"Ooh, he's comin' for me." Starla saw the fighter taking a wide swing, to come around on her for an angle.

Originally, the Exeralune had been planned for two gunners. Two main turrets and some smaller batteries for point defense and attacker harassment. Without a second gunner, Starla could only manage the batteries and one turret at a time.

Now, each turret needed a hole to shoot through the shielding. They were coming at turret one, which she was set to take advantage of. With the lack of a second gunner, leaving the second turret unused, she could hotswap to mix throw them off. She'd rather have a second gunner, but this was the next best. With the first turret becoming unused, its shields could be raised again.

So she hopped seats, setting the first weapons interface to a timer before jumping out of her seat and to the other side of the weapon room. You could go and manually fire the turrets, but that would mean you were at the turret. A dangerous place to be in a firefight. Granted, the manual controls were way more satisfying and she always felt like she could aim better there (and if anything went wrong with her weapon, she could try and fix it immediately), but it was dangerous.

She'd hop into the new seat and the other turret would power down as she began firing from the other. It was the same guy that dodged her shot, before. She shouldn't take a chance, her clearest shot was for his weapons. And so, bright laser-fire lanced out from the second turret, toward the passing fighter's weapons.

"Yes! I'm Scree!"

Whatever excitement the Anarti may have had dissipated when suddenly he was assaulted by yet another creature, being dragged onto a seat with no chance for resistance. Normally he would have been fascinated by the absolute strangeness of the thing, as it consistently did a seemingly impossible balancing act by moving around on two legs, rather looking like someone had started creating this species then forgot to add the second leg section. However he didn't really have much time for thinking and wondering, as it set upon his face with a damp cloth.

"Ow. Ow ow!!! What in the hive are you doing! OW!!!"

The sound of almost angry clicking eminated from his mandibles as Scree verbally, if not physically, protested as the clear sticky liquid was wiped away easily. Eventually the wiping stopped, leaving the new creature to setup whatever the next step in its strange ritual was, giving Scree a little time to keep attempting to communicate. He fished quickly through his satchel, riffing through the papers until he came upon what he was looking for: A map of what he thought was the local area, drawn by yours truely.

"Scree started here. With other Anarti here at the camp. Scree traveled along this path until I reached... this."

He held the map out with one forceps, using the other to poke the paper and show his path

"Scree needs to go back. To other Anarti. To get anyone who knows more about language theory than I do..."

For the first time since he'd arrived a little discouragement seeped through his persona, head and antennae drooping a little. And then he spotted something... queer. This room like all the rest held a variety of interesting and flashy items, a million questions about what they did and what they were never asked. But there was something he did recognize. A window. A long rounded viewport showing the night time sky and its thousand stars. Each one untwinkling, as if they were painted onto a cave wall. Scree got up slowly, making his way over, peering out the window, for the first time feeling fear.

He'd expected to see trees, to see possibly the mountains of the north. But instead there was nothing more than the inky void of space and its thousand jeweled stars. Scree turned to the others, concern and worry entering his voice for the first time, pointing frantically at the window and the map.

"Where am i?!"

Niesha looked up at Mana, but returned her attention to Scree in a few seconds. He seemed quite distressed, but whether that was because of her treatment, she didn't know. As she continued doing what she was doing, Scree seemed intent on communicating.

The map seemed clumsily drawn, but Scree seemed intent on showing it, and on where he had obviously been. She glanced at the map, and the followed Scree's gaze to the window. He seemed to become more distressed, and obviously didn't realize he was on the ship.

"Hey, hey. Scree. It's okay. O-Kay. I'm Niesha" she pointed to herself "Niesha. You're on a ship. Flying" no matter how foolish it made her feel, she flapped her arms in the universal movement of flying. She continued to try and ease whatever pain Scree might be in, but it didn't appear his injuries were serious

Lechstor pulled the trigger of his primary weapons, only for them to explode against the shield covering the turret, weakening it but not getting through. That turret was no longer firing? Did the gunner decide to run in the face of him or...

