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Mother Confessor:

Leaving the mess hall, the Sergeant leads the way to the day’s activities. I wonder what we will be doing this morning. We seem to be heading towards a different physical training facility on another deck. Going deeper down into the belly of the ship. I get the feeling that whatever she has planned is going to be much more intense than just exercise.

Marckus:

After paying a quick visit to the armory to fetch my pistol and armored coat, I head toward the flight deck. It should be a nice to have a small chat with my selected team on this little excursion. Better to have their trust, despite this being a mission of procuring a few items for the assault on Callisto. Even though I would like a good fight, I know there should be none to be had. Figure I should not let my guard down. Even if it is only a quick trip to a private science facility. Never know when or where the enemy will be.

The weight of my dear friend hanging from my left shoulder as I make my way to my destination. Betraying my own has made me a bit paranoid, despite the fact that it is for their own good. The truth carries more weight than any belief and is just as damning. If I were a lesser man I would have allowed the events to play out differently. Since being brought up to speed on my ‘death’, my honor will still up hold. Sometimes it takes a monster to defeat another monster. As much as this thought pains me, I happen to be that monster. As fate would have it not the worse of the two evils.

Not in it for the glory or the victory. Only for my honor and discipline. Taking a deep breath as I reflect on my role on this stage. Just because I have been raised to take life away, I have learned to grant it. Quite a hard lesson to adhere to. I have learned that the lines between revenge and justice can be blurred. This conflicts with what I was taught. Perhaps it will all make sense in the end. As for now I will follow my intuition. Being both right and wrong as I tear the system a new one.

Graxis:

“Deep scan has completed, sir”, the helmsman affirms the update to me.

“Well what have we got”, I ask him.

Taking a moment to pour over the data received,” the spaceport seems functional, but not in operation. We also picked up a very small anomalous structure on a small rock orbiting around one of the moons.”

Well at least the spaceport is still there. Odd to find that there is in fact a small facility in the system just as the Ober-Commander had mentioned.

“Identify the origin of the structure”, I order the helmsman.

“Aye, sir.”

Watching intently on the others task at hand. The both of them work diligently to produce the information. The floating map setting just forward and between them starts scaling up the moon that the Ober-Commander eluded to with the trailing sub moons. A few more moments pass as they pinpoint the exact location.

“Here, sir”, the helmsman exclaims,” orbiting Dion. Helene I believe the rock is named.”

That should please the Ober-Commander. I stare at the indicated object glowing red amongst the green of the display.

“Relay those coordinates to the hangar, addressing the Ober-Commander and crew”, I tell them.

“Aye, sir”, the relay as they send the indicated data out.

Marckus:

Upon entering the hangar, I see my hand-picked crew. The two medium armor pilots setting in open cockpits, their frames idle with heavy rifles slung across the large metal breastplates. The others standing just in front of them, the scout ship behind the group.

Crossing the expanse of the hangar, I note that the two war frames have adorned combat knives. The heavy blades magnetized to the right calf of each of the machines. It seems a nice touch in my opinion. Shows that they are indeed ready for whatever the situation calls for, despite the nature of this mission.

Coming to a halt a few meters in front of the small band of Centurian . After exchanging the formality of salutes, I begin with my directives. Before I am able to speak however, the dull roar of running fills my ears. A building of fast paced boots pounding the metal floor grows in the distance.

“Sir, I have something for you from Captain Graxis”, the approaching soldier exclaims as he makes his hasty approach.

Turning around to face the oncoming soldier as he crosses the last twenty or so meters separating him from us. He comes to an abrupt halt a meter before me.

“Sorry to bother you, sir”, he opens apologetically,” Captain thought this might be of use to your mission this morning.” He holds a small printout to me. I take it from him, locking eyes with the private as I do. Peering down upon the printout to understand the importance of the document.

Bridge to Hangar:

This is Helmsman Hinara at the request of Captain Graxis. Informing Ober-Commander and company of the location on and coordinates of designated target objective. Moon: Dion, SubMoon: Helene. Facility bearing 45 degrees latitude, 21 degrees longitude. NAV point code index 09A-F621-ZAC876-B. Happy Hunting, Helmsman Hinara out.

Looking back at the private,” relay to Captain Graxis my thanks. This is most helpful.”

“Yes, sir”, the young soldier replies respectfully saluting before departing. Turning back to the crew, I pass the printout to the main pilot.

“I trust you will have no trouble in finding the indicated target LZ”, I ask her as she observes the contents of the message.

“No, sir. It will be a walk in the park”, she proclaims proudly.

“Good”, I tell her.

Now to address the entire team. Taking a few deep breaths to gather my thoughts.

“I understand that the addition of armor for this particular assignment is over kill, but I will not take any chances in Confederation controlled space. This should be a simple task. We need to recover a science vessel and articles of clothing. It may seem beneath us all, but that is not the case. These items will be used for our next objective effectively. I have asked that miss Dlynvacko supply the articles that I intend to use as a trade for their resources. The facility itself is not under confederation control. It is a science and research facility under a private civilian contract, so there will not be any military personnel residing within. It is manned by races from the all over the universe, like a massive nerd convention if you will.”

The armor pilots and the two ship pilots laugh at the remark.

“Furthermore in addition to what we are to acquire, they may be able to find answers about what we intend to use as a bargaining chip. They may be a bit eccentric because of the nature of being isolated for long periods at a time conducting their work. Disregard the odd nature they exhibit as they are not hostile in the least. Now let’s get this show on the road”, I conclude my summery of the plan.

“Aye, sir”, the collective returns. I follow the three ladies in boarding the scout ship. The sound of the armors cockpits closing as we board. Their heavy footsteps rumbling the floor slightly as they take their positions on either side of the craft. The dull sound in the now sealed scout ship, of the war frames take hold of the railings and heavy feet magnetizing to the landing skids.

The ship is then pulled toward the outer hull of the massive battleship on a launch platform. The heavy doors separating the hulls open, leaving the outer airlock between us and the vacuum beyond it. The dull thud of the heavy doors sealing us in between the hulls comes muffled in the small ship. Just seconds before we are pulled away from the platform and the battleship, as the outer airlock releases us out into the midnight ocean. Once free from the battleship the main pilot punches in the NAV point code into the navigation computer. Her confident hands on the controls as she steers us into the Saturn System.