Mission One: Milos System

||Thalos
||Colony
||August 2, 2387
||1203

Dahlia awoke with a gasp, to the thumping sounds of a battle raging around her. Her firsts sight was the wall of the medical tent, and her head was spinning too much to look around too quickly. When she did roll over a bit, the medical tent was a chaotic scene, with wounded groaning and people running every which way. She briefly caught sight of Max yelling something at Taylor, who was firing from the entrance. Then the CMO pushed her way past them to rush to the aid of a fallen colonist. Dahlia could see five figures approaching, ominous figures, and wanted to call out a warning but her voice did not seem to be working.

She gazed with horror as one of the colonists grabbed Lillian by the hair and jammed the barrel of his weapon into the side of her head. With a feeling in her stomach worse than when the shuttle had spun out of control to the planet, she waited for the awful second when the weapon would go off.

When it did not come, there was relief. But only for a moment. She saw Max step forward out of the tent, dropping his rifle and gesturing to Taylor to the same. . The XO was saying something, holding his hands in a placating gesture, but her ears were still ringing too much to hear what he said. The enemy soldiers were gesturing menacingly with their own rifles, and their body language told Dahlia enough about their intentions.

So she took a deep breath and rolled quietly off the cot, to slip out of a side hatch in the medical tent. Half-crawling, half running the pilot made her way back to the treeline at the edge of the outpost, and dove into some concealing foliage. Hidden, Dahlia sat, and frantically thought of what to do next.

Just get away. Get away, get away, get away. She was no good to anyone dead.

||Thalos
||Colony
||August 2, 2387
||1205

The sounds and concussions of the attack were new sensations to Max, and he froze for a moment, overanalyzing the new sensations. It took a second to shift gears from his lofty talk about non-interference to the gritty realities of surviving the next couple of minutes. But eventually something clicked, and he grabbed the rifle, crouching low by the entrance of the medical tent.

He watched Taylor spring into deadly action with something like jealousy, before the reality of battle overtook him and he was firing to cover the marine from a group across the center of the outpost. When the two closest enemies were down he called out over the roar of the fighting.

"Lucas, we've got to go! Get Lillian and-" he was cut out by a hoarse laugh behind him, and a demand that he come quietly 'or the pretty little doctor dies.' Turning, he almost reflexively dropped his rifle and raised his hands before him in what he hoped was a gesture of reason, not total surrender.

"All right, all right, let her go. She's a doctor, not a commando. I'm the one you want. I'm in charge of this mission. Lieutenant Commander Max Ritter, Executive Officer of Starbase 12." Never mind that he was breaking the cardinal rule of intel missions, revealing how important he was to the other side. In this case he knew he had to, and not for some vague career goal, but for a very realistic concern of his: Lillian. "Take me, let the doctor go."

"Yeah you wish. We got plans for you. Go get your ride and take 'em back to base," the one who seemed to be in charge said, the last directed at one of his subordinates, who quickly loped off to do his bidding.

"Where's the other one?" the leader growled, gesturing with his rifle at the medical tent. Max blinked, confused.

"Who?" he asked genuinely, wondering if they meant the leader of the other colonial forces.

"Don't play cute with me, Starfleet. Where's the red-shirted member of your little rainbow squad?" the grizzled colonial snapped, advancing menacingly.

Max frowned and turned to look over his shoulder. It was then that he saw Dahlia was gone from her cot, and hit mind automatically made him do what he did best: lie. "She's in a body bag out back!" he snapped right back, laying on some angry grief to make it believable. "Now you listen to me. We were officially neutral, here to lend aid. When the Federation learns you've attacked a relief team-" his diatribe was cut short by a phaser rifle to the stomach, and Max gasped in pain and dropped to his knees.

"Shut up or you'll be joining her," the man hissed, but even doubled over in pain Max couldn't help smiling a little. At least one might make it out. With that he was herded over to where Taylor and Lillian were being held, and a ground cruiser rumbled over towards them, more scowling colonial soldiers hanging off of it. The driver leaned out of the window and hailed their guards, asking the identity of the prisoners.

"Off-world individualists, come to sabotage our movement. Take them to the base, let Brantigan decide their fate," the squad leader replied, grinning wickedly and running his fingers through Lillian's hair one last time before the three officers were prodded towards the vehicle.

<Tag. You two can at least get us there>

||Thalos
||Base
||August 2, 2387
||1255

It was a long ride at the back of a transport to the base and it felt even longer for Taylor with the bag over his head. Normally to prevent prisoners from seeing the surrounding terrain to map out an escape root a bag over the head would do the trick. Still, with his hands bound and sight robbed from him the sensory deprivation put the marine on edge. While Taylor had never been a prisoner of war before he had been trained in advanced interrogation resistance. Probably Max as well given the colour of his shirt. Lillian? She worried him the most. That and the fact Dahila was MIA.

Taylor jolted to the side as the cruiser stopped, screeching to a halt in the middle of a courtyard. The sound of the back being lowered for the troops and prisoners to be brought out, the latter being dragged by their jacket collars. Worn tarmac hit Taylor's boots and soon daylight was granted to his eyes as the bags were removed from the Starfleet officers' heads. As soon as Taylor was able to see he turned his head to find high walls. On top of the walls were an array of weapons which Taylor guessed were for an anti-aircraft purpose.

Within the compound itself were soldiers training and equipping themselves for patrols. Every so often a shuttle or fighter pair would scream through the sky above them. It was obvious who had the material advantage in this conflict and the fact they had been taken here could have been a blessing in disguise. Taylor spotted a middle aged man escorted by mean looking guards amble towards them. It was obvious given the more formal clothing than combat armour which told Taylor that he was a figure of importance.e

The man stopped his movements to light his pipe, the smoke smelling much more sweeter than any tobacco or leaves he had ever smoked. "You disgust me." said the man slowly before puffing again. "Malcontents. Busybodies. Why must I be laboured with the presence of the Federation on my world? Why must you...interfere? Take up arms against us in a legal and just war? Who is the commanding officer? Who?!"

<tag: any>

||Thalos
||Base
||August 2, 2387
||1300


Lillian really hadn't enjoyed the ride here because she knew for a fact what some of those looks thrown her way were and she didn't like it: nothing like being a wounded woman in a place where men got their kicks through violence. What really didn't help on top of being manhandled so much was being taken some place where all she could do was focus on emotions...but then came the mind reading and that just put her in a much worse place emotionally than before. The things that she had figured out would make any girl a bit uncomfortable and when she was granted her sight again, she immediately moved and pressed her body against Taylor's, checking to see that Max was right next to her. If anyone could win a fight against one of these brutes, it was a marine and Lillian wasn't taking a single chance, even though she reached out her bound hands to find Max's.

