Floodwaters
Inactive Member
Amatsu-Nova Space Station - Kohana Cloud
Docking Bay 9, Slip 31
The immense docking bays of an Amatsu-class spaceport were always an impressive and busy sight. A collossal open area, over a hundred meters top to bottom, lined on all sides by landing platforms and in the middle by gigantic support armatures and cranes for handling everything from the tiniest one-man patrol craft to massive frieghters and warships. They were always abuzz with the sounds of engines, power tools, and antigrav lifts shuttling crews and service personnel around like a swarm of busy insects. The Amatsu-Nova station in the Kohana Cloud was no exception today; although Docking Bay 9 was not currently housing any craft larger than a mid-size freighter, its various slips and landing platforms were filled nearly to capacity.
A large, squat-U-shaped drone with a towing fork hanging beneath it hummed through the air as it approached Slip 31, fixed against the wall opposite the huge bay's atmospheric shield, three levels up from the bottom of the bay. In its fork was fixed a rusted, empty yellow refuse bin, swinging and squeaking loudly every time the robotic drone made a course correction. It slowed its speed as it neared the edge of the landing platform, on which was landed a vaguely arbelos-shaped spacecraft sitting on squat struts. Its outer hull looked like it had seen better days; signs of patching were evident in several places, and its original factory paint was long gone. Micrometeorite impact craters marred the hull in some places, and an entire section of the upper hull in the stern above the engines had been removed, apparently recently, although judging by the fact that the missing plating sat intact just a few yards away, it would be fair to guess that whoever had done it had every intention of putting it back together once they had completed their intended task.
The drone clinked and whirred as it jerked to a hover, and ungracefully lowered the big waste container to the ground off of the vessel's port side with a loud clang, detached its towing fork, and sped off to perform the next task on its agenda. It was only a moment later that, from down a ramp extended from the beat-up vessel's underside down to the landing platform, a pair of heavy boots clomped down, attached to a set of legs in thick, loose-fitting work pants lined with pockets. Soon the legs revealed a feminine waist, and then finally the upper body, clad in a grease-stained black tank top, of the young woman as she ducked under the hull halfway down the ramp, peering out from under the ship with a slightly annoyed-looking curious expression at the racket. A welding mask, flipped upwards, was perched atop her head of short-cropped auburn hair, sweat glistening on her ruddy, burnt white skin as she descended the rest of the way down the ramp, running her heavy-gloved hand along the underside of the hull above her as some kind of guidance. She had a slender face, and narrow, all-seeing eyes, the kind that made one uneasy when they hovered on them for too long. She was tall for a woman, taller even than some men, in fact, and built with a lithe, athletic form. Pulling her gloves off, she drew a deep breath and wiped the beaded sweat from her forehead as her pair of greenish-brown eyes locked on the dropped refuse bin, shaking her head. "Guess you get the service you pay for," she muttered to no one in her breathy, coarse, yet vaguely alluring mezzo-soprano voice. When she'd been told that she could arrange for the waste she generated in restoring the bucket of bolts behind her to be picked up, she had apparently overlooked the fact that she herself would have to be the one to collect it into one place. Yet another thing to add to her growing list of things to do.
The young woman's slender face turned to her left, glancing towards a waist-high and ten-foot circumferenced pile of dirty towels, rusty and twisted metal gratings, undefinable insulation material, and shreds of the most heinously, inconceivably ugly green shag carpet she had ever seen in her life. Wrinkling her nose, she sighed as she glanced back at the empty collection container, a good forty feet from the pile, and she could tell by looking at it that it would be too heavy for her to push closer. With a small shrug, she turned and started to head back into the ship, pulling her welding gloves back on, but only made it a few steps before she realized that she probably only had a limited time before the drone would return to recollect the trash bin, whether it was full or not. Groaning, she turned back for the pile and shuffled towards it, removing her gloves once more just before pulling the welding mask off of her crown. Ruffling her dirty hair a little to let her scalp breathe, she tossed the mask and gloves to the side, and resolved to put aside tearing down the old ship's slagged hyperdrive -- again -- in order to get the refuse hauled away for the second time. She took a moment to survey the haphazard pile of junk she had painstakingly dragged piece by piece from the ship, deciding where to begin, before she grabbed hold of the corner of one of the larger scraps of horrid shag carpet and started to pull it down. The lean muscles in her arms pulled taut from the effort, she gritted her teeth and grunted as some larger chunks of debris came down with it, riding along on top of the rug fragment as she dragged it away.
