the Cynapse Zone

[Cylapse]

Cynapse Collection Thread

the Passerby

“Open your eyes, Jacen…” the voice whispered.
“It’s time to wake up…”

An intense hum echoed in the back of his mind… it continued to pound at his migrane, prodding him to a harsh awakening in a groggy state. Light flooded his eyes as he opened them, seeping in from a large crack in the hull of the ship.

“Looks like we landed eh…” Loxx shuffled away from the light and crouched into a corner, laying his head to rest on folded arms as he tried to settle the disorienting daze that drifted thru his head.

Jacen Loxx was the pilot of the Starship Twilight, an Escort-Class vessel that was assigned to survey the remains of Aldan IV. Once a thriving Cynapse outpost, it had been reduced to rubble several years ago by an Amon’Krie fleet hellbent on claiming the Aldan System. He was one of two crewman assigned to the Twilight.

“Commander Mercer…?” Loxx called…and then it hit him.
The Commander must have taken the controls shortly before the crash, as Loxx’s lack of sleep had taken a heavy toll during their trip, and he remembered warning Mercer that would set the auto-pilot before catching any sleep. Did the Commander try to land the ship himself?…

Loxx approached the pilot’s chair in slow, uneven steps… his right leg trembled slightly as one hand reached out to spin it around to face him. A smashed and disfigured face was his eye-candy, as the Commander’s dead body slumped over and into Loxx’s arms.

“God...” he paused, idley running a hand over a shattered face to close the eyes of the dead. “I’m sorry, David.” He whispered. “But you were a fuçking fool to try and land this thing…and now you’re dead, and I am stranded…”

No sooner did the words leave his lips, did guilt strike him a heavy suckerpunch. He was the pilot of this vessel, not Mercer, it was –his- responsibility to guide it to safety. But instead, his need to celebrate the maiden flight of the SS Twilight had landed him sleepless and hungover, and Mercer must have taken the controls…as a result, here he was, stuck in a broken ship only 3 days old, cradling a disfigured dead man.

He looked down and grasped Mercer’s left hand between his.
“I had no idea you were married, Commander…Good choice on the ring, almost as nice as mine.” He smiled, recalling the same words as spoken by his wife 6 months ago. “We had a lot more in common than I had thought, David. Looks like both our wives are in for a bit of bad news eh…”

A heavyset sigh escaped his chest as he rose to his feet. It was time to salvage what was left of the situation… Loxx left the bridge and climbed down a short ladder leading to the ship’s cargo hold. He snatched a small survival pack before making his way back up to the command deck.

He dropped the pack in utter horror. The chair had been turned back around to face the controls, and the Commander was dead at his console, as Loxx had originally found him. The humming sound started again as the stress of his trauma began to overwhelm him.

Adreneline raged thru his veins as he stared in disbelief at the apparent un-doing of his actions…his thoughts raced in a chaotic discord…

Maybe the Commander wasn’t happy laying dead on the floor? Maybe he wasn’t dead?…What if this was some sort of joke… yeah… That has to be it… A sick joke…a sick ****ing joke.”

Loxx narrowed his eyes and reached for his sidearm, a polished Machman VII; top of the line particle weapon developed by the Cynapse Syndicate.

“You know, Mercer, I really thought we could have worked it out. But apparently, you know no sanity.”

Loxx opened fire in 3 steady bursts, each one searing through the chair and scarring the titanium walls of the Twilight’s hull. His headache was relentless…
“What do you want, God damnit? I said I was sorry! You’re not a drinker or a pilot, so you wouldn’t understand, Commander…but you tried to be. I’d give you 4 points for effort.”

As Loxx began to regain his composure, he found himself losing something else…It was as if speaking to this dead man brought him comfort… Allieviated the guilt…perhaps they could salvage the situation further…

-------------------------------------

Loxx loaded several supply bags into the onboard shuttlecraft, which although damaged, showed some promise at-a-glance. There was obvious thruster damage, but the diagnostic results said it would fly. He also recharged the cell in his weapon, should he encounter anything…unappreciative of his presence.

As he slid into the Pilot’s chair he took a moment to run his hands over the controls before turning and offering a deep smile to the dead man in the Co-Pilot’s chair.
“Commander Mercer, we are ready for lift-off. Pre-flight tests check out, and we’re lifting this baby outta the bay…”

Loxx guided the shuttle slowly out of the mangled bay of the Twilight and brought it to a half-throttle thrust, achieving a low altitude as he soared the small craft above the rocky terrain… Seems that Mercer’s landing left them on a small island, nowhere near any other land masses.
As Loxx tried to circle the Island in an attempt to pick up speed, a warning beacon flashed indicating an engine failure…The port-side thruster was out, causing a sudden dip in altitude… Loxx prevented a full crash, instead managing to set the shuttle down near a crumbled facility, apparently an old Research Center.

“Well old friend…” he spoke to his dead Commander. “Looks like we get to live here from now on… The shuttle’s replicator should suffice for a few months, and you… well, you wont need any food, will ya? Heh. Guess not. I’ll go take a look around, you sit tight.”

He stepped from the shuttle and cast a gaze up at the open sky…The clouds were quite swift today, sweeping across the sky in a rolling gust… almost as fast as that… starship…?
Loxx stood in disbelief…A large cruiser was passing by overhead, although it was not Cynapse in design or construction… It bore the markings of the Amon’Krie.

He scrambled back into the shuttle and sealed the door, his hands gripping his pistol as his paniced breathing took over.
“Commander! It’s the Amon’Krie! They’ve found us.”
Loxx tossed an extra firearm into the lap of the dead man, in some small way trusting that he had backup.
“Ok…Ok…we’ve gotta think here. I’m open to suggestions?” He stared intently at Mercer, expecting an answer. “Fine. I’ll figure this out myself. Lay low for now, I’ll come back after I’m done dealing with our friends out there…sit tight buddy.”

Loxx crept out of the shuttle, his eyes panning and scanning along the skies for any sign of the intruder…the Amon’Krie. He made his way away from the shuttle and ruins, crawling thru nearly 2 acres of shrub in a vain attempt to stay concealed and protected from enemy fire.

He finally made his way to a large tree and hoisted himself up high enough to catch an overview of the surrounding terrain. He spotted the research facility in the distance, but couldn’t make out the shuttle…it should have been right there. But nothing... as if the shuttle never left the bay. Another sick joke, perhaps?

He climbed a little higher, but still, nothing… Not even a trace of the Amon’Krie cruiser in the sky. He did see something though, a metalic glimmer near the shore.

Loxx dropped from the tree and scrambled towards the shoreline, where a cascade of waves washed against the sandy beach to offer a serene view of a turbulent ocean. In the shallow depths of the reef, Loxx saw the large object that had caught his eye… as he waded closer, he was able to make out the engraved designation on its side.

SS Twilight – Escape Pod 1 – CX245-01

Curiousity engulfed him like a blanket as he worked feverishly to pry open the damaged pod…a loud metallic groan echoed throughout as he managed to jimmy the hatch, and he pulled it aside to reveal a watery grave, the final resting place of Commander David Mercer. His face was in near mint condition, only adding to the confusion that had assaulted Loxx’s mind since the crash…as he stood there in the water, trying to piece it together, a thousand realizations bombarded him at once.

--------------------------------------

The Amon’Krie vessel ‘Kezalla’ landed near the remains of a smashed escort on the lonely planet of Aldan IV. Its Commander stood outside, gazing over the broken ship named ‘Twilight’.

“Report, Sub-Commander Tenza?” the Amon’Krie Commander queried.
“A simple crash, my leige. There were two humans onboard, according to the ship’s logs. Apparently the ship experienced auto-pilot malfunctions as they neared the planet. The Commander had jettisoned in an escape pod, which we have located near the shore, while the pilot stayed onboard, apparently trying to land the ship. We have performed an autopsic scan and confirmed that the cause of death was the craft’s impact with the planet. We also noticed that the pilot’s blood-alcohol level was at near-fatal levels. He may have been passed out at the controls, which could explain their plight.”

The Amon’Krie Commander cackled outright.
“A pathetic display of carelessness on the part of our enemies, Tenza… Gather the bodies and bring the Cynapse ship in tow, we will analyze it back at the base.”

With that, the Amon’Krie left the planet, leaving behind the broken memories of two dead men…One, a spineless commander at peace within a watery grave. And the other, a careless pilot lost in limbo, a confused prison where he suffers an eternity, oblivious to his own death.

[ June 19, 2002, 03:32: Message edited by: Cynapse ]

[Cylapse]

the Spies are Due on Deck 12

...A soft tone sounded twice in succession, indicating an incoming hail to the Communications officer...
"Captain..." she began, Syra was her name. "We have an incoming transmission, its on a broadwave frequency."
Jarren Caid ascended the short platform leading to his command chair, having just recently arrived on the bridge.
"I take it that means you can't isolate it?" he replied, claiming his seat and activating a private display. "Put it through."
Syra complied dutifly, dancing her fingers along the console to decipher and relay the message to the main viewer. She bit her lip in anticipation as she offered her captain an honest look through hazel eyes.
"Audio only, sir." she stated, instead channeling the hail to the speakers.
The captain lifted his chin and listened, expressing a look of quiet impatience as he ran thumb and forefinger along his goatee.

Silence. Caid turned and offered his junior officer an inquisitive look before finally standing from his perch.
"This is Captain Caid, commanding the Starship Xephyr...respond."
His eyes shifted to the body of Ensign Syra, glimpsing perhaps a bit too long before finally catching her eyes.
"The channel is open, everything checks out..." she paused a moment... "Sorry, it's now closed, sir... the signal just dropped."
Caid gestured dismissively before pivoting on his heel to face Lieutenant Larece, one of the ship's more qualified science officers.
"Bernadette..." he smiled, softening his tone. He always felt a certain need to pacify himself when dealing directly with her, as if he desired to impress this younger officer. "Since we happen to be stuck here while Lexter makes repairs, why not tell us more about our surroundings? Run some scans while we wait, let me know if there's anything of interest out there..."
He began to make his way towards the exit..."I'm heading back down to see how our engineer is handling th-" He stopped, then granted a slow stare towards the viewer... "For example Lieutenant, I hope you can explain to me why there are no stars showing up on our scanners..." He tilted his head slightly, gauging the steel blue eyes that met him. "I'll be back, you have the bridge if anything hits the fan." And with that he stepped out.