She was feeling lost and little scared even though she was much tougher than she looked and with Dahlia MIA right now she didn't much feel like paying attention to feelings. Instead she wanted to be reassured that she was safe and that the three of them were together and Taylor and Max were safe and she couldn't do that away from them...it wasn't possible. There was so much going on and she didn't feel all that safe when then even more people came toward them and the leader was so very much against the Federation. She and the boys were going to have to appeal to them to send them back to the Starbase, which shouldn't be too hard as they hadn't actually picked sides.

That just meant that no one could make any sudden movements.

He was asking for Max and Lillian certainly wasn't about to speak up even though her body language said that maybe she was just as weak as people thought. While she could protect herself, she knew her own strength and the memory of Taylor's fist on her nose made her more thankful than ever for his strength and he was trained in this. They had both been in the war, but he knew far more about it than she did and he was more likely to survive than she and Max regardless of Max's training, unless he was going to surprise her more than he already had. He'd been protecting her and the rest of them since crashing on this planet and as long as she had Max and Taylor here and they were all staying safe, she would feel better about this...but not about the eyes on her.

Perhaps part of it was that they knew she was a Betazoid and that meant they knew she was telepathic as well as empathic and that didn't do well for anyone: she could tell when they lied. At the same time, she had felt the hands on her before and she'd read the thoughts and she didn't want to be alone with a single one of them when her painkillers were wearing off and she was less than at her peak. Hell, one right hook to her face and she had just given up a fight she could have taken more in and she knew that come one of these men she'd be using her abilities to make them kill themselves. In fact, that was still a valid option for self defense even though she knew she'd hate herself for it afterwards...perhaps it was worth it should negotiating fail...

This was all up to Max.


<Taggles: Max and then Taylor I think>

||Thalos
||Base
||August 2, 2387
||1301

Max almost forgot their precarious situation when he saw Lillian press close to Taylor. A nasty streak of jealousy arose within him, and he felt betrayed in this darkest of hours. Seething inside, he shook her hand away and stepped aside, to get a better view of the party approaching. Seeing what must be this faction's leader, an idea came to him. There were more ways to win than fighting. He had to use all his negotiating skills to get them out of this, and prove that to Lillian. So when the plump man in the formal wear demanded to know who was in charge here, Max vowed to turn the jealousy into resolve.

"I am." he called out, and stepped forward. He locked his jaw into a determined scowl, to disguise his pounding heart and forestall any trembling that might occur. "I'm Lieutenant Commander Max Ritter, Executive Officer, Starbase 12. My team is here to respond to an unidentified distress signal and render in any way we can. We are not here to participate in hostilities, only tend to the wounded and mediate a truce."

"Is that so?" the man said disinterestedly, examining a fingernail. "Then why were you found in the enemy camp, raising arms against us? Maybe they told you some sob story about how we were the big bad tyrants, trampling on their rights. Well let me tell you something," the leader said, sudden heat in his voice, as he stabbed the air with his pipe.

"Those so-called freedom fighters were fighting for nothing more than their own freedom to plot and sow discord in opposition to peace and order that this colony has been lacking for long. I am Brantigan. I was the first to see the dangers of rampant individualism and speak out. In time others joined me, willingly. Now only a few violent individualists plague this world, and you were aiding them. This in and of itself is a crime against order, but it is these uniforms you wear that are the greatest threat to me," Brantigan lectured, occasionally puffing on his pipe and releasing more clouds of the sweet smelling smoke.

"I will not allow all I have built here to be jeopardized by Federation interference. Your side's dabbling with individualism is just as dangerous, and potentially disastrous. Therefore I will need to see to it that you do not involve Starfleet in this matter until I am certain you cannot be harmful to my interests. Cooperate and things might go well for you. Resist and things will go badly," he finished, with a shrug of his shoulders to indicate that he didn't care either way.

"You won't get away with this!" Max replied angrily. "When words reaches the Federation Council that you've attacked and illegally detained Starfleet officers, you can expect immediate reprisals! Now release us and provide us with transportation off-world. If you do I will do my utmost to arrange a diplomatic rather than military solution on the part of Starfleet," he continued, already mapping out which of his connections at Starfleet HQ he would call on to see that this got resolved in a satisfactory manner.

Brantigan looked amused. "I doubt that. Besides, it is in my interest to delay another visit from Starfleet. By the time they get around to investigating your disappearance I will have complete control of the planet, and we will have erased all traces of your ever having visited. So, no, my dear, I can't afford to let you go at this point." Brantigan said with a wave of his smooth hand.

"Well then, what are you going to do with us?" Max snapped, growing frustrated.

"What am I going to do with you? Wellllll…" Brantigan stretched the word out, and ambled over to walk by and inspect the other two. He paused for a long moment to stare into Taylor's eyes, a strange look in his wily eyes as he stroked his wiry mustache. "This one I don't like." Moving on, he looked Lillian up and down slowly and licked his fleshy lips. "This one I do." Stopping his little stroll, Brantigan pondered for a moment, puffing on his pipe. Abruptly he looked up. "Bring the woman to my suites and keep her there until I am ready to speak with her. Mr. Ritter, follow me. I have something to show you." He started to walk off to the large command center, but Max started after him abruptly.

"Wait! What do you think you're doing? She's a doctor and a Starfleet officer! We all are! Now you had better release us or I can guarantee that-" Max's tirade was silenced by a blast from a phaser's stun setting and he crumpled to the ground.

"Bring him please," Brantigan said impatiently, and kept walking at leisurely pace. Two of the man's bodyguard's scooped up Max and dragged him off behind their leader while the other's closed in on the other two Starfleet officers, pulling them apart.

"What about this one?" the leader of the guards called out, gesturing to Taylor.

"Put him with the rest of the people I don't like," Brantigan replied in an airy tone, gesturing with his pipe momentarily to the far side of the compound before resuming his stroll and humming to himself.

<Tag: Ya'll. Get into some hijinks.>

||Thalos
||Cells
||August 2, 2387
||1317

"So this is where the people he doesn't like live..." muttered Taylor within the prison pen. Unlike the courtyard which had a military air to it the cells had the air of stale bodily fluids. The people within the prison block were dressed in rags and tattered clothes. At least it was within the compound itself and thus any escape plan didn't hang on him travelling for miles. He had been placed within a cell block with what looked to be forty others. They were eating a meal of thin soup and probably infected water. Still, it was a meal and he had to eat to keep his strength.

