“If you all wish to rest,” Fihlyn said at last, her voice gentle but steady, “I should be able to manage the vessel until we reach the jump point.” She offered a faint smile, an invitation rather than an order. It’s not like they had anything like a chain of command at this point, anyway. “You have done more than enough for one day.”

John gave a sigh as he looked at the display. ETA, flight path and the systems all looked green. Then he looked down at his self. Gore still covered his front and none of it was his.

A sigh then as he stood and glanced around the bridge. Finally focusing on Fihlyn.

"Alright, I'm going to go wash off what's left of my friends and see if they have anything in my size. I'll be back in time for the jump." He made to leave but stopped; looking in askance to Velia. Where's the nearest cabin that had someone preferably near my size?"

"Bridge, this is Chief Medical Officer Raphael Vitella. The Medical Bay is no longer in Triage. We've finished patching up the wounded and moved those we couldn't save to cold storage. Most of my staff will be taking the rest of the day off unless something comes up. We've earned our R&R." Doctor Raphael Vitella said to whoever was in charge before ending transmission. It was standard procedure for Chief Medical Officers to give a status update to the captain or acting captain of a vessel regarding important events.

Doctor Raphael Vitella changed into his regular clothes before heading out of the Medical Bay. Today had been his busiest day since his time on Eden Prime. He couldn't drink any alcohol until his liver had fully healed, but he could still have conversations with other members of the crew who had not headed to Cryostasis. Hopefully about things other than the Metacer. The less he thought about the devastation the Bugs have caused and will most likely cause by the time the colony ship arrives at his new homeworld, the easier it would be to remain calm while working.

Reenneesuash (Ren to humans) daughter of veanamdarr

Ren crashed. She just Crashed. “Rest, talk later yeah doc. Find clothes…get a shower later. If you ni…nice.. leave me a note where coffff…eee is found.” Ren said, finally rolling over and curling into the sofa with a groan. Her head felt like she had been hit by a speeding grav train that was going at 500kph. She had no idea what was else going on, no idea how to right now and just needed sleep. A lot of sleep. She might be able to find out in a few hours minimum, a few hours rest…”

Ren was out of it to the point she was not sure if the doctor was about or not. Be nice for someone to give her some bedside manner, hold her hand, some kind of comfort…

Nightmares would plague her sleep for many days and weeks? This would not leave her and was plain too tired to not have Nightmares before but too busy and exhausted by constant duties, work and the like in the face of the apocalypse. Now though? She had to face it.

Her sleep was not peaceful. There was no peace to be found in rest and Ren was not a quiet sleeper. The woman had at least managed to tie her hair back out the way and would grab a plushy shark that had taken the effort to save from the doom of the space station. Childish but Ren needed comfort in such things.

Bugs, chaos, flames…? That was Rens sleep.

The young … for her race. Keiller rested and brushed some hair off her pointed ear by reflex. It tickled.

(If thry live to around 200, to human scale she is in 20's despite being similar age to doctor.)

---

Ginny’s head was still ringing when she got picked up, her vision swirling and the sound of blood flowing in her ears was overwhelming. She was concussed, but not unconscious as she listened passively. Once the shuttle had landed, she shuffled wordlessly out of it, nowhere near coherent enough to try and help in the landing bay. She lingered for a moment, trying and failing to recollect herself before she follows John. The layout of the ship was already more familiar to her than the shuttle pilot, but her pace was nowhere near enough to match.

Passing along the sleek walls, thankful that she could follow the power lines and piping. It was also nice that there wasn’t a need to use a ladder or lift to get to the bridge from the shuttle bay, a welcome piece of smart design work. It helped her refocus, her mind following the markings for panels. Her deactivated mag-boots still clacked on the grated floors, the rhythm of her pace bringing her back into the present instead of… wherever else her mind was wandering.

She would go into the maintenance cabinet she had stashed her duffel, and unzip it. While she was rummaging through it, the ship would hum to life, taking off. Even in her haze, her heart sank. There was no way that everyone had made it aboard, let alone much of the supplies to sustain them. She cursed to herself as she considered the situation, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. They were supposed to load up everyone and everything left, and…

And What? She had a plan, she may even have some credence after risking her life to buy time, but she was no leader, she was a hunting dog who got pointed in directions.

