Season Five [Part Six]

Warning: Graphic Content

- 21 -

The girl had already laid down to bed by the time Stephanie arrived in their darkened quarters. The Captain found a delivery from the galley, still packed up and sitting on the counter. Stephanie quietly transferred the supplies to the refrigerator, noting nothing in the way of evidence that the girl had eaten before retiring for the evening. Stephanie took a single glass of water for herself before heading to their bedroom to join her.

Stephanie’s Pallaca was asleep, but not at all soundly. She wasn’t totally under the covers, huddled herself up into her smallest corner of their bed. The girl’s pillow was marred by tears, her dreams did not appear to be pleasant. DuHart removed her jacket, but suddenly felt too exhausted to undress much further. The Captain peeled her socks off with her toes as sleep took her. Most of the empty space on the bed was between them.

Stephanie had incorrectly assumed that Her Pallaca was dreaming, sleep would not sustain itself for her. The girl drifted in and out of slumber, loosing salvos of tears when she did. The Captain could fall into a deep sleep in a fire-zone, should she need to. But They could not beat dreamless sleeping into her, there did not seem to be any technique for that.

Consciousness slowly worked it’s way into DuHart, she blinked until she could focus her eyes. She was inside an escape pod. She felt weightless, the glass was too frosted to see through. She was awake and inside an escape pod.

Panic wracked Stephanie. She scrabbled to force her arms up into the top half of the pod, there wasn’t enough space inside to move. She wouldn’t have stopped if she had to break her wrists, she had to get her hands on that glass. Stephanie let out a painfully silent, but animalistic scream, as she smashed her forehead against the opaque window in frustration. She achieved nothing.

Suddenly her arms were freed, she pressed her palms onto the glass, trying to melt the frost. The ice wouldn’t go away. Stephanie rubbed her hands against the glass furiously, trying to work some of her body heat into the ice, but she had none to offer. She just needed a glimpse, at least let her see her fate, please.

A hand wrapped firmly around her shoulder. Familiar but different. Not entirely unwelcome physical contact, but DuHart’s panic was shunted aside by terror nonetheless.

“Stephanie, don’t fight the cold.” Were the words of her icy First Mate as he tried to embrace her with his frozen dead hands.

With her left elbow Stephanie crushed his exposed skull, with her right hand she punched out the glass. It was warm outside the pod, Stephanie pulled herself through the tiny opening. It wasn’t large enough for her, especially not with what was left of the borosilicate window. DuHart tumbled down to a floor, gashed and bleeding, but free. She didn’t have time to catch her breath, her first attempted gasp filled her throat with acrid smoke.

Stephanie began to shake, she slowly turned her face upwards from the floor. The halls of Their Black Cutter were burning. Bright flames and dark familiarity stretched out before her. From behind, a wisp of a voice echoed faintly to her.

“Arrow?!” Stephanie shot to her feet, wheeling around to look for him.

Behind her, he was standing there, holding out his hand for her. Stephanie took a step towards him, the hallway behind Arrow was not burning. Looking his way, it was almost as if nothing was amiss at all. She took another step.

The space between DuHart and Arrow did not close. She began to walk his way, to reach outwards to grasp his hands. He tried to grasp at her as well, but some unseen force was taking him off his feet to keep them apart.

Stephanie screamed his name as the fires behind her overtook them. Blasting past her. Stephanie’s First Mate was flayed by the heat, and ripped away from her. The flame bathed DuHart, like a warm embrace. Arrow was screaming her name as the differential pressure began to rattle his body down the shattering corridor.

DuHart couldn’t see Her First Mate this way, not again. In a desperate attempt, she threw herself into a sealed hatchway to her left. Crashing her way through the alloy. Splintering it, putting herself somewhere else, anywhere else. What could be worse than Their Black Cutter?

Stephanie was on her knees, on a cold hard floor. It’s feel under the tips of her fingers sent an electric shock of recognition through her. She shot to her feet and stood at attention. As she did though, she was relieved to see another was already sat at the table. She was only there to stand guard, not under Their scrutiny tonight.

One of Them stepped out from the darkness on the opposite side of the table. Black uniform glinting in the sparse light coming down in a beam from the ceiling. They walked slowly around the table before leaning down, fists rested on the surface, facing the girl sat there. Only when under the full intensity of the beam, was the red trim visible on the uniform.

“We have spoken with you about your claws, haven’t We?” He spoke for Them, They always did.

“Yes Sir.” The girl sitting at the table nearly sobbed.

“And yet, here We are again.” Words delivered through Their gritted teeth.