Taylor took a bowl, cup and spoon each made of cheap pot metal and sat down beside a group who instantly moved away from him. It was obvious that he was trouble and thus they wanted no part in it. He made no more than a simple grunt at their action before he started to eat his soup. Taylor figured it was little more than rodent made with water since soup tended to have more flavour and viscosity. He did his best to eat around the unidentifiable chunks as he looked around the room.

Women, men, children. Old and young alike. Some were built like soldiers while some were fragile or well rounded. Given the type of war it was Taylor doubted these were criminals or even POWs. Then there were the guards. They weren't part of the local population. Instead they were Orions; big, topless men with green skin and no hair. Some carried rifles while others carried stun-sticks.

"We have a guest in our midst." said a woman who sat down beside Taylor and took a spoonful of his soup. "You don't look like a fighter, nor a farmer, nor a scholar. You look like a uniform. Not one of theirs though but a uniform all the same."

She was young, Taylor figured just over twenty but it was obvious she wasn't shy. A quick glance around told him all he needed to know with the bigger men watching his every move. "I'm from Starfleet."

"I don't recognise that uniform." she said, meaning his tactical vest and combat trousers. "I thought they were a bit more colourful."

"I'm a marine."

"A marine?"

"A soldier." explained Taylor with patience. "I'm a soldier. Taylor Lucas, at your service. Or not as the case may be."

The girl gave a sissified 'huh' as she smiled at him. "Nera Peti. I'm curious at how a Starfleet...soldier ends up here. Most of the time it's just anyone our Glorious Leader dislikes. We've got oooh lemme see...engineers...doctors...scientists...thieves...intellectuals...resistance fighters...and now a Starfleet marine. Well Mister Marine, I do have some bad news for you. You see this prison has many destinations and none of the good. Either it's a labour camp somewhere or a firing squad. Sometimes the green men drag you away to be taken to the slave markets off in some distant system. Or a fight between you and a guard is scheduled for the Leader's...amusement. Especially when he has guests. Upper ups love a fight and with you as the new meat it doesn't take a scientist to know who's next in the ring. I hear there's a fight tonight. I hope you're ready..."

"A fight?" asked Taylor with a frown. That put a dampener on his escape plan. Not that he had one but he certainly wasn't going to make progress tussling with a prison guard. "Any hints?"

"For here? A good looking piece of man like you? Try not to drop the soap. When we get soap."

<Tag: Max>

||Thalos
||Brantigan's Estate
||August 2, 2387
||1317


Being separated from Max and Taylor put Lillian on edge--especially after being manhandled by the large guy from the colony raid. From threatening her life to tossing her over his shoulder and grabbing at her assets, Lillian felt thoroughly finished. The two men brought her to a large estate, even though it wasn't all that amazing in her opinion and yet he had slaves. In fact, a couple of women wearing little clothing came to greet her and the men, smirked, carrying her into the place.

"Another one?" the older of the two women asked shaking her head. "She doesn't look from 'round here."

"Found her with the enemy, but the boss likes the look of her--can't say I blame him...clean her up for him, will ya?" the man said as he set Lillian down tapping her posterior. "After he's done I'll take a whack at her."

Lillian laughed and shook her head. "No one will be 'taking a whack' at anything except themselves where I am concerned, I guarantee you."

He raised his hand to strike her for her insolent behaviour, but Lillian was quick to focus and suddenly there was a splitting pain in his head. She was a full blooded Betazoid and while annoyed, he smiled an evil smile that she didn't like. Her little tactic was about to get her punished and she was far from looking forward to that...far from it.

"Drug the little bitch if you have to, to make her compliant," he growled, laughing as he turned with the other man to go. "We'll see how she fights back then..."

Lillian narrowed her eyes as he went, but she followed the women into the building because the idea of getting clean was appealing. So, they took her to a bathroom and drew her a bath, getting the bindings off of hands and fetching her medicine as they looked over her leg. Lillian welcomed the hot bath as it soothed her aching muscles but she felt guilty about the special treatment when Max and Taylor were undoubtedly being treated unfairly and she needed to put a stop to it.

Still, she did as she was told and out of the bath she had fragrant oils put in her hair and was handed a dress--if you could call it that. It was a crimson red with beading and sequins, but it was a backless, sideless halter that had a beaded piece down her front that attached to the skirt. The skirt itself covered her behind and flowed to her feet, but it was a thin, easily accessible piece of material and Lillian actually felt uncomfortable, which was weird for a Betazoid.

They were considered a very provocative species and they had naked weddings, but this was very different. Lillian was being dressed up to be used and as she was led to get some painkillers a smile crossed her face. She was a doctor and there was enough here to poison the man should it come down to that and she immediately started to touch things.

"No, love," the older woman said slapping her hand away. "These aren't for you to touch."

"I'm a Federation doctor," Lillian stated firmly, reaching again, "and I will not be kept her against my will even if it means killing the fat bastard."

The woman nodded and pushed Lillian back. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that. I don't want to drug you, but I don't want any trouble either."

"Pretend all you want," Lillian said sighing, "but I will not be treated like a concubine."

"Doesn't look like you have much of a choice..."


<Taggles: Max. Feel free to fast forward time a little bit since he's stunned.>

||Thalos
||Base
||August 2, 2387
||1345

When Max awoke, slightly groggy, he found he could not move. The first thing he could tell was that he was atop a windy tower, one of several that ringed the base. Max could feel himself shackled to some kind of boxlike object, which emitted occasional clicks and beeps. From inside there was the thrum of some kind of heavy machinery. As he tested the magnetic restraints that held him in place with wrists and ankles, he was startled by Brantigan's voice form behind him.

"Ah, Mr. Ritter, you are awake. Welcome to the highest height of my fortress. From here I may survey the world I claimed and ponder the world I will make.

"Isn't it dangerous, being up here all alone and away from others? You might get dangerous individualist thoughts and do something…I don't know, crazy?" Max retorted, glaring at the man as he strolled into view with guards in tow.

Brantigan smiled amiably, but his tone held an underlying current of menace as he relit his pipe. "Choose your next witticism carefully, Mr. Ritter, for it may be your last. Now then. Interviews with prisoners taken in the same raid as captured you confirm you arrived with a woman in a red Starfleet uniform in addition to the other two. Red is of course your organization's designation for navigations and the like, so I ascertain that she was the pilot, since so such individual was found in the wreckage of your shuttle. So…care to tell me the location of your missing pilot? I would so dearly like to meet her," Brantigan said salaciously, licking his fleshy lips.