She could only be annoyed for a few moments longer, however, until she turned to face the aging, and by the looks of it, barely spaceworthy little freight runner propped up on its stubby little struts behind her, and let a smile creep over her face. The ship looked like hell, and its previous owner had either had no idea what they were trying to accomplish in terms of interior decor, or were purposely trying to drive themselves mad with the most obnoxiously over-the-top color scheme one could possibly imagine. It was in terrible need of repairs and service, and had obviously been sitting exactly where it was for a long time now. It was a bucket of rusty bolts.
But it was her bucket of rusty bolts now. She smiled more broadly, feeling lighter all of a sudden. It had taken weeks to find a place that was willing to sell a starship she could both afford and have practical use for. But her diligence had finally paid off, and thanks to some clever negotiating and the sorry state that this one was in, she was financially going to come out far ahead of where she had originally expected. She had been free when she seized the opportunity that the Yamataians had given her to escape Urtullan. But now, once she could get her new prize in good working order, still more boundaries would collapse before her. She would be that much closer to being truly free.
Not too far off a man walked along the lonely and cold catwalks that connected some of the closer landing platforms to each other. He paused once and a while to lean against the rail and look out upon the collection of ships, all shapes and sizes and types, that inhabited the massive complex. He looked out wistfully, remembering the days when he had a ship of his own and then being reminded of the sorry state of his affairs as of late. He had become a long term resident of Amatsu-Nova space station some six months ago when his ship and little slice of the universe had finally given out, her main power core and drive systems burning out in one final and alarmingly catostrophic bang.
The man now spend much of his time hanging around the landing bays, watching ships come and go. He figured his times for adventure were nearly done, not that it was a bad thing. He had made plenty of money selling the remains of his old boat to afford a quiet and relatively comfortable life on Amatsu-Nova.
He had an old Calabash pipe, which he puffed away at as his eyes swept across the bay. It was large and distinctive in shape, the favorite of his small collection. His eyes stopped at some commotion below on the nearest platform. An old battered hulk of a ship, not too different from his old boat, sat there. Someone was working on her, bringing her back into running order it seemed with the collection of hardware and parts and a newly delivered rubbish bin scattered around the vessel. There was a woman down there, working on it, he saw her going at the pile of junk the can had been deposited for.
Something about the auburn mess of hair and the slender face. "All be damned," his deep voice said softly. He looked again, leaning against the rail a litle farther and this second look he knew what he had seen was correct. He pushed away from the railing and made his way casually along the walkway to a narrow and steep stair that took him down to the platform level.
"My my, do my old eyes decieve me, or is that Sienna Shelton I see on this farthest of outposts from home?" he stated. His voice was deep, almost craggy, He stood about thirty feet away, at the service access to the landing platform, arms folded across his chest. He stood some six foot four and while he was not overly muscular in build, he had an imposing presence, swarthy complexion, worn and scarred face, his black hair and thickly bearded loosing the battle with time, going gray at the temples and a few other places. Imposing until one got to his eyes,which held a light and sense of mirth too them, that and the smile broadening across his face.
Standing there was Oreza Dakkar, former Captain in the Nepleslian Star Navy and once long time friend of the Shelton family.
The young woman paused in her laborious debris-dragging and looked toward the source of the voice, her brow wrinkled in confusion when she heard her name. When she noticed the huge, bearded man with mighty-looking forearms folded across a barrel chest looking jovially back at her, she narrowed one eye and turned her head slightly, a hesitant look on her face. She was wary, but she couldn't deny that there was definitely some sense of familiarity about him. She looked back over her shoulder cursorily, as if to confirm to herself that this wasn't some wildly improbably coincidence, and that the man was indeed addressing her. Wiping her glistening brow with the back of her hand again, then swatting away some sweat that coursed down her neck and exposed collarbone, she let go of the pile of trash and turned to face the man.
"Sorry, but how do you..." she began, still with the hesitant look on her face. "Do I...?" Sienna knew she knew him from somewhere, but she couldn't piece together why or from where. After a short, awkward pause, a pang of recognition hit her like a speeding car, and her eyes lit up, her mouth dropped open. "Holy shit, Bear, is that you!?" she exclaimed.
"Sienna, I knew it was you!" Oreza grinned broadly and walked over, crossing the distance between them in several large strides. "How tall you have become since last I saw you." He had last seen her nearly a decade ago.
A disbelieving chuckle escaped Sienna as she folded her arms across her breast, shaking her head as she took stock of the large man approaching her from head to toe. Her nonchalance didn't hold for very long, however, and in seconds a broad grin broke through. "Yeah, well, eight years is a while," she replied. "Maybe not to you, though, ya withering old sack of crap. I dunno whether I wanna hug you or bust your nose for up and leaving without so much as a word."
