We Need a Deathworlder!

“There’s nothing.” Chucknuq confirms after his scans, yet again, fail to pick up anything within the radius of where Simone was last seen.

“That makes no sense! She wasn’t alone for very long, and she would have fought back!” Chak reasons, still investigating the area around Simone’s abandoned armor.

“Sister… she may have left willingly.” Brom says hesitantly, but it does little to quell the burning fury that sparks in Chak’s eyes.

“Silence! You don’t know her! She wouldn’t just leave! She’s family!” the princess snaps.

“What other explanation is there? If she was taken, where could they have gone? Chucknuq’s scans would have found them if they fled on foot. We would have heard any shuttles or ships-” Brom attempts to argue, only to be interrupted by Chak’s expression shifting into a sudden realization.

“That ship… Chucknuq! That small red scout ship we saw earlier! Do you have visuals!?” she demands into her comm.

“Negative your majesty. However, I'll search for any fresh F.T.L trails.” the Captain responds promptly.

“Inform me when you find it.” Chak says before holding up the abandoned helmet to face her, she sniffs at the damp red marking and recoils at the scent of Terran blood.

“Sister…” Brom begins to say before meeting Chak’s gleaming eyes once more.

“Speak your next words with caution Brom… unless you are to provide me with information that is actually helpful in finding Simone, I’d advise remaining silent.” she says in a tone that strikes the male Cali to his core. Although, for a time, he believed his sister to be a monster, he couldn’t have imagined what that meant when they were in a proper faceoff. She was serious, wielding a hardness to her demeanor that he only recognised within himself after learning of his entire family’s slaughter. This, truly, was a different sister than the one he knew before… one with a ruthless edge.

“I… recognize that symbol… And regardless of whether the Terran was taken or left with her free will… I don’t see an outcome where she will return… Pursuing them… will lead to your demise.” he says with as much earnestness as he can muster.

“Then I’ll die.” Chak counters without hesitation, “Who took Simone.” she orders.

This takes Brom aback, surely this Terran can’t mean this much to her. The loud, arrogant, and violent deathworld species… no… truth be told, even during their brief exchanges this particular Terran made an impression on Brom. She saved him and was willing to risk certain death to give him a chance. All just because she wanted to. Perhaps… there is something to this particular deathworlder.

“I see… if I can’t dissuade you… Fine. They are known as the ‘Children of Gaia’, a growing… terrorist cult? Religion? Nation? Depends on your perspective, and their numbers have exceeded past mere ‘upstarts’. Regardless of what you classify them as, they are still insane Terrans who see themselves as their species’ ‘true potential’. They still use modern ships and weapons, but wear primitive garbs representing their people’s stone age. My soldiers and I had a run-in with them once on an old mining colony that we hoped to utilize… before we could fully establish, they came out of nowhere. Their tactics feel more like they’re hunting you rather than fighting. Especially when they release their beasts…” Brom explains.

“But what would they want with Simone?” Chak asks.

“Your Terran seems to be very capable and physically adept. A prime candidate for their ranks.”

“But… Simone doesn’t hold those sorts of beliefs…” Chak insists.

“That doesn’t seem to matter. My intelligence officers couldn’t gather much, but whatever happens to initiates after getting involved is either that they’re never seen again or are fully committed to the cause. Whatever is done to them… I can’t say. Some manner of brainwashing I expect.” Brom adds.

Chak’s hearts begin to pulse in a mixture of fear and anger. Gazing to the armor around her she nods, eyes flashing.

“Help me collect these to the shuttle. We’re leaving.” she orders as she begins to collect all she can carry.

“Finally.” Brom says in a relieved sigh, conceding to the order.

After everything, including the two Cali, is loaded up into the shuttle, a message comes through the comms.

“Hahaa! Your Majesty! I believe I have located the trail! According to the navigational computer it leads directly to uncharted space. Although we can’t dictate how far they have gone, I’ll try to triangulate a search area based on the vessel we witnessed. A scout ship such as that could not have gone too far without a refueling station or carrier vessel.” Chucknuq informs.

