possible. A calm commander could make a calm crew.

"Their engine's are prepping to being hard burn. Their fighter bays are open but no Fighters have been deployed." Someone told him and he relayed this to Min and Marcell. The Ol'Huge siblings were a nightmare when together how neither of them had known the other would be on the ship amazed him. Also the fact most of his crew failed to notice that they share more than last name surprised him to. Then again they were vastly different people.
"Doc ready?" he asked radioing the med bay and then he called one of the Fighters who was grounded due to ship troubles
"Get to the Hub. We can always use you there"

"ALL STATIONS WE HAVE THREE CARRIERS AND MULTIPLE FIGHTERS IN BOUND!" he called over the intercom bracing everyone to prepare for battle.
"FIGHTERS DEPLOY WHEN READY"

Fisher was getting up to leave his leaisurely lunch, but the alarms made him sprint. As he charged down the corridors, his fingers began to slide a PDA out, tapping at its screen to issue Deployment plans. Fisher ran to the hangar bay directly, wanting to get an eye on what they were fighting as his staff were delivered orders to take a usual compliment of reloads and repair & emergency equipment to the hangar bays. Fishers ship was also being prepped ready for launch (a by product since Cutter's ship was warming up). Currently it held 4 ammo reloads that covered the variety of uniques fighters on this vessel, and left the other bays free. Today there would be salvage. Or death...

Fisher decided with 3 carriers coming to order his last bays to be filled with one of the few weapons his freighter could use besides simply latching onto a smaller fighter and ramming it into something. He had a crate of rather special and rare goods. An antique technology that works rather well, mines. They were crude, having minimalistic sensors and propulsion, much of their fuel already being siphoned anyway. But they would certainly make a deadly moving wall if dropped at high speed. Fisher headed to his ship, warning the crews he would try to bring in a live fighter for salvage if he could. They needed it this time..

"Lives first. Salvage later" Min told Fisher once again. She had told it to him a thousand times and to her own crew as well. You fight with your head in the fight not on what comes after. Most of her Fighters knew it well enough and there was always a good chance of getting the docked Fighters out of a carrier if they chose not to deploy. Min counted the last of her crew in their ships. Bar one.

"CUTTER GET GET BUTT MOVING OR I WILL VENT THE BAY WHILST YOU ARE TRYING TO WALK IN IT" Min roared impatient at Cutter for once again taking too long for her liking. There was a hum that could be heard even through her ship. Or rather felt. It was the deep hum of the Torus's shields starting up.
"Venting in thirty seconds whether you are ready or not" Min announced over the radio. Most of her crew were either sitting ready in their ships or clearing theirs from the small amounts of repair work they did themselves.The three ships out of service sat there dark and lonely. One was being torn apart for parts really. The other had had its pilot die but remained mostly intact. The third was undergoing heavy modification and repairs. Min tried not to think about the dead pilot. The Fighters were her people and her responsibility. She had failed one of them and it wounded her deep. Now though was the time to be thinking about the battle. Space fights were a strange thing. It was hurry up, wait, let all hell loose. People often said it was the waiting for Carriers that drove you made. Min had to agree. Right now she was tense and stressed, once flying that would all vanish.

Fisher grinned and yelled back, "I'll make sure to land on them first!" He was ensuring lives we're first. One more fighter in the air meant one more weapon to use. Even if it was little more than a giant thrown brick. He began to sprint, his freighter being large enough to worry less about space suits till after he was inside. He ran up the ramp and slammed a button to close and seal his freighter, half stripping as he did so to get out of his uniform and then began blundering into a pilots spacesuit. He didn't mind being the last ship to leave the bay.

For an administrator, Fisher wasn't too bad without his clothing. It probably had something to do with the fact he never really was at his office, and definitely had something to do with his more recent efforts of attempting to become an accomplished combat pilot (and thus having to pass certain tests and drills for fitness, weight, speed and just general health). Then again if you asked him he'd just say he requisitioned it before he was born. And he's probably right too!

As soon as the Alarms sounded Sate immediately reversed direction, heading for her rooms and the medbay.

It didn't take her long to reach them. One of the benefits and curses of being doctor was that she got a set rooms that adjoined the medbay, though the lounge room was more for her to be conducting the psychoanalytical part of her job than anything else.

