The sound of the summon brought a sigh to his lips. “When it rains...”  he whispered half to himself. “It is nice to meet both of you and I look forward to working with you both.” He told them and gave a soft nod of his head.  “You are right, we are being summoned.”

He slipped the data pad in the pocket of his trousers and followed Xy down the hall.  Why the alien chose to wear power armor everyplace only re-enforced his summation the creature was looking for a fight.  He truly suspected that he would find that Xy was the sort to have to be held back as not to rush the enemy.

It was interesting to see humor with Irina.  He did not associate humor with most Russians.  Another side of her, he wondered how many sides she had.

-----> From Mission Room

Xyran was walking slowly down the halls checking the names on all the rooms wondering to himself just how many were actually going to return from this mission, the question lingered on his mind for some time as he opened the door to his quarters then locked it behind him taking a seat at the desk in the corner of the room.

Xyran looked through the drawers for a pen and paper once done he began writing, mostly his thoughts and wishes in the event he doesn't return from this mission something that was always a possibility, with that bit out of the way he stashed the note in the drawer and cleaned up the room a bit given the fact he kinda just threw everything in here from before the briefing, so he started putting everything in its respective places laying out everything he was gonna need for the mission so there would be no last minute scrambling to find what was needed.

In one corner there was a stand for his power armor that Xyran constructed himself for when he didn't have time to bring it back to the armory or when he needed it for non combat related purposes like lifting really heavy loads etc, several gun racks to house any salvaged gear he may find out on these missions, there were also weapon/storage chests he had special ordered be brought in and placed in the room... in short the room was designed in mind as a mini armory and workshop for all his hording needs.

He laid on the bed and got as much rest as he could being fatigued before a big fight was a sure way to get killed.
This message was last edited by the player at 05:37, Fri 12 July 2013.

---Mission briefing-->

The presence had left him as he moved down the hall, but the pain was still here.  It felt as if the space behind his eyes was swollen and threatening to break out his temples.  The corridor was thankfully empty, he suspected many were either going to get something to drink, or getting some rest before the invasion.

He stopped before the door of his room, focusing on the lettering of his name on the door.  The moment of focus brought a clarity that cut through the pain like the morning sun cutting through the cold winter night.  A breath of warmth that seemed to strike him in the chest and fill him with life.  It floated before him, in the eye of his mind, the red nebula with the black ships shrouded in it, only seen when the bright flashes of energy illuminated the blood like clouds.

The battle would be a victory, and this would be the response.  The Demons would not see humanity as weak any longer, and the war would be stepped up.  He needed to find this place, this nebula, it would be where they would step it up.

The moment was gone as soon as he started to realize what he had found, feeling that backlash of energy hit him, shutting him down and collapsing him to his knees before the door of his room.

There is a knock on the door

The knock on the door brought him around.  He stood, his knees still shaky and he opened the door, leaning on it.  “Ah, Hunter, here for that drink?”  He asked, wiping the blood from his nose.

He moved aside to let Hunter in.  “So, you are excited for the attack?”  He asked as he focused more on the conversation, and tried to put the pounding pain in his head aside.

Hunter steps in with a bottle in his hand.
Looks at Justice, "I hope you won the argument" he says softly.
"Would you like some help cleaning it up".

he pauses at the question.
"Exited not exited both can get in the way of a soldier doing his job".
"It is more accurate to say I look forward to using the skills I am trained in well".
"Training can only take you so far, it is at the sharp end of combat you find the truths of life"
This message was last edited by the player at 08:49, Sun 14 July 2013.

Xyran shifted violently in his sleep as the nightmare he was experiencing grew more and more intense, the memories off his service days in the Lazarus Concordance's death squads as they stalked from home to home gunning down small demon children and women in mass and razing there homes to the ground... really started to haunt him.

The thought made him doubt his humanity despite not being human himself, it was more on the level of some of the most vile of demons... to beat them you had to become as tough and as ruthless as them and put your fears and prejudices to the side, it was all the demons knew but it made him wonder on just how many there actually were that weren't like that.

In reply to John Hunter (msg # 81):

“I believe a little luck is involved.”  He says and takes a seat at the chair by the desk, letting Hunter sit on the bed.  “As for the nose, it is just the change in climate, you know, different air here on the ship.  A lot more dry then Fuji.”  He motioned to the desk for him to put the bottle.