Brom looks to Chak with concern.

“What’s your intention with me? Don’t suppose I could request it to be delivered to my soldiers?”

“No, we are heading straight there. How many ships are at your disposal? We could use them for the search efforts.”

“As if I’d risk my scraped-together fleet in uncharted space for a single Terran.” Brom says, fully expecting another challenging headbutt from his sister.

Yet she remains still and collected. Which is somehow so much worse.

“W-what? Are you not going to attempt to convince me otherwise? Threaten me even with that pulse rifle?” he can’t help but to inquire.

“I won’t have to.” she replies plainly, “You are coming to find her with us regardless. Whether or not you want to increase your own chances of survival is completely up to you.”

-

The sealed door of the shuttle pops open to the Kwip-chap’s interior.

“Our mother’s luxury yacht?” Brom utters, amazed to see it once again.

“Surprised? This is the ship I was utilizing during our family’s slaughter.” Chak responds as she steps out into the cargo bay.

“I would have assumed you would sell it for something more… well… practical.” Brom admits, following his sister towards the front end of the vessel.

“Don’t be mistaken, the Kwip-chap has seen quite a few renovations since then. It has a bit more bite and flight now. But you should still know where everything is.” the princess explains as she starts through the walkway past the medbay and mess hall.

“So… you’re not going to lock me up somewhere…?” Brom asks, confused.

Ignoring him, Chak enters the pilot quarters seeing the rest of the crew gathered around Chucknuq in mid-discussion.

“-nywhere. That is a lot of space for a single ship to sift through, and I’m concerned if we don’t narrow down the search zone then we may be too late to help at all.” Vin poses, “Is there anything else we know?

“Perhaps if we understood-ood who we are dealing with. And why Simone was taken-en.” Seven says, their lights blinking maddeningly.

Chak approaches with purpose.

“They are a Terran movement called ‘Children of Gaia’, we suspect they kidnapped Simone to recruit her.” the princess inputs without a hint of greeting.

“That… sounds familiar…” Vin ponders deep in thought. Memory failing him, he takes to the Net and looks up the name, “Ah. Right. They were a small cult of sorts that raided a minor Terran station, their intentions were unknown but several gangs were slaughtered, if not outright missing. This was about ten standard years ago… and they’ve only started becoming an issue again in recent times when a colony politician was outed for being associated. I’ll have to do some more digging but… they seem to have a severely misguided outlook on their own species. Though I’m not quite sure how this helps narrow it down.”

“They must be taking initiates to some sort of base of operations, which must be out in uncharted space. Now… would they utilize a station or planet for such a base? Considering their namesake ‘Gaia’, I’m willing to bet it’s a planet.” Chak points out, “We focus on star systems and scour for Terran-habitable planets.”

“In other words… A Deathworlder planet.” Vin agrees, “Seven, look into the conditions of Earth and all the required parameters for us to cross reference.”

“Acknowledged.” the bot says with a nod.

“Excellent. I'll bring us into FTL immediately. Is the prince off settling himself in?” Chucknuq inquires.

Chak looks behind her to see that Brom is nowhere to be seen. She starts to step out into the walkway before the other Cali exits the medbay. She sighs before approaching him.

“Thought it would be a good idea to get scanned. You know, just in case.” the prince says as he sees his sister.

“What exactly happened down there? What were you after?” Chak asks, before shaking her head, “No wait, not here. Follow me to my quarters.”

“Would it be possible for me to get some food and water? I was locked in a small room with nothing to eat but nightmares for a while.” he says, eyeing the mess hall just across the walkway.

Feeling the impulse to deny him, Chak takes a moment to center herself.

“We can talk in the mess hall then.” she allows, before leading the way in.

She makes her way in and points to a table.

“Sit there. Our chef is busy at the moment, so you’ll have to make do with pre-made rations.” she notifies.

