[center][color=Plum][h2][b][i]Molly Agaphira[/i][/b][/h2][/color][/center]
[color=Plum][h3][sub][i]Fourteen Hours Ago[/i][/sub][/h3][/color]

[color=Orangered]"This is Davis, we're all set on my end,"[/color] Engineer Davis reported through his comm. The destroyer [i]Wulfmageddon[/i] had been on edge for the past two days. The [i]Wulfmageddon[/i] was getting ready for something big, though junior enlisted members of the crew like himself hadn't been told too much about their task. What he [i]did[/i] know was that they were going to be intercepting a bulk freighter, named the [i]Gargantuan Giant Garry[/i], carrying a whole load of who-knows-what. A corvette could easily have swept in to escort the freighter to a shipping port of some kink to be searcher properly, which told him that the freighter definitely wasn't some pansy target. It could have been a Q-Ship, or something even better than that. Rumour had it that the freighter may have a load of hi-tech goodies, enough to get even a lowly engineer like himself a decent hit from the prize money of capturing the ship, but the rumours went even higher than that. There were some whispers going around that the [i]Gargantuan Giant Garry[/i] was supporting something big with it's shipment, perhaps some kind of large terrorist organisation, and was a juicy target for a Commodore looking for a pat on the head. Maybe even-

[color=Plum]"Hey dazy-brain, you good down there?"[/color] Called a feminine voice. Davis turned his head back from the ducts he had squeezed himself between. As his eyes settled upon Martha Pillion, a smile met his lips. Martha had joined the crew recently, a transfer over from the [i]Indrid Valley[/i] to help bolster the numbers a little. Extra marines on board for the boarding of the freighter put a bit more stress on the Life Support System, and so a couple more engineers had been needed to keep an eye on the system. Davis hoped Martha was a permanent transfer - she was gorgeous, and Davis was willing to shoot his shot; At least, when he wasn't deep into piping ducts. [color=Plum]"I don't want you getting stuck down there!"[/color]

[color=Orangered]"I'm fine! Will's got me down here looking for rodents and shit. Doesn't want them nesting in the heat and chewing on cables,"[/color] Davis called back, pushing himself a bit deeper. Now that he was further into the ducts, he could hear [i]something[/i], though he wasn't sure what it was that was tapping away at some unseen metal. He only saw what was possibly making the sound as he squeezed between a pair of utility mounts - it was a small box looking thing, about the size of his boot. He guessed that whatever it was, something was stuck in the mechanism, but he didn't actually know what it was. 

Then, a sharp pain, worse than anything he had ever felt in his life. He opened his mouth to speak however nothing came out, it took Davis a moment to realise he had been stabbed, a knife straight through the back of the neck, going straight into the back of his throat. He dropped to the ground like a sack of bricks, the life fading from him quickly. Someone picked up his hand, pressing it against something they were holding - was that his comm? It had the same orange highlights that he had put on it to stop losing it. Whoever it was, they pressed his finger against the panic button, triggering it, before getting up to leave him - why had they done that? Did they [i]want[/i] someone to find him dead? He caught glance of the individual as they began to leave before letting out a little gurgle, all he could manage as he began to slip away into the afterlife. It had been Martha. Martha had killed him. All Davis could do was curse her in his mind before he finally lost the little life he had left. An hour later, [i]Wulfmageddon's[/i] drive system went offline.

[hr]

[color=Plum][h3][sub][i]The Present[/i][/sub][/h3][/color]

It took three minutes for the connection between the [i]Elucidora[/i] and the communication node to be established. It was likely due the heavy encryption scheme that was forming between the ship and the node, and the node with another distant location. Molly knew that the shadowy supervisors of the White Ashes did not bounce their signal off of just one node but several in order to mask their location. And even then, there were other tricks that they employed, perhaps even some that Molly herself couldn't think of. Three minutes was enough time for Molly to finish packing away the engineer's uniform, and scrub the ID Card so that she could re-use it later; Martha Pillion would be no more, marked as having perished aboard the [i]Wulfmageddon[/i] as it's primary drive detonated.