_________________________

"You know Doc, it's funny... right as you mentioned that I recalled a recent dream." Faro said, under slight anesthetic effect as the doctor injected a compound into his bloodstream.
"Yes, keep talking..." Doctor Vega began... "It will help you relax you as the Liocine takes effect. It can be quite painful. You really should not have been working so close to so much radiation Last nite...Your rad levels are among the highest in the engineering crew. It could explain the headaches." In reality, he rather disliked this crewman, and enjoyed passing along the bad news. But he did tell the truth, if Faro kept talking the whole ordeal might be a little easier on the both of them.
"Well it was weird..." Faro continued... "It was black and white, and a man onboard wasn't quite as he appeared. He mentioned Deck 12, and I followed him, he needed help. As we rounded the corner, I came into a small room, we had left Deck 12 somehow... there were no doors. I dont even really recall how I got there... but he was waiting, and the viewpoint shifted...he killed me there, I was watching myself die through his eyes. You know, I never really dream, doc...but this was crisp, concise imagery... Scared the **** outta me..."
"Mmm hmm." Vega said apathetically, finalizing the injection. "Keep talking, I'll be right back."
The doctor stepped into his private office to display an old novel on his monitor as he waited in peaceful silence for the 10 minute Liocine lag to run out.

_________________________

Shapiro narrowed his eyes before revealing a smile, extending a hand to shake Lexter's.
"Then the task is yours... as far as the logs are concerned, one of my men is on the job...but your skills will do the real work. Once you have proof, let me know. Otherwise, I'll be in touch." he said, nodding to the engineer. Lexter said nothing, merely watching as Dylan Shapiro, the ship's Chief of Security left Main Engineering, only moments before Captain Caid walked in.

"What's the word, Sub-Commander?"
"The hyperdrive is still offline, I can't even offer so much as a guess at why it failed. But I won't have it Online anytime soon, sorry to say..." Lexter was rather pleasant usually, a member of an ancient race known as the Wynkaarans. They were the first to contact the drifting Cynapse ships years ago, at the height of their break-away from the Terran Confederation. Lexter was there to oversee the Wynkaaran technology made available to the Syndicate and ensure its proper functionality. "But... I can offer you this..." he pointed to a log entry. "Someone has been tapping into excessive amounts of the ship's power...Shapiro has a man looking into it, he'll be submitting a report to you ASAP."

Caid offered a simple nod, before turning and walking out. He felt a certain level of irritation rising within him, and prefered not to discuss it with the ship's resident alien. He would be waiting for Shapiro's report, and was further irked that he hadn't already been briefed. As he walked out, Caid was observed by Ensign Faro, who had overheard their conversation and began to ponder on it as he clocked in to his shift.

_________________________

The soft hums returned. [Incoming Hail] flashed twice on Ensign Syra's bridge console. She offered a smile to the acting bridge commander, Larece, before opening the channel and waiting again for a response... Her wait did not go un-eventful, as a high frequency pitch arced for a half-second, splitting her eardrum... She released a passive whimper as her left ear started to bleed. The signal dropped again, as quick as it came.

Lieutenant Larece stepped over and rested her hands on Syra's shoulders.
"Go to sick bay, baby..." she smiled, winking as her fingers started on an easy massage. "I can't have my girl getten hurt on me... now quick, before the bridge gets crowded again." Syra complied without objection, an inherent submissive quality, leaving Larece alone on the bridge.

She stared at the viewer as she waited for the ship's computer to process her scans, watching the black void before her eyes...she had a sudden flash, and found herself locked deep in passion with Ensign Syra, a near-violent exchange of tongues and nails as they dug into each other in extreme ecstasy...a flash again, and they were both laying dead in a blood-stained bed, the apparent aftermath of their chaotic venture...she clawed in sudden panic at her eyes and opened them again, finding in return the dead stare of the main viewer...the Captain was right, it had been a long day. And speaking of the devil, he stepped onto the bridge, the strangest of looks on his face.

"Have you been crying, Lieutennant?"...he approached her slowly, the pacification ever-present. "And where is my Comm officer?..."
Larece looked up at the 26-year old and scanned her eyes along his slickly shaven head, revealing slight scratches along her eyelids.
"We just had another odd hail..." she began, side-stepping the question. "Syra was injured by the pitch, I sent her to Dr Vega. I also informed Lexter's team to check out her comm equipment."
"And yourself?" He persisted...
"I honestly don't know. Long day I guess."

"I've been a little stressed myself" he admitted, allowing her to save face by act of discretion. "I caught Shapiro in the halls a few minutes ago and chewed his *** out. As I rode the lift up here, I couldn't help but feel guilty."
"Jarren." she interjected, and he smiled at the use of his first name. "Not to sound rude...but I've run the scans you requested. The pocket of space immediately surrounding us is in fact a stellar body, a large black nebulae. I cannot establish any dimensions or coordinates, to be honest with you. The lack of stars or other map anchors throws our navigational bearings off, leaving us with projected positions based off of speed and course, before the Hyperdrive failure."
"Where does that put us, then, Lt?" Caid inquired.
"Somewhere within the Devonshire or Gergan system."
"Good work, keep at it." he stated as his own eyes, and attention, started to drift into the vast dark of the viewscreen image.

_________________________

As crewman Nash crept along the corridor, he had the undeniable urge that he was being followed. He had felt it for days, and had been double checking everything he had done... just to make sure he wasn't being watched. A quick two-way glance served as his spot check as he slipped into a control room and shut the door. He slid a small data crystal into an open port and began to go to work, accessing the primary security system and transfering a series of schematics to the crystal. He had just done this minutes before, in a similar control room.

In perfect silence, Lexter watched, hands pressed against the wall, completely naked... but camoflauged. Wynkaaran skin easily adapated to its surroundings, and at times their eyes have been known to simply disappear from view. Lexter would have made an excellent spy, but then again, so would have any Wynkaaran. Rage started to build within him as he witnissed Nash's activities...surely this proved his guilt, but to the books it was not enough... he would have to be watched, for surely the urge to kill could be suppressed. At least for a little while. Spies deserved no better in the end, and Lexter was plotting the inevitable slaughter of this traitor... they were not orders, they were merely instincts.

In walked Faro...he stopped, Nash did as well. They faced each other, while Nash discretely withdrew his data crystal and pocketed it.
"I'm sorry" he started, patting a hand on Faro's shoulder "I must have taken a wrong turn..." As Nash and his stalker slipped out, Faro laughed and recalled a history log, noting the schematics previously pulled. A wrong turn into a small security room was a cute excuse. His imagination perhaps took a toll...or perhaps his sense of duty.

"Deck 12...?" Faro unlocked one of the cabinets in the the small security room, revealing an open display of firearms.

_________________________

"Vega to the Captain." the Doctor requested. In the background, several voices could be heard. Caid ignored them all as his eyes glimmered, focussing heavilly on an imaginary set of 3 stars in a triad formation. Gas swirled and leaped from the stellar surfaces as Caid found his viewpoint pulling closer and closer towards the their center. He stood up and looked around him, the dead bodies of his crew laying strewn about their consoles in apparent battle stations. He simply blinked in apathetic observance and turned back to the viewer, watching the hull of his ship strip away shread by shread, a side effect of the trinary pull...

"Vega to Captain Caid, please respond." The Captain came to his senses. Larece and Syra, who had just recently returned, both looked at him in quiet concern. The bridge scene was serene now that his halluncenations had faded.

"This is Caid, what's up Doc?"
"Captain, I've been trying to reach Commander Shapiro, but he's been unavailable." the doctor began... "I'm missing some supplies."
"You calling me about missing gauze, Doctor, and I'm gonna be one angry white male..." the Captain interrupted, half joking.
"Not gauze, Liocine Denzanide. Not to mention a few hypodermic needles and a number of psychotropic drugs."
"What's so important about the Liocine?" came Caid's response.
"In and of itself, nothing more than a pain-killer, a very effective, often addictive one. Ensign Faro has been the only patient of mine to receive such a dosage in the past 72 hours. Also, I feel obligated to report that he has expressed some volitile urges to me... I would recommend a watchful eye, Captain."
"Thanks for the warning, Doctor." Caid closed the link and cast a glance towards the red-headed Larece before opening another... "Caid to Commander Shapiro."

There came no response. Shapiro laid motionless on a metal bed, and as a thin needle made its way into the veins of his neck, a gloved hand reached over and silenced his communicator.
"I want you to listen very carefully." whispered a voice, obscured by a surgical mask. "There is a very dangerous man onboard, a threat to you and your crew." Another needle passed through the skin.

_________________________

Nash had compiled 3 seperate data crystals, all containing various schematics and log entries revolving around the Hyperdrive and other key areas of the ship, including reports on the various Liocine compounds and their effects. He had everything he needed. There was a problem, though. Someone had seen him, he had to have. He reached for the wall panel and accessed the comm system.
"Nash to Ensign Faro. Please respond." a long wait ensued.
"Faro here." He simply smiled, waiting a mere minutes away in a small room on the same deck.
"Could you help me with something, Ensign? I need an engineer's expertise..."
"You're not... lost again, are you crewman?" came Faro's composed response.
"Actually, I am...meet me at Access Panel 47. Nash out." He closed the comm and turned around.

The data crystals dropped to the floor and shattered, stepped on by the scaled, imposing foot of the Wynkaaran engineer. Lexter issued a violent snarl as his claws found their home deep within the crewman's neck, cutting his gurgles screams short within seconds. He was still fading into full view as he commited this act, and only then realized that he had taken the wrong approach in killing the spy.

Nash's body hit the steel grating and his blood ran thru it, forcing Lexter to quickly improvise. He withdrew a plasma torch from a nearby toolkit and flared it to life, burning away the traces of his DNA from Nash's mockery of a throat. He knew that Faro was on his way and he had no time to spare, the irony being that if Faro found him, he would surely turn him in...the Wynkaaran who just effectively saved his life. Another tool came into play as Lexter worked to conceal any signs of the blood from the surface grating. He would deal with the reservoirs later. As he once again started to fade against the backdrop, he struck a deliberate leak in the plasma torch and threw it into the crewman's dead hands, stepping silently out of the room as the overload began. The Wynkaaran reasoned that it would be enough to make it appear as an innocent engineering accident. He quickly left the scene, as he had a Hyperdrive he should have long ago repaired...