The incoming bokite forced him swerve to the right anyways, getting on his tail with some nimble maneuvers, and at this point the second turret began to fire upon him while he was distracted, narrowly missing him over his left shoulder. He flinched as it passed by his window. With the way things were going he had little chance of getting off any good shots at anyone, as his ship was too slow to get the guy off of him, especially with the turret harassing him. It took all of his skill just to avoid taking enough damage to penetrate his shields.

An explosion lit up his cockpit off to his right as a second bokite was obliterated by the sergeant. That left three operational on his side versus the remaining two bokites. This battle was clearly going to end in his favor despite their best efforts.

********************

Mana looked over the map. It was familiar...those landmarks...it was near where their ship had landed! Yes, she had a very good memory and was almost sure that this was the case.

"Yes. We'll take you too it first chance we get!" She said, trying to show her optimism after Niesha contributed her two cents. With a tentacle she pointed at where their ship had been and then raised it off of the map, making a rocket sound and then pointing out the view screen that Scree was looking out of. "Space."

The ship jerked a bit as shots fired into the shield, but from here at least it felt like they were holding up. She hoped that it would continue to do so or else none of them would be getting home.

********************

"We're under deadly counterattack! A large bug and group of lizards are leading the way!" An aquatic looking female announced as she slithered back into a hallway on four octopus-like legs.

"So they do have some competent men on board. We should be more careful from now on," a thick red skinned being with large clawed hands, their commander, ordered in a gruff voice. "Large targets are easy targets," he continued, nodding his head towards two people carrying heavy looking Elzion cannons. One of you take the bug, the other work on the lizards. I want a squad protecting each with covering fire while the rest spread out and keep anyone else from interfering. Once we eliminate the largest threats we can continue to the bridge."

"Yes sir!"

The men and women comprised of the rest of the boarding party set into motion.

"Dammit!" Her opportunity for a shot on the guy had passed, and now they were down one fighter against their three. "This guy's too good in such a heavy thing..." She huffed and took a moment to think about it. She moved on from their ace pilot, deciding it would be better to save him for last and deal with the rest of the enemy fighters. It would be much easier to deal with him with two bokites to help her, if she could save both of them.

Speaking of the bokites, their shields were a little useless here, weren't they? Those heavy fighters, on the other hand, posed a huge problem with their powerful generators. She clicked on her comms, taking a serious tone. "Fighter squadron, be advised. Primary turrets are switching to Ion Disruptors." The third and final of the ship's turret weapons, it rounded out her weapon selection. The Elzion Vulcan, for all-around, general offensive capability. The Plasma Beam Cannon, for unshielded or wounded targets. And then, for this kind of situation, she had an ace, to level the playing field.

The Ion Disruptor fires from an exposed coil, situated in something like a satellite dish. The coil charges ions to release ion streams, directed by the dish. These streams seek out objects in empty space, as the ions seek matter. Though the initial range is limited, the ions jump from one object to the next, until no more objects are available to jump between. This weapon deals damage to shields, and could disrupt systems.

Once the weapon has warmed up, she lets loose readily. Even if she hit their own fighters, it played in their favor. The bokite's shields were just not up to par in this fight, but now neither fighters' shields would matter much.

Another distant explosion rocked the entire ship. Frank, lazily leaned back in his cell, plucking at the buttons of his antique Hawaiian tourist shirt, had his legs crossed and placed across his bed. His head was rested up against the wall of his bright and utilitarian prison. He raised it and pressed it quickly against the hard wall, thunking his stone skull against it. He did it again, once more. Someone else would probably have a concussion by now. Like that idiot fleshy guard standing outside his cozy abode. Frank had been watching the guy for the last two days, looking at his mannerisms, his bad habits, his patrols, his favorite flavor of coffee and other insignificant things like that.

There was four ways he could pull of escaping this place, and his odds got better and better every time this ship's shields took a pot shot from whoever was attacking it. But, like Frank never said, better safe than sorry. All this planning was going to make his dramatic escape all the more flawless.

The first step was to trick this guard.