But now the direction is clear. She took the holoprojector from her pack, tapping it open in her hand, projecting a stellar map before her. It was the best lead anyone had ever gotten. The Eden colonists were the most direct Terran offshoots she had ever heard of, and old nav-charts in their archives gave her the best possible line. She had left a couple beacons, one on the planet which hopefully would last long enough for a rescue team to find it, and one on the now-dead station behind her.

But now, what was before her was more important, and the map was the best hope for this crew. She would take it with her, leaving the bag safe in the cabinet. That was when she looked down: she was still wearing her taped-up spacesuit, only the helmet bowl being removed. Her bottle of Vodka remained attached to her side, miraculously not shattered by the concussive force of the missile strike.

She made it up onto the bridge, catching the end of Velia bemoaning their lack of charts. Her eyes looked down for a moment, then across the other faces on the bridge. She locked eyes with the older Kiellar. She had a couple hours to come up with how she was going to pitch the idea.

“I’m a bit out of commission ‘ta be doing sweeps.” Her drawl was a little slurred still “Mark might be able to get some of those drones searching the place.” She offered uncertainly, unhelpfully. “I got some pathfinding experience, but these aren’t my usual parts.” She says “I can look at the maps you got, and give you all at least some directions.”

"They're all unexplored systems," Velia repeated, stepping back away from her console to let Ginny take a look at the charts, "Were you a surveyor or something?" she asked.

"To be honest," she added for everyone on the bridge to here, "I'd rather be anywhere but here at this point. I don't think those bugs can do a jump across the void of space and burrow into our hull... but I'd rather not take the chance. Uurgh... they must have been breeding in the station for weeks."

---

Ginny bobbed her head slowly side to side "Something like that, yeah." she says, a bit of defeat on her lips. "Even basic star charts will have some observatory spectrometry to work off of, give us a hint or two about what we're getting to." she explains. The discussion of the Metacer made her look down to her torn up pant leg, a nasty scar running down it where the pincer had torn flesh and biogel had sealed shut. "Yeah... I still don't like how that adds up, how they ended up here."

Velia's eyes seemed to glaze over a lit at mention of 'observatory spectrometry' though, to her credit, she didn't try to pretend she knew what Ginny was talking about. Instead she stepped away from her station, motioning for Ginny to take over from her, "I have the charts up. Do you want to pick one? Fihlyn can plot our route, once you've picked out a good one."

She seemed more than happy to evade that particular job.

Doctor Raphael Vitella walked down the corridor, other members of the crew moving up and down the corridor as he passed by. "Doctor Vitella." Doctor Yeoman said to Doctor Vitella as she ran up to him. "Doctor Yeoman." Raphael Vitella said to Yeoman as he walked with her. "Do you have any plans for when we reach our new home?" Yeoman asked Vitella. "I am a doctor. I will continue to perform my duties as one. I apologize if you are disappointed by that answer. I ain't a 'Big Plans' guy. Hell, I only accepted the role of Chief Medical Officer because everyone higher up the chain is bug chow." Doctor Raphael Vitella answered. "Well, I'm planning on opening my own clinic. It would be nice to have you there." Yeoman said to Raph. "You can count me in. It will be nice to walk on tile floors instead of metal ones." Doctor Vitella said to Yeoman. They continued walking until they reached a door and went inside.

"Hello. What can I get you?" A man standing behind the counter asked Raphael Vitella and Yeoman as they headed to a nearby table that was empty. "I will have water. Just water. I have to wait a while before I can drink alcohol again." Vitella answered. "I want a Twin Sunset." Yeoman answered. The man behind the counter poured water into a glass before pouring beer and fruit juice into a mug. The man behind the counter walked to them and placed their drinks on the table.