Faro opened the door only minutes later, finding a scorched body at his feet. Confusion assaulted him like a starved convict and in a mirror of Nash's fate, he turned around to find Shapiro, chest heaving, leveling a Revo Class P3 assault rifle at him.

"Security! Drop the weapon!" Shapiro shouted in an unrecognizable voice. Faro set his own rifle down, now unsure of what to think.
"I said drop the goddamn weapon!" Shapiro repeated, his tone far more violent than before. "Now!" Faro panicked and threw his hands into the air, crying a word of surrender as he dropped to his knees.
"I'm giving you to the count of 3 to drop that ****ing rifle!" Shapiro lowered his aim to match Faro's croutched position. The frightened Ensign shook his head in denial, making every attempt to appear as docile as possible, to convey the message of his defeat.

Shapiro cared little however, and even relaxed some at the sight, offering a cold stare down to the cowardly crewman.
"One! ... Two! ..." Shapiro was not kidding.
Faro finally realized he had but one option and he scurried for his rifle.
"THREE!" and with that he pulled the trigger, sending a sharp poloron beam ripping through Faro's forehead and out the back of his skull, where the titanium panels worked to absorb the onslaught.

_________________________

[Incoming Hail] [Incoming Hail]. Syra flipped and smashed her fists against the console, bringing the hail to the speakers.
"What?!" she cried, and Larece shot her an angry stare. The captain had not left them alone this time, he had assigned crewman Hudgens to tactical before leaving to find Shaprio. The bi-sexual science officer was at a disadvantage, it was all professional now.
"Ensign Syra, if you are -ever- to show such unprofessional conduct again in my presence as acting bridge Commander..." she approached in a stern posture, half-wishing to scare the younger Hudgens as well, before having a change of heart.
"So help me God, I will take you myself..." she uttered as a pair of silk hands sifted through the Ensign's hair and cupped her cheeks. Hudgens jaw dropped as he watched the two women engage in a slow, responsive kiss before another high pitch squeal echoed through the speakers, breaking the girls apart and dropping even Hudgens to the floor.

_________________________

Caid stepped out from Shapiro's quarters, escorted by two security officers. They had just finished searching for their chief when the Captain's comm chirped.
"Shapiro to Caid." his voice was calm and relaxed.
"Speak of the devil... we were just looking for you. Report."
"I just stepped in on Ensign Faro, from the looks of it he killed crewman Nash. I warned him to drop his weapon, but no dice. He was a threat, I... had to take him out, Jarren." Shapiro and Caid went way back, and the captain didnt bother to pause for remourse.
"Understood. Im sending Diaz and Salkey here to help clean up your mess, I want you on the bridge. Lexter tells me that he's just repaired the Hyperdrive and we're ready to break out of this damn cloud. Listen... there's been a lot of commotion since we got here, so keep teams posted throughout incase anyone else gets restless. We'll be outta here in no time." Caid closed the link and keyed another one in.
"Caid to Dr Vega. There's been an incident, be prepared to accept two bodies for post-mortem."
"Aknowledged, Captain..." responded Vega, before his gloved hand closed the link.

The doctor turned back to another console, where a heavilly encrypted transmission was in progress...it contained a detailed report of his original experiements on crewmen Faro. They were a failure, and although a nosy crewman named Nash had caught on and threatened to expose Vega, the situation was easilly remedied by the current test subject, Dylan Shapiro. Vega waited as the rest of the file was sent to a cloaked Amon'Krie vessel before finally closing the console and shutting down the small lab he had made himself on Deck 12. After all, he had to be back at the Infirmary, he had post-mortems to do.

_________________________

The Xephyr soared smoothly through Hyperspace while its Captain stood in his ready room, speaking in quiet solitude.
"Captain's starlog, supplimental. Life aboard the Xephyr is starting to relax again... Lt Larece tells me that the cloud we were submerged in accounted for much of the irritation onboard, and although we cannot localize it, we have a good idea of where to avoid for a while. Shapiro and his men have located a suspected traitor by the name of Jake Faro. An investigation will likely ensue as to what exactly Faro had accomplished while onboard, but we wager that he may have been the one to disable the Hyperdrive and trap us conveniently in that cloud. More will be revealed as progress is made. In the meantime however, I look forward to some much needed rest on Iolo III, and have altered course to allow my crew the same opportunity." He closed the log entry and turned back to the view of hyperspace, still somewhat unsure of the situation... But truth comes with time, and patience is something he would soon learn.

[ June 19, 2002, 01:55: Message edited by: Cynapse ]

[Cylapse]

Malpractice

"You know I've been thinking..." a voice came as he went to turn out the lights.
Shapiro spun around in full force and took a swing at the thin air. No one?... No... the Wynkaaran... Slowly, Lexter faded from against the far wall and approached without hesitation.
"You..." he responded. "Don't you think you're overstepping your boundaries breaking in here? You might have been shot. In fact..." Shapiro had been moving in aphrension, his hands finding their way to a small holster strapped to his nightstand. "That possibility still exists... What are you doing here?" he asked, training his weapon on the Wynkaaran's chest.
"The fact that you're holding me at gunpoint suggests that you know exactly why I am here. A favor for a favor? Tit for tat? Those were your own words, no? You had me handle your dirty work, and as I mentioned, I've been thinking..."
"About Nash?..." Shapiro queried, adjusting the output on his weapon.
"Precisely. I was rather amused when I spoke with the Captain regarding what went down in Engineering while I was... 'repairing the Hyperdrive'..."
"Faro took the fall, the Doctor agreed that Nash's body was too badly incinerated for him to deduce otherwise. Which was a nice touch, by the way." Shapiro replied. "Faro was a mistake, regardless." he stated instinctively.

"What does that mean?" the Wynkaaran sneered, curious as to the integrity of the man in charge of their safety. Shapiro's response was labored, as at first, he did not know.
"Soldier-wise." Shaprio blurted eventually.
"He was an engineer." the Wynkaaran just laughed.
"He's been through my cross-training, Lexter." A sound reply, but at this point, pointless... he pondered if the Wynkaaran was hiding there when he killed Faro. No, he had to have at some point repaired the drive, however minor Faro's sabotage may have been... he would roll the dice. "When we were down there, Faro aimed and fired, and he would have got me, as I was still taking aim. What stopped him was the fact that he didn't know how to properly operate the rifle he took. As he released the safety, I released him." he lied about Faro, but his expression covered it well, as this lie in turn covered up a subconscious one.

"That is really of no relevance. I am speaking of Nash, and not of my--Faro's killing of him, but rather, of the orders you gave to him. Nash was low level security, yes?" Lexter stared in spite of the pistol now being leveled at his head.
"Yes", came the simple, uttered response of the Tactical Officer.
"Then perhaps you could explain to me, Commander..." the Wynkaaran began... "Why the security logs indicated that you granted him level 7 clearance to select engineering and security databases..."
"They don't say that..." Shapiro smiled.
"Ah but they did, before you altered them... You seem to think that because you are the Chief of Security on this vessel, that you understand it better than its own Engineer. That computer you use, it is primarily Wynkaaran in design, and you'd be surprised what one of us, or.. one of you with real training on the matter could do with one."
"So then what now?..." Shapiro didn't have much to say.
"Tell me why you granted him the access...and then ordered him to move from station to station, gathering data and downloading it to a bunch of crystals that you knew would never get past me. It was really all quite cute when I read the crewman's own personal logs. How excited he was about this personal assignment from his commanding officer. Of course, before it was deleted. Naturally, I felt a little guilty after ripping out his voicebox, so I did a little bed-time reading on the restored data sectors." Lexter winked with a grin, revealing six incisors. "Now why would you set him up and then come ask me to track him down with propaganda that he is a spy?"
"No, that much you don't need to know... what you do need to know is that you have one on me and I have one on you. And come to think of it, I have two on you." Shapiro smiled, referring to the pistol.
"Tit for tat, hmm?" the Wynkaaran's smile faded just as fast as his body did, before Shapiro's gun was slapped clean across the room. The Commander clutched a new wound in his former weapon hand as the door to his quarters skid open."
"Be seeing you around, Commander." came an unseen voice before the door closed.

***********************************

"Captain's log, stardate 2414.6. While on route to Iolo III, we've decided to make a quick stop off in the Xiban system to pick up some additional crewmen. Fifteen new transfers will be coming aboard, as previously we had been operating under somewhat of a skeleton crew. We are preparing to exit Hyperspace shortly, through the established Hyperspace-Xiban warp point for power-consumption purposes. I'm told that using our jump-drive at this point would drain far too much and may actually add time to our arrival. Also scheduled at the space yard is the installation of the prototype reactor I've been hearing so much about from Lexter. Although I can't say I like being among the first to test it under extremely long missions, it is nice to know that fuel isn't a major issue..."

Captain Caid walked out of his ready room and onto the bridge, casting an even glance along the faces and stations of his crew before stepping up to his command chair and claiming his post.
"Report." he queried, simple and direct. As he spoke, the viewscreen was lit with the gorgeous view of an active warp-point.
"We are standing by to jump, Captain." came the stern reply of Ensign Connor, the ship's pilot.
"Then lets waste no time...take us through, Ensign, 3000 kph - nice and steady. And take heed, we do mine that warp-point." the Captain relaxed in his chair, his eyes glancing first to Larece before landing finally upon Ensign Syra. "I heard the comm was down for inspection, you wanna take an early break?"
The 19-year old was delighted at the chance and nodded, before closing her station and excusing herself from the bridge. As she walked by, she caught the wandering eyes of Lt Larece and concealed a smile. Officer Hudgens, who was assigned to tactical, had caught it as well.