"I think I will settle for the hug," Oreza replied, He felt a pang of regret for having left how he did, but the conflict between himself and Sienna's father had not allowed him time to say a proper goodbye to the girl. It was something that had weighed heavily on his heart for some many years. Any regret he felt was set aside at least for this moment, overcome by the joy of seeing the little girl he had treated as if she had been his own niece.
The grin on Sienna's face widened at Oreza's response. "Yeah, I bet," she replied, and beckoned him closer with a wave of her hand, striding towards him as well to close the gap before she stood on her toes and threw her arms around the big, hairy man's bull neck and squeezed. "How've you been? And how the hell did you wind up here of all places?"
Oreza wrapped his arms around the smaller woman, hugging her tight, he noted how stongly her arms squeezed around his neck, giving a hint to the physical strength Sienna now possesed. "Oh, I've been fine," he replied. "Just where I ended up when my luck ran out," he added in answer to her questions.
"What brings you out this way?" he asked, finally letting her go.
Sienna raised one eyebrow as they seperated, looking up at him quizzically. She started to say something, then after no more than a quarter of a syllable came out, she blinked and changed course with a slight shake of her head. "This old thing here," she replied, indicating the aged small freighter crouched on the landing pad with a thrust of her thumb over her shoulder, looking back fondly at it. "Had a helluva time finding one I could afford without jumping through too many Yamataian hoops, but I finally got me a ship of my own." She chuckled softly. "The hyperspace fold is toast, the hull's been patched in more places than I wanna think about, I gotta put every single relay manifold back in sync, the port cargo bay is full of green water, there's some kind of Yam robot sex bed where the escape pod should be that I don't wanna touch with a ten-foot pole, and whoever had it last had the single worst taste in decorating I've ever seen And that's just the most obvious stuff. I'm finding more and more stuff every time I climb back aboard.." She thumbed the side of her nose, smirking sardonically as she continued, shooting a sly look back at him. "But the price was right. After I scrap the hyperdrive, I bet I'll make the whole cost of the ship back. All it's gonna cost me is parts, maybe a little labor. The scrap dealers around here are clueless." Her satisfied smile faded quickly, however, and she gave the bearded man with a look of slight, concerned curiosity. "So what do you mean, 'your luck ran out?'" she asked him, putting her calloused hands on her hips as she changed the subject back to him.
"Oh nothing too bad," Oreza answered. "My old boat finally called it quits not far from here," he shrugged. "Main reactor fizzled and melted the FTL and sub light drives, and that was that," He did not mention how the meltdown of the nuclear powerplant had also burned away a large chunk of hull and required jettisoning of the entire engineering compartment and fuel tanks before everything else almost blew.
The dubious look on Sienna's face strengthened, her forehead wrinkling deeper as she watched up at him, listening. "Uh huh," she replied flatly, and folded her arms across her chest once again. "'Cause you had an amateur looking after it, no doubt," she added, the smirk returning slightly. "And now you're stuck here, by some twist of fate, running right across my path at exactly the right moment in an infinite universe. Some might call that kinda creepy, Bear," she concluded, giving him a sly wink before inhaling, letting her shoulders rise and fall before speaking again. "You gonna tell me why you really left back then?" she asked him, her voice changing from playful mocking to semi-distant wonder.
Oreza took a breath, he knew she would ask about it pretty quick. "Well, it is a complicated matter," he said. "Your father and I do not see eye to eye on certain matters", he began. "As you know I was in the Navy when you were a kid and Carson is a firm supporter of the Reds, who openly opposed the Navy," he paused, sorting his words carefully. He and Sienna's father had been childhood friends and even eight years later this was a sore subject for Oreza. "Well, for years he had taken opposition to my signing up for the military and had on many occasions tried to persuade me to resign and join the cause he and your mother had comitted themselves too. I could not do this. Carson and I were best of friends, but I could not turn my back on my country or my fellow soldiers, not for what the Reds stand for." He looked out at the vast hangar, at landed ships and others moving about. "We had an argument that last night, things were said on both sides that probably should not have been and I decided I should not come back until cooler heads could prevail. Your father stated that I should not return until I changed allegence and quit the navy." He glanced back at Sienna, a mix of regret and at a lost friendship and the determination of one who had stood fast to their beliefs on his face. "I don't ask your forgivness for leaving, just that you understand why I did what I had to do." He looked back away into the open space again, waiting for her response.