"I told you already, she died at the other camp before we could get her to treatment. That's on your hands!" Max snapped.

"Really, Mr. Ritter, you surprise me with you naivety. A simple count and check of the bodies after the attack reveals this to be a lie. No matter," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "She will be located soon enough. Not soon enough for you though, I fear." He strolled around the object Max was strapped to.

"By this I mean your interference in my affairs will end soon enough. You are currently bound to the barrel of one of this facility's automated anti-air defense batteries, a most unfortunate position to be in, given the blasts of superheated plasma that will emanate from right behind you in the event of a rebel air attack, an attack which my spies believe will occur at approximately…1500 hours," he stated calmly, after checking a data pad. "It is their mistaken belief that our AA defenses will be off line at this time thanks to the efforts of an infiltrator in my camp. Fortunately the man was detected and apprehended before he could complete his mission. Unfortunately my troops dealt with him a little too roughly, robbing me of the chance to punish him for his insolence in a creative manner," Brantigan sighed, then grinned at Max with haughty derision.

"You, however, will provide an excellent substitute. Poetic justice, almost. Your individualist lackeys will be your undoing just as you will have a front row seat for their final demise," he continued, gesturing to the sky and the ominous anti-air batteries ringing the base. "A climactic finale to this little play, ending with my complete control of this planet. I hope you have enjoyed your little part in it, even though you were powerless to do anything to alter its course. Tragic for you maybe. I will recall it fondly as adding a little additional drama to this glorious history. And with that sentiment I must bid you adieu," the man grandiosely said, finishing his pipe and returning it to his pocket.

"Brantigan, this is insane! Do you expect me to talk?" Max snarled, gritting his teeth as he tested the restraints again.

"No, Mr. Ritter, I expect you to die!" the pudgy man said jovially. "And now if you will excuse me, I must see to your female companion. Enjoy the view while you still can." With that he sauntered off in the direction of the stairs. The guards gave Max one final sneer, then followed. He was alone then.

Even though it was windy and cool up on the battery, the intel officer was sweating profusely. The clicking and beeping of the AA gun's targeting computer searching for incoming aircraft grated on his nerves, and the restraints cut into his wrists as he tried to wriggle out of them. No luck there.

Think, Max, think. There had to be a way out of this. Something he could try. Something he could do, do to save the rebels, save Lillian, save the day. Be a hero. Redeem himself in the eyes of everyone and utilize the second chance fate had given him.

But as he cast his eyes desperately around the giant weapon he was strapped to, nothing was coming to him. Damn. Well, one thing was coming to him.

He'd kill for drink.



<Tag. Have some fun before the attack>

||Thalos
||Brantigan's Suites
||August 2, 2387
||1355


Lillian felt like she had been waiting forever in this room for Brantigan to show himself and try to have at her even though she was certainly not going to let that happen to her. She had memorized the curtains and the bed sheets and her hands were shackled together but she could deal with that...all she had to do was charm the man and then get him to drink his drink and then he would be putty in her hands for an antidote that she even had time to mix. The only problem with her plan was that she was a little bit foggy because she hadn't been doing everything that she had been told and they had drugged her...it wasn't pleasant. Now her psionic abilities were weak and that meant all she could rely on was her sneakiness with this poison in the champagne like alcohol they were to drink when Brantigan arrived.

She heard shuffling, sitting up straight even though she felt practically naked in this outfit--being a Betazoid meant that she was totally okay with being naked--but she didn't want this. Lillian didn't want to have to do this and she was feeling conflicted and she didn't know what to do, but when she thought about what kinds of terrible things were happening to Max and Taylor she wanted to cry...she just couldn't, because that would make her look really weak. More than anything, Lillian wanted to assert herself as the strong young woman that she was and then she would make her way to Taylor and Max and make sure to save them if she could. The door creaked open loudly and she saw Brantigan enter, looking over at him and deciding not to smile lest he think that she was actually about to do what he wanted.

"Already on the bed?" Brantigan chuckled, nodding approvingly. "Seems you know what your purpose is to be."

Lillian rolled her eyes. "Well, you're certainly not going to let us go."

"Not you, no," Brantigan told her, giving her false hope he would rip away later.

"Not any of us," Lillian responded, able to tell if anyone was lying to her. "Your plan is for power, like all great men and I can assure you that you're not a great man, but what can I do? I'm simply a woman and you've already proved that you can treat me like a prize to be won."

Brantigan smiled because she was amusing, popping open the champagne like alcohol that he was to drink with her, pouring them both a glass and sitting next to her on the bed. For a moment Lillian felt off balance because of his girth on the mattress, but she kept her balance and reached up her shackled hands for the flute of alcohol, bringing it to her lips for a moment before she paused and watched Brantigan. She was looking at him like she didn't trust him and it made him chuckle because he knew she didn't trust him, so he drank the flute down first and she nodded and followed suit, moving when he leaned to kiss her. Lillian didn't want to be anywhere near him and despite the angry noise he made and the huff, Lillian wasn't to be just had at--she would fight this with all that she had even though she couldn't hurt him with her mind.

"If you let me, I don't have to hurt you," Brantigan said a bit testily.

Lillian smiled a little bit. "You don't care if you hurt me or not as long as you get what you want...I prefer to be a little bit drunk."

"What I want is what matters here," he told her standing up.

"More alcohol and I might be persuaded to be more accommodating," Lillian responded, holding out her flute for more.

Originally she was going to flirt her way through this, but she wanted to challenge him first and if he took it, perhaps she would flirt her way through it and just burn the outfit later and take as many showers as possible. All she had to do was get him to turn from the flute so she could put the poison in it and once that took affect she could then barter for the lives of her crewmen. Right now she had to focus on reeling him in and so she smiled a bit to catch him off guard, eying him up and down as he slowly poured her more.

While he thought there was a chance that she was actually appraising him right now for sexual purposes, she was really scanning hungrily for weak points to exploit. This man was big and perhaps stronger but Lillian could definitely best a man if she tried hard enough and right now she was determined. So she drank the alcohol in the flute before she took a couple of steps toward him and rested her hand on his belt nodding. When she motioned for him to sit he complied, but he was wary of her and she knew that.

"You aren't getting your friends out," he said with a gentle groan as she sat on his lap, straddling him, "so if you're bartering--"

"Is this not what you want?" Lillian asked him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I thought they dressed me up so you could--"

"--no woman is this hot and cold without a reason," he responded shaking his head.