***********************************

Ensign Syra was walking down the halls to her quarters, when she was stopped dead in her tracks by the imposing presence of the very tall Dr Vega.
"Cadence Syra..." he spoke, still wearing his white surgical gown.
"Doctor." She couldn't help but feel nervous...this tall bastard stood in her way and addressed her by first name.
"I was wondering if you could perhaps provide a little insight as to when the Comm-System might be back Online?" Vega inquired, taking a lumbering step forward.
"Sorry, its been disabled for all crew members. We think someone may have been tampering with it, and my personal advice would be that you avoid it altogether, to avoid any wrongful suspicion." She stepped to one side, averting him.
"Of course, thank you for your time, Ensign." The doctor moved away, his eyes scanning along her backside as she continued hastily down the corridor.

***********************************

The Xephyr's engines lit to life and sent it gliding through the warp point, offering the bridge a majestic view of the mesmerizing light-show surrounding them. An extremely low-level shield was employed to protect them from the energetic effects as they passed from one point to the other, and a brilliant flash could be seen behind them as the Xephyr soared away from the exit point.

Behind it, the warp-point stayed wide-open, fluctuating slightly. The Captain watched this on the viewer and shot an odd look at Lt Larece. Only seconds later did a large explosion of mines erupt at the warp point, followed in turn by the powerless de-cloaking of a huge Amon'Krie vessel, its hull aflame with plasma leaks.

Caid stood from his chair and cast an iron stare to Officer Hudgens.
"Shields to full, arm the Cold-Fusion Cannons." He took a step forward, pausing to watch their apparent stalker loom forward as its hull fires died. "Connor, Full stop, turn us around."
"Cannons Armed and locked on-target." came Hudgen's sharp reply... Finally, it was his chance to fire.

The Amon'Krie vessel, "Sazzik", as it was marked on the side, thrusted forward, still under self-power as it raised its own set of defensive shields. Two torpedos were launched in immediate succession, rapidly finding their way towards the Xephyr's forward hull plating. Point defense strips were lit to life, ready to strike an arc of energy up at the opposing projectiles, but they were useless. The torpedos didn't even register on their targetting proximity as they collided with violent rage into the Xephyr's shields.

The vessel shook internally, and its Captain was thrown back into his chair. He rose to his feet and grabbed hold of a nearby brace bar.
"Change of plan, arm the Shield Sapper and hold off on Fusion Cannons. Helm, take us in on a collision course. Hudgens, return fire."

Smooth and well-rehearsed, the crew went to work. The shield depleter came to bear upon its target and released an easy, non-violent stream of blueish white light which went to work on the Sazzik's shields, draining the power and parsing it uselessly into space. As the Xephyr closed in, two enemy turrets locked on and fired, assaulting it with a steady barrage of meson bursts.
Its shields flickered and arced in response, and Caid thanked himself for grabbing the support bar. He turned to Hudgens for an update on their enemy, just as the familiar hum of the Shield Depeleter's reload sounded.
"No need." Hudgens offered, nearly reading the Captain's mind. "It's shields are failing, and may fall at the first sign of stress."
"Then let's give it to em." Caid began, as they neared the range of 2000 meters. "Lock-on both Fusion cannons...Fire. Connor, you know what to do."

1000 meters had passed in that short time, and the vessel started to dip up at the Captain's request. Under Hudgen's control, the two Cold-Fusion cannons acquired their target and ignited, firing an intense purple stream of unstable energy into the bow of the Amon'Krie battleship. The twin beams cut through its armor like a knife through butter, a bi-product of the Wynkaaran's advanced beam physics. Caid watched as a cascade of explosions were set off, caused by a rather well-timed shot from Hudgens. Amidst the new spacial fires, a pair of unseen objects came towards them.

"Torpedo alert!" Hudgens had shouted, but all too late. The ship rocked again, and its shields went down. Caid heard the indicative tone and cringed, knowing that at this point it was all on the armor.
"What's our status?" He asked, before another series of Meson's flashed against the ship's hull.
"They've still got claws!" Hudgens replied, trying to target his cannons on the remaining enemy weapons. He was unsuccessful, but thought he could manage a close-enough shot to at least cut off their power supply. "Ready to fire on command, sir."
"Hudgens." The Captain began... "Fire at will, and next time I'll be sure to state that fact first." Caid winked, knowing that Shapiro wouldnt have even needed to be told.

Hudgens responded and let loose with the Cannons, this time far more successful as the fusion streams dug their way deep into the Sazzik's weapons array...Meson bLasters down. Now for the torpeods. The Xephyr was now gliding away from the Amon'Krie vessel due to Caid's orders, but it made a majestic turn and swung around into a battle pose once more. The Captain watched his viewer with dark intent, prompting his opponent to make a move. Instead the flaming wreckage just sat there, as if eternally loading its torpedos.

"Shall I take us in?" Connor asked, the young blond kid was rather brash at times, but the fear of battle must have scolded him today.
"Absolutely not." Caid replied, watching with enthrallment. Something is wrong over there. Did you see what we did to them when they let us get that close? I'm not falling for my own ploys." No later did he utter those words than did the Amon'Krie trigger a self-destruct device, offering a sudden shockwave to the Xephyr and outward, where it barely touched the atmosphere of Xiban VI.

The Captain turned and surveyed his crew before allowing a solemn nod towards Hudgens.
"Stand us down from Alert status, resume course to Xiban I. Since the comm is still down, the local outPosts are gonna havta wait for an explaination. I'll be in my ready room, keep me posted." And he turned and walked from the bridge, leaving Larece in command.

***********************************

Doctor Vega screamed at the viewport, smashing his fists against it in a vain attempt to shatter the plexi-glass like material. Before his very eyes lied the destruction of his one chance home; the Sazzik. His fellow operatives had kept him company through this ordeal, and ensured his survival in the presence of these...humans.

Ughh and this face. He cupped it in fake, human hands and wanted to cry. He had been acting as a spy onboard for the past two months and the Sazzik had rode along undetected, sometimes near, sometimes far, always within reach if ever he were detected. And now... now, it was gone. Gone because a little trick had a little ear-bleed and they took the comm offline to 'investigate'... He could have warned them. He should have known sooner, about the mines, but had not considered it. If he did make it home to the Amon'Krie, his people, he would surely be killed at the word of this disgrace... But where to go now? To live this life on a ship with his enemies? To heal them when they get wounded killing his people? No... never.

He left the Infirmary and entered a lift, touching his hand to the access panel.
"Deck 12."

***********************************

Shapiro had just gone back to bed, his mind fresh on the violence the ship had just reportedly undertaken. His encounter with Lexter left him nervous and on edge, so the gun had moved from a nightstand holster to a warm home under his pillow. Current events aside, he was apparently the only one onboard still experiencing nightmares or hallucenations, now that they had left the ominous black cloud a day before.

Repeated dreams of a cold white light above him, and a mask coming down over his face, a pain in his neck... a struggle, followed by a calm submissive state of sleep...he opened his eyes and found himself in Engineering, a short, very familiar hallway ending in a small room. Below him stood Faro, beckoning wildly in surrender... he blinked and Faro had risen to his feet, now holding a rifle as a clear and obvious threat. Shapiro realized that he himself had a rifle, so took no pause in opening fire, through the head, as he had done before... And as the trigger pulled, he blinked again, an accident, but it revealed Faro on the ground after all, crying for Mercy. It was much too late, the beam was on its way home...and just as it had happened before, in crisp clarity, it happened again...

At that point, he sat up in a heaving pant and realized that sleep was not an option.

***********************************

Caid laid back in his ready room, idley fingering the edges of a slender throwing knife. A soft tone sounded at the door and he unlocked it via a small control panel. In walked Shapiro, looking like a dead man.
"There a problem, Commander?" Caid smiled, as he had not seen his friend much since the incident with Faro and Nash.
"I feel like a damn wreck, Jarren. I aint even sleepen right anymore. Before I thought it was coz of that damned cloud but now?... I may have to go ask the Doc, maybe he can prescribe me something."
"I can prescribe ya somethen." The Captain laughed, withdrawing a fatly rolled spliff from behind his ear. "But I'd prefer to wait until we arrived on Xiban, as the ventilation systems on the ship need a few adjustments before I can get away with any of my... stress relief." He smiled, running the spliff under his nose with an inhale. "But maybe you should talk to the doctor. I'll bring restricted access to the Comm back Online, give him a call and let him know to get his *** back on duty."

"Thanks Cap, I'll catchya around." Shapiro nodded and slipped out, part of him wishing they'd get to Xiban already... maybe that's all he needed, a nice rest under a fresh sky...

***********************************

Tools were thrown hastilly into a large storage bag, as the frantic doctor worked to clean out his make-shift lab on Deck 12. He hadn't planned on keeping it up for much longer than another month or so, and now it was all cut short. What to do, what to do. He couldn't hold this charade for much longer. He placed 3 micro-charges on key areas of the room, as a Last resort. He wouldn't detonate them yet, of course not, but if anything happened, any remaining Amon'Krie technology wouldn't fall into the wrong hands.

He threw the bag over his shoulder and let out a heavy sigh before locking the room behind him. Just then his comm chirped, it was the Captain. So convenient of them to re-activate it for his purposes.
"This is Doctor Vega. How can I assist?"
"Please be prepared to accept a patient, Dylan Shapiro." the Captain stated.
"The Commander?" Dr Vega couldn't help but smile. "Anytime." He closed the link and pondered that he may well get one Last chance with his experiments. He patted the bag and continued on his way to the Infirmary.

***********************************

"Damn Doc... Its hard to explain. They are just the same sick dreams, over and over... But they are like... ****ed up Versions of things I've already been through, nothing new..." Shapiro looked up at a cold white light, it rather disturbed him. "They aint stopped since I came to you Last time. What was that you gave me? Liocine?..."
The doctor lowered his eyes a bit, looking into a small readout as he feigned a scan of Shapiro's neural pathways. In reality, he wanted to know what went wrong, why the 'dreams' were coming out in the first place. His compounds should have been suppressing them. Shapiro must have been more resistant to their effects.
"Yes, Liocene. Please, try not to move... I'm going to give you an anesthetic." Vega stated calmly.
"No you're not." Shapiro sat up, to be met with Vega's large arms restraining him. "I neither need nor want any damned anesthetic - didn't you hear my problem? Sleeping scares the **** out of me. Wild dreams that make me feel like a coward, and you wanna put me under? Sorry Doc, no dice..."
Vega's irritation was rising. Already his mind had wandered to his crewmates aboard the Sazzik, and he wanted little more than to see a similar fate befall the Xephyr...just...not while he was onboard. Perhaps Xiban I posed more of an opportunity than he had considered, especially now, with Shapiro in his hands...
"Very well, Commander. No anesthetic." He stepped away and opened the storage bag he had previously packed before returning to his patient. "We'll do this the hard way." A huge hand was placed over Shapiro's mouth as the needle made its way deep into the veins in his neck... His leg kicked in desperation at the metal table, and as he slipped into subconsciousness, looking up at a light and a surgeon's mask, it all came together.

