Ethan was strapped in one of the many seats. "Because. I don't trust him here. He could blurt out something that I told him to those agents." Khalon made the straps snug. "This baby hasn't run in... Who knows how long so I suggest you take a seat." Second comment ignored. He weaved around the secured boxes and items of supplies and disappeared into the cockpit door. Before Simon could get to the cockpit Khalon reappeared with three suits in his hands. "This might be a bit snug on you, but its better than wearing nothing. Gravity-suits. Keeps blood where its supposed to be."

Khalon tossed the suit at Simon. Simon caught it as best as he could, juggling crutches and his balance. "Ack!"

"Sorry there." Khalon went over to the unconscious Ethan. He began to entrap him from the seat. "You'll wounds won't make you bleed to death, don't worry." A bit melancholy. "I got your wounds sealed."

Simon grunted. He sat down on a small crate and unzipped the back of the suit. "Sealed with these... bandages?"

Khalon caught Ethan before he fell forward limply out of the five-point buckled seat. He was layed on the floor. "No. Plastic compound that bonds con-vienently to skin."

Simon quirked a brow and waddled one leg into the tight pant leg of the suit. "Interesting. So you hot-glued my wounds closed?"

Khalon worked Ethan's legs into the suit. Confused look. "Uhh... hot glued?"

Simon looked up. For a moment he forgot he was talking to an alien. Aliens most likely wouldn't have cheap craft-making glue guns, unless they were very... diverse. "Yeah. Sortof of like... welding, except the bonds just, well, suck."

"Ah."

After Khalon had gotten Ethan's suit on and strapped back in, and Simon got his on despite the bandage, Khalon put his on. His fit seemingly perfectly. Almost too perfectly. Though Simon had trouble getting his on, it shouldn't have been too hard with the bandage.. But Khalon's? He then noticed the name tagged on the suit - Allo. Thoughts rushing back with memories, and slight anger - the video; the punch marks in Allo's room; how much he cared for that wonderful role model now...

Simon hobbled close behind, entering quickly, then looking up and stopping. The whole cabin was accented with chrome. Yes, chrome. Chrome buttons, switches, bordering, dashboard, controls, and helmets strapped to the chairs. Chrome. Ok - get sort of abducted by aliens, escape from Government compound, get chased, and end up here. With an alien. In an alien outpost, in an alien ship.

"You guys got style."

Khalon just smirked for a moment. He was deep in thought, and an angry looked presided over that forced smirk. Allo's G-suit was in this craft? Why? Escaped, possibly. But Allo knows the Dinosaucer protocol through-and-through. Supposed to be one of the best learned and skilled. Or was that just another one of Reptilian's many lies? ...To the left of the entrance was a seat with several screens, unlit, and numerous switches and a keyboard. On the opposite side was three seats; two seats were facing forward while the other faced the wall. The instrumentation was almost identical to the opposite side.

Simon sat shotgun with Khalon on the right seat. Khalon buckled the five point harness, Simon mimicking quickly. Though Simon was in a sort of surreal feel, he was rushing at the least. The crutches were placed underneath the dashboard on the floor. Khalon pressed a few buttons and the craft wined to life. The instrumentation panel flickered on and a HUD displayed on the sleek cockpit glass. Another button was pressed and the controls moved forward in reach of Khalon. Simon's stayed folded up against the ceiling. "You know how to drive this thing?"

Khalon pressed a holographic button on the control panel and the external doors on the cockpit window rolled and folded away. "Yes. This is a step below the new generation craft. Been trained on both." Like Allo? Allo. He did leave as evidence of that videodisk - and Khalon remembered, the videodisk was in his pocket. A second button was pressed, and then a third. The doors to the hanger jolted and opened - rust flaking down all around the hinges and seams - and a message displayed along the bottom of the HUD. "That means the cloaking device is on. Supposedly we're now invisible to NORAD and other tracking devices."

Khalon directed the ship up and out of the hangar doors. The sleek black ship slipped off into the sunlit sky. The hangar doors closed behind the trio. Something suddenly sounded; possibly a warning of some kind. Khalon pressed the flashing button on the holographic HUD. It flashed to a wide-view of the surrounding state of Colorado. Blips. "Not good."

"What?"

Before Khalon could respond, a stern voice interrupted out of nowhere - "Unidentified aircraft 2A77, report yourself immediately. You are flying in a restricted zone." Flight speaker overhead.