Lillian smirked at him. "You've obviously never met a Betazoid, then..."

There were plenty of things that Lillian had never wanted to subject herself to and this was one of those things--but she kissed him anyway. She was here to lull him into a false sense of security, so she caressed his shoulders and trailed her hands down his torso, moving her mouth to his chin to avoid his mouth and his tongue. Pushing him down on the bed she moved to get his buckle off, which made him pause a moment and so she sat up and then smiled.

"You're hesitant...more alcohol," Lillian said nodding.

She got off of him and moved the bottle to the dresser, pouring them both more and subtly putting her mixed poison into his drink. Then she turned and handed it to him, glad to see his eyes closed as he rested on his back, aroused and at her mercy...her deadly mercy. Making a gentle cooing sound that made her sick to her stomach, Lillian smiled when he sat to take the flute, drinking after she drank hers, downing the whole glass.

"Feeling better?" Lillian purred, giggling to make him think she was fuzzy off the alcohol but she wasn't...he was and he was nodding at her. "Good, then I'll just climb back on top...shackles off? The things I can do with my hands are limited together..."

Brantigan shook his head. "No...I prefer you at my mercy."

"Let me show you my tongue thing and we'll see about that," she winked with a laugh.

Now that Brantigan liked the sound off, so Lillian climbed on top of him let her hands travel down to undo his belt. He was arching up a bit into her, but she noted the slightly more labored breathing and could feel his discomfort, weak psionic abilities or not. To make it seem like it wasn't a big deal, she just giggled and ran her fingers in shapes along his now exposed stomach.

"I'm getting your heart racing that much?" she teased as she moved her hands up to his throat--he was sweating now. "Or is that my poison at work."

Brantigan's eyes widened. "You black-eyed bitch!"

"Yes," she nodded as she squeezed his neck. "You want the antidote, you tell me where my people are. Where is Max? Where'd you toss my marine away at? If you want to live, you'll tell me."

"You'll kill me anyway," he said, "warfare."

"If you test me, I will just kill you now," Lillian threatened him shaking her head. "All this power here at your fingertips stripped away...given to someone else. Do you want your power, or do you want a Starfleet woman to take it from you? Your choice."

Brantigan let the words settle in as he felt like his insides were burning, thinking about his decision...and then he made it.


<Taggles: Taylor then maybe Lilly and Max after>

||Thalos
||Cells
||August 2, 2387
||1401

Taylor hadn't been in the cells long. Not even an our. Yet somehow he had gotten ill and the cause was a mystery to him as he lay on the dirty rag mattress, shivering profusely. The acidic taste of vomit was in his mouth after he had made a pile of liquid sickness in the corner of his cell. Nera was kneeling beside him, sponging his head with a dry rag to dab away the hold sweat. She had wrapped him up in a collection of dirty rag blankets in a bid to keep him warm. Taylor's face was deathly pale as he looked at her almost dreamily.

"I'm ill."

"Astute, aren't you?" said Nera with a smile. "Your people haven't been subjected to the influenza on our planet before. You've not been immunised. Don't worry, it's not lethal. Not to a strong body at least. How are you feeling?"

A series of violent coughs from Taylor was her answer. He could feel muscle pain that felt like they were almost on fire. "I've only been here...what...half an hour? How can I be ill already?"

"The water. It works quickly. You need clean fluids...a warm bed...good food. Sadly to say soldier, none of those things exist in these walls." she said as she dabbed the man's forehead.

"Don't suppose they go great healthcare here?" asked Taylor as he closed his eyes and gave another violent shiver again. "They have to give prisons medical treatment. We're labour, merchandise. Dead meat doesn't sell in Orion space..."

That gave Nera an idea and so she moved from Taylor's side and started banging the open bars with an empty cup. "Guard! I need a guard here!" she screamed. She continued the screaming and the banging until a stun-rod wielding Orion nightmare came strutting towards her. He tapped his stun stick against the wall as he approached with a murderous gleam in his eye.

"What is it whelp? It best be good or it's the stocks for you." he growled.

"It's the Starfleet prisoner. He's ill. He needs to be transferred to the medical ward of the base!" she pleaded with her hands outstretched.

The Orion looked between her and then Tayor before giving a sneer. "If he wanted medical attention he should have remained on his precious starship."

"He's valuable! A trained soldier! Strong and fit! If Brantigan loses out on a profit from your slave markets or a labour worker it'll be on your head!"

The Orion sighed and analysed that piece of information. It was true, to a degree. Besides how good would it look of him taking care of precious slave meat? Surely he'd get a bit of the profit for being such a good and valuable worker to the Syndicate. Perhaps even a promotion. He took how his communicator and tuned it into the central command centre of the base. "This is the cells. The Starfleet prisoner is ill and is in need of being moved to the medical centre. Get Brantigan on the line and ask him for permission if you need it."

<tag: Lillian, Max>

||Thalos
||Rooftop
||August 2, 2387
||1412


"Strapped to a weapon and thrown in the filthy cells...lovely..."

Lillian knew that banking on Brantigan's need for power would break him, but to ensure passage off this planet, she had to get the others safe and sound first. Max seemed in the worst predicament, so she headed for him first, completely unaware of Taylor's situation in the cells yet and instead focused on making sure Max wasn't blown to pieces. She was worried about him and made it to the rooftop, cursing gently because the breeze did nothing for this ridiculous get-up she was being forced to wear.

"Max!" Lillian called out as she headed for him. "Oh, Max..."

She tried the shackles first before she found that a bit pointless, sighing and then focusing. Lillian was getting less and less cloudy, needing to rely on her abilities to help her to get Max free before sheer physical force just wasn't going to cut it. It took a moment or two, but she got his restraints off and had to take a breather for a minute--these drugs really needed to get through her and fast.

"Sorry," she said lamely, "they drugged me to make me more compliant. Using my natural born talents is slightly taxing for now and we need to find Dahlia and Taylor and get off this planet ASAP. I know where Taylor is...we need to break into the prison," she explained as she cupped his face and looked him in the eye tenderly. "We're low on time, Max...I need you..."


<Taggles: Max and then Lilly and then Taylor...Dahlia if she wants to show up...>

||Thalos
||Rooftop
||August 2, 2387
||1420

Max was startled from his self-pity by Lillian's arrival. "What the-Lillian?" he asked incredulously, but was happy to be released. He paused a moment to massage his sore wrists and ankles. "Thanks, I guess," he said to Lillian, a bit ashamed that she was rescuing him and not vice versa. Lost in thought at the predicament, it took him a second to notice her new outfit. He did a double take, gaping at her with wide eyes. "Wow...what are you wearing?"