***********************************

"Lieutenant Larece to Captain Caid." Bernadette called through the internal comm.
"Caid here, whats up?"
"We've docked with the Xiban space yards, they report that they are now ready to accept visitors and departees." the Lieutenant offered.
"Excellent, inform the crew. They have until morning before we depart, make sure they know when the deadline is. Also, see to it that the fifteen new recruits find their way to the their quarters."
"Absolutely." she replied, closing the link.

Now that the comm was officially active for a while, he decided to make more use of it. Radio silence always irritated him, as he could not simply issue commands from afar.
"Caid to Lexter, please respond." he prompted. There came no response.
"This is the Captain to the Chief Engineer, respond." Nothing.

Lexter meanwhile had been cloaked and stalking Shapiro, and was at that very moment witnessing quite a spectacle... Vega had been pumping the young Commander full of unknown fluids and whispering to him, almost coddling him, as if speaking to a child. Simply and slowly, incurring the most basic of emotional responses. He was much more active now, even uttering barely audible replies to the doctor.
"I know, I know... and its okay..." came the voice of Vega. "Just listen...it'll all make sense when its over..." Vega turned his head for a moment, looking right at the Wynkaaran yet seeing through him...he squinted as he had thought he heard something, seemingly peering at nothing in the dark.
"Now listen to me Dylan... I need some security clearances, are you feeling well enough to walk now...?" A mild groan was his retort.
"Good boy, now upsie daisey, here we go..." He lifted the staggering Shapiro to his feet, who in turn fell against the surgical tray, sending a number of needles and fluid packs sprawling to the floor. "Damnit Dylan, this is not becoming of my hours of hard work. Get up!"

The entrance to the Infirmary hissed wide open, revealing an empty hallway. Vega panicked and jetted for the door to seal it, knowing damn well he had just recently locked it. Behind him came a heavy source of heat, and as a breath befell his shoulder, he spun around and thrust a needle into the camoflauged stomach of Lexter...he groaned loudly and a gradual change in colors ensued, bringing him into clearer sight.

Vega snatched up his bag and then released Shapiro's particle pistol from its holster, firing twice at the blurry Wynkaaran, who absorbed both shots before slumping over in a bloody pile on the floor.

***********************************

"Open your eyes, Mr Lexter..." it was the voice of a young nurse. He strained a bit before lifting himself out of bed, his near-transparent eyes changing hues while adjusting to the light.

"Miss Lady-Nurse, where are we?" he squinted again, unsure of his surroundings.
"Xiban Space Yards, Medical Trauma Ward II." She responded. "The Captain insisted that we not use the Xephyr's Infirmary for your wounds. You took quite a bit of damage in there. We've patched you up though, and for remaining in clear sight during most of the surgery, you did rather well." She smiled down at him. "You're free to go..."
"If its all the same to you, I think I'd rather lay here for a few minutes... How is Shapiro?" the Wynkaaran laid back down and closed his eyes.
"He's been through the the Detox Ward and has been sent back to the ship, Last I heard he was okay... Since you're staying in my ward, Mr Wynkaaran, I could perhaps... keep you company?"
Lexter offered an honest smile and nodding in reply before allowing himself the measure of comfort needed to relax...

***********************************

"All Passengers, we are now prepping for our landing on Xiban I. Remember ladies and gentlemen, that our departure time will be in 14 hours to return to the ship. To those crewman that will not be returning with us, we wish you a good transfer and look forward to working with you again..." Came the voice over the shuttle's intercom...

Vega listed with an ironic smile. So he had failed with Shapiro as well as Faro, at least it wasn't all bad. He had covered his tracks fairly well up until that point. And now it was time to start a new life. The smile of a younger crew member caught his eye and he shifted seats to speak with her.
"Doctor Vega is the name. Haven't I seen you before? Ensign... Yarovich?" The young woman smiled, seemingly flattered that he knew her name.
"Yes, you helped me with my nightmares..." she replied.
"They haven't been recurring, have they?..."
"Not at all..." a simple smile surfaced at her lips.
"Excellent..." he returned her smile and offered a wink as well, patting his cargo bag as the shuttle descended onto the surface of Xiban I...

[ June 19, 2002, 05:37: Message edited by: Cynapse ]

[Cylapse]

Blackout

Caid peered out over the vast view of the staryards from his quarters, slightly inclining one of his legs to rest it against the "window sill" of his view port. The day began with disappointment, the news that there had been a problem with the new reactor. For 'saftey' reasons, it had to be retrofitted, which would lead to a week-long delay before the installation would even begin. To Caid, this meant at least another month or two of burning Dark Matter, as he would not be hanging around Xiban any longer than he had to.

The door chime echoed and Caid made the rather spacious walk to answer it...the Captain of course had accommodating quarters. Standing to greet him was a somewhat pale Shapiro, leaning more on the doorframe than on his own two feet.

"Jarren." Shapiro's smile was weak, but there, and much stronger than when he had first left detox. Caid extended a hand to allow his first officer some support as they paced towards a table.
"Still no signs of Vega on the surface, from what I'm told." Caid mentioned, stepping over to his private bar as Shapiro worked himself into a chair. Xiban I was a huge planet, they both knew this, and the chances of finding him at this point were negligible. "But the authorities have promised to deliver him personally to us if ever he shows his face... For privacy concerns, I didn't convey the details, but they knew I was serious in finding him."

Shapiro nodded and accepted a glass as it was slid across the table to him. Caid sent his own over as well.
"Scotch or Whiskey?"...
"You don't have any of that Green Wine?" Shapiro complained, prompting a chuckle from his Captain.
"I don't think that actually exists...but I'll check into it." He took a seat across from Shapiro and poured them each a shot of whiskey, adopting a more solemn attitude. "I've read over your report...there is a lot missing..."

"With all due respect..." Dylan interjected..."There's a lot missing in my head...I've done the best I could." This made Caid laugh for some reason, and he hoped it would lighten the mood.
"Chill out and take your drink, I'm not witch-hunten here, Commander..." Caid downed his own shot, a twisted view of 'leadership by example'. "I'm just saying... this is gonna be hard to send to the Syndicate to explain two dead men, a missing doctor and the near-fatal removal of three detonators on Deck 12. We may have to clean it up a bit before sending to the council, but I've spoken with Lexter and he has no problems with doctoring the reports." Suddenly Caid bit his lip.
"And I sincerely apologize for the pun." A smile soon followed and he poured himself another shot. Shapiro cackled a dry laugh, as his voice was still not quite up to par, and took a drink.

"Speaking of." Caid continued... "I'm going to need a new one, now. And sadly, none of the fifteen new kids has any medical experience. So... looks like I'm stuck here until I pick another."
"You already check out the space yard crew?" Shapiro tried to clear his throat, instead choosing to hold his glass out for a refill. The drinks seemed to help his voice.
"Yeah..." Caid complied first by killing his own drink, before pouring them each another. "No cuties." They both laughed. "Seriously though, no one with any real qualifications beyond that of nurse, and well... You already used could do that, eh Commander?" Caid smiled and jabbed his friend in the arm, provoking a little energy. Shapiro ignored the half-joke.
"About the new crew..." He replied, changing the subject. "I did a little reading myself. These names caught my eye..." He withdrew a small datapad from his inner pocket and placed it on the table.

• Dycen Lore
  
• Ryan Mercer
  

"You know these people?" The captain queried as he set the pad back down.
"Well Tyler was issued the Stellar Wings award by the Council a year or so back, so I figured he might make a good night-shift helmsman for starters. Lore we've both served with, remember? On the Harbinger." Caid shook his head in denial. "Anyway...as for Mercer, I used to serve with his paps before he got his own command."
"Now that one I think I remember." Caid put the bottle away, idly noting the time display. "They gave him the Twilight, right? Last year."
Shapiro nodded.
"Keep me posted, Commander...Let me know what you think of them." Caid began, and a quote echoed hauntingly upon Shapiro's ears as he rose to his feet, preparing to leave.
"As soldiers?..."
"As crewmen, Dylan." Caid passed him an odd look as he lead him to the door. "Rest easy, eh?"
"Yeah, catch ya later." Shapiro paced down the corridor, a little detached, although a little more relaxed than earlier. As he made his way to his own quarters he passed by a young Ensign Yarovich, who found something familiar in him, although she couldn't determine why. She stopped dead in her tracks and watched him enter his room, feeling an anger rise that she couldn't explain.
*********************************************

"Hey!" A hard shove impacted his shoulder, and Dycen started to grind his teeth into each other, casting a half-glance over his shoulder. Another crewman stood-at-ready, glaring him down in a blatant fighting stance. It was already an irritating day, and this little prick wanted to get in the way? Dycen laughed outright and spun his weight into a side-kick, which met a solid block and evasion by his opponent, who in turn swept him out from under his feet. As he scrambled to recover, the red-headed man who just had dropped him kneeled down in a mocking pose, a grin spreading across his freckled face.
"You know I was just saying Hi...sorry if I scared you." he chuckled, running a hand through spiked hair. "The name's Kincade." He said, offering a hand.