"Great!" Khalon slipped on the helment/headseat hanging from the seat, with one hand, and adjusted the microphone. The v-hud screen was flipped downwards. A screen of green lines and numbers flashed in the transparent glass, merging with a picture of the peripheral view of the ship. As if he was flying out in the air. Information flashed - one corner where coordinates should be, but now just dashes; a 3-d vector of the terrain. He grunted. "Dangit. I wish you were trained in this."

Simon slipped on the helmet hanging from his seat. A little too big but it fit. The v-hud screen was already flipped down and was already processing information. "Trained in what? -Oh." The mass of numbers and coordinates and maps and radars were definitely an eyesore. He flipped it up. "Gosh how can you manage flying one of these things?"

Khalon scanned his v-hud. "I can't. That's why there's four seats in here. Dang Dinosaucers deep space war-class ships." He pressed a button on the control. "This is aircraft - uh, 2A77 -" The number was flashing in the upper left corner. Great. Didn't turn off the broadcast signal. "We're just taking a little-"

Radio fuzz, then the voice. Hasty and interrupting. "2A77, you will be escorted down to the ground. Follow instructions promptly or be elimated."

A second voice came over the intercepting intercom. Simon's v-hud flashed and he pulled it down. The voice over the intercom came out from the speaker in the cabin. "What is that thing? A UFO?"

Simon blinked. His vision was suddenly transformed to some type of deep-field map, instead of the other confusion. Almost like he was looking at the center counsel map at an angle. Four angry-looking red blips appeared on the edges of the perceived map. Wasn't sure what they were, but they definitely didn't look friendly. "Uh... Khalon. Four blip things on that map? You see it?"

Khalon was pressing buttons on the tangible dashboard. On his v-hud a virtual keyboard flipped up. To Simon it looked like he was pressing and flipping switches in thin air. "Ok good, your map is working. Your now officially... Navigator. All you gotta do is tell me when and where those red blips - bogies - come up. Just forward the information of those red bogies by pressing the green button on your screen."

Khalon flipped a virtual switch. The broadcast signal cut off.

Radio silence for a moment. "The UFO's gone!"

"No it isn't. I see it. That blip."

The fuzz noise indicated switching channels. "2A77 do you copy?"

Khalon responded promptly. "I copy but cannot follow through."

"2A77, you will follow orders or be elimated." Oh, hasty. He used will.

The fighter-jet objects were gaining on the map. Simon swallowed the knot in his throat. "They're gaining on us! Do something quick!"

Khalon pressed a virtual button. His movements were almost machine-like and yet cool and calm. Coordinates flashed. "They're over a thousand miles away. We got time."

Click, fuzz. "2A77 you will follow orders. Do you copy?"

Khalon jerked on the controls and pushed forward. Both Khalon and Simon were shoved forcefully in their seats as the craft sped off. Khalon almost forgot what it was like to experience high velocity - glad those five point belts and G-suit still worked. Khalon flipped a few controls and pressed a few buttons. "Setting course for Moonbase."

"Uh. Khalon." Simon. Urgent.

Khalon looked over. "What?"

"They're coming faster... some numbers on the screen, 600 - Well, was 600. Now its 575."

"Crap. Hang on - and press that green button."

The craft suddenly jolted again and was directed up towards the sky. The sun peered out from the edges of the extending sides of the craft. The craft was shaped like some wicked two-pointed blade. The sudden shift of position caused Simon to gasp. "Gah!"

"Simon, hit the green button! I need to know where they are!"

Simon, frustrated and confused. "Wha- Where?"

Khalon leaned over and pointed. He muttered under his breath. "Dang humans. No better than Allo..." Through the transparent glass of Simon's v-hud he could see his claw pointing at it. Strangely, precisely where it was. Simon pressed it after he realized that Khalon's hand moved through it on his v-hud. "How'd you know...?"

"Ok. Lets see..." Khalon busied himself with something on his virtual keyboard. Simon's screen flashed and came to the same view that Khalon saw. The holographic images of the map on the central consol flickered on. "I knew it was there because I've trained with this frickin' equipment through-and-through." He pressed a few buttons on the dashboard. A little rough... Thoughts momentarily raced through his mind with a flash of anger. Allo. Flying this machine right where he was seating. "-Ok, now its on half-autopilot. I just control the ship and the map coordinates come up over there - I know every post of a Dinosaucer ship by heart. Drugs they used to open up the pathways to memory retention worked well, so it seems. Heckuva hangover though."

