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PROLOGUE

,,I don't take orders from you."

It’s been at least 10 hours since last stop. 10 hours of a non stop flight will take a toll on anybody, but it’s not a mystery that invaluable supplies won’t deliver themselves. Life in Omicrons is different to that in a House space. Much different. Nearest habitable world is not conveniently orbiting just a couple of AUs away, should you ran out of food or worse, oxygen. Every resupply mission has to be planned, and scheduled, and supplies themselves have to be moved trough a disturbing, silent voids of deep space. A void where spacefarers have a tendency to go… missing. This is why the operatives, which have proven their abilities in navigating their ships and firing it’s cannons at the same time, are sometimes assigned a less glamorous tasks of escorting transports. So called ,,Herders” are not there just to keep wolves away from their sheep, but also to make sure that it’s flock does not stray away from designated path through sectors considered as safe by the Overwatch. There are places out there, where even the sturdiest of Order’s scouts will venture for no more than 10 minutes, and then, after making sure that absolutely nothing appears both on their scanners and their windshield, will slowly, attentively and carefully back up, giving away as little emissions, as possible…

- ,,Well hello there TAVIA. Would you kindly let me in? Ende.” Silence of Thabit station approach frequency has been broken by Alexander’s transmission. To his surprise, clearance was not given. Instead, he has received a very formal response by a voice unknown to him, almost making him raise his tired eyes.

-,,Thabit Approach control hailing vessel on azimuth 125 degrees, elevation 007 degrees, vector 305 degrees. Cut your engines and identify yourself. I repeat, vessel on azimuth 125 degrees, elevation 007 degrees, vector 305. Cut your engines immediately and identify yourself.”

,,What the f*ck?” Lafferentz mumbled to himself. But how strange is it really not get a response from an AI? GADS was a system, a complicated algorithm, a machine. Man made machines have tendencies to brake, and on top of that, this was all experimental. There could be many potential reasons for it’s shut down, including a simple maintenance routine. A new voice clearly suggested that the HQ might have found a solution for their staffing shortages. Something to be happy about. Her by-the-book speech would be nothing but a requirement for her position, something adopted in training.

-,,Thabit Approach, this is O’Rhu Gamma 11, sending the data now. Requesting clearance to dock with your station… Err what’s up guys n’ galls? GADS having a sick leave?” An awkward silence ensued, and then, after almost 7 minutes of waiting, a response came. This time it was a male voice, equally alien to the agent as the previous one. It’s tone was stern, almost completely devoid of emotion.

-,,O’Rhu Gamma 11, Dock number 3.”

Something about this whole situation just felt wrong for Unioner. Still, he vectored his ship as directed, lining up with the blast doors of dock number 3, then slowly maneuvering the underfueled 042D right into hangar. His gut feeling turned out to be right. As soon as the doors were sealed, and pressurization system stopped hissing, the place was stormed by a security detail. Every and each one of them armed to the teeth, aiming at landed vessel. Finally, a voice coming trough a loudspeaker could be heard.

-,, Pilot! Show us your hands!” Although Alexander had no clue about the circumstances, he perfectly understood his position. Unioner slowly opened a canopy of his fighter, and carefully raised his hands in the air. As soon as he did that, a pair of security men jumped onto him, and carelessly dragged him out of the cockpit, slamming his body into a deck, keeping his hands on his back. An unarmed, tall person in a distinctive uniform approached the scene.

-,,Give me his ID.” Said the commander, this time without a megaphone. Without any delay, the security men began their search. Agent was freed from his datapad, and naturally, of his side arm. The commander took the device from trooper, and started scrolling trough it in a hurry.

-,,Care to tell me what this is about?” Unioner asked, out of frustration.

-,,Shut the f*ck up!” Yelled one of the guards. It was the only response he was given. The commander continued reading his datapad, completely ignoring the question.

-,,Agent Alexander Lafferentz… I’m afraid your ID is invalid. Your cell has been officially disbanded.” The commander finally spoke, and gestured his men to ease. The Unioner, confused as ever, stood up, rubbing his numb hands.

-,,We’ll take care of that. Follow me into my office, agent.” Spoke the man, and gave the Alexander his device. Just as agent was about to put his first step, he heard someone making a loud whistle behind his back. As soon as he turned around, a guard carelessly threw his sidearm to him. Agent hardly caught it.