A light on the communication's panel flashed twice, paired with a trio of beeps. The communication's line had been established, and someone had picked it up. Molly reaches over the shoulder of the pilot's seat and picks up the headset - she could have easily began speaking without it, but there was no issue with clearer audio where she could find it. She paused for long enough to note that nobody was speaking on the other side, no questions from the receiver of the transmission. That was a silent checkmark for the legitimacy of the receiver in being a White Ashes handler. Therefore, she spoke first, starting the handshake.

[color=Plum]"A white cat in a black fog."[/color]
[color=Darkseagreen]"I am a wizard. What do I see?"[/color]
[color=Plum]"A tower in the mist, a flower in the wind."[/color]
[color=Darkseagreen]"A tower of flowers, purring in the misty wind. Continue."[/color]

[color=Plum]"[i]Wulfmageddon[/i] is out of play. Her drives are completely offline. I've wiped myself clean off their system, I'm a ghost now. They are aware that it is sabotage, as requested."[/color] Molly says, closing the cargo compartment she had been sorting. Making it clear that it was sabotage by triggering one of her unfortunate victims' panic button was part of the plan, though it did mean the little bit of extra effort needed by the Qrura Worm to wipe her from the system as if she'd never been there. The [i]Gargantuan Giant Garry[/i] was not actually an affiliate of the White Ashes, just an unfortunate ship who got the attention of the Feds, which the White Ashes were using to their advantage. By putting the [i]Wulfmageddon[/i] out of commission and making it clear it was sabotage, [i]just[/i] before the ship executed an operation to intercept the bulk freighter, it made it obvious that someone was trying to protect the [i]Gargantuan Giant Garry[/i]. The Feds would take a day to realise the Wulfmageddon wasn't going to go after the freighter, another day to fetch a few more ships to go after it due to it's [i]clear importance[/i], and then another few days scratching their head as they find absolutely nothing on the freighter except a couple of scared crewmen. In the meanwhile, associates of the White Ashes would be able to continue operating unhindered for the new few weeks. She found it funny that a couple of separate gangs were willing to duke it out with eachother over a crate of cheeseballs, but were also willing to gather a couple million credits to give to the White Ashes in exchange for a little bit of help - after all, White Ashes were [i]expensive[/i], and their few operatives were valuable. Not just anyone could ask for them, and they were just lucky that one of their leaders had a little bit of clout.

Molly lifted the back of the pilot seat, folding it completely forward, before lowering the bed so she could climb onto it and tug the blankets over herself. One would have shown amusement at the fact she was talking to her handler, which may as well have been the equivalent of talking to a military superior, whilst she was laying in bed, but it didn't matter. The communications were audio-only, and people got their rest where they could - in this case, the rest was talking to the Handler. She shut her eyes, her hand feeling for a panel on the wall beside her before dragging her fingers down, the gentle falling of her fingers joined by the slow dimming of the lights. [color=Darkseagreen]"Congratulations on a job well done,"[/color] the Handler says, his voice calm and neutral, as if he was just having a normal conversation with her. If there was one thing different about White Ashes communications to [i]military[/i] communications, it was that not everyone sounded tough, because they didn't need to be. Handlers and Operatives could talk about whatever they wanted for as long as either didn't receive a different transmission they needed to answer. [color=Darkseagreen]"You're free until something else comes up. Planning on anything?"[/color]

[color=Plum]"Other than a nap, nothing. Let me know if something else pops up, I'm in a working mood,"[/color] Molly says, rolling onto her side. The Handler said his goodbyes before closing the transmission. He'd contact her again if something did come up that needed her or was in a close enough proximity that she could check out. On the other hand, if something turned up on her end - which wasn't likely - she could mark her status as occupied and do as she pleased. But for the time being, Molly closed her eyes, and waited for herself to either drift away into a dream, or to open her eyes to the beeping of the communications panel.