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| - Wave after wave of agile Blood Conglomerate spacecraft, Hex Fighters, raced towards Graves and his ST-1 Star Guard. Four ST-1 Star Guard's emerged from Duty's hangar to provide support, but it wasn't much use, Graves and his comrades were vastly outnumbered. “On your six, Graves,” a voice crackled through the comms. Graves maneuvered his Star Guard upward in an effort to keep the Hex Fighter from turning him to dust. One of the other Star Guards followed, trying to shoot the Fighter on Grave's six. The pilot missed with every shot, but the Hex was busy dodging and therefore not able to fire upon Graves. Graves took the opportunity to veer off towards Duty in the hopes that its lasers would shoot down his pursuer. Duty was in view, but only for a few seconds. A ball of fire replaced Duty, multiple Hexes flew right through the flames toward Graves, firing. I've failed. If only I was more skilled, I was so sure... The first volley of shots took out the Star Guard that was providing Graves back-up, the second and third hit Graves' Star Guard, a ball of fire and debris replaced what had once been a proud pilot and his ship. Gordo Sansax and Samuel Zechu stood outside the flight simulation room, both of them stared in at Graves through the view-port. “The guy's been here for three months and he already has the second highest score in the simulator, I can't believe it.” “I'm not too surprised, Gordo. He always comes here after his tasks are finished and practices for hours, he's dedicated.” “Almost too dedicated.” “How you mean?” “What's his angle, Samuel? The guy has amnesia, he doesn't remember squat and he's busting his hump in an effort to accomplish what? There is something off about him, I think he's a bloody spy.” “It is odd, but at the same time its not. He has no accomplishments that he knows of and he lacks any knowledge about his life, I think that Graves has no sense of self worth. He wants to be able to be proud of himself, he wants to be able to value himself. He came with us, because he wants to build a life.” “That could be true, but even so... I am not taking my eyes off him, there is something wrong about him, I can feel it in my gut.” Light and only light was visible, a bright light. A couple of grunts escaped Hemlin Bright's throat as he righted himself. Bright heard a gasp as his eyes attempted to adjust, the gasp was followed by its owners voice, a female one. “Hemlin! Thank the Force! You've been comatose for the last three months, I was so worried that you were never going to wake up.” Hemlin let out a sigh of relief, “Sila Holomander”. He felt arms wrap around him and a chin rest on his shoulder, “You remember, I was so worried that you were going to die, like Jax”. Die. Die like Jax. Hemlin's eyes finally adjusted allowing him to take in the sight of Sila's brown hair. “Of course, I remember.” Sila ended the hug and pulled away from Hemlin, the two observed each others gaze. “Are you able to remember everything?” “Everything. Where is Cheots?” Hemlin began to rise, as he did so, Sila attempted to push him back down onto the bed, but his strength had fully recovered. He exerted enough force to overcome her's and ended up standing. “Rest, please. At the very least sit back down, you just woke up!” “I cannot. Where is Lucim?” “Please, sit down. I will bring him to you. You are in no condition to be walking, you still have to go through therapy.” Hemlin staggered on his first step, but adjusted his weight so that he wouldn't fall. He looked down at his feet to be sure that he was able to maintain his balance with each step, that's when he noticed that his right arm was completely mechanical. The duel replayed through Hemlin's mind and he felt the right side of his face, his right eye was cybernetic too. Hemlin grabbed Sila by the shoulders and pulled her close to him. Sila's heart began to beat faster. After all this time he had finally noticed her, happiness coursed through her. He quickly reached underneath Sila's cloak and retrieved her lightsaber. With a push, Bright created distance between them, he pointed Sila's lightsaber at her and activated it. Blue light illuminated the Medical Bay, Sila's feelings of happiness were replaced by confusion. Bright opened his mouth to speak, the words and their tone were noticeably dark “I'll only ask you once more. Where is Cheots?” Sila's confusion was replaced by feelings of dread. A cross shaped space station, Aila, came into view. A half dozen Instigator-class Star Specter's stood by on guard should anyone unruly attempt to approach the Blood Conglomerate's most infamous prison space station. Krant Eisman lowered his gaze from the viewport back down to his datapad, double-checking the pass-phrase, one wrong word and he and his ship would be reduced to space dust. The Captain steeled himself and thumbed the communications switch. “This is Captain Eisman of the Instigator-class Star Specter, Wraith. Wraith is currently acting in a Prisoner Transport role under Master Blood's orders. I am requesting permission to dock and unload the prisoners, so that Wraith's role as a Prisoner Transport may come to an end.” A moment of silence passed before a response came. “Aila control to Wraith, it is crucial that your response is correct. What is the pass-phrase? You've sixty seconds to respond or a worst case scenario shall be assumed.” Laun Blood and Saun Blood, son and daughter of Darro Blood, ascended the bridge and stood next to Krant Eisman much to Eisman's dismay. The Captain gulped and read off the pass-phrase “Today is not the end, rather it is a new beginning.” Unwelcome silence followed. Wraith was close enough to Aila that Eisman could see that the space station had turrets, the turrets slowly rotated in Wraith's direction. “Aila control to Wraith, it is with regret that I must inform you that the pass-phrase is a day out-of-date. Prepare for termination.” Shit. “All hands, man your battlestations. We aren't going down without a-” Laun Blood verbally cut off Eisman, “That isn't necessary, Captain.” Laun stood gazing out the viewport at Aila, Eisman came to the realization that the communication's channel was still open when he heard screaming and crying from the other end. “There's so much blood! Make it stop!” cried an unrecognizable voice on the other end. Laun Blood leaned in close to the communication's system and spoke, “This is Laun Blood and that is our pass-phrase.” The crying and screaming continued on the other end, the unrecognizable voice was barely able to force out a response, “P-Pass-phrase accepted.”
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![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)