Her arms still folded, Sienna quietly listened to Drakkar's testimony, her expression for the most part blank. When he finished and looked away, she sighed quietly and tightened her lips, following his gaze temporarily out into the vast docking bay abuzz with activity. "I knew Carson had to be full of shit," she breathed. "Kind of insulting that he thought I'd believe you were arrested for human trafficking." She turned her eyes back on the big bearded man, her face sterner now. "But damn it, Bear," she said with more conviction, "you left us alone with them. We were kids. You just left us to get killed in someone else's war, over some dumbass ideology I didn't even understand." She held her eyes firmly on him, silently willing him to look back at her, an odd mix of anger tempered with understanding in her gaze. "I guess I can understand why you left, but didn't any of that cross your mind?"
Oreza's jaw tightened with anger at the mention of what Sienna's father had told them, but he forced his way pas that, he had known Carson would have made something up, just he had never expected something like that. But he knew Sienna had nothing to do with that, so being angry when the person responsible was not there got him nowhere.
He took a long slow breath composing himself. "I had to go, Sienna. I fought in that war, helped defend my country as best I could," he said. "Your father would not let me come back. When I tried to, to come see you and Jacob, your father would not have it. And with the war getting worse, my ability to even come back to Nepleslia.." He paused, composing himself for a moment. "I am sorry I was not there for you and your brother," he said, true regret in his voice. He looked back at her and he seemed much older and tireder than he had before.
Sienna simply held Oreza's eyes for a silent moment, arms folded, face expressionless, almost expectantly waiting for him to say something further. After a pause, however, her shoulders slumped slightly as she sighed, holding up her palm as she shook her head and looked away. "Ancient history anyway," she offered halfheartedly, then glanced sideways back at him, smirking weakly. With a single, sardonic chuckle, she shrugged once. "So. Here we are now."
"Here we are," he agreed, turning his eyes back towards Sienna. "You're out here with your starship, your parents I assume back home still. How about Jacob, he come out with you to adventure through space as well?" Oreza asked.
On his mention of her brother, Sienna's face twisted imperceptibly, and she cleared her throat all too obviously. "Yeah, the parents are 'home,' wherever the hell that is," she replied, looking away again, unfolding her arms and hooking her thumbs through her front belt loops as she tried to look nonchalant. "Left a long time ago, ain't been back since," she continued, taking a step out towards the edge of the platform. She gave him a quick, sidelong glance, then averted her eyes again. "Long story, actually." she added.
Oreza cought the change in her demeanor and knew he had hit a painful subject. He could only wonder what had happened since he had left, what Sienna and her family had gone through, obviously it had not been good. He also knew the open space of the hangar bay was not the appropriate place to open old wounds. He stepped over to stand next to the shorter woman, looking out across the vast space of the bay. "Well, maybe we can save that for another time, when it is right to tell," he offered and glanced back at the ship landed behind them. "First ship?" he asked after a long moment of silence, hoping to change to a happier subject.
Thankful for the change of subject after the uncomfortable pause, Sienna looked back over her shoulder at the beat-up Jinsoku and nodded with a smirk. "Yeah, first ship," she replied proudly. "First one that's all mine, anyway. Like I said, got a lot of work to do, but it'll be worth it. I got a couple of leads on work already, I think. And the time it'll take me to get this bucket back up and running in good order will give me plenty of time to sort 'em out, see if they're worth chasing."
Oreza smiled as he looked at the ship. "First commands are always special," he mused. "I remember mine, old beat up and under powered frigate. Best ship I ever commanded," he chuckled. "I'm sure this old boat will take you far if you take care of her right", he said and turned to face the ship, taking in the ships lines, seeing the ship for what it really was. Not a battered up piece of metal and hardware and engines, but something more important. Freedom.
Sienna, hearing the distant, wistful tinge in Oreza's voice, slowly turned her eyes to the bigger man, a grin spreading across her face as she listened, clearly finding his nostalgic tone both endearing and amusing. And the way he looked at the ship was even more charming, in a strange way. It was like he didn't even notice that the ship was old or neglected, but could just see what it once was to someone. "Hey now, she's spoken for," she teased.
Oreeza's grin got wider. "Oh, I would never get between a Captain and her ship," the old sailor commented with a nod. "Give me the tour?" he asked.
"Psh," Sienna guffawed with a quiet snort. "Maybe later. I got too much work to do right now," she replied, motioning to the haphazard mess of debris. She looked back at Oreza with a smirk. "But if you're keen to make up for skipping out on me, you can start by giving me a hand dragging this crap over to the hauler bin."
"Alright," Oreza said, taking off his overcoat and setting it and his pipe aside. "Lets get to work, shall we?" he grinned and started picking up several chunks of scrap.