“Fine by me, it’s not like I’ve been consuming much else these past few years.” her brother replies before taking his seat.

Chak quickly snatches one of her personal rations and plops it down on the table in front of Brom.

“Ah, wonderful. Th-” Brom catches himself, thinking over the next few words that leave his mouth, “Thank you.”

Chak watches in silence as Brom besets the bland food as if it’s loaded with nectar. Before she even realizes, he was already half-way through the whole thing by the time he begins to slow down enough for conversation.

“What… happened? When you first learned of our family?” she asks, her bold demeanour crumbling into something much more tired and vulnerable.

Brom pauses for a moment, then slowly puts his next bite down.

“My guards got the order to slay me. They explained to me that they had the choice of doing so, or their families would die in my place. They wanted to make it quick and painless for me. I fought back, and it got ugly when the other researchers tried to defend me. Like a coward I hid away in one of the vents in the chaos. I suppose they didn’t want to bother hunting me down, so they sabotaged the power and comms before leaving me to die in the cold. I emerged after I couldn’t hear the shuttles anymore.” he entails.

“You got the power back on?” Chak assumes.

“Not… immediately… Before the temperature even started to drop, I was stuck frozen. The bodies of many of my colleagues and best friends were all around. All I could see in their expressions was judgment… they all died defending me while I scampered away in fear for myself. I must have stood in place for over a day before the cold set in, waking me up from my daze. I went to work on the generator. Thankfully, although the guards knew how to kill people well enough, they hardly tried past a few plasma shots for the machine. It only took a few reroutes before I had power and heat again. But I still had no way to communicate, as the damage there was beyond me. For um..” Brom’s voice is lost for a moment, “I tried to give my friends proper burials, but I risked my life every time I dragged one out into the snow. So I just… put the rest in a single room and dealt with the stench. For years… I survived off rations meant for a whole expedition team for a few months. But in the last year I ran out of Cali-safe rations, so I ended up getting sick a lot. Every meal was a burden… before, during and after… Sometimes I’d go without food for a time because the hunger pains were more bearable than the food-induced ones. I was barely alive when I heard shuttles coming down. It was a rebel cell of our people, searching all the places where our siblings were supposed to have been killed. They didn’t actually expect me to be alive, it was a small team hoping to dignify my remains. Oh, but they found me alright, and they immediately placed me in charge. When I questioned that… thinking how could I have the authority… that’s when I was told everything… everyone had been slain. It… It didn’t feel real… I have my salvation, only to find the heavens lit aflame…”

“I’m sorry Brom… if I had known… I would have come for you.” Chak says genuinely, locking one of her lower graspers around his. His limb tenses, but doesn't quite grip in return.

“As I recovered, I started seeing rumors of your survival. I had a lot of time in a bed to think on things. How father managed to pull all this off, and how proactive he was with your political campaigns. At the time… it all fell into place. You conspired with him, only to be betrayed as well.” he adds.

“How? Brom? Why would I do such a thing? How can you think that?” Chak presses.

“Because I still don’t understand why father did it… a power grab I know, but… he showed us nothing but love and support throughout our entire lives. If I never saw him for what he was, how can I be certain of you? Especially since your campaigning was the catalyst for it all?” Brom points out with a spark of resentment.

“All I wanted was for our family to prosper Brom, not this. All I pushed for was for our siblings to have the same rights as any citizen. To marry who they wanted to marry, be who they desired to be, go where they wished to go.” Chak insists.

“And look where they are now!” Brom snaps, eyes flashing, “That’s not all you did! You pushed for the majority of power to shift from our mother to the council! A council that our father was a part of!”

“Yes. I did. But just like you I couldn’t fathom our ‘loving’ father doing what he did. And I swear by our moons, if I had known what was to happen, I would have stopped it. But there was no indication, no warning. I bear incredible guilt, but I understand I’m not the one to blame. He is.” Chak said, squeezing her brother’s grasper.

Brom’s head sinks closer to the table.

