[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/210322/c7cea5d9c3a8b4b2455c1dde9246d4cb.png[/img] [/center]
[center][sub]Cathartes Salvage Ship[/sub][/center]
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The old man sat in his captain’s chair, eyeing up the bridge crew. Remia was busy studying monitors, while Kellen seemed overly focused on navigating. It was obvious that there was tension in the air; everyone was just waiting for these pirates to return and attack them next. Cornell expected that, but to send out every available pilot to guard the Cathartes would only exhaust them by the time the enemy finally reached them. 

[color=brown]“Sir.”[/color] Spare Infield walked into the bridge, nodding at Cornell. At the very least, he was being respectful. [color=brown]”I thought I’d do my best to give you whatever information I had on the attack.[/color] 

Cornell nodded. [color=gray]”Any help would be appreciated.”[/color] 

Infield nodded. [color=brown]”The enemy attacked quickly and disabled our ship. They didn’t give us a chance to fight back, and the few mobile suits that were able to launch were destroyed in minutes. If it wasn’t for the Zeon transport and the pilot that kept them pinned for the fight, we’d probably all be dead.”[/color] 

Cornell nodded. [color=gray]”I think we should talk to this hero pilot. Remia, go ahead and find out where he’s hiding out and get him brought to the bridge.”[/color] 

*** 

[color=pink]”Hey, Mr. Hotshot pilot.”[/color] The female engineer shook the cot that Bareback was sleeping on. [color=pink]”The captain’s asked to talk to you on the bridge. Wants to know about those suits you were fighting.”[/color] She wrinkled her nose. [color=pink]”Maybe you could...also clean off first? You smell [i]awful.[/i][/color] 
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[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/210308/7eef4292d316951f0318a14038b4f5c0.png[/img][/center] 

Marlowe listened intently to everyone arguing about exactly what to do about fighting. He thought about it for a moment, wishing he could help in some way. But his grandfather refused to let him pilot in combat. It didn’t help that even in the piloting sims, he refused to go for any actual [i]killing[/i] blows. 

[i][color=gray]”You’re too soft boy. If I let you pilot in a fight, you’d be killed in two seconds.[/color][/i] The old man’s words rang in his ears constantly. Why should his friends fight and risk their lives while all he could do was stand around and hope for the best? It just wasn’t fair. 

[color=yellow]”I know everyone has an opinion on what we should do about the enemy, but I think we should just be ready for when they come back. Because something tells me they are coming back.”[/color] He knew it, somehow. As if he could see the tiny dots far in the eternal blackness of space, making their way towards the Cathartes as everyone argued. 

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