Simon was caught off guard once again. V-hud switched, and those numbers and jumbled of confusion now seemed to interest him greatly. Like he knew how to translate those radars, and maps, and numbers - only he wished he could. "Hey! I was getting the hang of it... uh. What did those red blips mean again?"

Khalon didn't look. He was adjusting some instruments on the control panel with one hand while flying with the other. Both hanging controls were in one hand. "Those, bogies."

Radio. "2A77 you will be escorted by seven aircraft."

Simon: "There's an eighth!"

Khalon responded over the radio. "Explain the eighth and we might have a deal."

Radio silence. Then the radio wined and buzzed. Channel switch. "Bounty hunter to Tiger, did you fire that missile at 2A77? Don't tell me you did, Hunter!"

A volley of cursing came from the channel. Other men. Yelling, then Khalon responded in a flight of provocation. "Bounty Hunter - Hah, what a cute codename."

No response. A playful smile found itself on Khalon's face. Instinct suddenly kicked in and he jerked the controls - drilled lesson plans from simulators and real-time flying replaced this new situation he had never come across. His hands seemed to automatically know what they were doing from constant drilling of practice. Its like he was two persons - one taking in the situation from a logical standpoint, very surprised; and the other the old, angry, cursing Dinosaucer fighter. As if he had two natures pitting themselves against each other. As if he was both raptor and allosaurus - half-breed.

Earthlings versus an ex-Dinosaucer... first time the two have made hostile contact. Wouldn't matter if he killed a few? Well... If he was really decommissioned, or presumed dead, Reptilian laws and protocols didn't affect him - or did they? What about the Council of Species? They made some galactic rulings. No contact with humans, period. No sightseeing. No practical jokes. And then the ruling about human genetic testing... The Sabertooths left the Council after that one argument. Seemed to have known something everyone else didn't. Hinted at a Darien behind those rumored experiments - then being escorted by their own kind quickly out of the building. Wait - Darien? How did they find out?

Warning light flashed and bleeped loudly. The eighth red blip raced closer. Reality hit Khalon and he jerked the controls again. The two were plastered in their seats as the craft did an angled turn, downwards of ship facing outward - except the ship was now traveling backwards. The eerie blue glow of the endings cast itself to the leftmost and rightmost of the two's vision. Simon peered to the left and right at the engine particle trail - seeing the engines turned around in the short wings. He jumped in surprise at the surrounding view. Trees and mountains of the area were going the wrong direction. Then it sunk it - the craft was traveling backwards.

Simon gripped the arms of his chair and stared at the radar. It was as if he was in some terrible rollercoaster - except his life was really at risk, and risk of dying a horrible death. The eighth object rushed twice as fast as the fighter-jets and it was dangerously close. He could barely make out a "...Khalon!"

The eigth object came into view on their screens. The v-hud targeted a green outline on it and flashed a circle around it. Other warnings flashed on screen. 300. 250. 200.

"...Khalon!"

150. 100. Critical range. Move now or die, yelled the warning lights. 50.

And at the last possible moment, Khalon jerked the controls and sent the craft into a downward dive. Blood rushed, adrenaline spiked. The suits clicked and pressed on their chests to keep too much blood from going to the wrong parts of the body. Khalon developed an impish grin - as if the liked the rush of blood and adrenaline, the slight queasy feeling of a head rush in the face of a harrowing death. Simon looked over with an opposite expression. It was as if Khalon was at home, reading his favorite book - or whatever Reptilians do when they got time. Or mebbe they traded books for missiles and golf for ships, and enjoyed cat-and-mouse games every bit more of it than those old pastimes? Death and destruction - what a nice thing to enjoy. And what more, technology to assist you in it. Oh joy. The missile's rocket trail flashed across the front window. 50; 100; 150 - the v-hud continued to track the missile's movements. Khalon pulled up to avoid crashing into the trees on the ground and avoided disaster. Except for the few half-dozen trees he took out with the left and right wing of the craft.

"Good. Sturdy beast, she is."

Simon caught a breath. "Khalon...! Not to intrude on you, since your a really powerful alien and all, but can we just go up out of earth!"

Simon's desperate comment reminded Khalon that he had a cargo, a mission, and unanswered questions about Allo and Darien. The angry and blood-lusting introverted raptor instinct seemed to magically wax away in the face of reality. "Oh - yeah. Good idea."