Entering her room, Sate pulled out the false wall that the captain had so kindly had installed for her. She strapped on several small knives and a few more bits and pieces in places that wouldn't interfere with her doing her job and hurried back to the Medbay to wait for the wounded to arrive.

She grabbed a mike and spoke, her words piping to the fighter bay, all the fighters and the ground troops. "This your friendly ships doctor Satella de Cedross, wishing you all a good battle, and reminding you that if you get hurt to return to the ship as soon as possible, so I can fix you up. we don't want a repeat of the Sam incident do we?" Sam had untill recently been a fighter. He had been injured early on in a recent battle and hadn't come in, as a result he had lost his leg, unfortunately Sate and Fisher didn't have the parts to give him a bio-mechanical replacement, so he was stuck off duty and on crutches until they could get the parts. "So be sure you remember what I've said."

"Good luck and Gods Speed"

She settled down, for what she knew would be a long period of anxious waiting.

Late as usual Cutter practically flew into his ship. Stashing his bottle of vodka under his seat he powered up Blade and prepared to activate his shields.

The air vent timer had finished and the carriers shields were raised. He was first out.

The shock of the rails kicking in and hurling him out into space made spots dance in his eyes.

A handgrenade they called him. Pull the pin and duck they said.

"Ill give them something to duck from. Then ill take their heads off!!!" He yelled to himself as he cleared the carriers shields.

Firing up his engines the multiple terminals in his console came alight. Setting his defensive shields to the minimum value needed to maintain their integrity he set his throttle at 110%.

Hurtling towards the enemy carrier as fast as possible with his ship Cutter pulled out the necklace he wore and took the coin off it. Fliping it he activated the second shield setup he had on his ship.


-Blade shields up and running at 5 nano meters.
-Energy output at 10.5 terravolts.
-Hull charging.
-Estimated time until charge is complete 5 minutes without battery assistance. 30 -seconds with battery assistance.

-Batteries at 100% do you wish to engage battery assistance?
-yes

-Batteries engaged.
-Feeding of Blade system commencing.

-Batteries depleted.

-Warning reserve power depleted.
-Warning all shield systems will be unusable for 5 minutes after activation of Blade system.


He caught the coin. It showed tails.

"Maybe ill pay today. Hell at least ill take a swack of them with me." he laughed and settled into his seat, pulling the 3 keyboards close to him.

Producing the vodka he took a long swig.

Maybe today ill atone he thought

"Well boys and girls I do think thats my cue?" Min said watching as soon as Cutter's cockpit closed she vented the cargo bay. Cutter's ship was launched out of the carrier on a propulsion rail system as soon as the bay doors were full opened. With him out of the bay the next two fighters one from either side of the docks and opposite ends launched. There was a highly regulated pattern of launching that prevented crashes inside the bay. Once out you were on your own. The automated system ended the moment you were passed the shields.

Min was launched after the first pair. Her tracking ball lit up and she laid her hand against it feeling the cool smooth surface under her hand. She flipped the targeting aid over one eye.
"Fighters inbound!" she called over the radio as the approaching carrier launched their own fighters.
"Enemy carrier is charging there weapons," Duke warned and the fighters scattered far and wide between the massive ships that dwarfed them. Darting in and out the fighters met lighting up the black of space with flares of their weapon fire. From rail gun blue, yellow bullet flares and the odd flares of fire as the weapons found their targets. Fire lasted barely a breath here as the oxygen was burst up in one burst. The carriers opened fire on each other in an almost beautiful show of blue-green shield flares and fighters smaller golden shields.

Min flew with all the skills that she had, calm and cold hearted the killed without thought and protected her own with swift brutality. These were her people and she wanted them all back into her cargo bay. The track ball and design of her ship just about made her the faster and most maneuverable thing in the battle. She kept after her people protecting them as best she could. Cutter worried her at times like this. He would go off all gun ho but once through a carrier (if he managed it) he was unshielded and a sitting duck.

Min directed the battle using the tested and tired grid system. She arranged her fighters like an artist does stroke of paint on a canvas. The work didn't end there though she was able to see weakening parts of the enemy ship and direct the carrier were to target in order to break through faster.