“I wish to believe you are not like him. I want to embrace that… I do… But… I don’t know sister… How can I offer trust when I’m incapable of producing it?” he says softly.

“Then I won’t ask for trust. Regardless of where this all leads, all I ask is that we cooperate to bring justice to our family. And remove our father from power.” Chak asserts.

The prince’s eyes flick up to hers.

“And who is to replace him? By our laws and traditions it will be you. That is something I can’t abide by.” he warns.

“I never wanted power, Brom. You have a brilliant mind, think. All that I had pushed for is against traditions, and the stifling limits they hold on the royal family’s personal lives no matter how far from the throne they are. Why would I be queen, only to decrease my standing? No… if running for my life all this time has shown me anything, it’s that I belong to the stars. Despite the most horrid of circumstances that have led to it, I’ve never been happier, or more myself. Don’t get me wrong, if I could trade that for the lives of our family, I would, but that’s not the reality. If we work together, I’ll concede the throne to you. Whatever written or in-person decree you’ll need, I’ll give it freely.” Chak promises.

“That… is agreeable. But what if the council rejects that? If there’s a living female heir, they may not be happy to break traditions after Father’s utter disregard of them.” Brom asks.

“Because you are more of a traditionalist than me, they know what I would push for given that power. I suspect they are willing to bend one tradition, in order to preserve many others. Besides, even if they are adamant of only recognizing me, they are going to have to catch me first. And I have become quite proficient in running.” the princess says with a smirk.

A returning smirk briefly breaks free from Brom’s expression as well, only to fade at the next thought.

“Even after I attempted to take your life, you wish to work together?” he argues skeptically.

“You were far from the first, and far from the last. But I knew you were misguided, and that if I had the chance to sit down and talk with you… Like right now… we could… be family again.” she responds earnestly, “Or at least not be at each other’s throats when the rest of the galaxy already is.”

“I see… then… How do you intend to depose our father? None of my assassins proved effective, he has locked himself away for his own protection and we have the faintest idea of where. Even the few recovered military files we have attained are vague on the location. I see no other way than to encourage civil w-”

“No! We will not bring further death to our people for the sake of vengeance. Our family deserves justice, but not the kind that’s drenched in blood.”

“What other way is there!? We can’t force him out politically, assassinating him is a long term affair and an even longer shot of success, and no other nation is willing to sacrifice their fleets for an unprofitable war. Our civilians may not seem oppressed by the new rule, but that’s only because they know they have massive guns aimed down at them from space. My spies have found that the military is expanding at an unprecedented rate, and he’s funding allies such as the Malchite. Father isn’t just securing his place on the throne, he’s preparing for open war. And something tells me that war isn’t just against rebels, he’s planning something bigger. So we don’t have a choice but to act soon. And the act has to hit hard.” Brom says with utmost urgency.

Perturbed by this new information, Chak finds herself curious at a single point.

“Malchite?” she asks.

“They are not well known… Central Galactic has kept the whole thing quiet, but not quiet enough for the curious to start noticing. But I believe you are already acquainted… the creature that you encountered on Kamoi? I believe that was you and your Terran I saw in the Net vid as it fell to its demise.”

Chak’s eyes expand and she nods.

“I’ve never seen that species before…” she says, “What does our father gain from them?”

“Resources for building his fleets, and deathworlders to supplement his armies. The Malchite homeworld is a mostly oceanic deathworld. It’s been under quarantine ever since the native species achieved space flight some decades ago. When they were invited to discuss joining the galaxy as a fellow species of the stars… well… it ended with an entire station being sacked and destroyed along with many Central Galactic representatives. The Malchite’s beliefs are that if you are not bred to be powerful enough to fight them, then you don’t deserve to exist. Well, there’s more to it than that from a cultural standpoint, but that is what it boils down to.” Brom explains.

“Why would they agree to ally with our father then? I don’t see how they can view our kind very highly by their standards.”