Something odd could be felt in the air as Alexander walked trough what were supposed to be corridors of his home. The sounds, the smell, the people. It all seemed… out of place. How could it be that not a single face was familiar to him? The usual hum of life support systems and lighting was now deafened by an irregular, loud rumble, that seemed coming out of every station’s deck. At least everyone he passed still seemed busy, but instead of sticking their eyes to their datapads, personnel was carring boxes, filled to the brim with cables, screens, and various instances of other equipment.

-,,Are you in charge of the paintjob?” Unioner asked.

-,,Ahh, you’re a wiseguy, huh? That mouth of yours will someday get you in trouble, agent, I can guarantee that to you.” The Commander responded, with anger clearly shaped on his face.

-,,Thabit station is undergoing a decommission. It’s assets will be repurposed to support active Order cells, and their installations.” Commander added, after he managed to calm himself down.

-,,...Decommisioned?” Said Alexander, clearly in disbelief, slowing down the pace. Could it be actually possible? He knew how much effort was being put by the nuclei just to keep this place alive. It wasn’t just a station. It was … home. It’s walls of hard, cold steel not only gave the feeling of security against the evil, that lurked somewhere out there, of which the true nature we were only beginning to grasp. They carried within them every moment of joy or sorrow of O’Rhu personnel. It reflected their very fears. A monument of their incredible courage. Everyone had to sacrifice something to live in here, and became something more in return. Would Jason really agree for it’s pearl in the crown to vanish into oblivion, just like that? What changed? All of this just in a span of few days?

-,,Yes, Agent, decomissioned. Let’s go.” Commander broke Alexander’s thoughts. Men continued their walk trough the corridor and, confirming the Alexander’s fears, stopped their journey nowhere else, but at the Jason Orack’s office. Commander grabbed the emergency handle on a glass doors and pulled the right door open with all of his strength.

-,,What’s wrong with TAVIA?” Unioner asked, pointing his finger at inactive interface right next to the doors.

-,,You mean the AI? Real nuisance. It refused our men clearance on every possible level, so our IT teams had no choice but to shut it down. Strangely, before they were able to get to it, bloody thing just terminated on itself. Was this some kind of security system of yours?” The commander responded, while trying to bust open the left door.

-,,Maybe. I don’t know. Ask the guys from zhe Science Nucleus. I’m from engineering.” Said Unioner,

-,,Any idea where they are?” Commander paused for a moment, and asked a question, looking the agent directly in his eyes.

-,,No.” Unionier mumbled, trying to hide his disappointment that what seemed to him as the only possible source of information, regarding whatever happened to his cell, was just as clueless as him.

-,,Shame, really. I hoped you would have some clues for us…” The two men entered the room. Jason’s quarters were mostly untouched, with the only difference being the Commander’s personal computer, mounted on top of what used to be Jason’s dining table. A set of wires protruded from it disorderly. The man jumped right in front of his computer, and started typing something.

-,,I apologize for the situation at the hangar bay, agent, but… well, you’ve come this far and I’m sure you are aware that extra caution is a must in our line of work." As soon as the man said this words, a notification rang on a Unioner’s datapad.

-,,I’m Bob Steward.” He continued. ,,The commander of order auxiliary unit. I’ve updated your ID, there should be no more problems. Good job on your last assignment agent. You’re dismissed. Get yourself a good night sleep, as we have a lot to do tommorow. Oh, and … welcome on board, agent.” Bob stood up and offered Alexander a hand shake.

-,,I don’t take orders from you.” Said Unioner, refusing his gesture. ,,Where’s Jason?” Agent asked the commander directly looking him into his eyes, just like he dared a few moments ago.

-,,Jason?!” The man repeated in disbelief. ,,Commander Jason Orack has been declared MIA with his ship Ratep? Rahatep? ...at least two months ago!”

-,,I’ve seen him here, in his office, just 9 days ago, so bullsh*t me.” Was the Alexander’s response.

-,,9 days a… Agent… you need help. Calm down, you clearly need some rest, maybe you would like to see a...”

-,,I won’t ask you again.” Unioner interrupted him, slowly placing a hand on his side arm.