Mark didn’t get the relief everyone else seemed to be clinging to. Sure, the ship had peeled away from the station and the bulkheads weren’t vibrating with imminent collapse anymore, they had survived, at least for the time being. But then the word came down: movement in the vents.

Maybe it was only a handful of metacer, maybe it was “probably nothing.” Either way, if something small and hungry got into the wrong crawlspace and chewed through a line it shouldn’t then it wouldn’t be the bridge eating the blame, it would be engineering, or rather whoever was left in charge of it. So in others words it would be him, elbows-deep in singlehandedly trying to keep a barely-crewed colony ship from turning into a floating coffin.

So Mark made due with what he could. One of his maintenance drones sat on a work cradle under a harsh strip lights, its chassis scraped and dented from the mess back at the cargo ramp. He worked silently, replacing a scorched servo and reseating a cracked camera housing, reattaching a plate that had come loose and started to rattle like a bad tooth. It was all typical repair work he was used to but then he reached for the rifle at the side of the table.

“Yeah,” he muttered, “That’ll do.”

He wouldn't pretend this idea was elegant, it was a crude solution to a stupid problem, but the ship didn’t have the luxury of perfect.

He rigged the drone to carry it in a way that didn’t fight its balance, kept the barrel clear of its own frame and adjusted the setup into the drone’s existing control loop so he could make it work without needing a second set of hands. He didn’t need a sentry that looked good, just something that could go into a shaft and stop a bug before it became a nest, he was not about to go in there himself. He also refitted the flare launcher, light and heat still seemed to be effective ways to keep those things at bay.

By the time he was done, the drone looked like an amalgamation of military equipment welded to a maintenance frame. Mark wiped his hands on a rag and stared at it for a second, he felt rather proud of his little contraption.

“Whole ship full of geniuses,” he said to nobody, “And I’m the one chasing bugs in the damn vents.”

He keyed the comm.

“Bridge, Lopez. I’m pushing a sweep through the service shafts now. I’ve got a drone running eyes hunting for anything with more than two legs. If you’ve got reports of movement, give me deck and section. Out.”

He then switched to Ginny’s channel.

“Sokolova. I’m doing your sweep. If you hear anything about vent movement or hot spots, send it fast. I can only drive one of these things directly at a time.”

He launched the drone into the maintenance corridor. Its camera feed popped into his display: narrow metal conduits illuminated by its set of LEDs. The drone crawled into a vent junction and Mark leaned closer to the screen, his thumb and fingers making tiny corrections like he was flying a shuttle through clutter.

Somewhere under the irritation, another thought kept gnawing at him, this was going to keep happening. Not just with bugs but with everything. There weren’t enough hands around, not enough skilled crew. Every task was going to be triage, patchwork, improvisation and he could already feel how thin the margin was.

Mark watched the drone’s feed slide deeper into the ship and felt his annoyance forming into a possible solution. When this was over he was going to start building something better. Something that could do the job without him babysitting every meter of hull.

Because if the ESS 3822-01 was going to stay alive, it couldn’t depend on one exhausted engineer manually driving a metal bug-catcher through a maze of vents forever. He exhaled through his nose, thumb steady on the control.

“Alright,” he murmured, “Let’s go find your friends...”

Virginia "Ginny" Sokolova & Vitiafa of Endiohon
Cowritten by Pragia12 and Bingelly

---

Ginny was waiting in her berth, a fairly-tight quartered bunk near engineering. The maintenance closet next to it was doubling as her personal stowage. The Vodka bottle she had taken was empty now, sitting on a shelf across from her bunk. The senior Kiellar was natural for her to seek out to discuss their predicament, especially as a captain was not forthcoming among the crew. She was sitting in her bunk, legs planted on the floor and holo-sphere being fidgeted with in her hands.

"So," Vitiafa's voice broke the relative silence as she stepped through bulkhead. Her eye paused on the shelved bottle for a moment, then to the flush in Ginny's cheeks, then finally to holo-sphere in the human's hands. "I assume this is about a possible new home for us all, or at least a safe harbor before we move on to further stars?"