Dycen rose to his feet and walked away.
"Hey! What the ****, you? I was trying to make a fooken friend - it's just my way, ya know?" The red-head half-pleaded. "I just got here. Despite the attitude problem, you looked like you might be a bit smarter than some of these other yups, you know?"
"Yeah..." Dycen looked straight at him. "I'm beginning to see that." A hearty chuckle left his chest as he opened the door to a lift and stepped inside. Of course, his new shadow followed him.
"Hey, Listen... I aint got a drinking buddy tonight, so if you want, we can hit the mess hall - scope out some tail? This guy Hudgens was tellen me about some girls that I have been dying to see. C'mon, I'll introduce ya...I feel bad, you know, for making you look like a little punk and all." He pushed him again, adlibbing a wink.
Dycen shoved back this time, a soft crack his reward as Kincade's back hit the railing.
"Ughh...suppose payback's a *****, eh? Heh heh." Tyler relaxed and let down his guard, nodding respectfully at Dycen as he stepped out of the lift. "Sorry."
"The name's Lore." Dycen called out. "Maybe I'll catcha for the drink later." He keyed in his deck number and returned the nod as the door closed, not bothering to wait for a response.

*********************************************

Ryan Mercer treaded his way down a tightly-cramped engineering hall, already three minutes late for his shift. He hadn't even so much as met his Chief, yet had been assigned relay repair in this vice-like corridor. It was up to him to make sure they could withstand the effects of a warp-point, a simple enough job, but in this hallway?... He paused to scan his eyes along an access panel, noting the junction number for reference as he continued to plot out in his head where his destination was. A four-way intersection stared him in the face.

"Okay...back there was J-37, if I make a left, that should put me..." He glanced in both directions, and then forward again. "That should put me just left of wherever the hell I am now." He laughed to himself, but it was a half-worried one. He was seriously a good five minutes late at this point, and still didn't quite understand the numbering scheme. Luckily, the Chief Engineer was on temporary sick-leave, and the repair would only take a minute. Ryan stared down the hallway, watching it fade to darkness within the deck's shallow horizon. It seemed to get more and more narrow the further down it went. Who designed this ship? Wynkaarans were typically bigger than humans, and there was only one on board anyway, so why this? He took a random guess and started walking, figuring that his original decision should stand as he made his way down the left path.

*********************************************

The Wynkaaran stepped into his quarters and paused, lifting his nose to the air in detection of a scent. Human... Shapiro stepped out from the shadows of a far wall, mirroring a recent act by the Wynkaaran in what had become tit-for-tat game of chess.
"I felt it fitting to approach you like this..." Dylan stated, leaning against a nearby chair as he moved inward. "You were ready to kill me the day before, and yet yesterday you saved my life. The makings of an enigma, Lexter? Or another plot to kill me..."
"Neither...although" The Wynkaaran sneered "The thought had crossed my mind. I had actually been following you with that intention. When you stepped into the Infirmary, I figured you had a physical and was about to leave. It was a matter of respect, really. And then I saw him reach for a needle when you declined the anesthetic. Naturally I had to stay and watch...It was a good show from my perspective, no offence."
"None taken, I think... but either way I'm glad you did...from what the Spaceyard doctors told me, I've had traces of so-called 'Liocine' in my system for at least a month or so. But they have no name for it, instead calling it compound Y-647, and they say the full potential of its effects are unknown. Charming isn't it?" Shapiro just laughed. "I suppose I owe you an apology, for everything I may, or may not have done. My memories of Nash and Faro come in and out, mostly through dreams. Its really hard to recall on a conscious level."
"Understandable." The Wynkaaran began..."I have heard your race is inherently psionic in nature, perhaps you would be one to take an interest in such studies? Improve your mental resistance, and perhaps even discover more about this chapter in your life? It could prove helpful, especially if a hearing is ever called..."
"I lack the psi-gene." Shapiro smiled. "Caid already tried barking up that tree once, when his studies started. As for the hearing, I can't bother worrying. I know Caid will do his best, and he mentioned your assistance, which again, is appreciated." As he spoke, he managed to rise again to his feet, as if preparing to leave.

The Wynkaaran nodded in acknowledgement as Shapiro edged his way towards the exit.
"Sorry to 'break in', but a few things had to be said. Thanks." The first officer offered a slight salute and stepped out of the Lexter's quarters.

*********************************************

Caid entered the bridge with a proud stride, inclining his goateed chin as he spoke to his helmsman.
"Connor, take us out of here, resume course to Iolo III. Real-space only, as we're going need to conserve Dark-Matter for a little while..." He leaned against the navigational controls and smiled. "Take her to Light-factor 11, lets let those sails out."
"We in a hurry, Captain?" Connor brought the engines to life as he spoke, breaking orbit in a very sudden, but surprisingly smooth manner. The deck plates rumbled only slightly, and Caid managed to avoid any trip-ups on his way back to the chair.

"That we are, Ensign. I've found us a new doctor, who, surprise-surprise, happens to be stationed on Iolo III. So I reason that we have no further use jerking around in Xiban." Caid watched the viewer, rather impressed at how quickly the planet had faded from the small sub-window which acted as a rear-view. Before him, a mere sector away, loomed the vast, swirling Tyrik warp-point. Tyrik was the home system of the Cynapse Syndicate, while Xiban, a small system in the far corner of the charted quadrant, acted as their back door into Hyperspace. Iolo would be the next system on their list, once through the heavy Traffic of Tyrik.

"We're passing through the warp-point now, Captain." Connor played the controls naturally, but it was clear he still had a few kinks that needed to be worked out as they neared the anomaly. The Xephyr's sub-spacial shields flared to defend against the warp-point but failed, locking up on a series of blown relays that had yet to be repaired. Lt Cruz offered a quick shout out from the engineering station.
"We're losing main power!" just as the lights went out.

*********************************************

Darkness. His breaths became heated and heavy as he looked back and forth and in all directions, feeling the walls like a desperate lover. Ryan Mercer was lost in a maze of corridors and junction tubes. A soft hissing sound could he heard nearby, the sound of gas escaping. Unbeknownst to him, a plasma coolant known as Hydracoren was venting into the access tubes, having sprung a leak in its unshielded passage through the warp point.

"Hello?"... the air got thin and he felt a slight lift in his lungs and stomach, an uneasiness that did not reside well within him. "God..." he whispered, knowing no one could hear him. It was still pitch black, not a single source of light from anywhere. He fumbled for his toolkit and dropped it, groaning in irritation as he listened for the sound of equipment spilling. It didn't, which concerned him. He leaned down and felt along the floor, finding only cold metal grating. His stomach twisted again and he echoed a throaty burp, almost ready to throw up all over himself... and God, it was as if he couldn't breathe. What was wrong with the air here?

"Is anybody there?...Hello?" he called in vain. It was as if all heat had fled the area. He stood up again, finding icy steel as his only company, the feather-light touch of metal along his ear from behind... He pivoted around and lost his balance, his voice scratching the air with harsh screams devoid of oxygen... It seemed as if he was floating, arms and legs unbound, perhaps dying?...maybe his own fear had killed him and this was what it felt like? Then why couldn't he stop thinking? He asked himself a thousand questions as the light-less room spun in his head. He thoroughly hated his first day on the job.

*********************************************

"Report." Caid glanced at his bridge crew, an act made possible by low-level emergency lighting. It had just been restored on the command deck a mere seconds before.

"Emergency Power is being distributed." Cruz uttered, "A few relays must have went out before we passed through the point." He was furious inside, but concealed it, as he had already told Crewman Mercer to fix the damn things over a half hour ago.

"Understood." The Captain activated his private console and keyed in a quick sequence. "All hands, this is the Captain. You may experience a loss in power, life support and gravity on any or all decks, so please be prepared to take standard emergency procedures. This is a minor malfunction and is being corrected, please stand by."

*********************************************

The Mess Hall scene quickly turned into a scatter-fest in the dark, as half-drunk crewmen took advantage of the rarity of a main power outage. Lore was swept up off of his feet and spun into a spiral dive across the room, instigated by the push of Kincade and unhindered by gravity. The view ports offered a small amount of light from the distant Tyrik star, and Lore looked above him to find himself staring up the skirt of Ensign Syra, who's drink was now a series of floating drops of liquid, streaking across the Mess Hall.

"You didn't... plan this, did you Tyler?" Lore grinned, noting the air grow slightly stale. Tyler took note as well and launched himself upwards, using the ceiling to springboard towards a small emergency cabinet. Two tanks marked O2 were thrown at Lore's direction, provoking the young officer to catch and distribute them to nearby crew members. Tyler threw another one, after accepting a quick breath from the attached mask while he ransacked the remaining emergency supplies.

*********************************************

A hypnotic barrage of words echoed in Ryan's ears, an unknown voice blaring from some unknown source...Was it God? The Psychic Continuum? The sounds were alien to him, inhuman. A familiar cold touched his hand and he was ready this time, seizing it in a firm grasp before realizing that it was his flashlight.

A bright beam shot forth as he turned it on, and the air-starved engineer waved it up at the ceiling...A thin green fog shrouded him, and he realized he was breathing in more of this cloud than any oxygen... And was he floating? Even worse, the walls were closer now than before. Much closer... and they were closing in. He could hear the groan of the titanium as it compacted. His eyes shot wide open and strained to stretch further, every vein in his body screaming for support. He watched the metal start to crumple as it wrestled itself to destruction, it wanted him... And it was gonna get him. "Oh God", the words drilled at the back of his mind, as he had not the strength to speak them. He was going to die, a fact that screeched with glee in his head. And that damned voice just kept on repeating itself. That horribly mutated, incomprehensible voice..."Shut it off!" he screamed, but no sounds would come.

"...I repeat, this is only a minor malfunction and is being corrected, please stand by."... But Mercer could not heed the advice, instead his focus was slipping and sliding, a roller-coaster of his own state of dementia and claustrophobia... all of it assaulted him at once, and then released him a violent drop to the ground, as gravity and power came back Online. The lights flickered to life and the entire ship was brought back to activity.

Two new crewmen, Roa and Morgan, both engineers, had managed to repair the blown relays at the request Lt Cruz. They had no difficulties in finding the relays and replacing the fuses within. Meanwhile in the Mess Hall, a disorientated Dycen Lore struggled to clear his own head, while an amused Tyler Kincade chuckled at what had just befallen them. They were both now soaked in the drinks they were enjoying before the gravity failed, giving them a quick lesson in Zero-G parties.