-,,Are you threatening me? Go ahead you lunatic, just try it.” Steward responded, while reaching for something under his desk, not braking the eye contact with his speaker. The men continued to stare down at each other for a few moments, and then Alexander turned around, heading for the exit.

-,,Hey!!! Where where do you think you’re going!?” Steward shouted in attempt to stop the confused agent.

-,,I need a closure.” Alexander stopped to briefly look at his would-be commander.

-,,You want to get f*cked? You want to waste your time? Fine. But don’t you dare to think I will let you waste The Order’s resources for your bullsh*t ghost hunt!” He responded screaming and pointing his finger directly at him in a threatening tone. Alexander pulled out a datapad from his pocked, and threw in right onto Bob’s desk.

-,,That’s all you’ve ever given me.” He explained, and then proceeded to storm down the hallway. After reaching the hangar, he found out that, to his delight, the good old dusty CTE-3000 was still there. Moreover, by the reasons of providence or just by the oversight of hangar crew, the ship had still a decent amount of fuel and oxygen in it’s tanks. Without thinking much, Alexander crawled into the cockpit of his ship. Naturally, security personnel reacted immediately to his trespass, but stood down after what seemed to be a reception of radio message. Did Steward really just let him go? If so, why? It all got confirmed when Alexander obtained a launch clearance. Roar of the Falcon’s engines went silent as hangar depressurised. Blast doors opened, and the dock filled itself with MOX combustion particles as Unioner proceeded to launch into space.

The Falcon reminded Alexander of a life he once escaped from by joining the O’Rhu ranks. Ironically, it’s the life he has to face again to have any chance of learning the truth, and having all that he valued returned to him. It was the right time go go under. His goals? Find Jason. Find anyone… but for now, to finally get some rest.

One thing deeply bothered him. As he glanced on his Falcon’s MFD, he took a note of a date calculated by it’s internal system clock. It displayed 09.10.823 A.S., a date 3 months off of his estimations...

EPISODE ONE

Scene 1 - „Don't ask for whom the bell tolls...”

Keep your heart open to dreams. For as long as
there's a dream, there is hope, and as long as
there is hope, there is still a way.

Metal is buckling under the sheer force of the ionized pulse blasts. Every single one thumps the hull more and more. Crewmen fidgeting about, while trying to get everything in check. „Shields barely holding!” „Steady as she goes!” Worried faces and nervous chatter. „Your orders, Captain!” A shrieking sound as loud as the world and ear drums start bleeding. A shattering blow, and for a moment everything and everyone seems still mid-air, feet clear off the deck. A moment of clarity in a sea of chaos. A large explosion in the compartment and consoles go up in flames. Rancid smell of charred human flesh hints the dense smoke flooding the compartment, bodies laying around, blood and sparking cables...a flash of light... Confusion, convulsions, screams. „Captain?! Your orders!” The silhouette of a body laying face down near the center seat is barely visible. „Captain!” „Captain!”

„Captain!” Talfryn startles as his aid touched him on his shoulder. He raised himself from the desk and looked a bit disoriented at the crewman standing there with a datapad in his hand. „The last patrol report came in, Sir! You told me to bring it asap.” „Anything new?” asked Talfryn while reaching for the item. „Nothing new unfortunately.” Talfryn pulled himself out of the chair and moved to the window. The sight was not pretty, but at least was safe. All that metallic debris was sure to mess-up any detection attempt by any who happen to be around. And who knows, maybe in this literal pile of junk, a few hull panels could still be recoverable. „That'll be all!” The aid left the room as quietly as humanly possible, while Talfryn was still gazing out the window.

Two an a half years since Ma'at was sent undercover under strict communication policy, with orders not to contact anyone until the mission was done, and look what good that did for them. Now, even if he'd wanted to, he could not send a message two systems away. CONNECT was down and no hopes to repair it in the foreseeable future. For what is worth, Orack could have already called the mission a fail and Ma'at MIA with all hands, seeing that the ship was overdue a status update at the end of the two-years period. „Just our luck...” said Talfryn and moved away from the window. He eyed a glass and a bottle of Bretonian scotch laying around on the small coffee table on the opposite side of the room. He poured himself just a bit and sipped the amber liquid. On the table, among other papers, a file with the picture of a tall man in Order dress uniform, wearing O'Rhu insignia, stamped [DECEASED]. Two and a half years since departing Omicron Mu and a little over one year since he had been acting CO of the vessel. A vessel almost dead in space, with no communications and just a two-figher wing escort.

