"On your feet, Haxx," Vult ordered, keeping his eyes on Tak, turning his attention back to her. "Now…Janitorial Drone, stop resisting and come quietly."

"You offer mercy, thinking you have the upper hand after I nearly killed all of you?" She unbelievably spoke, watching Aero and Haxx to ensure they weren't trying to flank her. "You must be really dense, as well as whomever sent you after me!"

"That would be the Almighty Tallest, Drone," Vult continued, losing his patience, "now…stop resisting before we are forced to take drastic measures."

"Do tell of these drastic measures. What kind of plan to you have against combating an Invader?" She confidently challenged, still furious at their presence, "if anyone is to offer warnings, it will be me. Leave before I kill you…now. You may simply be doing your job, but this isn't worth your life."

"Neither is your abandonment of your post. You are not an Invader; you're assigned as a Janitorial Drone by the Aramda, that is your profession."

"The day I accept that as my assignment is the day I die!" Tak exclaimed defiantly, disgusted with the idea, "I was wrongfully denied my true calling, the very reason why I've abandoned, the very reason why I'm willing to kill fellow Irken who get in my way. Now…leave me be or pay the consequences."

Vult could tell that he was dealing with something more than just a Drone, but it mattered not. He had a job to do, and he wasn't going to let her prevent him from doing that.
"Regulations are regulations, Drone," Vult calmly stated, brandishing restraints, tossing a pair to both Aero and Haxx. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way. You're not dealing with Irken Armada regulars, and if provoked, we will shoot to kill. Don't force my hand."

"For the last time, I'm an INVADER!!!" Tak angrily exclaimed, eye twitching with rage. "Drones aren't masters of Irken engineering! Drones don't have SIR units! Drones aren't assigned Invader equipment! Try if you must, but I assure you that you will die on this frozen rock if you don't leave me and go about your way."

"At least I know I tried to complete my mission if I do," he stated without hesitation, truly dedicated. She had to at least respect him for that much, but it wasn't going to save him if he decided to follow through with his orders, "dead or alive, you're going back to Dirt."

"Preferably alive," Haxx added, recovering his rifle, and placing the sights on Tak, "…dead weight is rather heavy to lug around, you look kinda on the heavy side."

"Haxx, shut your i'kveda mouth," Aero pressed in a hushed tone in the remnants of her commlink in her helmet, "she's already aggravated as it is, don't instigate her."

Tak's building rage, as well as instinct to evade and survive, grew to the boiling point, finally erupted over as she snapped. She let loose a battle cry like she did before, quickly approaching on her high-mobility, arachnid like legs that sprouted from her PAK.

"Take her down!" Vult ordered in reaction, preparing for her assault. He jumped backwards just in time to narrowly avoid yet another strike with the points of the legs. The Commander retaliated with a slice of his own from his plasma blade, sending Tak peddling backwards in defense as it made a moderate gash across her midsection, cauterizing the wound in the process. Just like the plasma burn in her shoulder, it seemed to only add fuel to the fires of retaliation.

Aero leapt from Tak's left flank, attempting to catch her off guard and incapacitate her. The rogue Irken was aware of her intentions, wheeling around in retaliation, and using the momentum to catch her cleanly across the face with a PAK leg in mid-air. The tall female twirled in the air before crashing to the ground from the counter-attack. Caught up in her momentary triumph over Aero, Haxx surprised Tak by latching onto her back from behind, wrapping his arms and legs around her in an attempt to subdue her.

She let out a renewed howl of anger as she struggled against the restraining hold, flailing about to force him free.

"Get off of me!!!" She exclaimed, unable to move her arms from against her body.

"Looks like someone needs a time out," Haxx jested from his current position, looking over his shoulder at Vult and Aero, "all she needed was a hug to calm her down after all."

Growing tiresome of his meddling, Tak placed a hand beneath her PAK, the sensor automatically ejecting the intended object free of it: a vibroblade.

A quick twirl of the bladed weapon and a press to activate it, the Irken rogue lodged it deeply into Haxx's inner right thigh. His grip immediately loosened as he fell to the ground, crying out against the sheer pain. Despite the impairment, he rolled to safety just in time as Tak thrust one of her PAK appendages down in an attempt to finish him off. Before she could retract the leg, Vult's plasma blade sliced cleanly through it, throwing her off-balance once more, finally crumpling into the snow with a single fully-functioning PAK leg left.

