The Galactic War: Rogue Element ~The Beginning

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

Firin looks around the armory, and while he does have his standard Dracon, he knows a little something about ASAR's.  He'd seen them in action.  Rapid fire-rate is usually a good thing.  He takes one off the rack and slings the strap over Rythil's shoulder.  He disdains the ARC, but does pull one out of the stasis cabinet.  He could use it for its HUD functionality, but later he could perhaps disassemble it to see if he could use it to make any upgrades to his own cube computer.  And, of course, he could reprogram his cube computer to interface with the handy little holo-display.  He hooks the display over Rythil's right ear and touches his hand to the small, smooth interface panel and commands it to activate.  After a few moments, the holo-display begins to flash in front of his right eye, scrolls of Andalite script rolling past, probably giving the computer's specs or status or who knows?  He commands the thing to enter HUD display mode and it overlays holographic data on his perception of the world around him.  He grudgingly admits that this is a handy feature, though if the Andalites use it only for battle situations, they are sorely underusing its potential.  He tucks the processor portion of the computer next to his cube computer in its designated belt-pouch.  Finally he makes his way over to the small field-bins holding the impact detonators and grabs a couple of them to strap to his belt.  He turns back toward Keslin.  "I am heavily uncomfortable with this, Keslin."

He glances at Nefitt.  What the man said was true...they didn't belong here.  But he finds himself already thinking of his small quarters as a home.  It was, admittedly, much nicer than any home he'd had before.  That wasn't to disparage the base they'd lost, it had its own quaint charm, but seeing nothing but rock and tarnished steel got old after awhile, especially when his host preferred tall forests and open sky through a dense canopy.  "There are...things...we should discuss before speaking so...openly, Nefitt."  He glances around himself at the Andalites gathered in the small armory room.  There were such opportunities for tech here...but he wouldn't expect a medic like Nefitt to understand that.  Still, the man should be a bit more diplomatic given the current situation.



Serid quickly arms himself with an ASAR and a couple of impact detonators, already wearing his own personal ARC unit.  He frowns at the Yeerk called Nefitt...the man was entitled to his opinions, but Prince Ossanlin had not given these people any reason to distrust him.  Quite the opposite in fact.  <Very well...Keslin.  A medkit, of course.>  He goes to another stasis cabinet and pulls out a hard-case designed to be clipped to a belt.  He frowns again at the condescending tone that Nefitt uses, but doesn't comment upon it.  <Here...>  He hands the hard-case to Nefitt.  <There are medicines in there, and yes, they are engineered for Andalite usage.  I believe that Varekil and your...Farrah...hav e begun work in the med-bay lab to re-engineer some of our medicines to be safely usable by other species.  Simply avoid the injection ampoules.  One contains a pain-suppressor, the second contains antibiotic, and the third contains synthetic adrenaline.  There is a small dermal-mender which can close lacerations swiftly and effectively.  There's also a laser-cauterizer to stop internal bleeding if necessary.  Human hands should be capable of manipulating the implements successfully.>

He turns his main eyes back to Keslin.  <Do you require anything else?>

[Chad32]

<I will keep the setting low enough to not inflict permanent damage.> Ferxal said. He decided he would equip himself the same as Serid. Back on previous missions, this kind of thing was already done beforehand, and given to the Warriors right before battle. Though that may have simply been how Prince Foosal wanted it done. His way and nothing else, including that equipment he thought was best for the occasion. Of course if Ferxal ever wanted to become Prince, he would need to start taking initiative, and the military did expect soldiers to work towards getting that next promotion.

If the Yeerks decided not to stay with this crew, there was little point in Ferxal staying either. Perhaps he would wait until the rebels made their ultimate decision before he made his.

[Aluminator (Kit)]

Varit shrugs, a terrifying gesture in his Taxxon body as he slithers along beside Keshin. "Resseliss isn't your average Taxxon," he says. "He's curious, and bright." At the glow of pride he feels from Resseliss, he cuts his string of compliments short. It wouldn't do to have a starving, self-righteous Taxxon as a host. "To his former Yeerks, he was always simply a host, but when he became my host... Well, I saw no harm in trying to help him nurture his spark of curiosity, to help him grow beyond being just another Taxxon." He pauses, thinking for a moment, then says, "I suppose we've had... some success."