From the pocket of his uniform, They produced a handheld pair of shears. The kind one might use to trim foliage. They put it carefully onto the table, between Them and the girl. She began to cry silently, staring at it.

“Don’t worry now, We aren’t monsters. You have the opportunity to redeem yourself, Stephanie.” They told the weeping girl sat at the table.

She let out one single sob, then began to shake her head from side to side. They took Their hands off the table and slowly sauntered around to her chair. Reminding her of the handful of years progress since the first and second times. Lamenting her for being so close to a third. They stood behind her and put Their hands on her shoulders.

They murmured into her ear, that the choice was hers. That was Their favorite lie.

DuHart watched from the doorway, as Stephanie slowly stood up from the chair. The young feline’s trembling yellow eyes remained locked on the pair of shears. They wrapped one hand around her throat from behind and They cast the chair away with the other.

“You, come here.” They ordered DuHart.

She stepped forward from the doorway obediently. They pressed the younger one down to the table and instructed DuHart to hold her by the wrists, she obeyed. They took up the shears and cut through the girl’s waistband with them. She stopped crying, and began to glare up at the one holding her.

Behind the girl, They took down her pants and took hold of her tail roughly. They undid the buckle of Their own trousers and unsheathed Their member, already hard and throbbing. They again ordered DuHart to make sure her wrists were held tightly, before leaning close to the girl’s ear.

“Don’t scratch the table.” They ordered, as They forced Their way inside her.

Gripping the girl’s wrists, DuHart had a clear view of her hands. The girl was trying to keep the claws retracted, but with each thrust they spurred forth a little more. They had noticed as well, They took up the shears again. They caressed the tip of the girls tail between the blades. The scar there wasn’t very noticeable yet, covered well by the regrown fur.

With her tail in one hand, and the shears in the other, They fucked the girl until her claws cut into the surface they were pressed against. Once They saw this, They thrust again deeply and clipped her the third time. The girl screamed in pain, but her claws retracted instantly. They came inside her greedily as a few droplets of blood were cast onto DuHart’s face. She could taste the girl’s terror, among other things.

They congratulated Stephanie for a lesson well learned and stowed their satisfied cock. Then with a sly wink to DuHart, They strutted out of the room. Stephanie lay on the table for a moment, and DuHart still held her wrists. Then, realizing there was no need to keep doing so, she let go of her.

The young feline slid off the table to the floor, where she did her best to cover herself with her ruined clothing. Again she began to weep.

“Don’t cry. They like that.” DuHart heard herself say.

The girl cried harder.

“Show strength.” DuHart’s words were from the memory.

“Fuck off!” Stephanie sobbed.

“Are you fixing for a fourth?” DuHart remembered the question well. The answer was yes.

“I’ll get pregnant!” She shouted, before wrapping her hands around her own mouth.

DuHart could remember her fears and her confusion. Twice that of when she awoke to find the blood the first time. Dufresne was the one to explain what it meant. Leaving her there, a few months later, panicking on a cold hard floor. DuHart could remember all of these things.

“You shouldn’t have told me that.” DuHart remembered those words as well.

She remembered the guard taking her by the arm, pulling her to her feet. Dragging her to the infirmary. Stephanie remembered her monthly issues no more after that. But as DuHart stood in the room her memories splintered.

“You stupid child! You shouldn’t have told me that!” DuHart screamed at herself. “Why would you say that to Them!?”

Stephanie pulled the weeping younger her from the floor, shaking the distraught girl violently.

“You could have told me nothing and They wouldn’t have known!” Stephanie screamed at her.

“You are not Them, I am not Them!” Stephanie screamed back.

DuHart cast herself back to the ground with a strike from the back of her hand.

“Dumb stupid fucking bitch!” Her screams filled the tiny room. “You are now!”

DuHart woke again, in their bed. She could still feel her own fur under her fingers. She could still feel her claws sinking into her own throat. Her hands were held out in front of her. Her claws were out.

“Stephanie?” The girl’s question was very quiet, coming from just behind her and to the side.

DuHart took a deep breath, then another. She looked at her hands again, her claws still exposed. Stephanie tried to retract them but she was unable, her hands were in rictus.

The girl crawled to her lover. She had woken a few minutes before Stephanie had, watched her fight the nightmare. The girl could see that her lover had been cut as deeply in the battle as her vessel was.

The girl slowly ran her hands from Stephanie’s shoulders, down her arms. Their fingers slowly intertwined. Stephanie’s fingernails finally, achingly pulled back and she started to cry. The girl let some tears out too.