Khalon pulled down on the controls and the ship veered upwards. They were making a steady ascent. Khalon nudged the touch-pad throttle control on the flight controls and the ship hastened its movements. The missle had disappeared off screen, surprisingly. In fact, it was no where to be found. The group of fighter jets were just a meager group of blips now and radio silence commenced. Must've changed channels.

Simon rested his legs up against the retracted foot pedals. His side of the cockpit was not engaged so all flight controls were inactive. He was gripping the edges of his seat and staring at the radar. "Are they gone?"

Khalon had relaxed, and was now toying with the strafe foot pedal controls a bit. But a strange but dark thoughtful expression cast itself over his features. "Mmm yeah."

"You sure?"

Khalon effortlessly reached over and pressed a button on the dashboard. "Yeah. Stop worrying about it." The smooth metallic plating along the sides of the spacious cockpit suddenly glowed to life as a picture infused with the window. It was a full 360 degree view of their surroundings. Which, in fact, were quite stunning. A vast array of the earth's outer reaches of its atmosphere filled the cockpit. The sun was shining brightly and stars were becoming visible as blue faded away into the blackness of space.

And the two were enveloped at the dazzling array of space - brilliant colors of blue, white, red, and yellow dotted the millions upon millions of stars; the moon hovering vacantly and the sun brightly streaming its steady glow across the solar system. It was as if those stars were some façade, a background; and that moon suspended by wires, and the sun a large globe. Distance and lack of perspective - with a knowledge of actualy distance, but unable to fathom it - almost spun Simon in a vertigo. Luckily he was strapped into a solid chair, bolted to the floor of the solid craft. Nevertheless, the surrounding view took Simon's breath away and made him feel as if he was floating. Almost.

Khalon, though, took one glance over to Simon and looked straight out again. A momentary stolen glance at the moon though. "You've seen this before, right?"

Simon didn't respond. Khalon looked over and observed the human's awed perplexion and said, "You humans need to get out." Bitter overtones.

But Simon didn't recognize the alien's comment. Earth began to shrink away. It became as small as the moon was just a few moments ago, shifting to Simon's right as the craft's course was adverted. Reality struck him - He sighed coldly and bit his lower lip. "Goodbye, Earth."

Khalon grunted softly. "Ok. Don't cry. If you do then..." Another grunt. "I don't know what I'm gonna do with you. Not that I do already."

Simon watched the blue orb shrink away. Human did a surprising thing out of the blue. Human glared at Khalon. "Ok, I just left Earth and I don't know if I'm going to ever go-"

Khalon finished his sentence. "Back? Back! Never." He glanced over to check Simon's reaction. A look of depravity from the human. "Human. I've been away from my planet for... who knows how long? I don't care about it anymore. Heck, it was never my planet anyway. Just some political dump of a motherland. More like a mother load of waste. Kinda like how your planet is, except people on my planet are so blinded that they'll even lay down their lives for the government. Just for the sole purpose of their... " Khalon added, as if quoting some pamphlet. "Heritage, honor, dignity, loyalty. Join today and get a free wad of credits to stuff your mouths with!"

Simon looked out the window again, watching the earth fade away. Khalon glanced over, and pressed a switch. Soon Simon was merely looking into his own reflection in the brushed metal paneling; Khalon had turned off the surrounding view. Of Simon's home solar system. And his home planet. "Turn it back on."

Khalon shook his head. "Get over it."

With that, the craft took off quickly into space. Simon closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Khalon kept looking forward, face stern.

Simon silently rested in the chair while gazing out at the aura of space, and Khalon set the craft on autopilot and familiarized himself with the cabin and the controls even more. Not a sound was heard from Ethan in the back. Up in the mistakenly near distance Mars loomed. The red planet grew closer, and yet closer, and passed rather quickly. The engines had died down and the craft moved due to the perpetual thrust, and all that was left was the quiet hum of the craft's interior computers and systems. The map of the craft flickered when Mars drew near, and returned to its two-dimensional flat plane of the nearby area.

Khalon was rummaging through the various panels of the cockpit interior. Simon looked over his shoulder oddly and frowned. The bare panels and simple controls seemed a bit too simple to be so interesting . Khalon caught the look, and commented idly as the map identified the asteroid belt surrounding the inner planets. "We're in uncharted area."

Simon looked back after a minute. "What?"