Docking Bay 9, Slip 31
The immense docking bays of an Amatsu-class spaceport were always an impressive and busy sight. A collossal open area, over a hundred meters top to bottom, lined on all sides by landing platforms and in the middle by gigantic support armatures and cranes for handling everything from the tiniest one-man patrol craft to massive frieghters and warships. They were always abuzz with the sounds of engines, power tools, and antigrav lifts shuttling crews and service personnel around like a swarm of busy insects. The Amatsu-Nova station in the Kohana Cloud was no exception today; although Docking Bay 9 was not currently housing any craft larger than a mid-size freighter, its various slips and landing platforms were filled nearly to capacity.
A large, squat-U-shaped drone with a towing fork hanging beneath it hummed through the air as it approached Slip 31, fixed against the wall opposite the huge bay's atmospheric shield, three levels up from the bottom of the bay. In its fork was fixed a rusted, empty yellow refuse bin, swinging and squeaking loudly every time the robotic drone made a course correction. It slowed its speed as it neared the edge of the landing platform, on which was landed a vaguely arbelos-shaped spacecraft sitting on squat struts. Its outer hull looked like it had seen better days; signs of patching were evident in several places, and its original factory paint was long gone. Micrometeorite impact craters marred the hull in some places, and an entire section of the upper hull in the stern above the engines had been removed, apparently recently, although judging by the fact that the missing plating sat intact just a few yards away, it would be fair to guess that whoever had done it had every intention of putting it back together once they had completed their intended task.
The drone clinked and whirred as it jerked to a hover, and ungracefully lowered the big waste container to the ground off of the vessel's port side with a loud clang, detached its towing fork, and sped off to perform the next task on its agenda. It was only a moment later that, from down a ramp extended from the beat-up vessel's underside down to the landing platform, a pair of heavy boots clomped down, attached to a set of legs in thick, loose-fitting work pants lined with pockets. Soon the legs revealed a feminine waist, and then finally the upper body, clad in a grease-stained black tank top, of the young woman as she ducked under the hull halfway down the ramp, peering out from under the ship with a slightly annoyed-looking curious expression at the racket. A welding mask, flipped upwards, was perched atop her head of short-cropped auburn hair, sweat glistening on her ruddy, burnt white skin as she descended the rest of the way down the ramp, running her heavy-gloved hand along the underside of the hull above her as some kind of guidance. She had a slender face, and narrow, all-seeing eyes, the kind that made one uneasy when they hovered on them for too long. She was tall for a woman, taller even than some men, in fact, and built with a lithe, athletic form. Pulling her gloves off, she drew a deep breath and wiped the beaded sweat from her forehead as her pair of greenish-brown eyes locked on the dropped refuse bin, shaking her head. "Guess you get the service you pay for," she muttered to no one in her breathy, coarse, yet vaguely alluring mezzo-soprano voice. When she'd been told that she could arrange for the waste she generated in restoring the bucket of bolts behind her to be picked up, she had apparently overlooked the fact that she herself would have to be the one to collect it into one place. Yet another thing to add to her growing list of things to do.
The young woman's slender face turned to her left, glancing towards a waist-high and ten-foot circumferenced pile of dirty towels, rusty and twisted metal gratings, undefinable insulation material, and shreds of the most heinously, inconceivably ugly green shag carpet she had ever seen in her life. Wrinkling her nose, she sighed as she glanced back at the empty collection container, a good forty feet from the pile, and she could tell by looking at it that it would be too heavy for her to push closer. With a small shrug, she turned and started to head back into the ship, pulling her welding gloves back on, but only made it a few steps before she realized that she probably only had a limited time before the drone would return to recollect the trash bin, whether it was full or not. Groaning, she turned back for the pile and shuffled towards it, removing her gloves once more just before pulling the welding mask off of her crown. Ruffling her dirty hair a little to let her scalp breathe, she tossed the mask and gloves to the side, and resolved to put aside tearing down the old ship's slagged hyperdrive -- again -- in order to get the refuse hauled away for the second time. She took a moment to survey the haphazard pile of junk she had painstakingly dragged piece by piece from the ship, deciding where to begin, before she grabbed hold of the corner of one of the larger scraps of horrid shag carpet and started to pull it down. The lean muscles in her arms pulled taut from the effort, she gritted her teeth and grunted as some larger chunks of debris came down with it, riding along on top of the rug fragment as she dragged it away.