“I do not have any glasses.  What did you bring?” He took out a rag from the duffle in the closet and cleaned up his nose a little more.  The feeling of the pins and needles was still there.  He suspected alcohol would help with that though.

Hunter shakes his head "come on "he says and leads the way back to his room across the corridor. "Come in Justice, then we can drink and talk."
"Then we are using all free and heading for where we need to be"
Hunter takes 2 shot glasses and fills each of them

In reply to John Hunter (msg # 84):

Standing from his chair he followed Hunter to his room.  “So what is it you have for us to drink?  Sake?”  He asked and took a seat on Hunter's bed, leaning back.  He looked around the room, seeing the various decorations.

“So, you have family at home?”  He asked and dabbed the rag against his nose.  “Brothers, sisters, that sort of thing?”

Hunter holds out the bottle of 12 year old Malt Whisky, "just this I am afraid" he says

"Parents are dead, my sister should be off the coast of Newfoundland studying the Humpback whales."
"Every since they discovered the key to communication she has been there, claims the language of the great whales is more complex than ours."

Hunter smiles fondly at the memory, "some times I envy her out look on life, all in all I guess that is what makes me carry on."
"I want my sister to be able to do so"


"What of your self, what brings you all the way out here with your gift"?

In reply to John Hunter (msg # 86):

He took the shot glass and the amber drink inside it, sipping it slowly to savor the flavor.  “Shame we do not have some nice fat Cuban cigars right about now.”  He mentioned and lifted the glass.  “To your sister.”  He offered and then downed the shot.

“What has me out here?” He repeated the question and set down the glass to get refiled.   “I am one of the few who have this.. gift, if you want to call it that.” He said and leaned back taking the refilled shot.  “I do not know if it is common knowledge, but the demons have what you might call mind activated equipment.  Interfaces for their computers and machines that run directly to the mind.  Before when humans have tried to interface with them, there has been disastrous results.”  He took a sip from the shot glass.  “I hope my encounters are not as perilous.”

Hunter drinks "you are correct in my life I have met two others".
"And he always knew where the ambush was going to be"
Hunter pauses
"I apologise for bringing it up, but I prefer cards on table in this sort of operation."
"I have to trust you just as you have to trust me".
"This much I will promise you nothing that is said in here will ever leave this room no matter what the circumstances."
"My sworn oath on it on the blade and by the blade"

Justice smiled and sipped the scotch.  Leaning back he looked at John.  “Well, lets just say I do not know the extent of my abilities.  But for now, I can see something’s, mostly people.  I can read most people, understand them, get emotions and ideas from them, if I focus.”  He told him and shrugged.

“Like anything else, I can learn more with practice.” He downed his drink.

Hunter nods, "And how draining is this to you and how much danger do you place your self in using the skill"

"When we get back to earth and if you wish I will take you to see the two people I know that have the gift, and see if you all can help each other"

“How long is a piece of string?” He replied back.  “The adverse effects depend on how hard I work at it.  Just like anything else, your body responds to the stress like it would anything else.  I work out too much, I get soar, I run too far, I get tired.  It is just like that.”

He smiled.  “I suspect the friends of yours are monks?”  He asked and set the empty glass back on the table.

Hunter shakes his head leans over and whispers " My Sister is no monk".
The other is an ex SAS sgt

Jesse had passed a few people that had been aboard the shuttle and she had noticed were in the fighting group.  Tired, she'd simply give a courteous quiet nod and proceed on about her business.  Reaching her quarters and knowing what little bit of information she'd been given, she double checked, securely closed and locked her door to her quarters, she fell upon the bed in a heavy, exhausted manner.


She turned over a couple of times and finally clutched her pillow as she had the night before and drifted off to sleep.

Jesse was reading over a book she'd found interesting information on and in the middle of the first sentence, passed out.  It was the buzzing of the COM unit with a messaging that had her bolting upright in her standard casual dress, her special holster for her katana and this time her pulse gun was attached to her side holster instead.

She quickly slipped on her shoes and made her way to the debriefing.  The response of the message put a slight smile on her face.  She was curious to what was going to happen or be said.


....> to debriefing room.