“Simple, they’ve been imprisoned in their own homeworld. No one wants to defy the authority of Central Galactic to interact with them. However… that changed when our father seized control. He made some sort of agreement with them, where he smuggles batches of their people free in order to trade. Eventually… his fleet could remove the current Galactic Central forces present. Then… with the armies of the Malchite at his disposal…” Brom insinuates for Chak to come to the conclusion.

“He… No… nonono… he can’t. He wouldn’t be able to take on all of Central Galactic in open war… no matter how big his fleets are, he simply can’t compare to the rest of the galaxy.” she argues.

“That’s what I thought. However… Father could easily spin it as an act of liberation. He saves an entire species that suffered from the acts of a relative few bad actors, pressuring Central Galactic to not retaliate. If that works, he could single out any enemy he wished. Which, I can only assume, would be other deathworlders. Which in turn, would appease the Malchite. Both expanding his hold and reducing the major threats. It may take years of smaller wars, but eventually he may just rival Central Galactic itself. Do you see now sister? If we don’t quell him soon, he may pose a bigger threat than anything this galaxy has seen in millennia. The best case scenario is that he unleashes an entire population of murderous deathworlders upon the galaxy, and our people suffer an unwinnable war. I’ve been tirelessly building up whatever forces I can, seeking out any sort of advantage for the coming civil war. He must be stopped.”

Chak leans back in her seat, almost unable to fathom the grand plan of her father.

“Is that what you were looking for? A Weapon?” she asks.

“Yes… but I found something much worse. Somehow your Terran quelled it… if so, I’d be curious to see the state of it at present.” he admits.

Chak opens her mouth to scold him, but refrains. An opportunity comes to mind.

“Then it’s imperative that we work tangentially. But what if we were to appeal to Central Galactic? Warn them of our father’s plans.” she starts.

“Then we risk them declaring war on our people right then, or it will cause our father to accelerate his plans with the Malchite, using them as a gun to the head of the universe. Either option is not very fruitful for our people’s prosperity.” he reasons.

“Then we have to make sure he can’t utilize the Malchite. Without them, his plans are severely stalled if not halted completely. Correct?” Chak presses.

“Indeed…” Brom agrees tentatively.

“What if that is where we make our move? If we can defeat or at least preoccupy his ‘Liberation’ force, then our homeworld won't be at full strength. There would be no better opportunity to strike.” Chak poses.

This causes Brom to push the remaining food away and sit up at attention.

“You’re absolutely right… I’ve been so preoccupied with preventing it from happening I didn’t see that perhaps letting it happen could be the answer! But… what forces could we muster? My own fleet is comprised of recovered pirating vessels, very few up to military standards. And I don’t have the personnel to crew them more than I already have. We would need allies, or at the very least, funds to support a competent mercenary fleet.” the prince considers.

Chak leans in closer, staring at him.

“I’m willing to offer you fifty percent of my inheritance I received from our family. It won’t buy a fleet by itself, but it will give you a significant jumping off point to work with.” she says, “Or I can give you seventy five percent, if you provide what ships you have at your disposal to help find and recover Simone.”

Brom silently blinks, processing the deal in his mind.

“Seventy five? This one Deathworlder must be worth a lot to you.” he comments, unable to resist the returning skepticism.

Chak snatches his collar and tugs slightly to emphasize her seriousness.

“Simone… is my family. Not only has she kept me alive when the walls were closing around me, she is the love of my life. And I have little quarrel with bringing down the moons themselves on those who took her.” she seethed, her eyes ablaze with fury, “Now do I have your ships or not?”

Thoughts race through Brom’s mind like a dozen crisscrossing shooting stars.

“Love of your… I don’t… Sister… You… She…” his eyes close, “She’s your-? You want to contend against a Terran terrorist organisation over a Deathworlder lover? Heh… hehah… hehahaha!” he breaks into laughter, but Chak doesn’t interrupt, allowing it to play out, “Heh… alright sister… Even I must admit, it’s hard to deny that you still have your hearts… and your drive for what you want. If… you are truthful of your role in our family’s demise… and actually have no ill will towards me... I suppose… she may prove to be my family too. For seventy five percent? My ships are at your service.”