She could only be annoyed for a few moments longer, however, until she turned to face the aging, and by the looks of it, barely spaceworthy little freight runner propped up on its stubby little struts behind her, and let a smile creep over her face. The ship looked like hell, and its previous owner had either had no idea what they were trying to accomplish in terms of interior decor, or were purposely trying to drive themselves mad with the most obnoxiously over-the-top color scheme one could possibly imagine. It was in terrible need of repairs and service, and had obviously been sitting exactly where it was for a long time now. It was a bucket of rusty bolts.
But it was her bucket of rusty bolts now. She smiled more broadly, feeling lighter all of a sudden. It had taken weeks to find a place that was willing to sell a starship she could both afford and have practical use for. But her diligence had finally paid off, and thanks to some clever negotiating and the sorry state that this one was in, she was financially going to come out far ahead of where she had originally expected. She had been free when she seized the opportunity that the Yamataians had given her to escape Urtullan. But now, once she could get her new prize in good working order, still more boundaries would collapse before her. She would be that much closer to being truly free.
Not too far off a man walked along the lonely and cold catwalks that connected some of the closer landing platforms to each other. He paused once and a while to lean against the rail and look out upon the collection of ships, all shapes and sizes and types, that inhabited the massive complex. He looked out wistfully, remembering the days when he had a ship of his own and then being reminded of the sorry state of his affairs as of late. He had become a long term resident of Amatsu-Nova space station some six months ago when his ship and little slice of the universe had finally given out, her main power core and drive systems burning out in one final and alarmingly catostrophic bang.
The man now spend much of his time hanging around the landing bays, watching ships come and go. He figured his times for adventure were nearly done, not that it was a bad thing. He had made plenty of money selling the remains of his old boat to afford a quiet and relatively comfortable life on Amatsu-Nova.
He had an old Calabash pipe, which he puffed away at as his eyes swept across the bay. It was large and distinctive in shape, the favorite of his small collection. His eyes stopped at some commotion below on the nearest platform. An old battered hulk of a ship, not too different from his old boat, sat there. Someone was working on her, bringing her back into running order it seemed with the collection of hardware and parts and a newly delivered rubbish bin scattered around the vessel. There was a woman down there, working on it, he saw her going at the pile of junk the can had been deposited for.
Something about the auburn mess of hair and the slender face. "All be damned," his deep voice said softly. He looked again, leaning against the rail a litle farther and this second look he knew what he had seen was correct. He pushed away from the railing and made his way casually along the walkway to a narrow and steep stair that took him down to the platform level.
"My my, do my old eyes decieve me, or is that Sienna Shelton I see on this farthest of outposts from home?" he stated. His voice was deep, almost craggy, He stood about thirty feet away, at the service access to the landing platform, arms folded across his chest. He stood some six foot four and while he was not overly muscular in build, he had an imposing presence, swarthy complexion, worn and scarred face, his black hair and thickly bearded loosing the battle with time, going gray at the temples and a few other places. Imposing until one got to his eyes,which held a light and sense of mirth too them, that and the smile broadening across his face.
Standing there was Oreza Dakkar, former Captain in the Nepleslian Star Navy and once long time friend of the Shelton family.
The young woman paused in her laborious debris-dragging and looked toward the source of the voice, her brow wrinkled in confusion when she heard her name. When she noticed the huge, bearded man with mighty-looking forearms folded across a barrel chest looking jovially back at her, she narrowed one eye and turned her head slightly, a hesitant look on her face. She was wary, but she couldn't deny that there was definitely some sense of familiarity about him. She looked back over her shoulder cursorily, as if to confirm to herself that this wasn't some wildly improbably coincidence, and that the man was indeed addressing her. Wiping her glistening brow with the back of her hand again, then swatting away some sweat that coursed down her neck and exposed collarbone, she let go of the pile of trash and turned to face the man.
"Sorry, but how do you..." she began, still with the hesitant look on her face. "Do I...?" Sienna knew she knew him from somewhere, but she couldn't piece together why or from where. After a short, awkward pause, a pang of recognition hit her like a speeding car, and her eyes lit up, her mouth dropped open. "Holy shit, Bear, is that you!?" she exclaimed.
"Sienna, I knew it was you!" Oreza grinned broadly and walked over, crossing the distance between them in several large strides. "How tall you have become since last I saw you." He had last seen her nearly a decade ago.
A disbelieving chuckle escaped Sienna as she folded her arms across her breast, shaking her head as she took stock of the large man approaching her from head to toe. Her nonchalance didn't hold for very long, however, and in seconds a broad grin broke through. "Yeah, well, eight years is a while," she replied. "Maybe not to you, though, ya withering old sack of crap. I dunno whether I wanna hug you or bust your nose for up and leaving without so much as a word."