"Uncharted," Khalon offered quickly. "This area is restricted up to Pluto. No use for charted area if its useless."

Silence for a moment. Simon looked out the projections and the window as asteroids passed by. He crossed his arms and adjusted his position.

The craft automatically adjusted course every so often when a large asteroid got in the path. All swift and silent, engines rising and falling in time. "Earth area is restricted because..." Khalon sat down in the seat facing the rightmost wall by the door. "There were already enough sightings by those humans. You know - Hubble? Apparently that thing had caught several pictures of our craft after the Dinosaucers left. We were just monitoring activity for the time being until the case with David and Sarah went missing closed."

"Oh." The Milky Way was slowly growing in size. Simon kept his gaze on it in wonder. "My kind?"

Khalon looked over from the controls where he sat. "Well, yeah. Your still a human. Only one to leave in many, many years time." A pause. Mutter: "Thank heavens."

"Ok what's with you? You seem to take a hate to me or something."

Khalon shrugged and adjusted a few dials and switches. A small screen indicated radio levels and signal strengths. Nothing as of the moment. "Your one of the first of your kind, then."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"First human I've talked with besides Ethan. About knocked him halfway to Jupiter but I restrained myself. If I did that, which would probably solve a lot of my problems." A contemplative pause. He sighed and corrected himself. "No wait, it would mess things up, more than they already are."

Simon leaned on the left armrest and leaned over. He stared at Khalon. "You seem lively. Why the change?"

"Hate to kill my first impression, but too late." Khalon slapped a cover closed on some control. "You should be glad I abducted you, and even more glad that I haven't stowed you back there with Mister wanted-by-someone. Gets kinda grungy in tight spaces of cargo holds. Trust me."

"You didn't' abduct me, alien." Smack. Khalon quirked a brow - surprised to hear that come from such a small, thin individual. That brought a smirk. " I chose to go. Remember?"

"Then why the forlorn face? I half-expected you to start weeping the moment you locked eyes with that blue planet. Well, for the last time at least."

Khalon's tone projected his agitation. Simon just sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. Khalon walked over to his chair and grinned sadistically. "Please. You should be glad I have spared you. I could crush your measly bones easily."

Simon tensed. In all reality that was very, very true. He glanced over to the alien's large disposition - but tried to play it cool. But something else besides trying to hide his fear struck a chord in Simon's face. "Being the son of a murderer probably makes you feel all the better now, hmm? And a half-breed. Makes you feel wanted, hmm?"

Khalon looked off. "Hah, yeah. Loved. What a human-concept. Rejection isn't so bad, its got its perks. You don't have to deal with stupid idiots that hate you, and if they kick you out then you got excuse to join up with some Resistance, who in fact are probably a bunch of idiots just as much as Reptilian is. Fools."

"So its all about hate, huh? Thousands of eons and flying into space, and you people don't change. Gosh can't you people advance even on bare-level stuff?"

"No. And we're not 'people'. We're diverse, at least more diverse than Humans. You gotta know the different sub-cultures to get it. Human."

"Oh I know subculture. I'm what the government calls a 'small threat'. I'm no better off than a forgotten person in a prison - where I should be technically, but for whatever reason they spared me. So I am a sub-culture."

"As am I. Half-breed." Khalon caught himself up short - and he realized something. Though they were from different planets, different cultures, different families - and despite the fact that Khalon feels that this human may get irritating after all - they were, strangely, similar. The same. In a nutshell, rejects to society. But no. Not same. Stupid human. He responded to his thoughts aloud. "Yeah whatever."

Simon was watching Khalon intently. "Yes. Now that we have some common ground at least we can advance here. Without that Reptilian, without those Dinosaucers, without your old life. Without Allo."

Khalon's look of sternness returned as he sat down in his seat. Slouched, with same expression as before. "Could care less. Thank you, goodnight."

"Why? He conceived you. Without him you wouldn't exist. Without him you wouldn't be here, talking to some human." Simon recalled idolization. "Without him, you wouldn't have a reason to be living."

Khalon forced a sigh. "Like I said: Could. Care. Less. There's my answer, now drop it before I-"

"Allo wouldn't have dropped it. Right? Leader of a team. Just like you were."

Khalon's claws dug into the padding on the arm rests. "Shut it human!" Khalon growled and the viens on his forehead popped out as he yelled. "Allo is a worthless piece of trash! A nothing! I wish he would have died, so I wouldn't be existing now!"