The ranger nodded, wincing with her leg when she rises with the priestess's arrival. Ginny wasn't military, but formal structures came naturally to her. "Something like that. I'm not from around here. Even if I were I'm not leadership material." she started "And it seems like that's in short supply around here, but you seemed like the best person to go to."

Vitiafa remained silent for a moment as she studied the ranger. She was still unsure what to make of the woman, her way of speaking stuck Vitiafa as off in a way she could not place. "Well," she sighed, "the Gods urge hospitality towards strangers, though I cannot speak for the present company. But surely there's someone else from your colony you could have approached before resorting to an priest? I must say I know nothing of operating a space-craft."

Virginia nodded her head “The Gods also smile upon prudence, and the counsel of their chosen.” She said with a strange casualness, for a human. “You don’t need to know how the ship works to tell right from wrong. Mark seems like a good man, and I’ve worked on my share of starships.” She explained. “Nobody here is from my colony, but I can at least point us all in a good direction.” She raised her hand to chest level, palm open up, and, with a press of a button, a map projected with a faint glow. “I was digging through the archives and found something that might be considered a gift from whoever’s up there.”

Vitiafa smiled faintly in response, though it faded quickly as she looked over the map. "An intact chart is a blessing for us all right now. But why keep this a secret? Is there something wrong with the data?"

The kiel paused briefly. She turned to look and listen through the bulkhead behind her. Satisfied after a moment, Vitiafa stepped closer to the human. She was careful to still shield the map from view

"Did you steal this, child?" Her voice was low. Her tone a bit stern, but the question carried no accusation.

Ginny's head drooped to left slightly, "Copied from Edenite Archives. If they would consider it stolen, then the people who would care are long gone." She asserted "It's charting from one of the early colony ships." She would click along the sphere, zooming in on Eden's position and the surrounding systems.

"I came here, from a sector a ways away, looking for a map to Earth." She said firmly, assenting to Viatafa's assumption nobody was listening "This is the best shot I've ever seen at finding it, and it might be the best shot you all have to find a new home."

"A sector far from here?" Vitiafa cocked an eyebrow, "Others survived the machines and the metacer? It must be easier to settle with them than to find earth, and that's to say nothing of the dangers of a voyage to Earth with a skeleton crew.

The texarkanan shook her head "Could if you wanted to, but I think there's a better shot in here than anything." She hummed, looking down below the stars projected between them "The parts I'm from are in the middle of a bit of a dust up. Lot of fighting between human supremacists and religious fanatics. New colonies are liable to be raided, and I wouldn't want to drag you all along on false hope for that." She shakes her head

"Do you have proof that Earth is still habitable after the collapse?" Vitiafa's features tightened as she pondered the route. "Or are we few choosing between war and banditry and the unknown for the souls in the hold?"

Ginny slouched, her shoulder lowering. "Nope, but I do think we're likely to pass by some candidates that a colony ship would have been looking for. Might not be Eden, but could be liveable." she offers with a shrug "I'm no miracle worker here, but I think its better than wandering aimlessly."

"You are likely right," the Kiellar nodded rapidly. "It is something tangible to work towards at the very least, and something to unify us. It is your people's homeworld, many Dhasath see Mars as religiously important, and the wormhole could still be open..." She paused for a moment, clearly lost in her own thought "And from there, may the gods guide us home."

Her gaze returned to the chart in Ginny's hand, and she tried to follow through a probable route to take. "We can suggest it to the bridge crew together or I can deliver the chart if you would prefer to avoid the attention."

The ranger gave a solemn nod in agreement with those words; the potential was endless, but the risk was great. "I'll get the chart loaded, hopefully our navigator can take us from there. But these people need someone to rally behind."

"They do, Ms. Sokolova, but we need to have faith in them as well," Vitiafa answered, "I will provide guidance when needed, do not doubt that, but I hope task and purpose will be unity enough for the moment."

---

ESS 3822-01 Vents

---

The drones' expedition through the vents, though necessary, was primarily a boring affair as they whirled through seemingly endless amounts of tubing and duct-work. Thankfully for the crew, it appeared as though the various seals and decontamination processes the Edenites had employed prior to the catastrophe had held. There were no traces of various forms of pest aboard. No droppings, no nests, and no skeletons.