“I killed him.” Stephanie sobbed.

“War did it.” The girl replied.

“Please, do not justify what I have done.” DuHart begged her.

“I shan’t. Because I don’t need to.” The girl’s answer was quiet but confident.

- 22 -

The girl’s hands held Stephanie’s until they loosened. Then she guided her lover into an embrace. A twisted excitement ran through DuHart as The girl held her from behind. Stephanie listened to her Pallaca’s breathing, slow and calm. DuHart wanted that calm, that serenity. She knew only one way for the girl to share it with her.

“C-could you...” Tears sprung once more from Stephanie’s eyes. “... With your hands…”

“I…” The girl hesitated. Of course she could, but she was far from sure it was right to do. “... If you desire.”

The girl unraveled her fingers from DuHart’s and slid them down her lover’s belly. She slipped her fingers into the uniform pants and took them down. The Pallaca’s hands ran between DuHart’s thighs, DuHart wrapped her hands around her own face and continued to weep.

The girl worked her fingers into Stephanie, as she did her lover bent down and grabbed a handful of the sheets with one hand. Her other remained tightly holding her lips closed. The girl was uncomfortable but would do anything for her lover, her fingers continued to trace their way around inside Stephanie’s quivering vagina.

DuHart held the sheets tightly with her fingernails contained, her toes were curling. With her other hand she slowly slid her fingers up her face to put her index in line with the nearly healed slit, put on her cheek at the Masquerade. As the girl worked Stephanie to orgasm, The Captain traced the sharp claw of that index finger along the line. She reopened the wound, but not cleanly.

The girl recoiled, falling over into a seated position against the headboard. Stephanie was on all-fours pushing her bum upwards, sputtering and begging for the girl not to stop. The fur on her shortened tail was stood on end. The Captain was working her claw against the skin of her face, tearing it.

“No! Stop it!” The girl cried out in horror, rushing to grip Stephanie’s wrist with both of her hands.

The Concubine pulled at the claw, wrenching it from her lover’s cheek. Blood spattered her pale skin before she wrapped both of her arms around Stephanie’s neck, embracing her as protectively as her instincts commanded

DuHart blinked and looked at her hand, her own blood dripping off the index fingernail. She slowly brought it to her lips and lapped a few carmine droplets onto her tongue. The Captain pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth; Rage, Lust, Some bizarre cocktail of small feelings, but The Captain could taste no trace of her terror.

The girl felt Stephanie weaken in her arms, the staccato of her sobs giving way to a loose sound of lament. She stroked her lover’s back, the Trans-Human’s fur was stood on end under her shirt. The girl wished to smooth it down, maybe give Stephanie a clearly needed massage.

“Take off your shirt.” She told Stephanie.

DuHart reached down and tore the clothing from her body. The girl was startled to see this display, but shocked when her lover reached out and took hold of the sides of her head. Stephanie plunged her tongue into the girl’s mouth. Her pallaca held her arms to her sides hesitantly for a few moments. She was forced to move her hands though, when Stephanie dragged her tongue over the inside of her cheek.

Three things happened so quickly, neither of them could specify the order of events. The girl had a frightful orgasm, Stephanie’s tongue was pulled bloodied and free of Her Pallaca’s mouth, and the girl put her fist into DuHart’s eye hard enough to blacken it. They both fell onto opposite corners of the mattress.

Stephanie pressed her knuckle into her eye, and groped at herself with her other hand. Her sobs were beginning to take on some of the the depth of the warbling sound she was capable of. The girl swallowed the blood in her mouth and tried to understand what was happening.

“St-Stephanie?” The girl mumbled, then she shook her head and began to push herself across the bed. “Stephanie!”

The Concubine climbed onto her lover and swatted her hands away from her face. The girl shrieked The Captain’s name and fought to control her arms. Stephanie felt the grip on her left wrist, then the palm across her cheek shortly thereafter. The girl straddled the frantic feline and wrapped her body around her protectively. Stephanie’s Pallaca pressed her cheek against DuHart’s while she wrapped one hand around Stephanie's still taught wrist, and the other hand tightly around her lover’s throat.

Slowly, Stephanie’s breathing calmed, she eventually let her arms fall to the mattress. The girl hesitantly released her lover’s wrist and began to stroke her hair. The girl murmured to DuHart while maintaining her grip around her neck. Stephanie’s hands began to move in spurts, approaching her lover’s body.

DuHart’s fingers traced their way from the girl's thighs to her shoulders, taking their time and carefully examining her curves. The girl’s fingers combed down through Stephanie’s cropped hair to her ear, where they gripped firmly. DuHart’s hands took hold of the girl’s dark locks and began to tug, but the girl simply twisted her lover’s ear to temper the behavior.

