Two Minor Cycles Later, Ruktan Class Frigate, Command Bridge.

After our surrender, Randax quickly seized control of the ship, commanding the crew to hand over all command passcodes. He allowed them to continue their duties under guard. He then attempted to contact all the vessels I sent down, demanding their surrender. Neither of them replied with anything except communication static. This didn't deter him; he ordered the communications officer to keep repeating his demands. After some time Randax brought several other prisoners onto the bridge, including Zatrophos and even a cuffed and surly Zekton. Now with a line of prisoners forced to their knees including myself, Gem, Elkra and Grisha. We all awaited his judgement.

All lined up next to each other, I was on the very end, Elkra beside me with Grisha, Gem, Zatrophos and Zekton. Randax was seated quite comfortably in the command chair glaring down at us. Behind him wearing a peculiar Demthesian Legionnaire uniform was Xirak. His left-hand hand was placed on the command chair as he gazed down as well. His uniform intrigued me, it had the same general Legion design except it was completely black. Leaning back in the chair the Wokan glares down at us. His gaze appears to be a victor laid upon the defeated.

He glances from side to side as if surveying us all. His gaze then plants itself in the general direction of Zekton and Zatrophos. I glance over to them whilst panting heavily. Squinting my eyes, I can spot the sour looks on their faces. Observing the direction of their gazes, I can see what there scowling at. Xirak was clearly the target of their scorn, something the two have in common. Whilst I am observing events, Randax speaks up. "I can see that your angry, but you both must understand that allies are necessary for this war." His voice is monotone and serious, I can't tell if there is any voracity behind that statement. Yet I can understand the perspective, in war there can be no half-measures.

Naturally, the two Wokans did not respond well to that, with Zekton roaring in anger. "You filthy traitor, low clutch birthed from a cross clutch bearer!" Of course, his tone was a little higher than Randax's. He sounds like a writhing beast raging against the cage in search of meat. As for his statement, I think he just called Randax's mother a whore, truly the Wokan has mastered the art of trash talk.

In response, neither Randax nor Xirak reacts to his statement. Both remain as calm as they always are until randax spoke up. His gaze moves towards Xirak as if ignoring the raging Wokan. "If I can recall you were good friends with the former commander of this vessel... Correct?" Xirak nods slightly in affirmation, prompting Randax to return a nod. Observing the two I try to discern their intentions. With time the bridge entrance opens drawing everyone's attention. The sight was familiar, narrowing upon a single individual. Kuma the indignant Wokan I met some time ago.

He is dragged into the bridge by several Garudan soldiers, wearing ceremonial uniforms and sporting laser rifles. Once arriving at the centre his restraints were removed, prompting his confused look. The fear in his eyes was obvious, yet the actions of Xirak were most peculiar. Walking towards Kuma he withdrew a sheathed plasma dagger, placing the weapon in Kuma's shaking hands. Then turning to a still-raging Zekton he preceded to drag the Wokan opposite to Kuma and repeated the process. Unshackling him and placing a weapon in his hand, Zekton activated the plasma blade and proceeded to stab Xirak.

Quickly Xirak expertly dodged the edge of the blade, before restraining Zekton with a swift grapple. Pushing him down and kicking him in the chest, Zekton hunched over, heaving in pain. Returning to his position beside Randax. Xirak begins to speak. "Fight, whoever survives will be given his life and a chance to begin anew." The nonchalant in his voice was obvious to behold. The situation before him seems to be a simple matter.

Both Kuma and Zekton turned to Xirak in confusion, neither said a word merely gawking. "Well then, begin." Randax pronounced as if impatient to view the fight with his own eyes. Both remained still as if frozen in fear or perhaps a reticence to perform such actions. Though I find the hesitation peculiar, then again, they are odd beings.

Breaking the silence, I hear Gem shouting at the top of his voice. "My child, please don't do this, there is no need for such madness." He is quickly silenced by a Garudan soldier slamming the end of his rifle into his back. Gem hunches over in pain, and Randax barely acknowledges the act, merely gazing at the gladiatorial event.