-

-Three Standard Weeks Later-

-

After finishing his horn sharpening, Brom makes his way out of the room temporarily given to him. It’s normally Chak’s, but she insisted on him using it while she used the Terran’s. He makes his way to the front of the ship where the captain loyally manned the seat, already receiving updates from other searching ships.

“Captain.” he greets, stepping up to get a look at the screens.

“Your Majesty. Four candidates have been searched while we rested, nothing as of yet. The Challan’tas is just now coming up to a planet.” Chucknuq responds.

“Understood. I’m surprised Captain, even in the worst of times I recall you always having at least a chuckle to make. I imagine the past few years on the run has been… tiring...” Brom comments.

“On the contrary, young prince. The adventure brings a spark to my soul in my old age. I still bother everyone with my grating incessant laughter, I assure you. I just find myself focused on the task at hand. Ms. Thatch is a valued member of my crew, a stellar example of not just the Chief of Security, but a dear friend.” the captain clarifies, “More time than I would’ve liked has passed, but I still fully intend to bring her home.”

“I see. Don’t take this the wrong way captain, but I’m curious; what makes this Terran so special?” the prince asks.

“Many things. Such as; she has people who deeply care about her. People she can count on, no matter what.” Chucknuq answers plainly.

“Sooo she’s… nice?” Brom asks for clarification.

“No. She’s kind. Kind to her core. She has every excuse not to be. Despite everything she’s been through, all the weight she carries, and how many scars tear her apart both inside and out… she holds on to that kindness to the very end. She can be brash, harsh, intimidating, and… not nice… but she always chooses to help people. She can’t help it, it’s who she is. Strip away the power, the burdons, the Deathworlder… and all you’ll find is that kindness. We are incredibly… lucky… to have met…” Chucknuq’s scales shift to an off-white as his voice rasps in sorrow, “I regret… that I haven’t told her that enough…” the old man breaks, flicking away a screen to lean his head forward. For a few long moments, he just cries.

Brom stands in awkward shock, seeing a once proud unbreakable Admiral… a man renowned for being a beacon of positivity and unwavering wisdom… cry for a single MIA crewmember. It’s sobering to the Cali, though he’s not quite sure what he’s sober of exactly.

“I’ll um… update Chak.” he says before leaving the man to give him space.

Wandering his way back, he notices the awoken automaton placing a food item along with many others on a table in the mess hall. Peeking in, he addresses them.

“Is that our morning meal?” he asks.

Seven’s lights all blink together.

“Negative. I am practicing a particular-lar dish for Simone. She enjoys the ‘coco-slab-pies’, so I am attempting-ing to replicate them for if we ever run out-out. She eats them very quickly-ly to the point of Dave being concerned. But when she comes back she can have as many as she-e wants. I am getting better, but still have a way to go-o. I hope she likes them.” they explain before moving back into the kitchen to make another attempt.

“They’ve never felt ‘loss’ and ‘worry’ like this before.” Vin pipes up from behind the prince, causing him to jump.

“Wha! By the stars I forget how quiet your species can be!” Brom pants, feeling his twin hearts race.

“Apologies. Just stopping by to check in on Seven. They are still young and learning emotions as they come.” the doctor explains.

“Right… So you're an Awoken expert as well as Terran?” the prince asks casually.

“Ah, no. I’m just their parent. My field of expertise is firmly Terran. But my door’s open to the rest of the crew if anyone needs to speak their mind in confidence.” Vin says with a chuckle.

“The entirety of the crew here is… I must admit quite the… the… unique sort.” Brom states, still unsure of what to make of them all.

“That is certainly true.” Vin agrees without fuss, “Seven and I have only recently joined up, and it already feels like a home. I hope to keep it that way by recovering Simone safe and sound, but as she says… ‘Hope for the best, expect the worst’.”