The Trans-Human began to run her fingernails through the girl’s hair, and towards the fabric of her dress. The Concubine tweaked her lover’s earlobe again in warning, and so the claws were stowed. With just the tips of her fingers, DuHat ran her hands down her lover’s back, and pulled her dress into the crack of her bum. Stephanie began to work her grip from the inside the the outside of the girl’s thighs.

Her underwear had been rolled partly down through her dress. Her lover’s hands were rolling more of her dress between her legs, and her panties further astray. Not to mention driving the girl mad, yet she still maintained her hold on her lover’s ear. The girl’s body rose away from duHart as she arched her back, her lover’s blood smearing the side of her face.

Then Stephanie snapped one hand to the girl’s shoulder for just a moment. To pull the top of her dress down, exposing the girl’s breasts. The Trans-Human leaned forwards and took her Pallaca’s left nipple into her mouth. The girl inhaled sharply, then moaned a tiny high-pitched moan as she bit her lower lip.

The girl was being rocked backwards and forwards by DuHart’s handiwork. She was beginning to lose herself to her lover, her grip on Stephanie’s ear loosened slightly, as did her grip on her throat.

First, the girl gave a tentative squeeze with her thumb and forefinger. Stephanie’s pulse was beating powerfully under her hand. Then the girl gently stroked her lover’s neck a few times, before running her hand further downward and through Stephanie’s fur.

DuHart sucked the girl’s nipple, drawing most of it past her teeth. She ran her tongue over it carefully, but forcefully. The girl let her fingers slide down Stephanie’s ear, then off it completely, as she came. DuHart’s hands wrapped around her legs more tightly, riding her grip up between them and taking up most of the girl’s weight.

The Concubine’s hands made their way to the sides of her own face, where they ran up and down for a moment while she shuddered. Stephanie released the girl’s breast from her mouth and drove her nose into her crotch. The girl rested her hands on DuHart’s head as they both drew breath. Stephanie's knees were drawn closer while a tiny tremor ran through her body.

The girl felt herself being lowered onto her lover’s stomach. Stephanie lay still for a few minutes, Her Pallaca straddled her and panted. The girl slowly laid herself onto Stephanie. She rubbed her cheek against DuHart’s and wrapped her arms around her. Stephanie slowly embraced the girl back.

“Do you feel better?” The girl cooed.

“Yes.” Stephanie wasn’t sure, it showed in her voice.

“What’s happened Stephanie?” The girl asked, while she flattened the fur on Stephanie’s face.

“I am not finished, with the Federal vessel out here.” She answered.

The Captain’s reply was grave. Her implications in no way misunderstood by Her Pallaca. The girl swallowed and took a deep breath, she would be ready. She had no choice but to be ready, so she would be. The time to speak of her friend from the galley was later, once funerary rites were planned. Not now. But the girl steeled herself further, because she knew her lover had dodged her question.

“Stephanie…” The girl looked into DuHart’s darkened eyes. “What happened, before?”

The Captain became tense, but the girl did not. The Concubine’s hands continued to gently caress DuHart, unabated. She waited patiently for her lover to prepare to speak.

“I-I was, Th-They…” Stephanie drew air in through her gritted teeth and jammed her eyes shut. “They raped me.”

The girl pulled herself closer into DuHart. Stephanie tried to do nothing, but she couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, or her embrace from tightening as well. She began to shake.

“It’s not your fault.” The girl murmured. Now she understood why Stephanie insisted that it was, in her sleep.

Stephanie made a sound like she’d been stabbed, grimaced. She held the girl almost painfully tight and rolled onto her side at the foot of the bed. Stephanie’s legs curled up around the girl, and her whole body began to be wracked by sobs.

“It’s not your fault, Stephanie.” The girl repeated, her own tears running down her cheeks.

“How do you know?” DuHart begged through her sobs.

“Imperial Law cannot consider it to be rape, if there is a receipt.” The girl quoted, His words still hurting her more than she’d hoped.

“I’m sorry.” Stephanie mumbled, embarrassed.

“No!” The girl took a small breath before she continued. “No, I will not accept that apology. Imperial Law can taste it’s own asshole; You are my Justice, Stephanie DuHart! I will always do anything for you.”

The girl pressed herself to her lover’s breast, and let her tears fall into her fur. Stephanie took a hand and ran its fingers through the girl’s hair. Before too much longer, neither of them were crying anymore. The Captain was already aware that she had saved the girl’s life. It was only then that Stephanie realized; Her Pallaca meant to return the favor.