Until one of the drones had reached one of the fans a little bit away from the cargo-hold. In front of the hovering drone and the spinning fan blade was a small metacer form that had managed to get aboard, likely before the evacuation. As the drone moved closer, it was rapidly apparent that it had lost a limb to the fan blade, likely when the ship had powered up, and very quickly bled out from the trauma.

The crew, it seemed, was safe from any insectoid incursion for now.

---

Vitiafa of Endiohon
Bridge

---

"Ms. Numosath, Mr. Lockman" Vitiafa said to announce her presence she walked into the bridge with Ginny not far behind her."Ms. Sokolova has a star chart with her. Could either of you see if you can upload it into the navigational systems?"

Taking a seat in the bridge as she waited for Ginny to catch-up, Vitiafa put on a headset, and dialed into the ship's intercom. "Could all available hands report to the bridge for an all-crew meeting? We shall decided our course here."

She muted herself and chuckled, "It's best to be democratic at first, yes?"

Doctor Raphael Vitella and Doctor Yeoman finished their drinks before heading to the bridge. "Looks like they want everyone who ain't busy to have a say where we will be goin'. Jesus Christ. It's gonna get very hectic in there." Doctor Vitella said to Yeoman. "I wonder what our destination will be. Earth maybe?" Doctor Yeoman said to Raphael Vitella. "Earth? The lost planet is a myth. Tryin' to find it is a waste of time and resources that could be better spent findin' a planet outside of charted space for us to settle. Preferably one that already has a breathable atmosphere." Vitella replied. "Well, we can't keep flying forever. We will eventually run out of supplies and systems will inevitably break down past the point of repair." Yeoman said to Raph as they continued walking down the corridor, passing by several crewmembers who were also heading to the bridge.

"Not to mention that we are a temptin' target for pirates. They are always lookin' for vulnerable ships to plunder. Hopefully, the route to our new home won't take us through areas with high pirate activity." Doctor Raphael Vitella said to Doctor Yeoman as they headed to the nearest lift, not wanting to be late. "I hope that we don't have to take such a route, Doctor Vitella. The last thing we need is heavy casualties. Pirates have qualms about killing anyone that gets between them and anything they deem valuable enough to steal." Doctor Yeoman said to Doctor Vitella as they entered the lift with two other crewmembers.

Velia hadn’t bothered to answer John’s auestion; the comm officer being swept up in a conversation his adrenaline addled mind struggled to make sense of. So he left; wandering the corridors for something resembling a ready room or barracks.

On the eleventh door he tried he found what looked like a security room. A desk with a hardened monitor in one corner; a table next to an array of cabinets with what looked like a small fridge and a hot drink machine shoved on its counter. A row of lockers as tall as him dominated one wall and a small holding cell occupied a distant corner as an afterthought. But beside that small plexiglass cube was a door with a universal symbol. John gave a prayer to whatever deity was listening as he discovered a small washroom complete with a ridiculously small shower stall.

John took a moment to secure the room behind him and check the lockers for his second goal. Two of the lockers appeared to be equipment lockers; useful later but locked down for the moment and of no interest to John’s singular focus. The third lockers yielded what he wanted; pre-sealed stacks of security jumpsuits. Not the most fashionable maybe; but clean and one was in his size.

With that John crowded into the small space and took the most lukewarm shower he ever remembered. It felt glorious for all of three minutes before the timer kicked on and cut off the water. Leaving the pilot half-covered in suds but at least cleansed of grime, debris and gore for the moment.

He was in the process of scraping off the suds on his scalp when the intercom helpfully blared from its mount five feet from his head.

Taking a seat in the bridge as she waited for Ginny to catch-up, Vitiafa put on a headset, and dialed into the ship's intercom. "Could all available hands report to the bridge for an all-crew meeting? We shall decided our course here."

“What the f-“ He bit back the curse as he caught sight of the PA and groaned. “So much for a breather.”