"Enemy on my tail!" Thor called over the radio and Min instantly bought up the display of his location she spun the track ball one eighty and came about in full using directional thrusters. She shot after her crew member, at the same time a glance shot from the enemy carrier destined to hit Torus slammed into her shields. The ship jerked to the ship as she battled to correct and stay away from the shield of Torus which would destroy her like a fly on the windscreen in atmosphere. She spun the ball angling her ship down and firing her thrusters full. Sparks flew from behind her as systems overloaded.
"Shields at forty percent" the computer informed her tonelessly.
"I KNOW!" she yelled back at it redirecting power between systems to attempt a relay shield power jump. It would boost her shield and hopefully they would hold. Enough to take a hit or two. If it worked. It had a few times... for a while.

There was a moment of calm as the systems relayed around and then a flare of sparks and a small explosion. A piece of shrapnel flew from her left and into her thigh. She felt that. She yelled in pain and then gritted her teeth. Her navigation system had overloaded, again. She never really did get round to fixing that now she had a good reason. She flew towards Thor her engines taking the power from the now boosted shields. Thor screamed for back up or help and then right before her eyes as she raced to get in range of the enemy fighter his shields flared and died. Another hit collided with his engine which flicked, died and then exploded. There was a flare as the whole ship blew apart. Thor's screams echoed across the radio.

"Kill these bastards" Min said quietly after a minute. "Kill them all" she said and with tears streaming down her face she raced ofter the responsible fighter. She had liked Thor. The man had a sense of humor and she didn't doubt that Mark whose fighter was still heading for the wreckage was torn. Mark had been Thor's lover and they had always been a good time. Mark was probably reeling in shock.

Being last off the line was where Fisher wanted to be right now. He would happily wait and watch the orchestrated chaos of Min and her fighter teams with as much respect as amazement at it all. He was a wildcard however. Ensuring his own flight plans didn't result in too much chaos to the others, he usually did good. Then again he was the largest ship to be fielded, so it was hard to miss him.

The Cormorant sat quietly watching the battle from above their own carrier. It occasionally thrusted away from some misguided fire, waiting, watching, being the perfect lure. This plan would have been more perfect if Thor's screams weren't filling his radio with a terrible shriek. Fisher had a target now. There was no point in heading after Thor's killer. They would have enough trouble. But instead he began to focus on the areas where Mark's fighter was. Fisher knew the pilot would avenge the killer.. And would probably be their weakest pilot now. Rage was not good substitute for clear mindedness. Though anyone in Fisher's cabin might have noticed the mildly insane look as Fisher began his work. He had liked Thor, and he had always been a little jealous, but this was not what he had wanted..

The Cormorant began to spin now, its engines bursting into life. Small bursts began to reposition it to come into a heading above Mark's previous position. His radio burst into life, his voice giving a overly sweet, "I'll take over Mark's sector." The Cormorant began to take a inception course towards the largest combatant in that sector. Its oversized engines and shields being pushed to maximum power, as thats all this ship had going for it. Size, speed and sheer stubbornness. Fisher held his face with that carefully placed look of insane grief and pain running through him. Just as somewhere in the opposing fleet someone began to notice a ship that looked like a giant oval steeled jellyfish trailing folded up mechanic arms and drills, was moving, accelerating dangerously towards their vessels..

Min's enraged battle cry broke over the whine of her engines. The sounds of her own ship and the radio chatter was the only sounds that she heard. Battles in space are silent and deadly. They are quiet and almost peaceful light shows put on for amusement. Only there was a very real and deadly element to everything that they did. A life or death set of motions. As the first carrier was taken out by Cutter everyone knew that unless life boats were found later the entire crew would have perished on that carrier. As Min flew taking out fighter after fighter there was a life in each one of them which she destroyed. Only there was no room for pity here. No room for weakness on the battle field. you are either killing or being killed. It was a harsh reality, the few life pods floating away in space held testinment to the lucky ones.