“Thank you, My Love.” Stephanie said.

“Anything, always.” The girl sighed quietly. “I love you too.”

- 23 -

23:47

-The INV Queentia Iactura begins sweeping target system with sensors.

00:03

-Strong signal return discovered. Long range scans inconclusive. Signal originating from orbital proximity to Third body, Type Three Gas Giant.
-Captain orders further scans and analysis.

00:51

-Further Sensor sweeps and Analysis prove inconclusive.

-Order given to approach signal source.
-Yellow Alert Ordered.

02:15
-Red Alert Ordered.

02:20

-The INV Queentia Iactura drops into Realspace within combat proximity of source of signal. Signal Source is revealed to be That Good Night (5770M length, Unknown Capacity, See Attached Report: GenerationShip) Immediate observation indicates their drives are not active, but they have power.

-Captain belays Order from Tactical to reduce Alert to Yellow.

-Captain and Tactical Officer discuss option of sending shuttles to That Good Night, Captain refuses option until remote contact can be established.

02:21

-Communications Officer begins to hail That Good Night.

03:49

-Communications Officer Establishes contact with That Good Night via radio. Transcript included below. (Communications Officer on board Queentia Iactura identified as vessel. Unidentified voice from That Good Night identified as vessel.)

[INV Queentia Iactura][Speaking Lingua Imperialis]: This is The Imperial Navy Vessel Queentia Iactura, if you are receiving this transmission; please respond in any way you can.

[That Good Night][Speaking Common English]: You have to help us, please!

[Communications officer beckons The Captain and The Tactical Officer to Communications station before responding.]

[INV Queentia Iactura][Speaking Common English]: We are prepared to offer any and all aid we can, what is your situation?

[That Good Night]: They attacked, this thing was never meant to make course changes. We have no fuel, there’s been a mutiny, I-I’m not even supposed to be at this console. You have to hurry, they know we’re here!

[INV Queentia Iactura]: Is the room you are in secure?

[That Good Night]: What? No, no! There’s no-one but me alive on this deck, but the rest of us are still in the hab-rings, please! They’re coming back, they know where we are!

[INV Queentia Iactura]: Who knows?

[That Good Night]: We have no idea! They came out of nothing like you just did, but they weren’t talking. Their ship looked nothing like you, it was hard, wedge shaped. Red and black. The word ‘Hellion’ was painted on it.

[INV Queentia Iactura]: You have our protection, from The Hellion.

[That Good Night]: W-what was that flash, was that you?

[Communications officer is interrupted by an automated weapons-fire warning]

04:02

-Confirmation via sensors of The firing of a Bombardment Accelerator.

-Captain Orders all hands to brace for impact.

-Communications Officer relays order to That Good Night.

04:03

-Transmission received:

[That Good Night]: We lost internal comms hours ago.

04:05

-That Good Night is bifurcated by Bombardment Accelerator round. The forward section takes on excessive rotational velocity and comes apart.

-The Captain orders The Queentia Iactura into a blocking position, covering That Good Night’s rearward section.

-The Captain Orders a Distress signal be sent out to Naval Command.

04:06

-The Communications Officer sends the distress signal, and advises The Captain that the signal can only travel as fast as light.

04:07

-A second round from the Bombardment Accelerator passes through the empty space inside the Habitation-Ring of The Queentia Iactura, it continues on, passing through the space inside the paired Habitation-Rings on the rear section of That Good Night. No damage.

-The Communications Officer curses.

-Firing solutions are successfully calculated.

-The Captain belays an order from Tactical to bring about the Main Lance.

04:08

-The INV Queentia Iactura opens fire with Portside Lance Batteries.

-The Captain orders all hands to remain braced for impact.

04:13

-No confirmed damage to The FNS Hellion.

-A third round from the Bombardment Accelerator passes through the primary drives of The INV Queentia Iactura.

-Tactical Officer orders Fireteams deployed.

-Captain gives order not to stop returning fire.

04:17

-Damage to FNS Hellion confirmed. The Bombardment Accelerator is fired a fourth time but malfunctions. The detonation is sighted and caught on sensors by The Queentia Iactura.

04:19

-Tactical Officer orders cease fire. There have been no effective firing solutions for One minute and Thirty seconds.

04:20

-Captain orders Communications be established with what is left of That Good Night.

-Tactical Officer orders a detachment of marines off watch and to supplement Fireteams.

05:03

-Communications Officer reports ‘I can keep trying, but they’ve gone dark, Captain.’