Talfryn took his glass and, unknowingly, ended up again near the window, so close he could feel the coldness of the reinforced glass pane. All their livelihood stood in that handful of pilots he worked around the clock in hopes of finding someone crazy enough to accept to help them out, while having the means to do so. From his position, the glass shifted the color of the outside space, from the dark red tones so specific to Bretonia, to a purple-blue, reminding him of other systems now out of reach for him and his crew. Under this new light, the room's reflection looked ethereal. Talfryn focused almost instinctively on a news article he had in hard-copy on his desk - War over Curacao.

EPISODE ONE

Scene 2 - „It was then I sentenced them to wander”

Where you come from is gone, where you thought
you were going to was never there, and where you are
is no good unless you can get away from it.
Where is there a place for you to be?
No place... Nothing outside you can give you any place...
In yourself right now is all the place you've got.

The crew was growing ever more restless by each passing day in this forsaken place, and Talfryn was well aware of it. The patrols were turning empty handed day in and day out, and each time one could see how little by little the flame of hope was dwindling ever so small. The chance to meet someone in deep space willing to give a hand with a recovery mission was slim enough, not accounting for the fact that at the sight of the Order banner, almost everyone was fleeing right of the start. Sure, reaching near the trade-lanes could have scored that much desired successful contact, but risking an overt presence so deep into hostile territory was a death sentence. Even so, there were already those that advocated for such a course of action. For the time being, Talfryn managed to calm the spirits and continued with the original plan: to try and find someone to give a hand with a much needed recovery mission. Months in by now, all that was left was still to pray and hope a strangler spacefarer would pass by one of the staging grounds the patrols we're actively scouting and, by chance, that particular individual or individuals to be willing to help out in any way possible - even a message sent in behalf of the Ma'at could have been the much needed respite. In the meantime, Ma'at was roaming the back sites of the system at minimal impulse power, not necessarily to conserve what little energy was left on board, but rather because that was the best she could do.

„How much longer do you think it will last?” asked Talfryn. „Well, at this rate of consumption, I'd give it a couple of months, tops. At that point, we have to face the cold truth and see to the better of people's lives. I hate to say this, as I do love her, but unless we get help soon, she'll be a goner.” Talfryn looked at the Chief Engineer and a slight frown could be noticed. He was not even remotely considering the prospect of abandoning Ma'at at this time, after all that she'd been through the past few years. But even so, the voice of reason was making it's way into his thoughts, especially that he had utter respect for and had come to trust deeply his Chief Engineer for some time now. The fuel cells they have been using were in a dire need of recycling and that was, unfortunately, not possible, unless the cruise drive was online. That blasted happening all that time ago that left them stranded, also set a timer for how long Ma'at were to live, unless help was found. And since then, the long meander far from curious eyes...

EPISODE ONE

Scene 3 - ,,Order commanders don’t just go missing”

-,,Lafferentz – san?” A short man, wearing something resembling more of an ornate set of armor rather than a flight suit, approached Alexander’s cabin doorstep and called him to get his attention. Something about the way he spoke his words radiated a reassuring dose of confidence, but still, this could mean nothing. Working with The Dragons in the past, the agent learned that it simply was their way to stand tall no matter what, even facing death, disaster, or true horror. Of all the options the fugitive agent had, asking these peculiar folks for help seemed like the best one. Alexander was still surprised how eager were they to grant him shelter, and a new identity. Not without a need for a few ugly favors, of course. The thing was, he wasn’t sure if, had he been in their shoes, he would believe his own story himself. Like honorable Davisu Shizumo would put it, ,,Order commanders don’t just go missing.” Same thing applies to their cells...

-,,I’ve got your results, Lafferentz – san.” Said the dragon operative, while looking at his guest.

-,,And?” Asked Alexander, whilst sitting on his bunk, still keeping his hands clasped and starring at the wall.

-,,You are clean.” The dragon responded. Hearing this, the agent turned his head towards him, and for a brief moment, he kept staring at the operative, then quickly moved his eyes down to the floor. His face expressed mild confusion.

-,,Good.” Alexander mumbled.