Both Zekton and Kuma remain still, with Zekton finally speaking up with hatred in his eyes. "You bastard, you command me to fight my own clutch-kin, you are no different to the Demthesian filth, you stain your birth!" The voracity in his voice shows his true hatred, boiling to the surface as he glowers at Randax. Suddenly and out of the blue, Kuma lunges forward weapon drawn.

Slashing in a downward angle, aiming for a confused Zekton's upper body. The blade narrowly misses his neck slashing his arm, with a deep cut. Blood starts to flow out of the wound spraying the floor. Zekton leaps back with a confused rage. "Why Kuma, you are my clutch-kin, we are born of the same bearer!" Roaring his indignant words, he questions his apparent brother.

Kuma neither acknowledges nor answers. Simply leaping forward with an aggressive charge. Zekton reacts as if by impulse, knocking the incoming dagger to the side and grappling his arms. The two remain in a contest of strength, Kuma struggling to hold onto his weapon and Zekton pressing the weapon away. Dropping his own dagger to his lower left hand, Zekton holds the blade stationary with clear access to his enemy's stomach. Yet he does not strike, while Kuma struggles to turn the blade back on course.

Roaring loudly Kuma presses forward with ferocity, prompting an expression of indecision to cross his face. Kuma's blade presses forward, slightly nicking Zekton's neck drawing a meagre amount of blood. The blade ready to sink into flesh was only held back by raw strength. As if in a moment, time stopped and Zekton gripped his lowered dagger. Kuma desperately tries to slay his opponent.

A moment passes and the loud roar or perhaps cry can be heard leaving Zekton's throat. The sound of a dagger sinking into flesh reverberates throughout the bridge, showcasing the conflict's conclusion. The next thing I knew, Kuma lay sprawled on the ground, dead with a dagger piercing his chest.

Zekton remained motionless as if in a daze, staring at his handiwork. Before anything further happens, he drops to his knees and began to weep. The site was odd and baffled me. This man, this Wokan, who had slaughtered Demthesian officers without mercy, was weeping like a child over Kuma's corpse. Before Zekton can rise, Randax approaches, furiously grabbing him by the neck and driving him to the ground.

The next few moments were filled with blood and the wet sounds of fists against flesh. Randax almost in a rage started beating him senselessly. Blood was splattering everywhere, the Wokan thrashed with reckless abandon. Blow by blow, Zekton was smothered in blood and pain. It truly appeared as if the ruthless rebel would die, pummelled by his own kind.

Randax rose to his feet, heaving heavily with exhaustion. His fists were slick with blood. The Demthesian moved to his side, some sort of cloth in hand. Randax grasped the aid and began futilely wiping the blood away. Once he had finished and he was moderately clean, he turned back to me. His expression was cold and unemotional. His past actions didn't seem to faze him in the least.

Approaching me, he fastens the strange gauntlet to his fist. The Demthesian handed it to him, like some sort of servant. Arriving in front of me, I lurched over emanating sheer discomfort. Eyeing his form, I noticed the sword strapped to his hip. It was nothing fancy, in fact, it was downright primitive. A leather sheath was strapped to his belt by rope. Truly a strange contrast to the technology around us.

Leaning down, he grabs my chin, propping me up for conversation. Gazing into my eyes, he began to speak with a monotone voice. Unlike Zekton's false bravado, this one I believed in. "What your feeling, don't fight it. Many do so, expecting they can beat it." His eyes gesture to my shaking form as he continues. "I have been where you are, I have fought that losing battle. There is no need, you can embrace the pain, embrace suffering. In the end, we grow strong." His voice sounded sombre, almost inviting. It sounded like a genuinely cared and wanted to help. An odd mixture of sincerity and lunacy, I find this man a true oddity.

Everyone around me started growing nervous. Each of them was clearly worried and it was exposed on their faces. Leaning down further to face me, he placed his gauntleted hand on my shoulder. "Don't struggle, just accept it as I did and you will be liberated." He spoke again in that damnable voice of sincerity. Reaching back, he readied to plunge the gauntlet into my neck.