After a moment of staring, Max recalled the urgency of the situation and snapped out of it. "There's a rebel attack expected at 1500, but they won't make it if the defenses are up! We've got to disable them somehow!" He stopped to think for a moment. "Ok, there's probably a command center where we can shut down the system…huh…I just don't know how we'll get in, probably too heavily guarded. Maybe we can figure out a distraction..." he murmured, and snuck another glance at her new clothing, or lack thereof.

He let her words sink in finally. "Yeah, the Marine, right. Let's go find him, we'll need all the help we can get to break in there. Let's move!" he growled with authority, the adrenaline finally kicking in. With that Max grabbed Lillian by the arm and pulled her towards the stairs.


<Tag. Oh and Dahlia told me she'll show up at 1500 with the rebel attack>

||Thalos
||Rooftop>Cells
||August 2, 2387
||1435


Lillian knew they needed to help, so she made sure that she nodded at what Max said and then blushed. "He said he liked me...he meant he wanted me to be one of his concubines--so I poisoned him and made him tell me where you and Taylor were for the antidote, which he has yet to be given, but I want us all safe and sound first. If we're going to break into a command center then we're going to need Taylor...he's more trained in combat than any of us and the breeze on this rooftop is making me cold. He's in the prison..."

She was surprised when Max took her by the arm and made her leave the rooftop with him, both of them hurrying out and going for the jails because they needed to get this done. They needed Taylor and slipping past the first guards, they made their way to the jail cells, but there were more guards and Lillian was starting to feel a bit overwhelmed by all of the feelings that she was picking up from everyone else in this place. There was so much that needed to be done here and she took a shaky breath as she squeezed Max's hand and then closed her eyes to try and fix this.

"Focus, Lilly," Lillian told herself gently.

Right now, Lillian needed to find Taylor and so she tried to focus all of her energy on picking him out in all of the feelings that were flooding her right now. As soon as she found him, she would be able to help the others, but they were in the middle of something bigger than them and if they were going to get out of it, they needed a marine and she had to make sure that Taylor was alright. Now she knew that Max was, and she would never forgive herself if anything happened to him. Just thinking that, she was able to hone in on his feelings and it hurt her desperately that he was in distress--that much she could easily tell.

They needed a distraction and Lillian felt as though that distraction had to be her, so she took a breath. "Max, I need you to do me a favor," she said taking a deep breath. "I am going to distract the guards, I mean...look at me. What I need from you is to grab Taylor and take him out of here...please."

She stressed that before she was on the move without waiting for him to say a thing, moving towards some guards who sprung into action. Lillian was now within earshot of Taylor, who would know that they were there now, but it was up to Max to sneak over and open up the cell, as Lillian was going to prove her worth on this Away Team. So without much ceremony she flashed her best smile and moved her hair off of her shoulders to show off her skin to the guards, leaning on a wall and faking like she was lost and had no idea what it was that she needed to do. She even hiked up her skirt a little bit and waved her hand to motion Max toward Taylor discreetly, smirking a bit.

"Well hello there," Lillian said wiggling a finger, "I've always liked a man with a big gun..."


<Taggles: Max and Taylor--either works, lets just move past the guards even though Taylor is kind of down for the count>

||Thalos
||Cells
||August 2, 2387
||1437

The sound of Lillian's voice was odd to Taylor and he figured he was under a delirium. He was ill, feverish. It had to be a hallucination yet he turned his head and saw her and Max. She was dressed...beautifully. It must be just in his head. Some desire being projected before his eyes. That didn't explain what Max was doing there unless Taylor's subconscious was a little more wrecked than he figured. Groaning softly he closed his eyes and listened to the conversation.

"I'll see you're properly seen to human. First I think your comrade in the cells needs to be...euthanized. He's ill after all." said the guard as he nodded to his fellow. Another Orion grinned and primed his rifle before he opened Taylor's cell. He smartly marched over to Taylor's bed before pressing the muzzle against his head.

There was a yelp of surprise from the cell as Taylor snatched the rifle and directed it away from his head, a pulse of disruptor energy discharging in the melee. He punched the Orion as hard as he could before leaping on him, battering the green face with his fists before rolling off of the man. Taylor stumbled uneasily after picking up the rifle and ambling out of his cell. After he felt his shoulder slam against the nearby wall as his weakness began to take him, Taylor managed to raise his rifle towards the Orion talking to Lillian before shooting him in the back.

After the Orion fell down dead the marine looked at Lillian with his pale, sweat covered face. "What took you guys so long?"

<tag: Lillian, Max>

||Thalos
||Cells
||August 2, 2387
||1441


"Taylor!"

Lillian was more than a little surprised when Taylor just sprung into action like that. She had sent Max toward him to try and do a distraction and a sneak attack, but instead Taylor had surprised her yet again and she smirked at how heroic it was before she remembered he was sick. He was probably spent at this point and he looked clammy--he was in absolutely no position to storm a command base. What Taylor Lucas needed right now was medical attention and she was to him in an instant, cupping his face and feeling his forehead for a fever...and did he have a fever.

"You're burning up," she said in a worried voice, shaking her head. "You need medical attention and fast. Why don't I have a medical bag?!"

She knew that there was no way for her to treat him here and she knew it wasn't even her fault that she didn't have the medical bag, but for some reason she felt like it was all her fault and that she had to make this better and as soon as possible. Lillian looked over at Max to make sure he was still there because she was relying on him to help her to break into the command center at this point to turn the gun off and semi save the day before going back to the Starbase. With a nod in his direction to let him know she was ready to move out, she looked back and Taylor and started feeling him up--but not in a sexual way. She was searching for any signs of abuse.

"Are you alright? Did they hurt you? Are you wounded besides being sick?" Lillian asked Taylor, as her hands felt around. "I'm going to help you out of here, so just lean on me, okay? Max and I have one more stop before we leave this place for good and I get you the medical care you need. I promise I won't let anything happen to you."


<Taggles: Taylor and Max>

||Thalos
||Cells
||August 2, 2387
||1442

With a groan Taylor felt himself leaning against Lillian. The disruptor rifle clattered on the floor as it slipped from his grasp, a moan leaving his lips as he tried to steady himself up. "Oh yeah. It's been great Lieutenant. I was just at this amazing party and they were serving drinks. As you can tell I might have over done the celebrations..."