"Oh no!" Frank screamed. The guard foolishly dashed in to help. Frank ripped his head off and started playing hackey sack.

Yeah, somethin' like that.

Then, Frank would find his favorite gun.

They had four guards protecting his classic hand cannon, probably because they knew he was so dangerous. But it didn't matter for the clever wits of Yorkow Tingada!

Yorkow Tingada being his real name. But they didn't know that. Frank had been off the proverbial radar for years.

Frank descended from the ceiling above, crashing his rock weight onto a guard. He dashed to another one and broke his neck with a wicked nasty upper cut. As bullets rained in, he picked the electronic lock in two seconds flat, grabbed his handcannon and nailed the two guards in between the eyes. They went down like potato sacks.

This plan is getting better and better by the second.

Using his quick wits, Frank locates a map of the entire ship. Bingo. Taking a secret airduct short cut, he drops down into the hanger. The captain's ship is there. The ultimate insult. Frank breaks in and hops into the cockpit. Warning signs blare, an intruder has been detected! Doesn't matter. Using his expert hacking skills, he deactivates the security alarm.

There's just no stopping me, is there?

He takes off, activates the cosmodrive and just happens to do the Perfect Dive, travelling instantaneously to his hideout.
Oh yeah, and the ship explodes, too.

Well, that settles that. A few more minutes of carefully combing over his excellent plan, and Frank would be on his way to freedom.
Frank went back to messing with the buttons on his Hawaiian shirt.

[*cough*]

Scree stared as the others started to act... strange, flapping their wings and making strange sounds. What the heck was happening here? Were they angry? Some kind of ritual? The Anarti didn't even consider the concept of the giant structure he was in being capable of flight. Just lift was theoretical at best, the sheer amount of energy required surely impossible to even comprehend. A bright explosion briefly flicker out the window as unknown to him a ship exploded, causing Scree to jump back momentarily as the strange creature continued prodding around on his face.

The Anarti did feel a little better, the bleeding having stopped long ago, the cracks in his exoskeleton having fused together at an impressive rate. He looked around himself with more renewed curiosity, aware of his inability to really affect the situation, so simply intent to watch for now. Vials of liquids and strange machines stood around him, leaving him to wonder what this place was used for "Hospital? Some kind of place for them to study him?". He mostly was speaking to himself at this point, having given up for the moment in trying to communicate. Presumably at some point he'd end up meeting someone who could attempt to communicate, and until then he was perfectly happy simply allowing these strange figures to do what they wanted. Well, that was the case, until the sound of footsteps approached, and everything got a little less comfortable.

"I-I'm hit! Shields offline!" One of the pilots shouted as the ion shot hit it's mark, traveling between two of them as well as the bokites who were caught in the attack but bravely continuing the chase, now able to do heavy damage to their unshielded enemies. The UNT forces now had the advantage in the space battle, although the enemy command ship was closing in to engage the Exeralune directly to help set fate against them once again.

Meanwhile, things were heating up in the Exeralune bridge.

"Hold them off with the Exy!" The captain said with a dramatic wave of his hand. "How's the progress on finding what's keeping us from diving away?"

"We've narrowed down the location of the devices. Almost ready to move on their location!" Someone in the bridge answered. "They are indeed messing with the cosmowaves around this area."

Sounds of a struggle rang out behind them...inside the ship rather than out in space like before. The enemy was making good progress so quickly. What little security forces on the bridge gave each other nervous glances and raised their weapons, preparing for the invaders to burst through the door at any moment. Security cameras showed them making their way through various locations on the ship. Most were heading their way, but some were making it as far as the brig and the medical bay.

Mana and Uran were not oblivious to this fact. They gave up trying to communicate with their new friend as the sound of approaching forces caught their attention instead. The door raised open and a purple skinned bald alien woman stepped inside, wielding what appeared to be a shotgun. Mana grasped onto one of Scree's legs and Niesha's arm with her tentacles to try and pull them to safety behind a storage device. Hopefully they'd get a move on using their own initiative or else she'd have trouble doing this.