The last part muttered under his breath as he dumped his dirty and combat torn flight gear on the room’s break table. Taking time to strip his survival gear and TacPad and put it on the security gear’s respective mounts. Not that it fit perfectly but it would do till he washed the previous set or pulled a spare set from the Kestrel’s gear lockers.

With a reluctant sight he began to make his way to the bridge. Dark blue uniform and its vest feeling too stiff and unnatural. Obviously not broken in.

A price to pay for clean clothes.

He arrived back on to the bridge with little fanfare; keying it open with what was already becoming a familiar process. Plopping into “his” seat and pulling open the shakedown manual and the current readings. All looked steady and the random heading from before was still being cheerfully followed by the autopilot.

“Well the ship’s not about the hit an asteroid. What’s the hurry?” He twisted in his seat look back at the bridge.

Reenneesuash (Ren to humans) daughter of veanamdarr

Having found a shower, a change of clothes and a meal the keiller woman was beginning to feel a little more human as she pushed long silver hair into a simple low pony tail and wore some clean clothes that not covered in oil, bug juice and smell of a old power lifter that had not been used in weeks before that probably. Clothes were pretty basic out of the bag she had taken from the doomed station, a plain colour T shirt, black leggings and a pair of boots that had a worn corporate logo on and several large scuffs from use and wear and tear. A closet had a bunch of clothes sealed up, most too big or unsuitable but did find a white sport style jacket, oversized on her but within reason, pockets and would keep the child off. Tearing it open she quickly donned it, holstered the pistol where it would not be too obvious and hid the knife at her back.

The meal was not fancy, just some coffee and a heated up ration type meal of what passed for mac and cheese with some steam cooked instant vegetables and a dessert that proclaimed to be “pie” but seemed more like some kind of strange cake more than anything recognizable. Still it was food and helped restore her mental and physical function that had been on point of collapse several times before she fell asleep.

“Taking a seat in the bridge as she waited for Ginny to catch-up, Vitiafa put on a headset, and dialed into the ship's intercom. "Could all available hands report to the bridge for an all-crew meeting? We shall decided our course here.”

“Bridge…” repeating the word and considering where it might be, up was always best. Bridges were often higher up above other areas of a ship.

Rising felt like an effort but far less than before and finished off the last of the strange cake product unwilling to waste the calories despite its tasting of genuinely nothing identifiable. “Navy ration 16, universal” it said on packaging that was dumped into a bin. The bridge should be off the main stairs.. that should be near the centre..

Logic from space stations and corporate labs should carry over so headed for the most central, grandest stairway and headed up where the things looked to be more high tech and brightly lit / noise.

Arriving at the deck she needed, it was marked clearly with signs that lead to the bridge and walked in, finding a few already present including the older priestess, another woman and pilot. Finding a seat and spinning it would form a console of unknown use, with various charts and wave functions on the display. “Hey? Course? We have a plan besides running from place to place, destroying our own space station and manually detaching an access tunnel with explosive bolts.” Ren grumbled at the end and waved her legs from the chair that was set too high even in sturdy boots.

The younger of the Keiler rested one leg over the other and waited for another to arrive wondering if they had snacks for this meeting. Snacks would be a nice way to make the apocalypse less shit. "Do we have coffee, this might be a long meeting." Ren said and looked about for a pot or a galley.

@Terrans@Bingelly@Flarbinia

Doctor Vitella passed a cup of coffee to the Kieler before turning his attention to the Vifella. "The Kiellar has a point. We can't keep runnin' forever. We have to choose a route that will lead us to a new home. Preferably one that doesn't go through space with high pirate activity. Our temporary home will be a tempting target for them and the higher the risk of attack, the higher the casualties we might suffer." Doctor Raphael Vitella said to Vifella. "I concur with Doctor Vitella. If this Noah's Ark has any armament and armor, it is insufficient for combat with any large and powerful pirate vessels. Not to mention that some of the more... tech savvy pirates might decide that there is more profit to be made from salvage than capturing this ship." Doctor Yeoman said before drinking her cup of tea.