Was it really good though? Confusion flashed trough the agent’s mind. Him being clean meant that recent happenings were indeed real, and not creations of a possibly possessed mind. Should the latter had been true, a solution to his problems would have been quick, permanent, simple, and … relatively painless. But the former being the case meant that the only man who was ready to give him a chance for a better life was now in distress, somewhere there, deep down in places hostile to the very concept of mankind’s existence. It also meant one more thing... Those dreams. Dreams of … purple. the menacing siren’s call he heard in his sleep was indeed real. An inconceivable entity haunting Alexander’s past, the one he tried to banish from his life by pledging himself to O’Rhu, after all those years has found him, and was close, lurking for him and his allies maybe right here, somewhere in the depths of Hiryo cloud… calling for him, watching him, and patiently waiting for his mistake.

-,,Your new ship is ready, too.” The operative added after a few moments passed. A necessary gift on behalf of The Dragons after Alexander’s identity was … accidentally compromised by a passing CNS reporter. Strange encounters and occurrences seem to have plagued Alexander in the last, few short days. Just the same day he arrived at Hikone, local Dragon patrol captured a mysterious freelancer, who after his interrogation and release, admitted to have stumbled upon a wreck in one of the clouds of Sigma-13 system, which he somehow identified as an order gunship. His attempts to pillage the iron tomb of it’s valuables were supposedly stopped by what he described as a pair of rogue Order fighters. Whatever he meant. It takes no counter-intelligence training to spot an obvious trap, but both Alexander and The Blood Dragons were desperate enough to know what actually happened to their allies to risk following that peculiar lead. Whatever happens – happens. He wasn’t even sure how the Dragons imagined finding anything in that soup of a system...

-,,Thank you. Give me 20 more minutes”. Alexander responded. The man at his doorstep nodded, and walked away. The agent stood up and entered the bathroom. As he was about to pour some water from the faucet, a notification rang on his datapad. It came from YourQuotesDaily NeuralNet site. Subscription to this kind of atrocities was a running joke in the engineering nucleus. Alexander managed to completely forget about it. Curious enough, he opened the delivered sentence.

Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

-,,Good one” He whispered to himself, and proceeded to wash his face.

EPISODE ONE

Scene 4 - „Surprises come when you least expect them... that is their nature”

Nearly everyone shuffled out quickly, and the double-doors to the bridge groaned and slammed shut. Their heavy metallic thud hung in the air for a moment, reverberating off the walls of the Hamamatsu's conference room. This harsh metallic noise, fading away more quickly than Kiwami would have liked, was her only remaining friend. As soon as silence took control of the room, her captain's voice unfurled like the sails of an ancient solar ship, rattling every bone in her core.

,,Do not EVER cross me like that again. Know your place, hold your tongue, and carry out my orders, or I will see to it that the Daimyo himself oversees your execution!" boomed Captain Kumahata. Age had made no dent in the fury within the Blood Dragon who commanded one of Nakai Clan's most important cruisers. Lieutenant-Commander Kiwami, the Hamamatsu's first officer and chief navigator, had gravely erred in unleashing this fury upon herself.

After a pause to collect his ragged breath, Captain Kumahata resumed in a quieter but equally sharpened tone, ,,You have served this ship with distinction. Having a competent, passionate Dragon such as yourself at my side is a benefit to all of us. But challenging my judgment on the bridge of my ship is a step too far."

Kiwami had indeed stepped too far, and she knew it. She spoke up repeatedly, vocally, and negatively during the Hamamatsu's extensive search for any trace of the Ma'at, Sakir'har, or their escorts. Helping a gaijin such as Lafferentz was one thing... but redeploying an entire Kagutsuchi-class cruiser in search of some Order operative's ramblings? That was far beyond what she deemed reasonable. Of course she knew that Dragon Shizumo had sworn on his honor that Lafferentz was telling the truth, and of course she had reviewed the tests for alien-possession and Kempetai involvement. But the Dragons are a careful, isolated people, and stumbling blindly behind a single man through the Crow Nebula with nothing more than his sense of direction pushed the young Lieutenant-Commander nearly to her breaking point.