Duke watched the battle maneuvering his beautiful ship against the Carriers. Torus was strong and sure in battle as she always was. the shields flared against the enemy fire. The too large engines now bought fully online charged and fired their weapons to weaken the enemy shields. Cutter as always was waiting to overload the enemy shield first chance and there was a small cheer on the bridge as the first of three carriers went down. They were not out of danger yet though. One of the enemy carriers was trying to flank them and put pressure on two sides of their shields. it was a three dimensional dance that they all carried out. Moving around each other with practiced ease. Min almost met her end against their shields after being hit but recovered. Everyone of the people alive out there was another member of his family and he worried about them all. the rail guns fired in an almost constant rhythm. It was like the Torus's heartbeat. Another of their fighters died screaming defiance to the enemy. Duke watched as Min spun her fighter to another angle and plane to try and save another of her people. She could do little, the reports streaming in from the fighters showed few of their ships were undamaged. Even Cutter was having degrees of trouble with his.

Duke watched as the number of enemy fighters dropped dramatically. Min was flying at her best, her ship being strained to its limits. He always wondered over her flying skills. She was faster than the others into battle and more experienced. Smarter than the other fighters he wondered just what she was doing on his ship. She and her brother born of the higher class and yet fighting in the least loved vessel of the fleet. He could only wonder at the kind of life that any of them had now compared to the ones they had come from. He directed the main guns to fire on certain points and tried to keep everyone working together as best he could.

"shields on the second carrier are weakened. They will be forced to surrender soon" one of the officers on the bridge informed him. most Carriers would surrender if their shields failed them. It was common, a way to save lives.

"Marcell. Be ready to board if they surrender" Duke informed the military officer. He wondered if the man was worried for his sister right now. Min was yelling over the radio coordinating her fighters in the 3D grid work of the battle field. She was moving faster and better the more heated the fray grew.

Min watched as the shields on the second carrier began to flicker. The third carrier was slowly backing away from the battle drawing further away. Its fighters trailing it in a limping fashion. It seemed the cowards would run. Min flew in closer to the second Carrier. Its shields met Cutters and flickered. he did not make it through and she was at the wrong position to see his fate.
"FUCK YOU!" she yelled over the combined frequency network upon which all people could hear her. They had killed three of her people and possibly Cutter as well. She would see them dead for this. She shot right for the nose of the carrier. The bridge inside was going mad but to her they were just black dots moving about. they watched this mad fighter fly towards them in a sick game of chicken. Their fighters moved to intercept but this fighter was faster.

Just as the fighter approached the outer limit of where the still flickering shield was it changed angle. Two underside thrusters fired, now with nose facing downwards but still moving forwards the fighter passed over the top of the carrier. It merrily opened fire. Min let all her guns loose as she flew over the carrier nose down but still holding course. Sometimes directional thrusters changed the way you looked at battle. the shields with their power shifted forwards to expect a head on instead left were peppered from above. Weak in some spots her fired breeched and slammed into the Carrier. There were small eruptions of fire and explosive decompression.

"This is Free Runner vessel Halies, we surrender ourselves to the Aquarian government. Ceasefire! I repeat Ceasefire!" Though all the fighters heard this order many ignored it. Min was cleared the Carrier only to be swooped down on by two enemy fighters.

"You heard you master cease fire little doggies" Min said over the CFN as her engines fired working at 120%. She would face engine failure at best shortly. Explosion was on the list of worst. The two enemy fighters continued to hound at her as she used her track ball to open her up to all possible ways of moving. The track ball was a blessing. She could move in any direction on any plane in a split second. The mathematical formula and thruster firring sequences were some of the most complex in the Aquarian system. Min flipped under one fighter and shot the under side of its shield to shit. They flickered and failed. She clicked the tail of the ship without shields and it spun away. Its fellow followed backing off as various people screamed over the CFN for ceasefire.

In the fuss the third Free Runner Carrier had slipped away taking with it a large number of fighters. Among them the few that had taken out Torus people.

"Head back to the carrier Fighters" Duke ordered and Min shot out over to Cutter's ship. It was lifeless in the space but at least intacked.
"Hi there Cutter, I'll send Fisher for you" she informed him on the radio as her screens started to flash warnings and various alerts informed her of everything from death to fires. Min redirected power away from her engines as she guided the damaged Screamer towards the fighter. She shut down shields once on the other side of the carrier. The carrier had rolled so that the cargo bay doors were facing on the opposite side of the enemy carrier which had performed a similar maneuver.

