[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180518/cb604a45ab043fad821e9464066b210f.png[/img]
[img]www.isnnews.net/hyperspace/inter/intewhit_lg4.jpg[/img]
[/center]

Marcus waited on the bridge of his ship. His thoughts drifted through the dilemma he faced. Earth was never known for being very accepting and now would likely be no different. The Centauri however were always fairly easy to handle, so long as you had booze or made them think they were going to get more from you by working with you then by eliminating you. Unfortunately none of his crew were centauri, the humans among them however could fairly easily pass all but a medical scan.

First word came to him that the fighters were aboard. Then his first officer strolled onto the bridge. Turning to her he raised an eyebrow in question. “The survivor has been locked into quarters near the infirmary.” She stated. “And everything that could be saved was moved to the cargo bay.”

Marcus nodded. “Good; No ones to be seen by our guest without a vacsuit on. I’ll handle the questioning.” The captain stood. “Start sorting through what was salvaged, try to eliminate the mundane. But don't dispose of anything.”

The human turned his eyes toward the swirling red on the nearest display. “I want Wyvern 3 ready to launch before we return to normal space.” Marcus sighed softly, he didn't even realize he made the decision he did. “Set course for the last recorded coordinates of Centauri Prime.” The captain began to pace as his instructions were followed.