Before it could reach me, I shifted to the side dodging the strike. Almost like clockwork the lights on the bridge turned off and plunged us into darkness. With my night vision, I reached for his sword. Tearing the blade from its sheath and rolling to the side. Igniting the blade with its blue glow, I slice my bonds apart and ready my stance. Two Wokan soldiers behind me, confused and alert. Before me is Randax and his Demthesian confederate. The prisoners are still lined up, bound and kneeling. To the right are a few Garudan priests or perhaps holy warriors.

Regardless of the circumstance, I acted swiftly. Swinging behind me I slice the two Wokan in half. I was surprised by how well the blade sank into flesh and passed through them. It was like cutting air, their bodies separated at the waist. With those two dispatched I ran forward and undid the bonds of the standing Zatrophos just as the lights came back on. We both turned to witness Randax ordering his people to aim for their weapons. I rushed forward, to engage Randax in close quarters while Zatrophos dove to the side. Laser fire sparked forth from several bared weapons. I managed to reach him unscathed and drew down my blade in a slash.

The attack didn't connect, instead, the searing blade caught his gauntlet. To my surprise, the piece of attire wasn't immediately cut in half. It seemed to resist the blade's heat. I could see Randax gritting his teeth from the heat, likely searing his flesh. He roared in anger and sent a front kick, setting me off balance. I recovered quickly only to see him fleeing. Yes, he was actually fleeing towards the exit. The two Garudan priests went with him, while a few Garudans armed with rifles aimed them at me. I raised my weapon as if I could defend against it.

I turned my gaze to my precarious situation. Two armed Garudans were ready to fire and the Demthesian was ready also. The situation suddenly turned around when the sight of Zatrophos barrelling into the object of his hatred. He brought the Demthesian to the ground and started pounding on him with furious anger. The laser pistol dropped to the ground and slid to my feet. A strangely advantageous situation, I wonder how that occurred. The Garudans stared at the weapon at my feet and resolved to fire, which they did.

Opening fire with a flash of red light. The energy ejects from their weapons and blazes towards me. Before my head can be vaporised, I shift the blade into a guard position. I had not expected anything but was pleasantly surprised. The beam was dispersed upon contact or more precisely absorbed. The blade then glowed brighter as if the shot charged it with energy. The two Garudans were very surprised, they likely had not expected their divine weapons to fail.

With the lull in the battle providing an opening. I leapt forward like a predator and slashed the two from shoulder to waist. The blade cut cleanly and tore them apart as if they were nothing. Once the bloody deed had been performed, I turned back to the last enemy. Zatrophos had clearly beaten the Demthesian black and blue. The man was indeed injured, still upright with Zatrophos laid out.

He turned to me noticing my blood-smeared state, weapon in hand. Gesturing the blade to him, I readied myself for a clash. Instead, he fled, faster than I had ever seen a being flee. He traversed the bridge in the blink of an eye and exited through the open door. Likely to trail after his lord and master. I thought of chasing him but had other issues to deal with.

I quickly moved over to remove the bonds of my associates. With each of them freed, they armed themselves and followed behind me. Traversing the ship, we made it to the docking bay, unmolested. Apparently, Randax's soldiers followed along with him and are now concentrated in the docks. Our group reached the open doorway and quickly moved back as several shots were fired. We all took cover, Gem and Zatrophos both armed with laser rifles, ducked down to the right of the doorway. Elkra and Grisha both armed with pistols did the same.

We all nodded to each other, communicating our readiness. Entering the docking bay, Zatrophos ran for the nearest cover. Settling down behind some crates, while laser fire is being slung around haphazardly. We await a lull in the battle as sharp red beams of death rain down upon us. My comrades remain behind their respective covers. Neither getting a good shot in. Finally, the lull we have been waiting for arrives. Both I and Zatrophos smile at each other. Conveying orders as easily, with a simple nod. Both of us rise quickly, taking stock of our opponents and then shooting to kill.