"Turelek?" Varit echoes. "I think you're the first one I've ever met." The thought of one who lives outside of the law, outside of any organization, unsettles him greatly, and it shows in his tensed, arched stance as he walks. The Rebellion may exist outside of the Empire, but it is... was... still an organized, effective society.

He finds himself eying Keshin differently... speaking more slowly, picking out his words carefully. "Jobs..." he repeats. "You mean... assassinations. You kill people." He pauses, gulps some air, then asks the question at the forefront of his mind, "Who do you work for?"


Aetheas hangs a respectful distance back from Ossanlin and Keslin as they form the boarding party. He watches as the party leaves, then turns his main eyes to Ossanlin. <Are you sure allowing that Ferxal to board is wise?> he asks bluntly. <What if he betrays us? What if he tries to contact the Electorate?>

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

Ossanlin turns back to his console as Aetheas speaks, echoing the very same thoughts he'd had himself about including Ferxal in such a sensitive mission.  He'd argued back and forth with himself regarding the pros and cons...he only hopes he's made the correct decision.  <<I have considered many angles of the situation, Warrior.  The fact is, we can use him.  I hope that by extending trust, he will extend his to us.  He's a close-combat specialist, which makes him a perfect choice for the given situation...at least as far as his skill-set is concerned.  And unlike you, he is...expendable.  Not a pleasant truth, but a truth all the same.  I won't say it would be convenient for him to become injured in this raid, I'm not that cold, but it certainly would not be inconvenient.>>

He turns his main eyes to his console, directing a stalk eye at Aetheas instead.  <<His record shows a history of following orders, not even a registered reprimand.  And he is surrounded by five others who would show little compunction in subduing him should he step out of line.>>  He pauses for a couple of moments before continuing.  <<Command is about careful consideration.  It's about the weighing of options and logical planning.  But in the end, Aetheas...sometimes a Prince has to take a gamble.  You can't be afraid to take chances if you want to command, Warrior.  You shouldn't be reckless, but you can't shy away in the face of uncertainty.  Things aren't nice and neat and tidy, not in the real world.  There will be situations where there are no good answers, so you choose the best one and hope.  You merely must be ready to accept the responsibility for your decisions.>>  He sends a message to the Docking Hangar to prepare one of the ship's two remaining transport shuttles for the Off-board Team.  He speaks, still in private thought to Aetheas, but his tone is more that of one speaking to himself.  <<People will die under your command...they will die because of your decisions.>>  He takes a deep breath.  <<You just have to live with it.>>

[Terenia]

Keslin watches Firin arm himself, keeping one eye on Nefitt.

"I know, Firin," he says, sighing a little. "But consider it an opportunity. We used to run raids on Yeerk ships all the time. This is no different. Well...not much different," he amends, glancing at Serid.

"No, Serid, I think we're set. Unless there is anything you would recommend. You're far more familiar with this technology than we are."


Nefitt scowls a little at Firin's words. "Discuss when?" he hisses under his breath, not caring if Keslin can hear or not. "Our so-called leaders are too busy kissing Andalite tail to bother listening to reason." He accepts the medical kit from Serid without a word, but is careful not to let his borrowed human hands touch the Andalite's flesh, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

[Chad32]

Ferxal makes no comment on the conversation between the Yeerks. He is an outside observer, looking in towards a situation that had never crossed his mind in his military career. While he admitted to himself that Yeerks and Andalites working together would not break the physics of the universe and cause its collapse, it just didn't seem like a realistic scenario that would happen while there were people alive that had seen the start of the war. Maybe if the war ended, and there had been an uneasy peace long enough for the participants to all die of old age, but not while conflicts still raged across the galaxy.

One might bring up the fact that the leader of this particular mission, aboard this Andalite ship, was a Yeerk. It seemed like a truly genuine effort to cooperate with the rebel leadership, even if Nefitt didn't realize. On the other hand, Ferxal couldn't prove that it wasn't just a token gesture to give the rebels enough pause to fulfill an ulterior motive. Prince Ossanlin didn't have the reputation of someone who would pull an underhanded stunt, to his knowledge, but his reputation amongst Andalites likely didn't matter to rebels.