Feeling a bit alienated by everyone but him having this deep connection with the Terran, Brom scratches at the sides of his head.

“You’re all fiercely loyal, I’ll give you that.” he comments.

“We have no reason not to be.” Vin says with a shrug.

“Alright… give me a clinical answer. What makes this Simone so special?” he asks, reflecting on the response Chucknuq gave.

Vin looks up to the Cali quizzically.

“Well I won’t breach patient confidentiality. But… I will tell you Ms. Thatch is a simple person who has a complicated past. By ‘simple’ I don’t mean she lacks intelligence, of course. Though I must admit, she should really think some things through sometimes… She holds up the needs of others above her own to her detriment, as if she doesn’t deserve to be given much consideration. I worry about her if I’m honest, disregarding the current situation.” he explains.

“Why’s that?”

Vin shifts in thought, thinking of a way to explain it without giving too much compromising detail.

“Imagine a soft material, one that if struck becomes denser as a result. If it’s constantly struck what happens?” he poses.

“Denser? Then it would just get harder?” Brom guesses.

“Precisely. It gets harder and harder, requiring more force to be applied in the strikes. Now, Terrans have a saying; ‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger’. This has a few truthful applications but I wouldn’t quite say it’s accurate. Say that material gets incredibly dense like diamond. Now diamond is a fairly hard material, makes sense it should be impervious to the strikes correct?” Vin says, waiting for Brom to reply.

“Correct?” he answers confused.

“No. Not correct. Diamond shatters quite easily. They are brittle, a simple smack with a hammer is all you need. That’s what I fear may happen to Simone, in a sense.”

“So you’re concerned she will snap and go crazy?” Brom asks.

“No. I’m afraid she will give up on herself.” Vin finishes before stepping past the Cali into the mess hall.

Shaking off the uncomfortable feeling rising in his chest, Brom quickly makes his way back to the crew quarters and stops in front of the room his sister rested in. He knocks promptly.

“Come in.” Chak’s voice speaks out from the other side.

Opening the door Brom can see his sister sitting at the foot of the bed, fully dressed head to hoof with a high-end set of power armor.

“Going somewhere?” Brom asks as she steps in and gets a good gander at the Terran’s room. He curiously spots an algae farm of all things, a compact weight set, and random assorted garb on the floor.

“I’m getting into the routine of putting this on quickly. We could find her at any moment and I need to be ready. No matter the gravity of the planet I’ll be there.” she replies before popping her helmet off, “And don't worry, you’ll get that seventy five percent once we find her.”

“Indeed. Chucknuq said that-” Brom starts before Chak interrupts.

“I’m fully updated, I have my Lens connected to the ships comms. I see everything that comes in.” she notifies, “Not that you’re unwelcome, but I’m surprised you haven't rejoined with your soldiers.”

“Well this ship makes a better command ship than mine under the circumstances. I see your partner w-is not the most neat individual.” he deflects.

Chak turns away to look over the room.

“Oh… you know, I keep starting to clean it for her. But then I realized I want her to return to it, just as she left it. I don’t know what she’s going through right now, but I want her to come back to this room with as much familiarity as possible.” she says with a somber look.

“How… how did you two meet anyway?” Brom inquires.

“She picked me up in a bar.” Chak chuckled softly, her lower limbs touching the Terran’s old jacket on her desk. “Well, she dragged me out of a bar and then picked me up. I convinced her to join up in an alleyway pitch. Even from the very beginning she amazed me.”

“Well… I suppose she amazed me too. She definitely didn’t like me but was willing to risk everything to get me out of that facility. I owe her that much.” Brom concedes.

Chak’s eyes land within the algae farm. Noticing a single small strange worm consuming a bit of the harvest. Odd, but perhaps Simone knew about it. A secret pet maybe? A stow away? Who knows.

The princess's faded grey eyes spark to life towards her brother.

“I’m going to find her Brom. I’m going to save her. And if possible, I’m going to fucking hurt whoever took her.”