"Don't get me wrong. I have the upmost faith in the ability of the soldiers and security personnel who made it onboard to repel pirate boarding parties. It's just that, as Chief Medical Officer, concern over potentially life-threatening risks to those onboard this vessel." Rapahel Vitella said to Vifella, glancing at the man wearing a dark blue uniform before sitting back down.
@Terrans@PrinceAlexus@Bingelly

John might have been new to the command structure of big ships; but he was pretty sure an all hands briefing should have been more briefing then an open forum debate.

Sure, he was learning helmsmanship on the fly, but he had a basis at least in aerospace navigation. He was sure at least half of the crew crowding into the bridge got their ideas on space travel from Network shows and those articles that always popped up on news feeds.

“Hey? Course? We have a plan besides running from place to place, destroying our own space station and manually detaching an access tunnel with explosive bolts.”

The short kiellar that spoke up looked even shorter from the depths of the standard sized crash seat. John might have given a laugh at the dissonant if he didn’t feel the slight burn of shame.

“The station was an accident.” He jabbed back. Slightest bloom of color on his cheeks. On a screen behind him the station silently rocked from a secondary explosion. A flurry of metal and flame briefly flaring from the wound he had torn in the station. “As for the course. We have one out of system. Random jump. After that however…”

He trailed his voice off and met the short kiellar’s eyes. A hopeless shrug of his as he tried to puzzle what her function on the ship was. Her cobbled together outfit left him no clue other then she probably was like him; finding a function amidst the scramble to evacuate.

Then the pair of medical officers started talking on pirates. John resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Sure pirates were definitely on the threat list. They were just not anywhere near the top of his list of worries. More like a middle ground. All one had to do was make the chase not worth the reward.

"Don't get me wrong. I have the upmost faith in the ability of the soldiers and security personnel who made it onboard to repel pirate boarding parties. It's just that, as Chief Medical Officer, concern over potentially life-threatening risks to those onboard this vessel."

“Well as the one piloting this hunk of metal. You can be assured that I have concern for the well being of this ship well in hand.”

Perhaps a bit more hostile than he intended. But it had been a day.

Speaking of hard day.

A search of his survival pouch in his vest fielded a prize. The whiskey bottle from the bar. Half filled and still intact despite the tribulations of the day.

A swig tamped down his emotions and he passed the bottle to the nearest station. The short kiellar with the ridiculously large boots.

“Besides it’s not like the pirates send out a newsletter for their latest hotspots. “

Reenneesuash (Ren to humans) daughter of veanamdarr

Ren was a little surprised when the dr handed her a coffee, the same man who had grilled her somewhat on how useful she was. Maybe she passed or maybe he realised she was just exhausted when stumbled into that med bay and stole his office sofa. He was a little prickly but she was the same right now so hey, be gracious. Giving him a smile Ren took the coffee carefully and balanced it on the arm of the chair that was designed for taller beings and persons. “It's Ren, Raphael Dr Ren if you insist, I did steal your sofa earlier.” She said, taking a sip of coffee with a positive nod and a soft sigh. “I could tease you, but thankyou, and pop by any time you fancy ration issue cake or coffee.” She decided and kept her teasing to a bare minimum just glad to talk to someone who might let her go on about xeno biological theory's.

Turning to look at both the pilot and doctor, one was defending his explosion and dooming an entire station of supplies prematurely, the other had a thing for pirates…maybe he had a thing… weird folks in the apocalypse, who cared. They were alive. Meeting the Pilot with almost gold eyes and a striking ring of platinum about them. Well might as well try to make a better impression. Even at her 5’3 height, damn genetic quirks… “reenneesuash, daughter of veanamdarr, Ren is easier.” Pronouncing her name very clearly but not insulting, just for clarity. “I have fled 2 stations in under a day, it's better than hovering over a dead world hoping bugs eat each other. They might make super hives and be mono dominant and aggressively competitive, but not self-destruct in months. Their social structures are pretty stable and take a major destabilisation event to cause critical failures in hive cohesion on continental scale. They self regenerate queens and internally maintain hive health as well as enforce control over the workers and warriors. They are very indust… ” She said, feeling less hostile and yes. They needed to move forward. The Ren rambled off in xeno biological mode as her brain locked into track and rode that train all the way to the station.