On her hands and knees, she heaved for breath, clutching and making fists in the snow in frustration. Her wounds pained her greatly, growing more by the passing second as the adrenalin of battle began wearing off and her own PAK unable to keep up with administering painkillers. Vult remained ever-vigilant as he approached slowly from behind her.

"Hands behind your back, now," He sternly ordered, fishing the restraints from his belt once more. "I said I had a mission to fulfill, Drone, and I will do so."

"…perhaps I underestimated you," Tak spoke through grit teeth, finally relaxing somewhat, compiling with Vult's demands. "but if you're willing to let bygones be bygones, I'll put this little…incident behind me….I surrender."

Silent, he remained focused on her hands as she positioned them to have the restraints clasped around her wrists. He wasn't able to see the devious, sly look on her face as she waited with anticipation. Haxx, on the other hand, could. What troubled him even more was he continued to wrestle with the vibroblade lodged in his leg, impairing him into being able to do nothing about it.

"Commander, look out, it's a tra-"was all that he managed to get out before Tak set her plans into motion.

The remnants of the four PAK legs quickly snapped into position, forming the corners of what appeared to be a rectangle, the points directed to the rear…towards the Commander. Vult reacted, attempting to dive out of the way, but the Drone was far too fast with the element of surprise and deception. A massive energy blast erupted forth from it, intending to prove lethal to whomever was caught in it. Haxx froze with horror as he watched, but the one who had front-row seats was Vult.

He watched as if time crawled painfully slow before him, his right arm, the very same that had his plasma blade activated, was caught in the energy attack. As if it were in layers, he watched the components of his weapon melt away, then the armor plating, fabric of his uniform, his skin, and finally looked on, stunned with fright at the sight as tissue, flesh, and bone went as well. Vult staggered back in amazement as he looked at the remnants of his right arm, nothing existing below the elbow any longer, charred black with severe burns.

Tak seized the window of opportunity, whirling around from her kneeling position, and lunged forward with the single intact PAK leg. The razor-honed point sliced through the air at blinding speed, easily finding its way to the intended target: Vult. His body jerked violently as it pierced his flesh, making quick work of the armor plating in the center of his chest as if it were nothing. The enraged Invader continued forward, running him completely through as the point exited his back, narrowly missing his PAK as it protruded from his left shoulder. Dark emerald, oily blood dripped from the silver, metallic point.

"Commander, NO!!!" Haxx exclaimed, attempting to get to his feet to do something, anything to aid Vult.

"I warned you," she growled lowly, staring hard into Vult's visor, knowing that a visage of shock and immense pain stared back at her. She quickly retracted the leg from his body, causing him to go limp and fall to a knee, grasping at his combat mask, attempting to release it. His remaining left hand finally found the release, allowing it to part ways. As it did so, a profuse amount of blood that had gathered spilled onto the once-flawless snow, coughing and gagging as he did so. The Irken Commander was mortally wounded and almost drowned on his own blood. He grasped at the perfect puncture through his body, attempting to stay the bleeding somewhat, but it was failing miserably, feeling that his PAK was unable to keep up with the rapid loss in replenishing it.

In a matter of moments, if he didn't get medical attention, he was going to die.

"I never leave anything unfinished," Tak spoke, drawing the lethal PAK leg back once more, "and I'll do the merciful thing and put you out of your misery, Commander." She added with discontent upon hearing Haxx yell out to his commanding officer.

Vult, already feeling light-headed and finding it difficult to breath from the location of the grievous wound. Irken were known for their resilience when it came to injury, but he could already tell something was terribly wrong, and if not acted upon, he was going to expire. This Janitorial Drone who claimed to be an Invader knew exactly where to strike for the full effect. Regretfully…it was right on target.

The PAK leg snapped back, preparing to strike once more, like the stinger of an insect. The Irken Commander closed his eyes, waiting for what seemed like the end. After surviving the bloodbath that was Praxxus 7, he was certain that there wasn't anything left in the universe that could fell him.

If the Irken truly had a greater power of any kind other than the Armada watching over them, Vult was hoping a miracle would happen to stave off an untimely end.

It appeared his wish had been granted.