Min realized that her engines were not responding so well once the power draw from shields were gone. She let the Torus computer guide her in as she tried to draw power away from her now overactive engines. The core threatened to explode. Once in the bay and coming to a rest she lept out of her seat and scrambled over it to manually cut the power lines to the engine. Everything was red hot and as she cut them a short burst of steam caught her on her side. She yelped feeling skin over heated to the point of damage. Then the engine was silent and the fighter still. She crawled back to her cock pit and pulled the top back.

tumbling out she limped over to the troop transport avoiding the incoming zones. She was limping not only due to the rather nasty steam burn beginning to take shape on her side. More to do with the large shard of shrapnel that was firmly stuck in her leg. The only reason she hadn't bled out was the fact that it was still in there. her headset was still holding a bit of bloodied rag to the side of her head from the fight that seemed almost years ago. Min made her way to the transport and took a look at the pilot.
"I am flying this one" she said and the man stalled. He looked like he really didn't want to argue with this bleeding and angry female. Although she was standing there in a shirt and underwear. Then again maybe it had something to do with the military officer in the vicinity.

"FUC~" Was all he heard as his ship went dark. A slippery wetness covered his face. Blood, or coolant? he couldn't tell.

His ship was completely dark. "Dammit, and i was doing so well."

He had hit the first carrier full bore. Its shields had given way with the usual satisfying discharge of superheated plasma from the carriers shield generators. Bringing his second set of shields up he revved his engines and headed towards the bridge. A shot pinged off his shields just before he collided head first with the windows of the bridge.

He blacked out momentarily as the change in inertia affected his brain. Coming to he pushed the engines to their maximum and proceeded to dodge his way through his 5 minute recharge time.

As he took pot shots at the fighters whizzing around he noticed another of Min's suicidal tactics. He saw her skimming too close to the Torus' shields. "Crazy bitch" He muttered as he pulled his ship to face the second carrier.

It was moving to flank the Torus, he began to laugh as he charged his shield sets. His shields stabilized and as he hit their shields he noticed the damage indicator flickering out of the corner of his eyes.

An explosion rocked the ship as the emergency protocol ejected the damaged battery moments before it overloaded.

Being unable to provide enough charge the ship was repelled.

A second explosion slammed into the ship as the second battery ejected.

And here he was. His ship dark, his oxygen running out. He reached down to retrieve his bottle of vodka, broken glass met his fingers.

FUCKING DAMMIT!!!!! He thought.

He set about wiring his emergency battery usually reserved for when he ejected into his life support and began his wait to be recovered.

Marcell watched the battle intently, barking orders occasionally to those manning the cruiser's railguns to direct their fire to a certain place for maximum effect, or to compensate for occasional gaps in the dogfight. Had he permitted emotions to cloud his mind and face, a scowl would have occupied it when the third carrier managed to get away - but as it was, it remained the impenetrable mask it had always been.

Since the fighting was apparently over, he nodded to the Captain and left the bridge, calling for Squad C over the infantry's radio to assemble with Squad B at the transport.

Once there, he saw a bloodied, battered and infuriated Squadron Leader arguing with the transport's pilot and changed direction from his troops to the duo, striding over to them.

"Squadron Leader, sign yourself into the ship's doctor for medical treatment," he ordered before turning to the pilot of the transport. "Flight Officer, begin preparations to board the Free Runner carrier Halies."

"Military commander." Min said formally "Cram it up your arse" she finished with style. She hadn't even looked at him instead was glaring at the poor pilot who looked like a mouse corned by a cat with no way out. Min glared at the man.
"Flight Officer Lukus you are relieved of duty for this flight." Min said in a rather final manner. She turned to face Dom.

"I wasn't aware that you were assigned to this boarding party but hey if you want to come i can make the room." Min told him in a way that she thought gave him no room to continue the whole ordering away thing. She was clutching at straws. This was her chance to make up for letting her people get killed. If she could get their crew and capture them all then maybe it would be okay. If she could look at the faces of the enemy fighters. See the defeat in their eyes. It might be okay then.

Marcell had had enough. Reaching out, he grabbed Min by the back of her shirt and lifted her off the ground, holding Min at arm's length as he walked swiftly towards the exit and med bay.

"Officers, continue," he ordered shortly. "Ol'Huge will not be replacing you, Lukus. Prep the transport and proceed at will. Inshra, you have command."