The Captain seemed to be finished, and he sat down slowly into his chair at the head of the conference table. A light flickered above Kiwami as she maintained the silence, unwilling to risk speaking out of turn. This emptiness persisted until it became unbearable for her, and she finally spoke, respectfully but with confidence. ,,You were right, sir. About everything. I knew it the moment we first laid eyes on that escape pod. Finding one of the Sakir'har's pods intact with that... TAVIA thing still functioning... I'm sorry for vocalizing my doubts in front of the crew." The Captain nodded. For him, that was a tremendous honor to bestow on anyone, and the lump in Kiwami's throat settled immediately. Liberated, she spoke again, ,,What does it mean for us?"

But of course Kiwami already knew the answer: more work. More worry. More furtive whispers and scrambled favors. More desperate action because the Blood Dragons could not afford to be caught off guard by some apocalypse in Order territory... ,,It means the worst. Something terrible has indeed happened to the O'Rhu, and what this means for the Order and for humanity... I dare not venture a guess. Our only hope now is that Mr. Lafferentz and our engineers can recover some data from those damaged memory banks. And that Shizumo is both willing and able to continue fulfilling his sworn, honor-bound duty to assist this gaikokujin in unraveling this mystery."

Kiwami finally dropped her gaze from that of her Captain. She inhaled deeply, casting her eyes out through the conference room's window into the deep-aquamarine murk of the Nampo Cloud. One of her captain's favorite phrases echoed through her head: ,,Surprises come when you least expect them... that is their nature."

I lived on Dread —
To Those who know
The stimulus there is
In Danger — Other impetus
Is numb — and vitalless —

As 'twere a Spur — upon the Soul —
A Fear will urge it where
To go without the spectre's aid
Were challenging Despair.

EPISODE ONE

Scene 5 - „Without the dark, we'd never see the stars”

Strange as it may seem, I still hope for the best,
even though the best, like an interesting piece of mail, so rarely arrives,
and even when it does it can be lost so easily.

While strolling along the hallways, Talfryn was clearly rejoicing at the thought of finally getting a break, a respite after all the struggles he and his crew had to endure the past couple of years. Encountering a SCEC vessel in the middle of nowhere, that agreed to supply them with the much needed spare parts to set up the communication array back into operational mode, just a few days before arriving at Skype Base; then to be greeted by the Matriarch of the Emerald Order herself and to receive so much help from the Gaians could be the streak of luck the Ma'at needed to avoid the dreadful fate of becoming nothing more than a derelict husk in the emptiness of space, and her crew mere adrift refugees waiting salvation.

Life aboard was finally taking a more normal course. The patrols took place on a more relaxed schedule, people started to feel at ease, laughter could be heard more and more often on the hallways of Ma'at. The promise of fixed engines, the now functional communication array, the ending of supply shortage, the prospect of returning home, were all positively affecting the crew. Things were finally looking better for Ma'at and her crew and that was felt at every corner onboard the Recon vessel.

Talfryn reached his quarters and went straight to his bunk. Away from prying eyes, he was still showing a worried face though. Laying down, the acting CO could not help himself thinking something might still be wrong. The communication sent to Thabit, informing HQ of their situation was still without reply, even if at this time it was surely to have arrived Omicron Mu, For the time being there was no need to pointlessly dwell on this more than already has been done. The question of fixing the engines, whether the Gaians will help them in this matter or if contacting other local parties would be required, took precedence. In worst case scenario, they would have to prolong their stay for a fortnight more, until repair crews from Thabit would arrive to Newcastle.

Looking out the porthole, he could notice the eerie reflections of light coming from the distant sun and a gut feeling made him go back to the thought of Thabit and why no answer came in yet. In the middle of nowhere, an ominously looking comet was soaring majestically, like a lit up cloud over the dusk horizon.

EPISODE ONE

Scene 6 - „...and I want it painted black!”

I've seen the world burn down, I've seen my self decay
but what should I do, when my reality fades away?
Tell me it'll be alright, tell me the morning is on its way...

Red! Black! Red! Black! Red! Black! Red! A screeching sound, sharp as a knife echoes through the hallway! Black! Red! Black! Red! Black! Red! Black!

„Captain?” „Captain?” The silhouette of a body laying face down near the center seat is barely visible. Rancid smell of charred human flesh hints the dense smoke flooding the compartment, bodies laying around, blood and sparking cables...a flash of light... Confusion, convulsions, screams „Captain?” „Captain?”