Just as Tak began to follow through with her attack, a large-caliber plasma bolt ripped through the right side of her abdomen. The force twirled her around before she fell to the ground, screaming in pain as she grasped at the disturbing wound. The shot came right over his head and stopped her in her tracks, finally putting her down for the count.

"Target is down, Commander," Tuu's calm voice spoke, "I apologize for not firing sooner, I didn't have a shot, especially in these conditions."

"It's…okay, Tuu," Vult forced himself to respond, finding it difficult to do anything at this point. "Just…get the ship…and get us out of here."

Haxx finally managed to limp over to Vult, using the remnants of his rifle as a crutch.

"Sir, are you alright, how bad is it?" He frantically requested.

As much as he tried to respond, he hadn't the energy left, and finally succumbed to the extent of his wound and passed out from blood loss. The white snow around his body was now tinged a sickly green, steam emanating from the open wound to the extreme cold.

"Sir? Commander, answer me!" Haxx continued, giving Vult a shake about the shoulders, "I'kveda udura, Aero!" He called out, hoping to see his comrade, beginning to panic "Aero!"

She finally emerged from the blanket of snow that hindered their visibility greatly, the side of her helmet crumpled, a deep laceration under her eye matched it where Tak's attack landed. Mrs. Q bounded over, throwing MiMi, deactivated and missing the grappler arm, next to Tak, who was still writing in pain, grasping the gaping sound in her side. It was scary how efficient Tuu could be. That shot was easily 900 meters out, difficult to begin with, and compounded by the blizzard-like conditions and low visibility.

"What are you hollering about?" She responded, agitated, then seeing Vult and the oily-green snow around him, "I'kveda udura…how bad is it?"

"I-I don't know, he passed out, but it looks like in the chest."

"Gee, what gave it away, Haxx? The profuse bleeding from the center of it or it all over the ground?" She sarcastically scathed, "hurry up and patch it up before he bleeds out, enough to get him back to the ship and let Sula do her job, I'll restrain these two."

Haxx's hands were very jittery as he began producing medical supplies from his belt, nervous and slowly at that. Aero finally grew agitated at his panicked state, shoving him out of the way and knelt at Vult's side.

"Move it. Take care of those two," she angrily ordered at his incompetence.

Aero was no medical expert, but thanks to Sula's cross-training, she knew enough to keep soldiers and herself alive long enough for proper treatment. That was looking very difficult at this point though. She pulled the remnants of the armor plating free of the uniform, opening it up for a better look at what was plaguing him. The culprit appeared to be exactly what she had feared from the signs…a ruptured squeedly spooch. Irken anatomy was stupidly simple, but that also meant if something were to happen, say a traumatic injury such as this, to the single organ responsible for a majority of the bodily functions, it could spell disaster and a very painful death. No amount of blood stoppage was going to stop him from suffocating to death with a large hole through the spooch, one that almost ripped it free of the windpipe.

Knowing the Commander's life hung in the balance, she prepared herself, as well as her stomach, and thrust her hand inside of the wound, grabbing hold of the ruptured area of the spooch, and hopefully sealing it off enough to allow Vult to breathe once more.

"Oh…" she begun gagging as she felt the organ pulsate within her grasp, amplified by the pooling blood. She forced herself off the subject to find out where their comrade with the dropship was, "Tuu, where are you, respond."

"On my way, be there in…20 seconds," he responded. "I already informed the ship and Sula of what happened and she's ready for the Commander as soon as we are in the hangar."

"Are the prisoners ready for transport, Haxx?" Aero requested, hoping his commlink was still working.

"That voreta Drone tried to bite me, I gave her a swift kick in the face, she's out cold," Haxx angrily replied, "but yeah, both of them are gagged and bagged. Let's get off this rock…now."

"Understood," Aero attempt to remain calm in command. They all may have been Sergeants, but she was Sergeant 1st class, just a step above. "get over here and help me put the Commander in the ship."

Haxx hobbled over, the dropship descending mere feet away, kicking up even more snow in drifts from the jetwash. The rear hatched slammed open, Tuu rushing out to aid the other two is keeping Vult stable while they moved him. Aero kept a grasp on the spooch, knowing if she released, he risked suffocating, and with his current condition, it wouldn't take much. They strapped him in for transport, Tuu and Haxx quickly returning with Tak, simply tossing her in, landing on her face painfully before coming to a halt. Mrs. Q tossed the remnants of MiMi on top of Tak, boarding the ship as well.