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

Firin runs one of Rythil's hands over his head-horns.  "Yes we did.  If you recall, I didn't like it then either."  He shakes his head a bit...there had always been others willing to run the raids before...and other Hork-Bajir too...he feels Rythil's sadness and anger well up at that thought and quickly closes his mind off from that of his host.  The free Hork-Bajir on the base had been a true gem, each one liberated from Imperial palps...every single one would have to be...there were no more free Hork-Bajir still alive.  But with so many gone, Firin doubts he will still be afforded the luxury of having a Hork-Bajir host that is not used for battle.  And he would never leave Rythil, ever.  Not unless Rythil asked him to...so he would stick through the thick and the thin with his friend...really the only other being to earn that title from him.  "Necessities...neces sities."

It wasn't as if he and Rythil hadn't been trained in warfare...the Empire had used them for guards and shock-troops for nearly their entire time together.  It made sense for Keslin to include him.  He quickly runs a clawed hand over the respectable weapon in his hands...he'd have to try and dissect one of these little gems later.  He cycles the weapon through its different modes before leaving it on 'Safety.'

He glances at Nefitt darkly and talks lowly.  "Perhaps when there are a few less ears and tails around us."



Serid frowns at Nefitt before repressing a chuckle.  He knows his own race, and no longer shares their prejudices, but to see a Yeerk actually wrinkle his host's nose at an Andalite...the hypocrisy was almost laughable.

<Very well...Keslin.  I can direct us to the docking hangars...by your leave?>  Serid makes as much effort as he can to show a respectable deference to the Yeerk.  How odd...but Serid has a unique perspective, having been a human nothlit for many years of his life.  He had given an oath to uphold Prince Ossanlin and his ideals.  The miraculous recovery of his andalite body was enough to garner his loyalty besides.  So he would do his best to see Ossanlin's goals come to fruition, if at all possible.

[Shenmue654]

Keshin laughs, although the laugh sounds a bit bitter and awkward. He has no idea why in the world they sent him over to drop off the Taxxon--- Probably because the rest of the ship's business will go better if the two biggest liabilities are together and out of the way. Joanne's mind tugged at his own, as if suggesting "Don't forget me." Building trust was clearly going to take a long time, and at the rate it was going it might not happen at all. He wasn't sure there was a way to get around the many times he'd tried to murder Myitt One-Nine-Five.....let alone what happened to Ossanlin.

"We don't work for anyone except Ossanlin at the moment," he says to Varit to clarify. They're not far from the Pool at this point, although it's really more of an awkward portable construction. Neither Keshin or Joanne had any idea how either the Rebellion or the Andalites managed to get this thing together, but he was vaguely impressed. "We were contract killers and bounty hunters--- We took jobs from the Rebellion and the Empire in equal measure. As a result well..." Keshin puts his hand in the pocket of his jumpsuit. "...nobody on this ship trusts us at all. And we don't blame them--- We've got a history."

"As for the Taxxon..." Keshin frowns, his posture seeming uneven. "...it's rare to find one with an ounce of curiosity about anything but food. Does that have something to do with how he ended up in the Rebellion?"

[Aluminator (Kit)]

Aetheas nods absently as Ossanlin speaks, trying to remember what he'd read in Ferxal's personnel file. He'd only skimmed it briefly; there have been so many personnel files he's read in the last week, they all seem to be running together in his memory. Besides which, they're hardly the most interesting part of his training. The Captain seems to have gleaned more from Ferxal's file than he has.

Keeping his main eyes on Ossanlin, he orders his ARC to display the file in the air to his right side, and he skims it with his stalk eyes as the Captain speaks. He doesn't really manage to take any of it in, however. He's distracted by Ossanlin's words; words which spark thoughts going in a thousand different directions.

There's the reaction to what Ossanlin is actually saying. Leadership is a balancing act, a precarious line, a constant pull between taking risks and playing it safe, and he is certain he doesn't yet know where that line is. Leaders will fail, same as anyone else, but when he fails, the consequences can be disastrous. Even fatal. Aetheas finds himself nodding. <I hope I am ready when the time comes,> he says earnestly, though it is clear from his tone that he does not yet see command in his immediate future.