"Really." Simon was definitely onto something. "Then you wouldn't be here, talking to me, wouldn't be trying to decide what to do about Ethan, and me, and where we are going to, and what to do about this implant... And this information you have. Remind me again why you think this implant is so valuable? Why didn't' you leave it on earth?"

"Because its a nice trophy. A memento to remind me about how much I hate your kind and Allo and all those stupid fools that exist in this universe."

Simon fidgeted a moment, but continued nevertheless. "You said something about a Darien mebbe being behind this all, and Allo said something about everyone on Earth is going to die. And some kind of chip being used with genetic testing and something being behind it all. And how humans are a more reasonable step to use with the testing since their DNA is less complex than a Reptilian's."

"Yeah I see where you are going, so what, Sarah and David could've been those test subjects. Care less."

Simon suddenly looked over. "What?"

Khalon glanced over and crossed his arms. He continued looking forward. "What about what?"

"Sarah and David were taken by Tyrranos right?"

"Supposedly and Allo was most likely not killed as the Reptilian government suggested kindly, and more likely as a Reptilian test subject. So yes."

Simon blinked. "Woah. Is there something I'm missing that you haven't told me?"

Khalon shrugged. Still broody. "Mebbe. But what does it matter to you? Not like it affects you or anything. At least, you don't care most likely." Hopefully not care. So he wouldn't badger him with wherever the heck Simon was going. He closed his eyes and yawned. "Well then I'm off to sleep."

"It matters to me because you got an inter-galactic problem on your hands." Khalon leaned his cockpit seat back a little and continued crossing his arms. But no response. "Khalon. You know about all this. You gotta do something about it!"

"No, not me. Why should I help them all? What has the universe done for me besides dumping me to be an orphan, mixing up my blood with a raptor, and ruining my life?"

Simon frowned. "Are you the only one who knows about this?"

Khalon shrugged his shoulders. "The Resistance has some leads."

"Well, then, explain your case to them. They must have enough influence somewhere."

Khalon further adjusted his position. "They're powerless against the Reptilian regime. And I agree with Allo on one thing, that everyone is going to die."

"No they're not. You can do something about it."

"I'm merely one person out of the trillions of life forms in this galaxy. What am I gonna do about it? No wait, I know. Mebbe persuade them to dance with me, yes! And mebbe I can make them do that ridiculous-looking thing you humans call the Macarena."

"You said something about some outpost with Resistance people in it. Why not start there? Is it close to earth?"

"Beyond the outer reaches of this solar system. But they won't listen to this hogwash. They only care about their irrational and shallow ideas, for a cause that this entire race of Reptilians have been wanting - freedom. Too bad they're living a lie."

"Just like you were. So thus you're no better than them."

"I'm still just one person. Out of trillions. Let them deal with the Reptilian government, and I'll just disappear and go far away from this bunch." Khalon crossed his arms and snuggled down in the seat. "Mebbe I could find out where the Lost Colony went. And when I do find them, I'll join them. Gotta love governmental failures in a government that tries to look important and perfect."

"Lost Colony?"

"Supposedly abducted individuals and those of lesser social ranking were sent there. But the last cargo ship was sent a decade ago. Lost contact shortly there-after, and never heard or seen of them since. Hurray for another poorly monitored situation. Countless lives lost once again."

Silence settled over the two. Spurts of dust and debris passed by every so often, most likely lingering debris from some planet blasted to bits, or mebbe some deceased outer ring of some planet. Khalon's expression turned to a sort of forced-neutral as he intentionally ignored the scenery. It was obvious something was being contained by his dark flesh - his jaw was set, his eyes shut hard, breathing unusually steady. As for Simon, he continued to gaze out his window. As a last resort to possibly connecting with the creature, he offered some sentimentality: "Well... Ahh. It's going to be odd not being home. At my home planet. I bet I'm going to almost miss my cramped living space... And those stern faces of guards and working personnel. And that one girl who works in the cafeteria." Simon glanced over to Khalon. "Do you miss home?"

Khalon bluntly replied without hesitation. "No."