Taylor hissed as he tried to right himself yet for some reason he found himself listing side-to-side. It was obviously the sickness. A lack balance to go along with the coughing fits, cold sweat and burning muscles. Is this what being sick felt like? Taylor had been protected by 24th century medical science and thus becoming sick was a bit of a scarce occurrence. Injury? Almost always. Yet he never had to call in for sick leave. It felt like hell.

"We need to get these people out of here. Damaging their command centre or taking out their commander isn't enough. We need to get these people free and clear of this place. They've got children locked up in here for crying out loud."

<tag: Any, was a bit of a filler post>

||Thalos
||Cells
||August 2, 2387
||1444


That was what stopped her: children.

Only Marlo really knew outside of her immediate family, but Lillian's weak spot was children and hearing that there were children trapped around here made her unsteady, but she was strong and steady enough to keep Taylor balanced. They didn't really have much time to do what it was that they needed to do, but she was more than willing to help to free the children before she took the boys to go and stop anything...and it wasn't like they could just split up and everything would be just fine because they simply didn't have that kind of time. Right now she felt like she was between a rock and a hard place and she looked to Max for some kind of guidance on the situation.

"Max...we have to save these people first. Perhaps there is something in here, or people in here that can help us with the command center," Lillian suggested, helping Taylor to sit on the ground and lean on the wall before moving to a cell. "Can any of you take up arms?"

"I can," can a gruff voice of a prisoner. "I tried to rebel before I was thrown in here. I was on my way to being sent to be executed--I have something to fight for."

Lillian smiled at him and went for one of the dead guards, getting keys. "Perfect. I am going to let all of you out and those of you that can help us to fight, we need you. We'll do what we can and then I need to get a shuttle and get off of this planet."

"I think we can help you with that," a young woman said nodding. "I know a thing or two about where you can go to commandeer a shuttle."

"The Four Deities are watching over us," Lillian said thankfully as she started to let people out. "I really need some medicine too though...I can't leave him like this."

The care on her face when she looked over at Taylor was completely evident--she couldn't hide it if she tried and she didn't want to. Right now he was sick and she didn't know just how bad it was yet, but she was feeling a little bit better when she started to usher people out of the cells because she knew in her heart that she was doing the right thing. What made her light up even more was when one of the prisoners told her that there was a little hospital area in the back and she knelt down by Taylor before she left, cupping his face in her hands and looking at him with a gentle smile etched on her lips.

"I will be right back," she didn't even think when she kissed his forehead, she just needed the tactile comfort.

Just like that she was off and while she ran into one guard in the back, he was easily disposed of because at first he was distracted by her outfit and then she got into the infirmary. It was small and she felt as though it was rarely used because death was an easier way to deal with things, but she found a couple of antibiotics and common painkillers that she could use for now and assess the damage on a shuttle, that would have the medical tools and supplies that she would need. She wished that she was on the Starbase right now where she would be more reassured that she could save him, but this would have to do and she hurried back to Taylor and gave him a dosage that would at least keep him conscious and not in any pain.

"I will fix this," Lillian promised him, fingers running through his hair a moment before she helped him stand again and they moved to Max. "The medicine will kick in, in about ten minutes, but for now we usher these people toward the nearest hospital and then we take the rest of them with us."

The first man that had spoken to Lillian smiled. "We're arming ourselves as we speak--I know where the command center is and then we'll get you to a shuttle."

"I just hope that you can take back your home," Lillian told him gently. "When we get back to the Starbase I will personally lobby for Starfleet to send you help and lots of it."


<Taggles: Max and then Taylor>

||Thalos
||Cells > Command Center
||August 2, 2387
||1450 -1502

"Lillian…we don't have time for this…" Max said feebly, but did not want to protest too much in the face of the prisoners' miserable conditions. And at the discovery of prisoners that might be of use to them, he nodded in approval. He set about releasing the rest, and watched with mute acceptance as they dealt harshly with their former captors. At least they were arming themselves.

"We've got some guns. Now let's bust out of here," the lead prisoner growled, leading a band of former prisoners clutching whatever weapons were to hand.

"No," Max said quickly, and when the prisoners' looks darkened he held up a placating hand. "The main rebel force will be attacking any minute now. We've got to shut down the anti-air defenses or they'll shot down before they even see the base. I need to get into the command center." The former prisoners nodded in silent agreement, glancing at each other in quiet acknowledgment of what needed to be done. A young woman, haggard but with a look of quiet inner strength, made her way to the front of the crowd with a determined look on her face.

"I know how to get in there. They've taken me there plenty of times. I'll take care of the guards at the main entrance. Just give me a weapon." she said softly, staring at Max with a gaze as hard as durasteel. After a moment he flinched away, and without making eye contact again handed her the phase pistol he had claimed for himself. That done he held out his hand to the others, and was relieved when a rifle was given to him. Wordlessly, he gestured to the door, and the group of rebels followed their Starfleet leader in a quiet assault on the command center.

A few guards with slit throats later, they waited around the corner from the corridor leading to the command center. Max watched as the young woman made her way to the door, head hung low in a posture of submissiveness. He started to reflect on how she must have done it many times before, but his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of two quick phase blasts. Then the woman was waving frantically for them to enter the command center.

With a grin of satisfaction at a plan unfolding correctly, Max and the others started for the entrance, but he froze when there was a flash of disruptor fire. The young woman barely had time to scream for a split second, and then she vanished in a green haze of scattered molecules. His paralysis lasted only a moment, and soon he was returning fire with the rest. Then it was all a blur, his mind making his body run on instinct. Leading his motley band of former prisoners in a running battle up to the command center, Max felt no fear, no anxiety, nothing but pure exhilaration. This was what it was all about. He was saving the day. He was the hero. Nothing could stop him now.

As he crossed the threshold to enter the command center, he could hear the targeting computers shrieking alerts at the detection of incoming ships. A glance outside confirmed that all the AA defenses were swiveling towards the southeast, towards the rebel craft on approach. This is it, Max, he thought to himself frantically, tossing aside the rifle as he made his way to the console that appeared to control the fortress' defenses. Some of the other escaped prisoners were dealing mercilessly with wounded base personnel, but he had no time for such matters. With desperate urgency he called up the antiquated defense system's targeting controls, and swore as he encountered a locked access screen at the primary command functions.

For some time the only thing he saw and heard were the red flashes and negative tones that announced his inability to breach the system. Every bypass and hacking trick he knew failed, and with a wordless yell of exasperation he stepped back, angrily contemplating his own impotence at this most crucial moment.