Aiming my recently obtained laser rifle, I dispatched two Garudan zealots. They foolishly peeked outside of their cover and lost their heads as a result. Zatrophos on the other hand went ballistic and began firing with reckless abandon. Fuelled by rage he sought to slay as many of the enemies as he could. It's as if he treated the Garudan zealots as stand-ins for his hatred of Demthesia. Mists of red showered the battlefield, with every shot an, enemy limb is removed. Concerned by his ravenous hunger for death, I turned to him and grabbed his left shoulder. None too soon as a shot zips by, grazing his right shoulder.

I pull the grunting Wokan to the ground, securing him behind cover. He snarls at me, more out of pain rather than anger. I snarl back mockingly before returning to the battle. Peeking out, I detected around seven Garudans in cover, all brandishing laser rifles. Randax, his Demthesian collaborator and a few Wokan are taking cover just in front of a ship's ramp. I turned back to my allies and signal them to advance to the cover beside us. Gem, Grisha, Sok and Elkra move forward at a quick pace, diving down behind the crate. Missing a few stray shots marking the metal crates with a glowing red heat.

Now with the six of us side by side, we all open fire in unison. The battle goes on for a time, each side trading shots, neither giving any ground. Suddenly another lull in the battle. Silence pervades the docking bay; the sound of a voice pierces the tense situation. "Navarkos, that is the name my father gave you?" The voice of Randax echoes in the vast space of the dock, heard clearly by all.

Silence descends once more before I decided to reply. Instead, another person cuts in abruptly. "My son, stop this foolishness and lay down your arms... Think of our clutch, we can still return to the way things once were." There was such raw emotion in Gem's words. He truly believed in them, this was not a rouse or a ploy. He believed he could convince his wayward son to surrender.

In response, the loud bellowing laugh of Randax reverberated across the scene. Slowly decreasing in volume until only a chuckle remained. "It is much too late for that father. What I have done cannot be forgotten, even with forgiveness nor a return to the old ways." His voice lowered and a strange sense of sorrow could be heard. Strange for an emotion to be heard instead of seen. He continued speaking as both sides listened. "There is only the way forward and I shall walk it. I will tread through an ocean of blood if need be. So, don't bother, I have already decided." With that word of finality, he commands his followers to open fire, as he makes his way onto the ship.

Realising he will escape; I peek out the side and let loose a barrage of laser fire. Ending the life of two Garudans and then peppering the ramp with scorched metal. Randax rolls unsteadily to the side. With this chance, I ordered my compatriots to lay down some cover fire. Moving to the right side I leapt towards the large container, to the side. Dodging several shots, before running around the side. Withdrawing the plasma sword, I ignited the blade. Turning around the container I charged the enemy's flank. Two of them anticipate the attack and opened fire. I catch their futile shots with the blade, absorbing the energy.

Leaping towards them, I drive the blade into the Garudan on the left. Driving the blade on a downward angle into his chest. Turning my rifle to the right, I fire a concentrated blast into his head. Searing a small opening in his skull. Both drop dead as I withdraw the blade from the corpse. Looking up I charge forward ready to catch Randax unawares, he takes cover. I fire off a shot, only for it to hit a Garudan soldier who leapt in the way.

The Garudan's death bought Randax enough time to climb the ramp, with the rest of his men. Disappearing into the ship the ramp ascends. I arrived at the ship's entrance and plunge the plasma sword into the solid metal. It slides in like a knife through flesh. Ready to slice a hole into the ship, I hear a voice. Distorted as if through a communications system. "Please stop that, you are ruining a perfectly good ship." Undeterred by his words I continued to cut through the ship's hull. Crafting a wide enough opening I enter the scolding crevice. The heat barely fell as I travel into the ship's bowls. Once passing the threshold, the sound of scraping metal and a loud thud resounds. Turning back, I noticed I am trapped. Some sort of blast door descended from the ceiling, cutting off my entrance.