The intermittent clouds of dust began to disperse, replaced by what was always there: space. And lots of it. Stars of many colors dot the sky. Wisps of bright colors dot the Milky Way's existence and permeate the void. Perspective fades away under the gigantic proportions, where distances are measured not in miniscule millimeters, inches, meters, yards, or even miles; but light-years - the distance light travels in one 365 day year, or 5,878,640,000,000,000 miles. Strange for the extraterrestrial, alien craft to designate distance in this meter - the main counsel screen flickering both in English and Reptilian as the distance showed significant change. The red circular blips on the screen detailed exactly from what - Neptune, closest object of the eternal night sky. Its teal blue surface was surprisingly bright for its distance from the sun - of which the sun exists as a mere bright spot.

But whatever the distance, from wherever, Khalon seemed to care less. He continued to lay back in his position in the chair, peeking at the main counsel screen every now and then. Simon was gazing at Neptune. The craft was close enough to observe the large darkened storm cloud, but not close enough for more detail. Apparently Neptune wasn't the destination Khalon had in mind; the main counsel beeped twice as new coordinates and information came into the screen. Simon could tell the craft adjusted course from being lightly shoved to the side in his seat. The beep and the shift cause him to come to the alert...

"Ok. Finally." He leaned forward and typed a command into the virtual keyboard. The map shifted to a wider view. An object appeared on the fringes of the map. " 'Quaoar' , as you humans call it."

Simon was mesmerized by Neptune. He didn't respond. "Or 'Klaedon-15', or Moonbase, as my kind calls it. Former mining colony and now trading outpost."

The word 'Moonbase' caught Simon's attention. "Wait - what? We're there already?"

"Just about. Turns out we got enoug fuel to use the afterburners on the engines. The engines on this piece of crap need some tuning... instead of normal fusion activity its just using the engines like a big gasoline tank that doesn't fill back up."

Their approach had indeed quickened when the craft adjusted its pace. The Moonbase appeared rather quickly, growing steadily from its small grey shape. Neptune passed away behind the view of the craft. And suddenly:

"Dinosaucer craft 2A77, en-route to Moonbase flight territory. Do you copy?" Of course, not in English.

Khalon pressed a button on the control panel. A computerized Reptilian voice relayed. "This is 2A77, copy that. Requesting permission to board."

"Permission granted 2A77. You will dock at CX-4."

Khalon frowned slightly. He spoke in English to himself. "Well then. I didn't know a Resistance-owned outpost housed Tyrranos accented individuals." He checked for the pistol at his side - and remembered the weapons were in the rear stow. With Ethan.

Khalon slowed the ship down to a safe descent to the approaching trading post. The shape of the Moonbase was actually not as the name implied - it was much wider than it was tall, and had many thin levels protruding from its circumference. On the top of the station was a flat protrusion, possibly some kind of control tower. Light shone outward from a row of four docking stations. Above each rectangular opening were painted bright letters in Reptilian: "CX-1, CX-2, CX-3, CX-4". It was apparent that these were new labels; old chipped and faded paint lied behind the new paint. The ship's landing was rather rough, but assuring - the sound of latches promised security.

Khalon powered the ship down, seemingly not noticing the information present on the screen, Must be from the Moonbase. The outline of the trading post was the background to the information - the info must be rules, regulations, or whatnot. Khalon slipped out of his five point harness and went to the back. Simon peered out into the spacious loading bay before he fumbled to get his harness off. He looked up again, noticing the peoples present. Some looked similar to Khalon - tall, big looking, a long tail, snout, and short neck, as opposed to a few others; one was a triceratops, and the other was a brachiosaur. The others were ones Simon couldn't pick out. But what is who wasn't his main concern at the moment - it was Khalon.

"-What - wait up!"

Khalon was already out of his space-suit. He sported his banged and half-corroded light armor, with torn pants and old combat boots. Around his waist was his belt, with small pouches; and over his shoulder slung the rifle. Ethan hung loosely in his seat. "Good," Khalon said. He almost opened the cargo door, but quickly changed his mind. He went to the small door in the side of the room and exited. Before he opened the door, though, the anthrosaur explained himself.

"Stay here, keep down, and be quiet. This shouldn't take long."

Simon rested on a crate. Surprisingly, the metal container was still strapped to the floor. "Going to talk to the-"

"-Get help for the engines, yes. It won't take long." And he was off.

The distance to the ground wasn't that far; the landing gear's suspention was retracted as much as possible. Not to mention the latching mechanichism wasn't flush with the floor. He jumped down and continued on his merry way. Eyes followed him - strange looks, from the Dinosaucer deep-space class ship, to his armor, his dilapidated clothing, and his bandaged leg.