"I think I will settle for the hug," Oreza replied, He felt a pang of regret for having left how he did, but the conflict between himself and Sienna's father had not allowed him time to say a proper goodbye to the girl. It was something that had weighed heavily on his heart for some many years. Any regret he felt was set aside at least for this moment, overcome by the joy of seeing the little girl he had treated as if she had been his own niece.
The grin on Sienna's face widened at Oreza's response. "Yeah, I bet," she replied, and beckoned him closer with a wave of her hand, striding towards him as well to close the gap before she stood on her toes and threw her arms around the big, hairy man's bull neck and squeezed. "How've you been? And how the hell did you wind up here of all places?"
Oreza wrapped his arms around the smaller woman, hugging her tight, he noted how stongly her arms squeezed around his neck, giving a hint to the physical strength Sienna now possesed. "Oh, I've been fine," he replied. "Just where I ended up when my luck ran out," he added in answer to her questions.
"What brings you out this way?" he asked, finally letting her go.
Sienna raised one eyebrow as they seperated, looking up at him quizzically. She started to say something, then after no more than a quarter of a syllable came out, she blinked and changed course with a slight shake of her head. "This old thing here," she replied, indicating the aged small freighter crouched on the landing pad with a thrust of her thumb over her shoulder, looking back fondly at it. "Had a helluva time finding one I could afford without jumping through too many Yamataian hoops, but I finally got me a ship of my own." She chuckled softly. "The hyperspace fold is toast, the hull's been patched in more places than I wanna think about, I gotta put every single relay manifold back in sync, the port cargo bay is full of green water, there's some kind of Yam robot sex bed where the escape pod should be that I don't wanna touch with a ten-foot pole, and whoever had it last had the single worst taste in decorating I've ever seen And that's just the most obvious stuff. I'm finding more and more stuff every time I climb back aboard.." She thumbed the side of her nose, smirking sardonically as she continued, shooting a sly look back at him. "But the price was right. After I scrap the hyperdrive, I bet I'll make the whole cost of the ship back. All it's gonna cost me is parts, maybe a little labor. The scrap dealers around here are clueless." Her satisfied smile faded quickly, however, and she gave the bearded man with a look of slight, concerned curiosity. "So what do you mean, 'your luck ran out?'" she asked him, putting her calloused hands on her hips as she changed the subject back to him.
"Oh nothing too bad," Oreza answered. "My old boat finally called it quits not far from here," he shrugged. "Main reactor fizzled and melted the FTL and sub light drives, and that was that," He did not mention how the meltdown of the nuclear powerplant had also burned away a large chunk of hull and required jettisoning of the entire engineering compartment and fuel tanks before everything else almost blew.
The dubious look on Sienna's face strengthened, her forehead wrinkling deeper as she watched up at him, listening. "Uh huh," she replied flatly, and folded her arms across her chest once again. "'Cause you had an amateur looking after it, no doubt," she added, the smirk returning slightly. "And now you're stuck here, by some twist of fate, running right across my path at exactly the right moment in an infinite universe. Some might call that kinda creepy, Bear," she concluded, giving him a sly wink before inhaling, letting her shoulders rise and fall before speaking again. "You gonna tell me why you really left back then?" she asked him, her voice changing from playful mocking to semi-distant wonder.
Oreza took a breath, he knew she would ask about it pretty quick. "Well, it is a complicated matter," he said. "Your father and I do not see eye to eye on certain matters", he began. "As you know I was in the Navy when you were a kid and Carson is a firm supporter of the Reds, who openly opposed the Navy," he paused, sorting his words carefully. He and Sienna's father had been childhood friends and even eight years later this was a sore subject for Oreza. "Well, for years he had taken opposition to my signing up for the military and had on many occasions tried to persuade me to resign and join the cause he and your mother had comitted themselves too. I could not do this. Carson and I were best of friends, but I could not turn my back on my country or my fellow soldiers, not for what the Reds stand for." He looked out at the vast hangar, at landed ships and others moving about. "We had an argument that last night, things were said on both sides that probably should not have been and I decided I should not come back until cooler heads could prevail. Your father stated that I should not return until I changed allegence and quit the navy." He glanced back at Sienna, a mix of regret and at a lost friendship and the determination of one who had stood fast to their beliefs on his face. "I don't ask your forgivness for leaving, just that you understand why I did what I had to do." He looked back away into the open space again, waiting for her response.