Gripping my sword and rifle tight in both hands, I listen for threats. The sound of soft footsteps pattering across the metallic floor. Turning to gauge my opponent, I detect the presence of Randax, strangely alone. He is wielding a small laser pistol and some sort of rod, emitting dazzling electricity. We both take in each other's presence, neither moving a step. Only our eyes trace each other's form. With a flash, I raise my rifle to fire, only for it to explode in my hand. The shattered weapon fell to the ground just as I noticed the skilful shot, Randax fired from his hip.

He had with quick and elegant movement, raised his weapon, aimed it accurately, shooting my own rifle, right out of my hand. With my weapon disabled, my thoughts instantly turned to my final option. I quickly raise the plasma sword, to absorb the next shot. If I hadn't, no doubt my head would have had a new hole. Emboldened by my success I charged him with all my strength. Attacking with a diagonal slash from the left, I aim for his pistol. In response he pulls back, keeping his weapon away from my reach. He then parries my sword with his electrified rod, sending me back a few steps.

I readjust, swiping his parry away with my own counter. Passing the blade across his person, I noticed the rod resisted the intense heat of the blade. Clearly, the rod was more than a simple shock baton. I stepped back as he swiped me with the rod, narrowly missing my chest. He then raises his pistol to fire at close range. I pushed forward, intent on ducking under his guard and quickly dash into his right shoulder. Bringing the sword in defence of his, wild off-hand attack with the rod.

The impact was enough to push him off balance, dropping his pistol. With the initiative again in my grasp, I press the advantage. Delivering a left hook to his jaw, I threw him off balance. Instead of falling to his back, he extends his lower limbs to brace his fall. Ending up in a leaning position, his lower arms holding himself up like a plank. Before I can do anything, he uses the momentum to land a double-footed kick into my chest, sending me flying back. The impact has way more force than I thought possible and sent me reeling to the ground.

Ending up on my back, I scrabbled to get up, my chest heaving in pain. Still, I endured the pain and rose to my feet, quickly as I could. Once both of us had risen to stand positions, an announcement came over the ship-wide communications system. The baritone voice of his Demthesian collaborator echoed in the cargo hold, we found ourselves in. "Sir, they have locked me out of the docking system. I can't open the port for an exit." These words rang in our ears, and the meaning behind them was clear. This ship was not going anywhere, while the dock was under our control.

I turned to Randax, expecting him to come to the same conclusion. Instead, he was calm, with only a faint grin on his face before he spoke. "Then make one." With those three words, I understood what he meant and clearly, the Demthesian did too. After he returned an affirmation over the communications system, a whirring sound could be heard. I recalled that sound, it was the front-mounted Gatling lasers charging up. The crazy alien was about to open fire on the docking porthole, to blow his way out.

With this knowledge, I pressed my attack with reckless abandon. Reaching him in an instant I sliced down my sword to his right shoulder. He deflected it easily, before delivering an uppercut with two of his fists. The pain dazed me, but I kept the pressure on. I adjusted my blade to perform a lunging strike. Again, he easily parried it with a sidestep. Knocking my strike out of the way, he let loose several strikes to my left shoulder. The electrified baton seared my clothes down to the flesh. I winced from the pain but kept my attack going.

He chuckled softly, staring at me with a derisive gaze, before delivering his words in a mocking tone. "Come on, Navarkos, prove yourself to your namesake," I ignored his verbal jab and instead switched tactics. I made a break for the corridor behind him. He easily sidestepped to block me. In a mad dash, I adjusted my grip and made a sideways slash, aiming for his mid-section. He blocked the incoming blade with a simple block. The slight advantage allowed me to jump over to the side, granting me a path to the corridor.

I fell into a sprint and raced towards the bridge. Before I can advance two steps, a striking pain seared my back. Forcing me down. Slumping for a short while, I quickly look back to see the electrified baton, clunking onto the floor and my back smoking. He had just thrown the baton with pinpoint accuracy, straight into my back. The jolt of electricity stiffened my body and at that moment I could barely move. Granting my foe enough time to advance upon me and bring me to the floor. I dropped my sword which clattered a short distance from my grip. I reached out towards the weapon, intent on grasping it. Instead, another searing pain emanated from my back.