Uran let out a snarl and raised his own weapon as he jumped out of the way of a blast of energy, exploding into the ground near his hoofed feet. He would have trouble fending her off as well as additional intruders that they feared were right behind her. Mana wondered how she could help before things got out of hand. She didn't want to place any burden on the other two in the room.

Frank stood to his feet and looked out of his cell. The nervous human guard was standing there, anxiously pacing back and forth, flinching at every distant explosion.

"Wouldn't you rather be anywhere else?" Frank spoke suddenly.

"Huh?" The guard reeled and raised his assault rifle at Frank.

"How loyal are you really to these UNT chumps?"

"Very loyal! You can't trick me, Mr.Frank!"

"Please, Mr. Frank was my father. Call me prisoner scum."

The guard looked confused by this.

"Listen, buddy, I'm not doin' a death sentence here. I'm just goin' to prison for a few years. You wouldn't let a handsome, charming, friendly guy like me get blown to smithereens, would you? I didn't even do anything that bad!"

"We're going to win the battle, sir. I have faith in high command."

"You religious?"

"What?"

"Are you religious?"

"No, I guess not."

Frank nodded, and contemplated that statement. He paced his cell, "hmm"ing and "ooh"ing.

"Why? Does it matter?" The guard approached the cell, standing right outside his cell.

Frank shook his head, but continued to "hmm" and "ooh".

"If you have so much faith in high command, why are you directly violating code?"

"W-what?"

"Well, conversing with a prisoner over personal topics for one thing. You didn't even call me by my ID code. How am I supposed to feel helpless and oppressed if we're buddies?"

Frank approached the cell door, looking through the blue shield and the steel bars at the guard.

"And, the most egregious violation of them all..." He paused dramatically, looking to the ceiling.

The guard didn't say anything, shell shocked. Frank had to admit, this was too easy. This was downright shameful. Embarrassing, even. But, he had to escape somehow.

"Standin' right up against the cell door, dumbass."

Frank plunged his stone-arm through the energy shield, feeling the electricity pound against his skin. He grabbed the guard by the collar and violently pulled him towards the steel bars, slamming his forehead against the sturdy rods. The guard flopped the floor, unconscious.

Frank pulled his arm back from the energy shield, cursing at his singed arm. Still, it's a good thing he wasn't all soft and meaty. That would have cooked his limb right off. Bracing himself, he put his arm through the shield again, grabbing the guards ID. He swiped it up against the pad right next to his cell, and the shield went away. He breathed a small sigh of relief.

The ripped the steel bars just wide enough to get through. It was exhausting, but he finally squeezed through and popped into the hallway. The guard was still knocked out on the ground. Frank pocketed his ID, grabbed his rifle, he communications device, and pushed him through the hole he made in the bars. He re-activated the shield.

The guard began to stir on the ground. He'd been out for about thirty seconds, quite a long time for a concussion like that. Frank'd feel bad for the guy if he didn't SO deserve it. Frank reckoned he was so poorly guarded because the apparently ship-threatening battle, and how fairly low priority Frank's containment was. He was just a fat rock smuggler, after all.

Frank took his big-strided walk down the hallway and into the fray.

The attempt to communicate with Scree seemed to fail, and she gave a sigh, continuing about making sure that he was otherwise okay, curious about how his body was reconnecting itself. She would give anything to study Scree, and hoped he would be happy to allow her. He seemed the curious type.

And then everything seemed to happened once more. Niesha cursed, figuring she would be in charge of the strange Scree, Niesha glanced to him, as he spoke to himself. From his tone it was clearly a wondering where the hell he was. "it's an infirmary. In-fir-ma-ry. To repair injuries" she pointed to his nose at this, trying to convey the meaning behind her words, as well as pointing around the infirmary.

After a few seconds she offered her hand, "it's not safe, let me take you somewhere safe, okay?" she gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile, waiting to see if he'd accept the offered hand. While Niesha was good at languages, she wasn't going to sit there and learn a new one in minutes. So gestures and other ways of communicating would have to do.