Her arms still folded, Sienna quietly listened to Drakkar's testimony, her expression for the most part blank. When he finished and looked away, she sighed quietly and tightened her lips, following his gaze temporarily out into the vast docking bay abuzz with activity. "I knew Carson had to be full of shit," she breathed. "Kind of insulting that he thought I'd believe you were arrested for human trafficking." She turned her eyes back on the big bearded man, her face sterner now. "But damn it, Bear," she said with more conviction, "you left us alone with them. We were kids. You just left us to get killed in someone else's war, over some dumbass ideology I didn't even understand." She held her eyes firmly on him, silently willing him to look back at her, an odd mix of anger tempered with understanding in her gaze. "I guess I can understand why you left, but didn't any of that cross your mind?"
Oreza's jaw tightened with anger at the mention of what Sienna's father had told them, but he forced his way pas that, he had known Carson would have made something up, just he had never expected something like that. But he knew Sienna had nothing to do with that, so being angry when the person responsible was not there got him nowhere.
He took a long slow breath composing himself. "I had to go, Sienna. I fought in that war, helped defend my country as best I could," he said. "Your father would not let me come back. When I tried to, to come see you and Jacob, your father would not have it. And with the war getting worse, my ability to even come back to Nepleslia.." He paused, composing himself for a moment. "I am sorry I was not there for you and your brother," he said, true regret in his voice. He looked back at her and he seemed much older and tireder than he had before.
Sienna simply held Oreza's eyes for a silent moment, arms folded, face expressionless, almost expectantly waiting for him to say something further. After a pause, however, her shoulders slumped slightly as she sighed, holding up her palm as she shook her head and looked away. "Ancient history anyway," she offered halfheartedly, then glanced sideways back at him, smirking weakly. With a single, sardonic chuckle, she shrugged once. "So. Here we are now."
"Here we are," he agreed, turning his eyes back towards Sienna. "You're out here with your starship, your parents I assume back home still. How about Jacob, he come out with you to adventure through space as well?" Oreza asked.
On his mention of her brother, Sienna's face twisted imperceptibly, and she cleared her throat all too obviously. "Yeah, the parents are 'home,' wherever the hell that is," she replied, looking away again, unfolding her arms and hooking her thumbs through her front belt loops as she tried to look nonchalant. "Left a long time ago, ain't been back since," she continued, taking a step out towards the edge of the platform. She gave him a quick, sidelong glance, then averted her eyes again. "Long story, actually." she added.
Oreza cought the change in her demeanor and knew he had hit a painful subject. He could only wonder what had happened since he had left, what Sienna and her family had gone through, obviously it had not been good. He also knew the open space of the hangar bay was not the appropriate place to open old wounds. He stepped over to stand next to the shorter woman, looking out across the vast space of the bay. "Well, maybe we can save that for another time, when it is right to tell," he offered and glanced back at the ship landed behind them. "First ship?" he asked after a long moment of silence, hoping to change to a happier subject.
Thankful for the change of subject after the uncomfortable pause, Sienna looked back over her shoulder at the beat-up Jinsoku and nodded with a smirk. "Yeah, first ship," she replied proudly. "First one that's all mine, anyway. Like I said, got a lot of work to do, but it'll be worth it. I got a couple of leads on work already, I think. And the time it'll take me to get this bucket back up and running in good order will give me plenty of time to sort 'em out, see if they're worth chasing."
Oreza smiled as he looked at the ship. "First commands are always special," he mused. "I remember mine, old beat up and under powered frigate. Best ship I ever commanded," he chuckled. "I'm sure this old boat will take you far if you take care of her right", he said and turned to face the ship, taking in the ships lines, seeing the ship for what it really was. Not a battered up piece of metal and hardware and engines, but something more important. Freedom.
Sienna, hearing the distant, wistful tinge in Oreza's voice, slowly turned her eyes to the bigger man, a grin spreading across her face as she listened, clearly finding his nostalgic tone both endearing and amusing. And the way he looked at the ship was even more charming, in a strange way. It was like he didn't even notice that the ship was old or neglected, but could just see what it once was to someone. "Hey now, she's spoken for," she teased.
Oreeza's grin got wider. "Oh, I would never get between a Captain and her ship," the old sailor commented with a nod. "Give me the tour?" he asked.
"Psh," Sienna guffawed with a quiet snort. "Maybe later. I got too much work to do right now," she replied, motioning to the haphazard mess of debris. She looked back at Oreza with a smirk. "But if you're keen to make up for skipping out on me, you can start by giving me a hand dragging this crap over to the hauler bin."
"Alright," Oreza said, taking off his overcoat and setting it and his pipe aside. "Lets get to work, shall we?" he grinned and started picking up several chunks of scrap.
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