05:05

-Captain orders Communications Officer to focus on monitoring sensors.

-Communications Officer reports The Hellion has gone to Hyperspace some time ago.

05:06

-Tactical Officer orders Communications officer to triangulate the wake of The FNS Hellion.

-Captain speaks but is not recorded effectively.

-Tactical Officer requests Captain repeat orders.

-Captain denies having spoken.

05:24

-Communications Officer reports incoming Hyperspace signature.

-The Captain curses.

-Tactical officer and Captain order Battle stations over each-other.

-Captain repeats order for Battle Stations.

05:26

-The FNS Hellion arrives in Realspace, crossing The Queentia Iactura’s Stern, roughly 800M out.
-The Captain orders a maneuver. The Operations Officer reminds her that drives are disabled.

05:27

-The FNS Hellion delivers a salvo with it’s Starboard Batteries. Damage is severe, but limited to the aft sections of The Queentia Iactura. The main drives are further destroyed, and the casualties are primarily among the Fireteams deployed there.

-Fighter Squadrons are scrambled from The Queentia iactura.

05:28

-Fighters are sighted on deployment from The Hellion.

-Tactical station receives a gunnery report that the aftmost portside lance turret has a firing solution. The report is passed along verbally to The Captain.

-The Captain orders that turret to open fire.

-Tactical Officer reports that they already have.

05:30

-Fighter squadrons engage.

05:32

-A second salvo from The Hellion strafes the Stern and Port side of The Queentia Iactura.

-Tactical officer begins receiving and relaying damage reports.

-The Captain requests that Tactical Officer stop reporting damage.

-The Captain begins to address Her Bridge Crew.

-The Communications Officer interrupts, suggesting the entire crew should hear The Captain Speak.

-The Captain agrees.

05:33

-The Captain clears her throat while attempting to address all remaining hands onboard the INV Queentia Iactura.

-The INV Noctis Tenebra, the vessel of Captain Tiberius Jhey Hooker, drops from Hyperspace roughly 800M astern the FNS Hellion, and 450M Starboard The INV Queentia Iactura.

-The Noctis Tenebra is ordered to all ahead full, to cover the other Imperial Vessel.

05:34

-The FNS Hellion fires a last salvo into The Queentia Iactura, with scattered results.

-The INV Noctis Tenebra opens fire and disables the Federal vessel’s main drives with concentrated fire from its Port and Starboard Lance Batteries.

-Fighters are scrambled from The INV Noctis Tenebra.

05:37

-The INV Noctis Tenebra completes it’s maneuver, covering The Queentia Iactura and pulling alongside The FNS Hellion.

05:41

-The FNS Hellion’s weapons systems are confirmed disabled.

05:45

-Captain DuHart orders fighter squadrons recalled.

05:55

-Captain DuHart orders communications be established with The Noctis Tenebra.

05:57

-Communications Officer aboard The Queentia Iactura reports: ‘They either have lost communications, or are refusing hails, Sir.’

07:00

-The INV Noctis Tenebra ceases firing on The FNS Hellion when the Federal vessel’s main reactor goes critical due to sustained lance fire.

-The Noctis Tenebra suffers an unknown level of damage to it’s Port side in the blast. The INV Queentia Iactura suffers no further damage.

07:02

-The INV Noctis Tenebra begins to spool their Hyperspace drives.

07:07

-During Realspace egress The INV Noctis Tenebra transmits a coded data packet to The INV Queentia Iactura. (Data is fragmented beyond 90%, unrecoverable.)

The INV Queentia Iactura was left dead in the water, eventually recovered by combined Naval action, with recovery commencing five days later. The Queentia Iactura required a complete reconstruction of the drive systems, and a full overhaul before being cleared to sail again. Suffering a total of 442 lost souls in the battle.

The FNS Hellion was destroyed, losing all but three hands to the void.

A complete report of Damage and loss of life to That Good Night is still incomplete.

Addendum:

The vessel referred to in the above report as The INV Noctis Tenebra, and the presence of Captain Tiberius Hooker in the report is likely erroneous, see below.

This report is corroborated by sensor logs and other crew reports from The INV Queentia Iactura, Naval Logistics has accepted the contents of this report as a factual timeline of events. No reports have been submitted from The INV Noctis Tenebra. Captain Hooker and his vessel were stationed almost twenty light years away, travel logs and local News-net corroborate this.

Captain Hooker has offered the possibility that a spoofed transponder was used as part of some unknown further deception. Captain DuHart has offered no speculation. Naval Logistics is at a loss to determine a probable explanation for this discrepancy. No intentional subterfuge on the part of either Captain is suspected at this time.