Looking back, I can see Randax grasping the baton, before ruthlessly bringing it down on me. The pain was intense with every blow, threatening to render my mind fog. Blow after blow, he sent the searing pain to the four corners of my body, intent on keeping me down. "Pain is how we learn!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, before bringing down another strike. "It is through pain do we understand!" Another strike, stunting my efforts to retrieve my weapon. "I take no pleasure in this, only the assurance that it must be done!" He pauses for a moment, no longer impressing upon me any more pain. "We all must learn and only then will we be complete." Unlike his prior rant, this one was tinged with sorrow. Yet this did not deter him and he brought down another strike.

Before it could reach me, I summoned my meagre strength to grasp the sword. Turning back and with everything I have, I sank the blade into his side. He made a gurgled grunt as the blade no longer energised, slipped deeply into his left side. Falling back, the blade slipped out, sending a gout of blood from his wound. Managing to grasp his wound he applies pressure, stemming the bleeding. With my chance I rise to my feet, intent on finishing the job. Only to notice the metallic glimmer in his lower right hand. Raising his reclaimed pistol to me, he opens fire. As quickly as I can, I roll away towards the ship's exit. Narrowly missing the shot, I rise to my feet, and the pain threatens to bring me down.

Suddenly the sound of an explosion rings out. I knew exactly what that was and what it meant for my companions. I turned to face him and noticed he was gripping a handrail on the side of the wall. He smiled at me with a toothy grin, before calling out loudly. "Open the ramp blast doors!" He coughed a mouthful of blood before levelling the pistol in my direction. He fired three shots almost immediately in quick succession. Bringing my blade up I managed to negate the first shot, but the rest hit me. One grazed my left shoulder, the other hit my right thigh, but the third hit me centre mass in the chest.

I barely felt the shots hit; it was much too fast for my brain to acknowledge the damage. But what I did acknowledge was his mocking voice. "Now were even." He spoke those words if he was not bleeding to death and I soon would be. Of course, before I could reply the blast doors opened and I was pulled out of the ship. The force was incredible, it could not be contended with. I could see myself passing through the ship's hull. Arriving outside I witnessed the ship vacating through a massive crevice, in the docking port bay. On the other side was the sucking darkness of space, threatening to destroy all life.

Coming to my senses, for a single moment I realised that I was about to die. Quickly I energised the sword and rammed down the blade into the nearest solid object. Which in this case was the floor. The blade sank in easily, just as the freezing cold set in. I quickly disengaged the blade's energy field, before I could be pulled any further. Everything happened too fast and my eyes started to darken. Yet I remained firm and held onto the hilt as if it was life itself. I heard several faint voices in the distance, attempting to compete with the loud vacuum.

Ignoring these sounds, I focused everything on the sword. It was my lifeline, my salvation and the only thing keeping me from dying in the depths of space. Time passed by, only nano cycles but they could have been ages, for all I knew. I held and held, never letting go. Until my gaze darkened and darkness took me with its sweet embrace.

Unknown Cycles Later, Ruktan Class Frigate, Medical Bay.

I awoke groggily, pain brought me to my senses. I grunted in protest, trying to ascend to a seated position. Casting my gaze across the room I discovered I was lying carefully on a medical bed. The deactivated medical automaton was situated beside my bed. Looking around I could see a desolate room, only populated by medical paraphernalia. The only exception is the presence of Grisha seated next to me. She was seated upright, with her inquisitive gaze cast directly onto me. She was either expecting me to wake up or just now noticed me.

I turned to her, taking in her appearance. She looked as calm as she always is, merely gazing at me intently. I decided to speak first, shrugging off the aches and pains. "Did you wait for long?" I asked her, genuinely curious to see if she did. She of course gestured in the negative, something I had anticipated. Instead of replying she only put on a wide smile. It was sincere and anyone would believe she was happy with my recovery. I decide to query about what happened. She explained it to me with a short series of events.