---> Civil Section

The lift opened as Jesse was boarding.  He did not step off as he could see she was headed someplace.  “Miss Dalton.” He said with a nod.  Letting her take control of the lift.  He rode in silence, not wishing to speak.  He had let the team down on the bridge, and was feeling a bit of shame from that.

Debriefing room---->

Rec Dec #2 ---> Non-com quarters

Irina stepped out of the lift, and navigated her way through the hallways until she was standing in front of the door to her cabin. With a relieved sigh she stepped into her cabin. As soon as she heard the door click closed behind her Irina started discarding her cloths. She stepped into the shower as she flung the last of her clothes into a corner. The hot water that pelted her skin felt like a blessing, and she lingered under it for a long time. Tatyana grappled with the particulars of how to wash her left arm, without a right hand. After some trial, and error she finally found a method that worked. That small hurdle cleared she turned off the water.

Once out of the shower she toweled off, taking particular care to ensure she didn't peel up the edges of the dermaplast. When Irina reached her right wrist she stopped, and for the first time really studied what was left. Tentatively she reached out, and touched the metal that extended out of her body. It was cold, and unyielding. Yet despite that Irina felt the fingers of her dancing upon her right hand. She dimly remembered hearing something about phantom limbs. Even with that understanding, Irina was mesmerized by the sensation. She kept playing her fingers across the metal learning how it correspond to places on her missing hand.

Finally the chill of standing there naked tore her away. Irina finished toweling off, and slipped on some simple sleeping attire. Clothes still strewn about the room she flopped down onto her rack. The sound of soft snoring soon filled the room.

---> Mission Room

He was walking to his room when the swirl of emotion came to him.  Perhaps it was because he did not shut himself out yet, but there it was, a vortex of emotions, anger, frustration, sadness, and under it all, fear.  The emotions were string, and he walked down the hall as if centering on the feelings.

He stood before Irina’s door, it was just one person inside the room, and he could sense that.  He knocked on the door and held up the beers, waiting for her to answer.  The woman was proud and he was sure she would not want company now, but the emotions were not something he could just ignore.  He waited for her to answer, wondering if she would answer.

The door swung open to reveal Irina bleary eyed, and wearing nothing more then a sports bra, and boxers. Almost all the exposed skin was covered in one tattoo, or another. Only a small burn scare on her waist, and the dermaplast was free of ink. This close Justice couldn't help, but notice a few of the tattoo's where distinctly more crude then the others. Irina blinked a few times, scowling the entire time at the man in front of her door. A quick glance at the proffered beer thought, and her frown turned into a thin line. She narrowed her eyes, and looked past the beer to Lanceheart. Irina grunted, and  grabbed a can. Leaving the door open for Justice to follow, Irina marched over to the small table that pass for her dining room. She set the can down, and picked up her uniform shirt out of a chair. After a quick sniff she tossed it in a corner where a few other articles of clothing had already collected. Sitting down Irina cracked the can open, and started chugging the beer. It didn't take her long to drain the can, and no sooner was it empty then it joined the cloths in the corner. Irina let out a small belch, and looked at Justice expectantly as she scratched her stomach.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:33, Tue 06 Aug 2013.

He followed her in, watching her drink.  When she looked at him he tossed her another can and opened one for himself.  Being from Canada, he knew how to drink a beer.  He opened the can and started to drink one himself.  “It is not like home, but it is passable.”  He said and sat on the bed in the room, setting down the beer and sitting with her.

He took another drink.  “So, you seemed the only one here, and I hate to drink alone, thanks for letting me join you.”  He said and finished the beer, opening another.

Irina caught the beer Lanceheart tossed, and gave him a small nod in thanks. She settled for a small sip this time, instead of draining the entire can the moment she opened it. "It's not bad. If you're going to do this again though you aught to bring vodka," Irina said between sips. She let that hang in the air for a few moments before she continued, "Anyway if you're looking for people to drink with the rec dec is place to be right now. I imagine The Pulse will be pretty busy in an hour, or two." She took another long swig of beer, and seemed content to leave it at that. Then she suddenly sat up a little straighter, and shot a look at Justice. "Wait how did you even know I was here?" She asked, "I should still be in medical. Don't tell me you just started knocking on doors."