A long fifteen minutes passed as the crew helped each other recover from the brief outage of power. Ryan Mercer laid sprawled out in an engineering hallway, laughing as if he had all the time in the world... He was in trouble, yes, but he wasn't dead. And for some reason in his twisted little mind, that was something to be proud of. Perhaps he had lost a bit of sanity... but perhaps, he had acquired a bit as well. Out from within his own insecure world of panic and fear he emerged, alive and somewhat well, in the Cynapse Zone.

[ June 20, 2002, 16:09: Message edited by: Cynapse ]

[Cylapse]

the Unblinking Mind

A space yard shuttle cruised down on a majestic flight path, its course laid and set on Iolo III. Aboard were 28 people leaving the orbital station, one of which having come from the starship Xephyr. Its Captain, Jarren Caid, stared out the window near his passenger-class seat as the vessel made a soft landing at the planet's spaceport.

"Attention passengers, you are now free to leave the shuttle, please remember to remain single-file as overhead containers will now be opening at this point. Thank you and enjoy your stay on Iolo III." the shuttle's pilot iterated.

Caid stepped off the shuttle and took up a casual stroll along the spaceport's promenade, relieved that he had no luggage. A slight hunger ensued within as the smell of the nearby restaurants caught his attention. He was decked in common clothes, but a single gold stripe was barely visible at his collar, a method for his new doctor to spot him. As he parsed his way through the crowd, he caught something. The glimpse of a rather tall individual peering from behind the masses. He was looking right at him, too distant for detail, but close enough to notice as the unknown watcher slipped back behind the faces of others. Caid's curiosity compelled him as he took a few steps forward, narrowing his eyes in a quick effort to scan through the Groups of patrons.

"Captain?..." a soft feminine voice called. Jarren turned around and offered an impulsive smile.
"Captain Jarren Caid, Starship Xephyr... Doctor Sullivan?" Caid inquired, and the young brunette nodded in response. "It's a pleasure to meet you." He said, his eyes once more catching the lanky watcher. It was Vega! Instinct consumed him as he shouldered past his new doctor, racing through the crowds and shoving the stubborn and ignorant aside. He was getting closer, but Vega could run for a man of such lumbering size.

"Security!" a voice called, but it meant nothing to Caid as he dived forward to catch his prey... And then it all slowed down... The fierce, ear-splitting sound of a distant discharge, and the growing feeling of warmth. His eyes narrowed in confusion as the face of Vega slowly faded to that of a clean-shaven bald man, perhaps in his mid-thirties. His take on the situation was further stressed as a sharp pain sizzled within his upper shoulder, killing all feeling as they both crashed to the ground.

Above on the balcony, a sniper's eyes widened in disbelief. He missed... He watched, idly reloading as the bystander who had tackled his target absorbed the shot and shook from the pain. The crowds scattered and the nameless bald man rose to his feet, now fully aware of where his would-be assassin was. He had sensed a growing danger and knew when it would strike, but needed a scape goat until he could localize the threat. The 32-year old Psion snarled and threw his hand outward, as if hitting with the ball of his palm. An unseen force manifested and shot forth, ramming the shoulder-mount of the sniper's weapon into his masked mouth and tainting it red. He stumbled and dropped his weapon, lowering the mask to cough up a few of his front teeth.

The Psion closed his eyes and folded his arms, a single tear running from each draped eyelid. His skin faded slightly and his strength was drawn as he poured all of his focus into the attacker. The sniper levitated slightly, though it was unobservable to the common eye. His throat was sealed shut as his arms jerked outward in a puppetted pose, legs together as if prepared for crucification. The rough sounds of flesh ripping echoed through the chamber as the assassin's wrists and neck were split open for public display, a three-way faucet of his life's fluids spilling onto the deck. The Psion turned and walked away, a simple gesture his only act as the sniper seemingly leaped from the balcony, diving down head-first to his final meal on a deserted table.

*********************************************

Ensign Yarovich was led to a small room, where a triad-shaped device was placed against her neck. It was activated by remote, linking to a small readout before Lt Joel Franks. He asked her a series of irrelavent questions to calibrate the device, before preparing his real survey.
"Ensign, did you see or speak with a man named Kyle Vega on the shuttlecraft ride to the planet Xiban I?" he queried, gauging her response.
"No." she replied, calm and simple.
"Miss Yarovich, did you see or speak to Kyle Vega after the shuttlecraft landed on the surface of Xiban I?"
"No." again, without flaw or emotion.

This went on for a solid ten minutes, and the Ensign had nothing of any value to say. This left Franks perplexed, as the lie detector previously confirmed that another crewman, named Ensign Kamato, had seen both Yarovich and Vega together on several occasions both on and off the shuttle. His investigation would continue, however he had no choice but to let her go. As she stood to leave, she cast him a stone cold half-smile before making her way out the door, her mind fabricating the intricate workings of a freshly-inspired murder plot.

*********************************************

"The Enemy Mind is bold and unflinching... this what you must learn to become." Shapiro called out, his voice imposing. "Your target is no joke, he is a threat. He will kill you seven times before you hit the ground, if he ever in his life has the chance - make no mistake. Evolution is tit-for-tat, and you must adapt. Every failure brings a clearer focus into view, and in time I will mold each and every one of you into one of my elite... You will be lethal soldiers, wanted by every starship in the Syndicate for your prowess and accuracy. I breed men of iron and steel...Soldiers."

Shapiro was finally back on duty. He leveled a smile as he looked out over the eight new trainees he had before him. He had just completed roll call and offered a standard spill of duty before finally letting himself settle them in.
"Alright ladies and gentlemen, listen good. Before each of you, you will find a Machman class military-issue pistol. For those of you unfamiliar with the Machman, it boasts an efficient power cell and a solid mid-range output rating. It is very effective close-quarters firepower, with the ability to adapt to most environments by sacrificing range for power, or vice versa. To any of you who are familiar with it... What are you waiting for? Impress me." he chuckled lowly.
"Now... Each of you has your targets, so as comfort blankets you little girls, let loose. You have approximately 18 shots at the default setting before the gun will cease to fire, at which point you will be scored. Once all scores are in, the humiliation can begin." He smiled and stepped behind the row of soldiers, watching as crimson-colored beams began to leap at the holographic images being displayed to each crewman's fire-zone. He was finally back on duty.

*********************************************

Kincade took a slow, indulgent seat at the helm controls of the SS Xephyr. A sinful smile crossed his lips as his fingers danced along the console, ever so slightly bringing the ship's orbit down by a few meters. He was finally at the 'big wheel', even if it was a simple orbital pattern hold. As he leaned back to watch the viewscape of the planet, his left finger tapped repeatedly against his leg, the quiet expression of impatience.

Bernadette Larece noticed this behavior and slighted it, choosing to ignore the new helmsmen as her eyes drifted over to the body of Ensign Syra... she simply could not resist this woman. Deep, soft hazel eyes and hair that draped past her shoulders, falling to just above perfect breasts. The Ensign caught on that she was being watched and leaned back, arching her back for display as she let out a quiet yawn. Ooh, what a *****, Larece thought as she admired the view...

A soft hail signaled and Syra responded, transmitting it to the main viewer to replace the planet's image. The aging face of Ferrius Klyne consumed the screen, he was the planet's Administrator.
"This is Lieutenant Larece, go ahead." she beckoned.
"I regret to inform you, Lt." the administrator began, "That there has been a recent incident at the Space Port. A murder has occurred and until the case is resolved, I've ordered that the planetary shield be raised and that no traffic be allowed on or off Iolo III. I apologize if this causes any inconvenience."
"Inconvenience?" she stammered "Klyne, this ship leaves in two hours, if I have to come down there myself to pick up the Captain-" the comm-link terminated, flaring anger to life within the restless woman. She may have been a science officer, but that was no measure of her heart. She was a fighter, a fierce and furious woman with a deeply rooted behavioral problem. And now she was pissed. A serious, leering set of eyes befell Ensign Syra as Larece spoke.
"Get me Shapiro."

*********************************************

His eyes slowly opened to find the face of Doctor Sullivan hovering above him. A numbness persisted within him, but at least the pain was gone.
"Captain...How do you feel?" she began, offering a warm smile. Caid slowly lifted himself up, his vision that of a drunken mole.
"I've been better...But I normally dont make such an *** outta myself." he smiled, catching a glimpse of blue - the color of her eyes.
"I hope that wasn't all some ploy to test my medical proficiency? Or impress me..." her lips parted in a teasing expression. He throated a chuckle.
"Ughh, that poor guy. The Last thing I remember is taking him to the ground. I thought I knew him." Caid offered regretfully.
"I'm glad you didn't think you knew me like that..." My my, this woman liked to flirt, eh? Caid merely smiled.
"Well we haven't played Doctor yet, now have we?" he asked.
"Actually we just did, but you were passed out... typical man." She retorted, causing his jaw to drop. He had just steered the conversation into a wall... Score one for the Captain!

"In any event..." he laughed, rising fully to his feet. "I've gotta find that guy, at least offer an apology."
"Have you forgotten that you've just been shot? You took a neural disruptor bLast in the shoulder. You're damn lucky that they are designed to impact the head or upper neck, or you wouldn't have been back in command for a long time. Perhaps you should lie down." She requested.
"Is that your official standpoint?" he chipped in, somewhat irritated. After all, he was the Captain. The doctor nodded in affirmation.

"Perhaps you should consider her advice..." a voice interrupted, and the bald man walked in. But whereas Caid was bald by choice, this man looked as if no hair could grow, his head smooth and unscarred by nicks or stubble. The same held true with his face. "Besides... it is I who must apologize to you. After all, you took a shot for me." He managed a crooked smile as he stepped over to face the Captain.

"I am Lejus Sinclair." he continued, "You are Jarren Caid, yes?"
"You are a Psion." Caid replied, narrowing his eyes. No wonder he thought it was Vega, this man had probed his mind and toyed with it... What a disturbing thought. And then to think that he was ready to apologize to him... Caid's anger was a lit fuse, and Lejus could sense it.
"Please, Captain..." he stated, extracting another fact from Caid's mind. "There is no need for tension, I am not here to lay any harm upon you..."
"You need to quit that ****, seriously." Caid snapped at him, his eyes in a malicious glare. "I never mentioned my name and I never mentioned my rank... If you're gonna try and rape my God damned mind dont just sit there tellen me about it! Or so help me..."
"I apologize." Lejus offered, taking a slight step back. "It is really a force of habit, I do not purposely invade, but rather, thoughts often hit me in swarms and I must decipher and filter them... Especially those of stronger minds, such as yourself."