Apparently, Randax left the solar system after we took control of the Ruktan's weapons system. After all, was said and done, Gem decided to take a ship and follow his wayward child to bring him back. He has been gone ever since, sending back a few communications every once and a while. He requested that I make a promise to find his other son Lotha. Give him a proper burial, if I can. The rest of the prisoners were released and order on the ship was restored. I took comfort in that, yet something else was nagging at me.

I dropped my head, glancing at the soft white blanket draped over me. I sighed softly, before reclaiming enough energy for the coming situation. "So... How long have you been working with Randax?" Asking the question blankly and without any noticeable expression, I await an answer.

Turning to face her, I noticed her head tilted to the side. She cast her gaze downwards, her eyes flickering for a time before she looks back. "How did you know?" She answered simply, still with a lack of any noticeable expression of emotion. Of course, Wokan is difficult to read and yet there is a subtlety to their expression, you can spot.

I equally decided not to express any outward emotion, the ease of that concerned me. It's likely part of my personality or perhaps a side effect of mental programming. I shrug off this thought, before speaking. "I had suspected there was someone aboard this ship feeding information. This was verified by Randax himself when he reached for the vial." Explaining myself, my words seem to lure out confusion her.

Her confusion fades after a time, giving way to realisation and acceptance. She paused for a moment, speaking once more. "I have been working with Randax ever since the mutiny. He seemed more reasonable than Zekton, so I sent him a few communiques every once and a while." Bringing herself back into that same monotone expression and voice. She continues with her explanation. "I kept him up to date with Zekton's affairs, providing him with intelligence on well, everything that occurs on this ship." Finally, after confessing her part in Randax's plan, her head drops down. It is clear speaking about this, has evoked some unsettling emotions.

I remained stoic and spoke bluntly. "What did you get out of this arrangement?" I asked her, studying the intricate design of the medical automaton. It was truly well crafted, a marvel of Demthesian ingenuity.

Her head raised to look at me, and I could see her from my peripheral vision. She appeared to be a little confused and slightly fearful. Pausing for a short while, she inhaled a deep breath. "I was his eyes and ears on board, he would keep the others off my back... There are very few female crewmembers onboard and during Zekton's reign, well let's just say it's not a good position to be in." The meaning behind her words was obvious, anyone with half a brain could understand.

I wanted to speak up and query further, but it seemed like a sensitive subject. I am not sure why I see it that way, it's an odd feeling to be sure. I decided to let her continue without judgement. "If I worked for him, I would have a position with whatever he was doing and that seemed the best option considering." She let her words hang in the air, trailing off until a whisper could be heard. She ended her explanation with a final question. "Will you kill me?" A faint whisper as her head slumped, waiting for my fury.

I didn't react and in truth, I understood everything she did. In her place, I would have likely done the same. It was pragmatic and tactical when faced with many potential opponents, playing all sides until an optimal end. I turned to her, gazing into her three eyes as if I could see into her very soul. I am not sure if souls exist, I may look into that later. Hmm well back on track, I looked at her and spoke in a calm tone. "No, I won't kill you. You made the best of your situation; I can't fault a tactical move for self-preservation." Leaving my statement hanging, I noticed a change in her expression and I think it was shocking. With this momentum, I decided to shift the subject. "Besides, I need you Grisha, for a most important task." I face her directly just as she comes out of her initial shock.

She tilts her head in confusion, something I have noticed she does a lot. Tilting her head to the other side, she speaks. "What do you need me to do?" Asking her question, she shifts in her chair, clearly uncomfortable. I had not planned to make her uncomfortable. Of course, it's not every day you find out, a close ally had been informing you about the enemy.

I chuckled at her words and showed a wide smile. "I need your help to save a world, specifically the one down there." I directed her with a single nod, towards the port window exposing the depths of space. Within that blackness is the large green sphere, known as the planet Garuda. Host to a sentient race stuck in the age of swords and spears. I turned back to her and spoke my final request. "So, will you help me save the world?" She pondered this for a moment, and after a few nano cycles, she responded with a smile. Nodding her head in affirmation, she sent me a silent agreement, to aid my cause.