The rest of what runs through his mind is... more complicated. He finds himself staring at the Captain, trying to imagine a time when War-Prince Ossanlin can have failed... unsure whether he's simply imagined the hint of pain in the Captain's voice. He resolves to start spending more time with the personnel files-- all the personnel files, including Ossanlin's. Again, he finds himself in awe of Ossanlin, for more reasons than one. Nobody has ever taken Aetheas under their guidance before. Very seldom has anyone seemed to think he could amount to being anything more than a vecol, and for that reason, the only expectations he's ever really had to live up to have been his own. For the first time in as long as he can remember, he finds himself afraid that he won't be able to live up to the Captain's expectations-- to what this ship and its crew needs.

<I have been watching you,> he says to the War-Prince, <and the other commanders aboard. I believe I am beginning to understand what is required to command.> The seldom-seen hint of a smile crosses his eyes as he shuts off his ARC again. <Experience. I am attempting to see where the lines and appropriate restrictions are. I have never had to watch for the well-being of a crew before, aside from completing my duties.> He hesitates, and without explaining his thoughts, says, sincerely, <Thank you, Captain.>


Varit laughs and responds almost automatically, "Oddly, no. Not directly, anyway. That was mostly bad luck and poor decisions on my part." He takes a deep breath, sighing at the aroma of the nutrient-rich Yeerk pool. It's not exactly the Hilton, but it'll do. "Host sympathy is considered a weakness in the empire. I was unlucky enough to be found out. I was lucky enough to escape alive. I suppose having an... unusual Taxxon host helped to keep me sympathetic. Having friends in the Peace Movement didn't hurt either."

He finds himself eying Keshin warily. "A contract killer." He looks around-- something he can do without having to turn his head or body-- and then leans closer. "It seems like that would give you a very... unique skill-set. Potentially a very useful one." His voice is wavering, and it's clear to anyone who can read Taxxon responses that he's not entirely comfortable having this conversation. "But then... it would also make you very, very difficult to trust." He pauses, "I think I'm beginning to understand the way Keslin was looking at you."

"So," he says lightly, changing tones quickly, "where can I hang up my host so that I can feed?"

<<Me next!>> says Resseliss excitedly.

[Terenia]

"We do what we have to do," Keslin says, the words sounding forced even to him. He hitches a shoulder in an apologetic shrug and turns to Serid. "Yes, let's hurry. I want to get this over with." He pauses, then adds, "Thank you, Serid."


Nefitt frowns at Firin. "Wishful thinking," he mutters, clutching the first aid kit close. Still, he follows Keslin and Serid willingly enough.

[Chad32]

Ferxal was eager to get this started. Normally it was not proper to outpace the person in charge, but the Human's walking speed seemed so slow. Not that his impatient showed through the emotionless face that masked his deeper thoughts. He would have to keep a close eye on Keslin in the future. He was obviously a leader among the rebels, and Prince Ossanlin had given him a great privilege by allowing him to command Andalites.

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

Ossanlin nods to Aetheas, main eyes still on his console.  <<Command is both honor and burden.  I expect you'll be able to shoulder that burden.  You'll need to as TO.  I wouldn't have placed you in this situation, Aetheas, unless I believed that you could handle it.>>  He pauses a moment before continuing.  <<Respect is a two-way vein, Aetheas.  Show respect to everyone, that is the best way to earn it in return.  Respect and honor are bound as closely as shorm.  One cannot have honor without respect.  Self-control is also tantamount.  How can you expect to command others when you cannot master command of yourself?  You have great potential, Aetheas...I want you to fulfill it.>>



Serid nods again to Keslin.  <Very well, this way please.>  Serid makes his way down the corridors and ramp-wells to the docking hangar.  He moves quickly to the irregular hangar where he notes that a tactical transport has already been prepared for their arrival.  He shoulders his ASAR and commands the craft to open.  The smooth, oblong transport opens in the back, lights catching and glinting off of its silver hull.  He moves into the small space designed to transport up to ten Andalites including the pilots.  He begins the transport's warm-up sequence and turns his main eyes to regard Keslin.  <Do you wish to pilot, Keslin?>



Firin sighs and nods at Keslin.  He glowers a bit at Nefitt and quickly follows the group through the corridors, committing everything along the corridors and wells to his eidetic memory.  Once they reach the docking hangar again, he looks around at the bustling hub of activity.  To think, this ship was less than half-staffed, and still resembled a kicked anthill.  He fears to imagine what it must be like with a full complement of bluefurs.

