[i]"What are your orders, Sir?"[/i]

The words seemed to linger there in the air between the two men for a few seconds. "Deploy the squad shuttle," was Captain McDonnell's order. He glanced over to the crewman: "And tell them they have Coalition authority. This is our mission, our jurisdiction. If the cops wanna help, fine. But they don't answer to the police."

Bureaucracy. It was everywhere. It was stifling, smothering, suffocating. If he was to be honest with himself, which he tried as much as possible not to be, he really couldn't care less about the artifact itself. He just didn't want another war to have to deal with. Even if the Coalition stayed out of it, which they wouldn't, it would still affect him and everyone else in the galaxy. In space, wars are big.

All for a Holy Cheese Sandwich. 

Elijah rubbed his temple, staring at a monitor blankly. He should probably see the ship's counselor. Did they even have one? Their last counselor got sick and had to be hospitalized, but she'd been gone ever since the captain got the command. It's just as well, he thought. He already knows his lack of sleep is due to stress, both professional and personal. 

He reclined back in his comfy chair and closed his eyes, awaiting the visuals of the drop shuttle soaring down toward the Earth.