Red! Black! Red! Black! Red! Black! Red! A shattering blow, and for a moment everything and everyone seems still mid-air - a moment of clarity in a sea of chaos. A large explosion and everything goes up in red bright flames. Black! Red! Black! Red! Black! Red! Black!

The sinuous lines of a beautiful lady behind a reddish transparent drape flow beautifully and slowly into a river of churning crimson waters, gushing out the river bed everywhere, breaking the dams along their way. People and spacecrafts whirling away to the bottom. Bubbles of pure black rushing to the surface of a table cloth of red velvet, neatly ironed. A nice candlelight diner and the beautiful lady in a red dress and high heel back shoes. A rose...a black rose!

Red! Black! Red! Black! Red! Black! Red! Everyone in dress uniform! Coffins perfectly aligned. Right face! The hatch opens and everyone catches a last glimpse of their fallen comrades...Black! Red! Black! Red! Black! Red! Black!

Bubbles burst out of the reddish water in the sink, one after the other, whilst the vortex catches everything and drags it into the black abyss of empty space. People, spaceships, destinies...So much empty space. How much empty space in this Universe...a lump? Two?! Two lumps of empty pitch black space please! The sweet lady poured in some red tea for herself too and then picked up the steaming cup with a graceful move. She then went to the window. Outside, the pitch black night was coming to an end. Eerie lights were showing at the horizon and a reddish morning was creeping in slowly but surely.

The robotic sound of an alarm clock breaks the silence in Talfryn's quarters. He wakes up sweating, stands in his bed trying to bring himself back to his senses. A few moments later, squinting his eyes trying to focus the holoscreen on his desk, he noticed there was still no mail from Thabit...

EPISODE ONE

Scene 7 - ,,Hope dies last."

So I say to you,
Ask and it will be given to you;
search, and you will find;
knock, and the door will be opened for you.

-“No signal found. Cycling frequencies.” TAVIA announced, again and again, in her never changing, cold, robotic voice.

Faith – what a difficult concept. How can you explain faith to a virtual entity living inside a machine? A world where the difference between existence and non-existence is not at all blurry? It’s a common thought that faith is nothing but a reliance on superstitions, developed for compensating from the humanity’s lack of understanding on how the world around them works. Quite the opposite, actually. It’s the coping mechanism, which sprung out the very moment that understanding was gained. What was the lesson learned? That man will never fully grasp how the vast universe he was sentenced to dwell in, changes. Things just … happen. With his predatory eyes placed in a field of vision so pathetic, humans simply must believe a world exists outside of their senses. Forces big and small, known and unknown, rule their lives, with no care to whether little man acknowledge their existence, or not. Things happen, regardless of our wishes and efforts. Things also ... don’t happen, regardless of our wishes and efforts.

How did Alexander remember, after all these years, the unusual route O’Rhu pilots take to trespass the Sigma-13 system? How on earth they managed to find a single life pod in the depths of Crow Nebula, with TAVIA interface still functioning? And most importantly, what forces caused the pod to eject itself, against the will of the Sakir’har crew? Those questions may remain unanswered forever. For Alexander, however, the answer was… a sheer of good luck. And so, for hours he listened, hoping that his luck was not exhausted as of yet, and at least one fellow operative is out there, reaching out. So far, there was only silence. A hopeless silence on every channel, be it general and emergency, traffic or social…

One could think that TAVIA surely deserves a brake. So far, her help was invaluable to the party. Dragons’ technical experience with The Order technology paired with Unioner’s still valid credentials helped uncover everything about the Sakir’har that could have been uncovered from this lonely device, and her immediate fate. That is the crew manifest, bits of last aired messages, and, most importantly, a dead reckoned position of the ship itself.

Time of idleness was, however, up. Multiple patrol units reported that the ever- renegade Naval Forces operatives were finally clear of the sector. The final search would commence today. This time, without the comforting assistance of a well-equipped, and well-armed cruiser. Just two fighters – he and his new friend, Shizumo, honor bound to solve this mystery.

Fate of a crew, stuck for months aboard a gunship, suffering from catastrophic decompression, is nothing short of unimaginable horror. Whatever horrors they have faced, they were about to be uncovered...