Min was not going to stand for being picked up and carried off. She swung a bit, braced herself on the wall with both feet and then pushed off hard towards Dom. If he could stay upright with that then he was a god.

The process of doing this made the shrapnel in her leg shift deeper in and tear further along her leg. Blood splattered the floor with a wet series of quick and thick droplets.

Marcell took a step back as soon as Min pushed off the wall, redirecting her movement with some effort into a spiral around him on the end of his arm, catching her after a full circle with his other arm around the front of her neck. Holding her to his chest, he smoothly pulled his sidearm and pistol-whipped the side of her head.

There was a moment of savage victory thinking about just how clever she was being. That quickly turned to bemused 'what the fuck' It was a lot like being stuck in dance classes. Dom had always been better at those than she was. She tended to want to savage her partners unless they were Dom. They tended to be absolute arse holes.

She was just about to give him some kicks to tender regions when the tiniest flicker of movement betrayed the butt of the side arm coming inwards her. Time seemed to slow as it always does when something is going to be utterly unavoidable. The gun struck but not soundly, it missed out on that much as she attempted to wriggle out. Although the only difference between being hit sounding and an off center blow was the amount of pain. A proper blow hardly hurt at all bar the waking up part. This hurt like a bitch, the bone ached everything was jumping before Min's eyes and her body refused to respond to her wishes. Spot danced before her eyes. She wished she could voice her outrage at Dom but she was too busy struggling to hold onto consciousness. Any normal person would have given up and passed out. Min hung on out of shear stubbornness.

Marcell felt the shift just before the sidearm connected and sighed inwardly, rapping her skull again just to be sure before adjusting his hold to a fireman's carry and continuing on to the medbay and Sate. Laying her on the closest available surface, he looked around for Sate to give her his orders for when Min woke up.

Fisher was enjoyed his game, his vessel playing a deadly game of chicken, waiting for a perfect moment. As he suicidally charged through the enemy vessels, his real tactic came to light. he would wait for an enemy to be lured into trying to strafe his soft underbelly, using his ships unique feature. Its main engines were backed up by 4 additional ones fitted for one thing only. He would rotate 180 degrees and slam into the enemy chasing him. Having no weapon systems, his larger vessel could afford the extra power to be diverted to multiple engines. Of course he'd then be using the claws and hooks that normally anchor captured and damaged vessels to hold the enemy to the most armored piece of his ship. From their he would go to work with sub space plasma torches to destroy their gun barrels, a covenants method of disabling the weapons without doing irreparable damage Then he'd go for the engines power cables.

The game was incredibly dangerous, mistimed he would allow the enemy to riddle his ammo crates and soft under belly with fire. Though it would probably only disable his larger ship, a 2nd attack would leave him dead. Often he would go through an entire battle without finding a suitable target.. But this time, he had been lucky. An over eager pilot had fallen prey, finding its belly guns suddenly crushed by an unexpected ram. Fisher's shields were sorely beaten, but the ship had no way to defend itself from him without its belly guns. It had not been the target he was after, but there were too many in this battle to maintain a perfect record.

He Let his ship come to a complete halt near the Torus, parking his capture by the spot that his inventory said was demanding the most urgent armor plating replacements, leaving the incapacitated vessel as a tiny shield. Then he blasted off again, letting them drift slowly in space.

Fisher had a new target, Cutter as usual had done a rather magnificent job, leaving a carrier reduced to wreckage. He began to navigate the edge of the battle to try and capture the largest pieces he could from escaping the explosion. Again, a rarely enjoyable job. Shooting hooks into high speed spinning hulks often led to his vessel being thrown about like a tennis ball, though with his double engine set, he was best equipped for slowing the wreckage and sending it drifting back towards the Torus where he can collect it later.

Later the call came in, and he began to hunt down cutter, with a grin. He waved through the silent space as he approached the crippled vessel. he was beginning to think he should start handing out frequent carrier miles. He began to link up to the crippled vessel, attempted to give it some power and run its diagnostics systems. Though he wouldn't be surprised if Cutter's fighter wasn't dead to the world. Cutter would have to have his ship overhauled again.. Maybe he could find him something larger with a dual power source from todays haul..