Caid rolled his eyes, as flattery would get the Psion nowhere.
"I know you are undergoing studies...I could help you." Lejus said, sensing Caid's attitude.
"You've been warned about that..." Caid snarled, watching his young doctor take a sidestep as the two men stood face to face. Lejus had nothing to say, and merely lowered his eyes.

"Let's roll, Doctor. We've said what we had to say." Caid started for the door, and the Psion interjected.
"Klyne has refused to allow anyone to leave the facility. He has even gone to the lengths of raising the planet's shields. Sadly, Captain, we are not going anywhere."
"We?" Caid tilted his head. "You're damn right 'we' are not going anywhere, but shield or no shield, I sure as hell am. And so is she. C'mon Doc, we're leaving this rock."

Lejus watched in silence as the two left the small med room and tried in vain to make it past the armed security guards. Caid mouthed off to one of them before trying to reach his ship, only to discover that communications were being jammed. He closed his comm-link and balled up his rage, making the slow walk back to Lejus.
"Alright Sinclair, here we are, stuck. You got me shot and you wanna help? Get our asses outta this place."
"I'm afraid its not that simple." Lejus blurted. "The man who shot you was hired to kill me... It takes one to know one, as the Psionics Almanac puts it. And my hunch is that someone on the planet is furious at his failure. There is a lot going on here, Captain. Iolo III is not what you might think. We have an unseen enemy keeping us here, and you are unwittingly involved now, as you helped me to stop his sentinel." Lejus smiled... it was a rather sinister visage. "Our only way out is to play the field for what it has...people. Lots and lots of people. There are at least 400 souls wandering around this Space Port, and the entire thing has been locked down. All we need to do is build off of that. Its either we get out of here, or when they are done with me... I guarantee that they will finish you two off as a matter of cleanliness. And that is no joke."

Caid's eyes glimmered as he listened to the psion, perhaps this too was one of his tricks... He pondered that thought for a moment, and as Sinclair's own eyes caught the sparkle of amusement, Jarren knew that he had just broadcast that thought loud and clear.
"You yourself were rather displeased when you learned that you couldn't leave, am I correct, Captain? The same holds true for everyone else, I am sure. They only have so many security guards... and they can't stop us all."

*********************************************

A series of bright lights flooded the launch bay, bringing into focus the intrepid hull of the small attack craft 'Camino', the Captain's personal vehicle. Shapiro and his team circled it slowly, running a series of diagnostic scans to ensure that it met a flawless launch.
"Weapon mounts check out, the shield and fusion grids both look intact. I'd bet my *** that this thing could withstand a direct assault and still land unscratched on the surface. The only problem is that shield." He uttered, talking more to himself than the security team. "If we launch a rescue party, it will be within the hour. I want this thing run through all the pre-flight tests and I want it armed to the teeth before it slips out of this bay, understood?" The group nodded. "I'll meet with you all back here in twenty minutes to discuss a strategy." He added, as he opened his communicator and linked up to Lt Larece. He engaged in a hushed conversation with her as he left the crew alone with the Camino.

He emerged on the bridge a short time later, his expression devoid of any emotion. On the screen blinked the image of Ambassador Klyne, having just recently accepted the Xephyr's hail.
"I already warned you once, we will notify you once the investigative procedures are over." An assistant came and whispered into his ear, and Klyne went to disconnect the channel.
"I'm only going to warn you once, Ambassador." Shapiro threatened. "My Captain is down on the surface and come hell or high water, he's leaving unharmed... And right now." Klyne merely sneered, a snide expression upon his lips.
"That would be rather reckless of you, Commander. This is a simple inves-"
"A simple beaurocratic process, yes I'm aware. But as the First Officer of the Syndicate's Flagship, I'm cutting the red tape, Ambassador. One way or the other." He allowed a wink to escape him as he closed the connection.

*********************************************

A small crowd had already began to get restless, inspired by Lejus and his selective suggestions. He slipped through the masses as Caid and Sullivan watched, touching some and whispering to others, witnessing their reactions change and their anger fly...
"What do you think he's telling them?" the Doctor inquired, a lone eyebrow lifted.
"Whatever they want to hear..." Caid replied, his own eyes affixed. "Whatever it takes for each person to go to the level that I did earlier... Whatever angers them or uproots their emotions, that is what he will look for..."
"He called you a psion, were you born of the original blood?" Her gaze found its way to his face as they stood together, backs against the wall.

Caid nodded in acknowledgement. When the Cynapse Syndicate first broke away from Terra, they took with them a large clan of 'the awakened' as they were called, a term designating anyone who was born with an active psi-gene. Many non-psions joined the exodus as well, in support of their cause, as conditions on Terra were not exactly the most admirable. This led to a 'mixed' blood feeling among the Cynapse, as their foundation was based upon Psions, and yet many of them were as telepathically dead as a rock. It made for quite a dilemma, and even a source of internal tension over the past twenty years.

The sound of glass breaking. A riot had begun, and Lejus was loving it. With every ounce of fear and hate he spread, he was feeding off the rebound, an omni-present vibe that compelled him to spread his aura to the public. He cast a stone glance to Caid and his doctor, a simple nod his only action as he slinked back to bathe in the shadows and watch... The instigation had begun.

*********************************************

Yarovich laid back in her bed, her eyes restless as they scanned along a datapad in what appeared to be a very enthralling read. Instead however she was planning her steps, her every calculated move. First she would wait, of course, as no one with half a brain would commit a murder while still in the spotlight... So she would wait, patiently and inhumanly if it so required. One by one, she deleted the specific names from her already cryptic notes. Joel Franks, Dylan Shapiro, Kathy Kamato. She could never again refer to them by these names. Now they would be given new designations. Mark 1, Mark 2, & Mark 3. A thin smile curved at her lips. It quickly faded and she felt a slight headache as some unseen device, embedded deep within her skull, released miniscule amounts of compound Y-679 into her bloodstream. Tonight she would sleep, and tomorrow she would work, but someday soon...she would strike.

*********************************************

The harsh fizz of weapons fire erupted on the planet, as frightened civilians tried to brute force their way past security. Some rather bold Groups were even going after the shield tower, firing wildly towards its outer emitters with stolen rifles. Security saw no mercy as they assaulted the citizens and tourists alike, which finally prompted a reaction from Caid, as he saw his opportunity slide across the floor to him, triggered by the death of a trooper. He picked up the weapon and led Sullivan around the corner, now having lost sight of Lejus. Three rapid shots were all it took to cripple a small detachment of officers as Caid and his doctor raced through the bustling complex.

An explosion sounded as one of the guards on the tower let his plasma grenade drop into the waiting hands of a violent group of rioters... Caid turned to see the flying flesh and bone before a gut-wrenching scream guided his particle beams to their targets. He had a slight surge of shared pain as he watched his own shot rip through the chest of a security guard...A side effect of the psi-gene. The shield tower faltered slightly, its foundation shaken up by the grenade's area of cover.

In the Command Room, a panicked Ferrius Klyne was barking orders to his underlings, deploying more and more of his personal guards to help suppress the out of control Space Port. The Last man to stand at his side, Kevin Madison, found himself sliding to the floor and sobbing with his back to the wall, a perfect model for the fetal position. A soft hand pat him on the head and Lejus stepped past him, his silver eyes alive with fire as Klyne turned around to face him.

"Cascade has lost today, Klyne." Lejus said, his words like fire over ice as he picked up Madison's rifle. "And this is my favor to you, as their punishment for failure would have been much worse." he offered, as he released the safety and pulled the trigger. The Ambassador grunted in agony as the beam seared through him like a hot blade, leaving an open wound as it traveled along his chest at the guidance of Lejus Sinclair. He had been making a surgical incision, and as Klyne's body hit the ground, he kneeled beside it and dug his hands deep within...C'mon..., he thought to himself...I know you're in here...

*********************************************

The Camino broke the atmosphere of Iolo III, having sensed that the shield was failing due to unknown events. Shapiro cared not, however, as his intention was set and focused. Regardless of what was happening on that planet, he was leaving the surface with his Captain, preferably alive.
"I'm reading a break in their jamming field..." Cruz offered, and Shapiro nodded in response.
"Hail Caid... I'm bringing weapons to bear and opening fire." No sooner did the words leave his mouth than did his hands respond at the controls... The Camino's fusion cannons ignited and arced against the planet's shields, holding a steady stream of purple against their flaring emissions... A quick couple of seconds passed as the shield collapsed, allowing the attack shuttle to soar through unharmed.

Two soft chirps sounded, and Caid answered his communicator.
"This is the Captain, and am I glad to hear from you..."
"Sorry, sir, we ran into a little delay. We're approaching the surface now, and have locked onto your coordinates."
"You got room on that thing for three, Dylan?" the Captain asked, watching as Lejus appeared from within the rioting crowds. His hands were blood-stained and something smelled foul, but Caid ignored his urge to choke. "We had a little help from an unexpected source, I'll fill you in later. But the sooner the better, Commander." Caid flipped his comm-link closed and eyed the Psion.

"You go playing in the restrooms or something?" Caid chuckled.
"Something like that..." Lejus responded, his right hand in his pocket, clenching some unknown object. A twisted smile captured Caid's lips as he watched people flee the spaceport. There were a lot of bodies, and much of it was his fault...Of course it couldn't be proven, but still, It was weight on his conscience...something he would have to deal with. The survivors would be fine, but the facility would likely be out of commission for the next month or two, something the Council would not be pleased with.

The shuttle made a slow descent and its cabin doors lifted before it was fully on the ground, allowing a wide enough berth for the three new passengers to jump aboard. As it began its lift-off again, Caid glanced once more out the window at the chaos he had helped to cause as his thoughts turned to the Psion who had come aboard. He would likely allow him to stay for a while, dropping him off at the next inhabitable planet. Clearly he was involved in something far more than the naked eye could see, but until Caid learned to extract this information as persistently as Lejus could conceal it, he would just have to wait.