- 24 -

Two days and the majority of a third had passed since the end of the battle. The Imperial Navy had seen fit to send two Cutters filled with supplies. Captain DuHart had been forced to send another communique to Naval Command, requesting aid again, for the Generation Ship.

The Imperial Navy would prove more than slightly reluctant to overtake jurisdiction of the situation, insisting it was a matter for the local government. That Good Night was stranded in an unpopulated system. Captain DuHart’s most recently sent message danced it’s wording around an idea to force their hand. She had suggested that she may have no choice but to refuse an attempt to recover The Queentia Iactura in order to leave some kind of garrison for the beleaguered That Good Night.

Her plan would work, she knew the procedures well. Her actions would put a delay on the recovery, while the Imperial Navy gathered resources to comply. At the time though, Stephanie was unsure of that, more concerned with what was at hand.

They had shuttled crews to That Good Night. The situation was grim. What resources were available to make repairs to her ship were instead being funneled into damage control for the other. The Navy would not approve, once they learned. But DuHart was well aware that only The Queentia Iactura would be capable of holding out in it’s current state much longer.

Stephanie had to occupy herself with something, and she was certain what it would be. The damage to her ship was extensive, a gash had been torn into the Hab-Ring. There was more damage reported, but Stephanie was concerned only with that one piece of information.

The girl was safe, The Captain was sure of this via internal comms. But the corridor beyond The Captain’s Quarters had lost pressure. Compared to active burns and ruined critical systems, the predicament on the First deck was minor and would take some time to reach priority.

Stephanie DuHart intended to take her mind off this matter, by interrogating one of the survivors from The Hellion.

Only three had been pulled from the void, and two had been kicking and screaming. Not the last two, but a pair of Condor pilots had been captured. One found in a disabled craft, tumbling wildly. The other had survived a Kamikaze run into the aft shuttle bay. The latter was not expected to revive from his coma in any predictable time-frame, while the former was under close supervision in the brig until his combat-stim withdrawals waned.

Stephanie would have preferred to be left alone with it, but the cargo-bay contained more than just herself and the escape pod. There was also Cael, and six Marines. She eventually ordered one of those Marines to open the blasted thing.

As the Marine followed her order, a hand reached out from inside the pod. The hatch was swung open forcefully and a man began to step out from the pod, a Federal Issue Plasma pistol in his other hand.

The Marine beside him raised her carbine and put a round just above his hip. His leg crumpled and he turned as he began to fall, she put a second bullet into his center of mass. His weapon clattered to the floor and he fell into a heap on top of his legs.

“Ohh! That was stupid!” He moaned as he rolled over onto his side.

“Manus super caput tuum!” The Marine commanded as she kicked his weapon out of reach, keeping her carbine trained on him.

“Super hands?” He whined. “Oh! Oh yeah I’ll- ARGH!”

As the man understood the order he tried to comply with it, and the shard of his ceramic-composite trauma-plate twisted in the wound tract.

A second Marine took up position to cover the man with their weapon, as the first slipped the sling of her carbine off, to hand it away to a third. She drew her sidearm, and used her off hand to grab the man’s wrist. She raised his arm to check him, while her weapon remained poised to kill him if need be. The man whimpered in pain and his blood ran out onto the floor. After a moment, the first Marine holstered her handgun.

“Medic!” She shouted. Kneeling down, she spoke again in a whisper. “Fuck me for helping you, and Rodriguez over here makes your corpse unidentifiable. Understand?”

Gritting his teeth, the man from the escape pod nodded. She gave him no further warning before she pulled the shard out of his belly, and leaned onto the wound with her palms. His cries echoed.

The medic checked for smaller pieces, and finding none he stapled the man’s stomach closed. The bullet that struck his kidney had been caught by his protective vest, but he most likely had internal bruising. The trauma-plate was meant to stop a faster round, wherein it would shatter. But the carbines were loaded for internal security, their projectiles travelling much slower comparatively. This combined with the sidelong angle of the shot, had found an edge-case the designers of the vest had not. The man would live. Though a very deep wound, the shard had missed anything vital.

With a shot of antibiotics and another of painkiller, the man was propped up against a cargo container for The Captain to speak with. His hands were bound behind his back, but he couldn’t feel them anyway. Nor could he feel his feet. His will for flight or fight was long gone by now.

“Sh-shouldn’t I go to a hospital, or something?” The man asked as he surveyed his cut open vest and Flightsuit, fixating on the four staples underneath the layers.