“Thanks. Good stuff.” She said mixing a little into her coffee and taking a small draw of the bottle before passing it onto the medical doctors. “what facilities looking like? We have medical, do we have Hydro bays, anything really we can use to help us bar many sealed crates of Navy rations and such. You know of a planet, a place, more than ruins?” She wondered what kind of resources were available. The last part was quite almost unwilling to say too loudly lest it be false.

@Terrans@Flarbinia

"According to what little I've read on the subject, colony ships have a hydroponics bay that can feed everyone who is not placed in stasis for months, provided that they receive routine maintenance." Doctor Yeoman said to Ren. "Ren bought up a good point. The medical bay is fully stocked, but we should do a full inventory of other supplies. The last thing we need when fleeing from the bugs is unnecessary delays." Doctor Vitella said before sliding the coffee to Yeoman. "Doctor Vitella is right. We should do a full inventory. Regardless of our chosen route, it's gonna be a long trip. We need to know what we need to stock up on before going on supply runs or buying supplies." Yeoman said before drinking the coffee.

"Thank you for the reassurance. We can all sleep easier tonight knowin' that we have such a capable Ace on our Noah's Ark. I would give a toast, but I can't drink alcohol for a while." Raphael Vitella said to the Kiellar pilot before turning his attention to who he assumed was the one who called everyone to the meeting.

@PrinceAlexus@Terrans@Bingelly

While the group was speaking, the electric whirr of a mobility scooter sounded as the Grendari Gloriont made his way onto the bridge. He drove into the centre of the bridge as if assuming he was the Captain though, perhaps wisely, he didn't offer an opinion on anything, looking rather bored by people's opinions.

"So we're looking for the Sol system now?" Velia asked with a raised eyebrow, then shrugged, "Sure... why not. It's as good a destination as any, though wouldn't it be easier to just find an uninhabited planet near here and set down?"

"Stupid!" Divaldo grunted, "Perhaps you can tell me how the metacer jump from planet to planet? Any sane person would rather be on the opposite side of the galaxy to where we are right now."

"Nobody cares what you think," Velia snapped back, though more out of irritation at his tone than anything else, "Though, like I said, Sol is as good a destination as any."

Ginny was in her coveralls, having reviewed the stellar maps for candidates on the way. Velia’s concern merited a nod “There were some candidates the Edenites passed up on the way there, and others they weren’t able to reach. Its possible we find a place to set down before we get there.” She’d offer, looking at Divaldo for a moment. There was a certain cruelty that for all the death and lost that this creature made it.

She looked to Vitiafa wtih some resolve "Think my preference is obvious." she says firmly, this was the best shot to go on the greatest adventure of her life.

"As good a destination as any? Searchin' for The Lost Planet would be a waste of time and precious resources. However, we need to put as much distance between us and civilized space as possible. The Metacer can jump from planet to planet. All it takes to doom a world is one queen makin' it to the surface and creatin' a hive. Once they get out of the Eden System, the process will begin all over again. Settlin' the nearest uninhabited planet will buy us a generation or two at most." Doctor Raphael Vitella said to the others, his voice filling with fear when he mentioned the name of the bugs that had wiped out Eden Prime and its colonies.

"Returning to the topic of the Sol System, It's a dangerous gamble. We don't know if the Machines are still there or if there are any inhabitable worlds left after the machines were done with it. For all we know, we could escape the damn bugs only to find either an enemy stronghold or a barren rock. Neither outcome would be good for us." Doctor Yeoman said to the others before turning her attention to the Kiellar. "Thanks for the coffee, Ren." Yeoman said before sitting back down. "Apologies for not leavin' any for you, great Gloriont, assumin' you like coffee." Raphael Vitella said to Divaldo before following suite.

@Dyelli Beybi@PrinceAlexus