[Shenmue654]

"That might be a bit of a problem," states Keshin, glancing hungrily at the churning liquid metal waters of the Pool. He was a tad peckish, given that he last ate about a day and a half ago, but it was nothing he couldn't tolerate. He had to get this Taxxon guy sorted out. "Most of the Rebellion hosts are human and so have little problem just standing around the pool, waiting for the Yeerk to resurface for them. There are a couple chairs and a wall over there," states Keshin awkwardly, pointing to the folding chair area. Again, he had no idea where the Rebellion got half of this crap. Maybe it came in via the last rendezvous?

What was worse was the primitiveness of it all--- The folding chairs reminded him of some dim memory of Joanne's elementary school graduation. Or a senior citizen Bingo event. He shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. "As for me....that's about the gist of it," he said carelessly. "Although I don't see how being good at killing people is going to help us in the War-Prince's hippy-happy spaceship of brotherhood."

[Terenia]

Keslin steps onto the ship, looking around the interior appreciatively. “No, Serid,” he says. “I’d prefer for you to pilot, actually.” He rests one hand gently on a console, getting a feel for the Andalite design. He can definitely sense the parallels between the transport and the Dome ship. There is something incredibly Andalite about it…though he cannot put his finger on how.

Nefitt continues to follow in relative silence, clutching the first aid kit as though it is his only line of protection, ignoring even the Dracon at his side. He stays a few feet behind Firin, taking care to avoid the Hork-Bajir’s big tail. When they enter the docking bay he does what he can to avoid the Andalites milling about, and the few that come too close for comfort earn scathing, suspicious glares.

He only seems to calm a little once he is on the ship, loosening his grip on the medical kit and eyeing the cabin curiously.

“Let’s make this quick,” Keslin says, glancing at Firin and Nefitt as they board. He keeps a small portion of his attention on Ferxal as well – the Andalite warrior is a completely unknown variable. Which, of course, means that it is best to make him feel a part of things.

“Ferxal,” he says, calling to the Andalite warrior. “Why don’t you come show me and my people the most effective way to utilize the ASAR’s without a telepathic connection. We’d appreciate the assistance.” He notes Nefitt’s obvious stiffening, but ignores it for the time being. The jumpy medic will have to learn.

[Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)]

<Very well, Keslin>  Serid makes his way to the front left console and places one hand on the interface panel, the other on the touch-panel controls.  He checks to make sure the whole team is aboard and commands the hatch to seal as the cabin air normalizes within its own recirculation system.  He lifts off and exits the Tyrennian through the selective shielding of the irregular bay.  <We have obtained U-space.>

He loops the transport around in a wide arc to face the damaged freighter and punches up a medium burn to close the distance.  Two of Lightning-strike's fighters form up as an escort as the ship flies smoothly toward the Yeerk craft.  Serid pilots the transport toward the freighter's one and only docking bay.  The emergency containment field is active, indicating the continued primary power failure aboard the vessel.  Emergency containment fields were made to be passable by any craft in a state of emergency, so the transport slides right through the reddish-gold energy field to touch down just inside.  <The interior appears vacant.>  Serid speaks up openly, though the comment is directed toward Keslin.




Firin represses Rythil's adrenaline spike as the craft hits black space.  He begins running through combat routines in his head as the ARC HUD mounted over his right eye continues to give him real-time holographic overlays on the environment.  It even highlights those aboard the ship in a green hue.  Oh yes, the technology had many possible ramifications.

He fights the anxiety in both his own mind and that of Rythil as the transport passes through that reddish-gold barrier.  Setting foot once again on an Imperial craft is something that makes both uncomfortable.