“There is no hospital to take you to.” The Captain replied.

The man spoke English, and Captain DuHart was obliging him. Her Tactical Officer standing stoically beside her. Cael’s mastery of the tongue was scarcely strong enough to follow the two native speakers, let alone join in.

“I meant like, the sick-bay.” His words were gasping.

“Indeed.” The Captain’s reply was very severe. “What were you doing here?”

“Getting payed.” He closed his eyes to answer, shuddered.

“Not anymore, you aren’t.” The Captain reached into her jacket and produced one of her pistols. “What was the Federal Navy trying to accomplish out here?”

“Trying’s over. They did.” He shot a glance to the pistol, then let his eyes fall to his own feet. “You can hurry up and use that. Fuckers never told me anything anyway.”

“You aren’t Navy.” DuHart spoke as she realized.

“Naval Auxiliary, but I guess that doesn’t count does it.” He was surprised that chuckling hadn't hurt.

“Not when it needs to.” Stephanie put her weapon away. “Where is your ship, Commander?”

“You blew it up.” He answered sullenly.

“I see. I’m sorry that’s happened to you.” The Captain took a step towards the man, and knelt down. “Talk to me, I can help.”

“No you can’t, not me.” He muttered.

“When did you learn about That Good Night?” The Captain tried.

“What good night?” He was worried as he asked.

“The Generation Ship.” Stephanie clarified.

“Oh…” The Commander went a little bit paler. “I learned about them, two or three weeks ago.”

“And, The Federation?” Captain DuHart asked her question slowly

“I don’t know.” The Commander answered fast.

“What did they have you doing?” Her next query was not as severe.

“Running messages around.” He said, shaking his head.

“There is no chance, you’ve read any of them?” Stephanie smirked a little.

He laughed and shook his head, The Captain thanked him and ordered him to be made as comfortable as possible. Cael and Stephanie marched out of the Cargo-bay together.

“You know you can’t trust Commanders, Steph.” Theo told her as they walked.

“Not quite, Mister Theo.” The Captain announced. “You can indeed trust a Commander, to betray. Knowing when and where it will occur is the difficult part, outside of that Commanders are quite trustworthy. Or perhaps predictable is the better word.”

“You believe him?” Cael asked.

“Yes and no.” DuHart looked into the middle distance as she spoke. “He has nothing more for us, that much I believe.”

“What is he lying about?” Cael wondered. “How do you know?”

“He was the one who found the Generation Ship. It cannot be proven, and he will be forced to live out his days with himself and that knowledge.” She explained quietly.

“But-” Stephanie cut Cael off.

“I know because I could smell his loathing, it was for himself Cael.” The Captain blinked. “They lied to him, most likely saying they would offer aid to That Good Night.”

“That is how The Federation does these things?” Cael was aghast.

“One way.” Stephanie replied.

Their elongated on foot journey was quiet from there, to the makeshift officer’s quarters Stephanie had made of her ready room. Cael’s quarters on Deck two were accessible, but The Captain had requested he stay with her until the girl was safe. Cael Theo could have argued that the girl already was safe, but instead he accepted Stephanie’s request.

She was huddled next to the wall mounted intercom. He was changing from his uniform into his nightclothes. The girl told her lover that all was well, and that she was in no distress. Assuring DuHart repeatedly during their conversation. Stephanie’s face was showing how worried she was, though her voice did not. After more time than anyone meant to track, The Captain bid a night’s farewell to the girl and shut the connection.

Cael would pretend not to watch as Stephanie spent the next twenty minutes sitting at the intercom, saying nothing and remaining completely still. Stephanie’s Tactical Officer had been truly unsure as to why she required his presence, those few nights. To be fair, so was DuHart. He dismissed one explanation that came to mind all together, deciding that it made no sense: She was afraid of what she would do if forced to be alone.

The girl stared at the intercom after it went silent. Her hands beginning to shake. She took a deep breath as a handful of tears dropped from her eyes. Then she calmed, her hands steadied. She took another breath. The girl turned and looked towards the kitchen, occupying her mind with what to prepare for her dinner. She would be strong for Stephanie, as Stephanie had been for her.

In The Captain’s Office, an unseen message was waiting. It would be deleted a few days later, shortly after DuHart opened it. The encoding perfectly resembling fragmented data, but in reality it was a cipher. One Captain DuHart knew well. It told her something grave and disheartening, yet as encouraging as it was worrisome. It was a message from Captain Hooker. The cipher was one used exclusively by The Shadow Operations Group.

-i don’t know anymore.

-all you owe me is silence.