Then it came to him. The program could not be shut down, but whoever had programmed it had forgotten to lock it down against simple function alteration. So with a few key commands he reprogrammed the defense cannons to ignore anything smaller than a Sovereign-class starship. The rebel ships were now small enough to slip through the AA net with ease, the guns' computer brains reading them on the same level as birds or other minor blips on their radar.

"It's done," Max breathed, his hands still shaking from the adrenaline. He could hear people cheer, someone was thumping him on the back, but all he could think about was the amazing sensation he had felt disarming the defenses just in the nick of time. That was what it was all about. He was living the dream, the one that fate had promised him.

Then he shook himself from his reverie, noticing the many blips on the radar that showed incoming craft. Incoming attack craft. And he was right in the middle of the fortress of their enemy, in the most valuable target: the command center. That worried him all of a sudden, especially now that he could see the motley flotilla of surface attack craft hurtling towards them with his own eyes.

"Maybe we should-" was all he managed to say before the fighters strafed the tower, and the concussion from the blasts knocked him and the others backwards against the far wall. Things went dark for a little while.

<Tag>

||Thalos
||Command Center > Shuttle
||August 2, 2387
||1504


Fighting their way into the Command Center was one thing--it was exhilarating and Max was doing a great job. In fact he was doing such a great job leading the able bodied prisoners that Lillian could stay focused on Taylor, who was just getting sicker and sicker the longer that he was without treatment. She kept him protected and near her at all times, checking on him every once in a while just to make sure that he was still conscious and then the cheering happened and Lillian realized just as Max started to panic that they were in the absolutely worst place that they could be in...and they had to get out--now. Immediately, Lillian stared to hurry people out of the building, kissing Taylor's temple and promising him she'd see him soon, letting a rather large prisoner help him out.

Max had been caught in the crossfire and she had to get to him, determined not to leave here without him and yet something happened that she didn't expect at all--she tore the ligament. As she hurried to Max, she felt the growing pain in her leg really start to weigh on, not having said a thing about it when she was helping Taylor to walk along because supporting his weight had been necessary even if it was harming her leg. Since the crash she had never been completely taken care of, opting to do the minimal and helping everyone else because she had taken an oath and she had been in this kind of pain before...she'd been through the war.

There were a lot of things about the Dominion War that Lillian didn't share with other people.

She remembered the looks in her enemies' eyes when they were dying there on the ground near her and she remembered what it felt like to be shot at...stabbed...manhandled and threatened. Lillian had learned to endure such things and she was more protective and determined as ever, still trying to be as light and happy and playful as any other Betazoid because she was alive--she had lived through such a time and that wasn't her entire life. Sure, people died on her bio bed occasionally, or she was too late to help severely wounded so she eased their suffering, but she had a good life and good people in it and she had to be optimistic or she would be destroyed.

Now, she was scared and she was sad, and all that mattered to her was Max and Taylor and yet a nearby explosion tossed her to the ground, landing on her leg wrong and feeling the tear rip through her. She let out a gentle cry as the burning and ripping sensation shook through her and shaking her head at it, she moved to Max and helped him up, taking him along with her outside. They all had to clear the Command Center, fighting when they needed as some reinforcements showed, Lillian limping over to the man with Taylor, tears in her eyes, but she could work through the pain...she had to. Too much was at stake here and she refused to lose anyone else--she wouldn't be able to handle it if she did.

"I need a shuttle," she said pointedly, reaching out to check Taylor's fever. "Please...I can't do this alone."

The man nodded and helped her to a building, pointing to it and letting her know that while it was guarded, their Command Center distraction had left it open to them. All they had to do was commandeer the shuttle and they would be home free, but Lillian was starting to feel a bit guilty because she didn't want to leave Dahlia behind...not when she knew that she was alive. Perhaps she could find a way to contact the woman, by maybe fixing Taylor's or Max's comm badge and contacting her. Before she could do that though, the man helped her to get Max and Taylor on the ship, setting them on bio beds next to each other in the very tiny infirmary area. He could tell that she was in pain, but she didn't even give him time to comment before she looked at him and smiled that charming smile of hers.

"Hey...what's your name?" Lillian asked him kindly, hand on his.

The man smiled at her. "Deagon, and thank you--you've given us some hope. This war is far from order."

"I mean it--I'll tell Starfleet Command about this," Lillian told him, leaning up and kissing his cheek. "I won't forget you or your kindness."

"And we won't forget your bravery. Go...it's only a matter of time before they realize that you weren't in the Command Center when they do the body count," Deagon said as he smiled.

"Thank you," Lillian said again before she hurried onto the shuttle and went into the cockpit. "Fuck...why did I never learn to truly pilot? First order of business is contacting Dahlia on her comm badge and give her these coordinates because if she doesn't fly us out, we're not getting out...not unless these controls are so basic a child could use them."


<Taggles: Dahlia and then My Boys>

||Thalos
||Command Center > Shuttle
||August 2, 2387
||1510

After the attack craft had strafed the compound, troop transports were now hastily disgorging ground troops, who peeled off in various directions and engaged in sporadic fire fights with fortress personnel. One smaller lander set down near the command center, but after checking inside one of the troopers in heavy armor broke away and moved carefully to the hangar. The apparent rebel soldier loomed behind Lilian, and spoke into her ear suddenly.

"Looks pretty complicated. You'll need a hotshot pilot to get an antiquated crate like this off the ground," the voice rasped through the armored helmet's vocalizer. "Lucky thing you've got one," it continued, perking up in the end as the wearer lifted the large blast helmet off and tossed it away. Dahlia shook her luxurious black hair out, and grinned at Lillian.

"Dr. Crae, I presume?" she asked happily, glad to see the others were still together and ready to depart. "See to your patients, doc, I'll take it from here." With that she seated herself in the pilot chair, and began familiarizing herself with the controls. Only once did an explosion at the far end of the base cause her to look up. Finally she began powering up the shuttle's systems and with a final roar the small craft lifted up and out of the hangar, the base and eventually the planet growing smaller and smaller on their rear sensors. Soon they had broken free of the planet's gravitational pull, and were clear for warp speed.

"Next stop, home," Dahlia called over her shoulder, and punched in the commands to send the shuttle thumping into warp. With that they were off, with only a slightly worrying vibration coming from the shuttle's outdated engines to worry them now.


<Tag. Sorry for not doing more with this, I've been sleeping on other people's couches for the past week>