EPISODE 1

Scene 8 - „I Cepp my Word”

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Options so manny Options
i need a Drink and then
the stars shall Guide me

Cait Sits in her Office the Feet on the Massive Wooden Desk as the starlight shines in the Room. a Glas of Rum in her hands and the hull that once was the O'Rhu|CV-Sakir'har drifting around her own axis behind her. she needs to think about what to do with this situation, as a help for a Ghostship had to get her almost in trouble the last time. it may be better to keep this a Secret from OS&C. so she can only Relay on her own resources. but Triton was more than Profitable in the Past, so she should be fine. but now what should she do. the PDA from the Sakir'har lies on the Desk and the Protocols from this Agent named Unioner are on her Pad right next to it. and then there is still this Contact to the Blood Dragons that TAVIA mentioned. she had never anything to do with them, if you Ignore the times when ther Pilots disrupt the Lanes and she gives them a Space Walk to Cool their heads. she spins around in her Cair and looks at the Ship. TAVIA rests inside it and Cait thinks on the Promise she gave her. "I help if I can so what do you need" she had Promised her, and she should be Dammed when she broke that promise. but what should she do? the Order Tech on that ship is like nothing she had ever seen before, the Computer had some Basic information about this Class of ship and that sounded pretty impressive. but also like something that would be far above her Engineering Skills. as a Born Junker she knows her way in an Engine Room but this one, this would be like if she tried to compare a Sailing with a Space ship. "what should I do with you" she asked the Ship behind the Window with her elbows on her knees bow forward to her, as if she tried to see better. to see her Motionless was a bit sad, the fate of this ship had Clearly awakened her curiosity. she took a sip of the Rum and Turned back to the Desk. as she was Going through Unioners Logs, they wher interesting and told her a bit over the one that wrote them. but it was nothing that helped her with the current situation or told her where to find him right now. she sees the PDA it looks important but the Power was out again so she decided to put that thing in her Save until she finds a way to charge its batteries, of course, she Could Contact the Order. Director Seabourne had made contact with them after the Martinique Incident, but she doesn't know who she could trust in this. so she decided to work with that what TAVIA gave her and Contact the Blood Dragons. at best they will talk to her. at worst well she hopes that they won't send a Bomber Wing to hunt her, because they see her as a Liar. but well that's the things that make Life Interesting she says to herself as the Door Opens. "Are you still brooding over the ghosts behind the window?" asks a Smiling Stephanie, "someone has to do it" answers a grinning Cait as she stands up and calls it a day. tomorrow she has a comm to Write but tonight she Enjoys the Guidance of the Stars.

EPISODE ONE

Scene 9 - „Descensus in cuniculi cavum”

I’ve been considering words that start with the letter M.
Moron. Mutiny. Murder. Mmm-malice.

Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months; invariably time passed and all that he had to show for were a piece of info from SCRA's Premiership Office, a surreal account of events delivered with implacable coldness by the Premier himself, about Thabit "being left to rot in the depths of the Wall of Seth" at the hands of the new ownership of the Commissariat, and a counter-inquiry by a damn Lieutenant playing the Secretary in the Overwatch HQ about rank and service number.....rank and service number.... "Rank and bloody service number?!?..." he burst in a thundering tone. Talfryn started to go back and forth in his cabin, measuring with his eyes the distance to the wall facing him every time, all the while muttering half-spoken words, each step more precise, more mechanical, almost absent of intention, like the automatons he read about in old novels.

The clean humming resonating in each metal strut on the ship generated a mantra-like bi-tonal white noise, a sign of good health as the Chief Engineer would jokingly say to everyone with every occasion possible. Good health, obtained so painstakingly hard after months upon months of scraping for resources and materials, scavenging the debris fields and sending search parties in all directions to get any form of help there was. The repair works done at Skye Base proven to be of very good quality, months after, the ship was ready and able to hold her own again. Gaians' support was invaluable, to say the least. Good health...

...bad health, as the ship's medic was ever more worried by Talfryn's state of mind. The weathered captain reached over the desk only to grab a small container with one of those labels inscribed with an indecipherable prescription. Took out a couple of pills and tossed them into his mouth. Talfryn made his way to the recliner situated in a corner, overlooking the porthole, sat in it and push his head backwards. A few moments passed, he looked more peaceful now, less tense, the frown on his face disappeared "We'll leave Bretonia right away...indeed, ....this is a must....yes,...Sir!..." A low pitch guttural rattling started mixing with the clean resonating mantra in the room...

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