"Alright, we're in," Aero announced, keeping an eye on Vult, Haxx pulling the Commander's helmet off to allow him some comfort, tossing it to the side.

Seconds felt like an eternity, as that was all it took to leave the planet's surface and be on a docking pattern with the Ghost of Irk. Each second passed was another lost, Aero and Haxx both watching on in a combination of horror, frustration, and anger as Vult began losing color in his skin, blood pooling on the deck below him. No sooner than the ship touched down on the hangar floor, the door was slammed open, Aero and Haxx using the stretcher that Vult was strapped to lift him and maneuver him out to Sula and a waiting repulsor gurney. She was more than prepared, dressed in head-to-toe surgical clothing, a matching apron and gloves. No sooner than Vult was on the repulsor, he was being maneuvered out of the hangar, Aero running beside it.

"It's his squeedly spooch," she began explain, trailing off as they entered the hall, rushing to the medical wing.

It was then that Haxx noticed that everyone else, even Rem, had collected in the hangar and awaited their arrival. The utter shock and disbelief was written all over their faces, and it didn't help matters any that a trail of blood led from the dropship to the medical ward…Vult's blood.

In the silence, and out of frustration, Haxx ripped his own helmet off, slamming it into the hangar floor, shattering the visor in the process. He let out a string of obscenities in their native tongue, a language that was long forgotten by many, made illegible from his anger. Rha stepped forward, stopping him from getting anywhere near Tak.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, take it easy," he attempted to calm his friend and comrade, "things like this happen, it's part of our job."

"She's responsible, if the Commander dies, it's her fault! She must be punished!" He exclaimed, trying to get at Tak still, Rha holding him back. It was evident if he broke free and got to Tak, who was still restrained and hindered by her collection of wounds, he was going to kill her and make this mission all for naught. It didn't matter though, all reasoning was thrown out the window as soon as he lost control of his building anger.

Corr finally stepped in, forcefully shoving Haxx back off of Rha, getting his attention.

"That is enough, Sergeant!" He ordered sternly, blazing a hole through Haxx in his stare, "Straighten up and start acting like a Shadow Striker, the best example of military prowess in the entire universe, not some spoiled, defective smeet!"

The angered Irken finally caved, collapsing against the hull of the dropship, sliding down to a seated position as he heaved for breath.

"I understand your frustration, but you must control it, "Corr continued, finding it difficult to keep his own thoughts in check, but for the time being, he was in command, "we must be optimistic about this. We're soldiers, this is part of our everyday lives, and this is no different from when we were regulars in the Irken Elite. Yes, Commander Vult has instructed us and built a family bond with us, making us stronger as a whole, so we must do the same for him. He needs us now more than ever, he needs us to be strong. His fight is as much as ours, we cannot lose faith."

"You're…right, Sir," Haxx finally responded, feeling ashamed, "forgive me for my outburst."

"There's no need to ask for forgiveness, Haxx," Corr stated, using his name as opposed to rank, something he rarely did. He offered a hand to help his comrade up to a standing position once more. "Just keep in mind he's still with us, and we all will fight this together, as one."

"Besides," Rha began with a smirk, patting his friend on the shoulder, "we have the best Medical Officer in the Armada right here with us…if she can't put him back together, no one can."

It wasn't quite the answer he was looking for, but the light-heartedness of it was what he needed to calm down somewhat.

"Go clear your head, Sergeant, retire to your quarters for the time being if you need to, just get some rest," Corr semi-suggested of an order, turning to inspect the interior of the dropship, seeing a female Janitorial Drone that was still unconscious, plagued by various wounds and broken equipment protruding from her PAK, remnants of a SIR unit nearby, and the Commander's vicious blood that trailed out of the ship.

"Vard, remove anything dangerous from her PAK if you can, keep that SIR unit deactivated while you're at it," Corr motioned for the small Irken Communications Technician and master of Irken technology. He promptly saluted, brandishing tools from his belt. "Rha, you and Tuu take her down to the brig as soon as Vard's done with her."

The pair nodded, watching Vard do comply with Corr's orders.

"Rem, set course for Dirt, the longer she's on this ship, the more dangerous of a situation we may face."

A quick salute answered, the pilot and navigator doing an about face before making her way back to the bridge.

"Everyone else, carry on with your assigned duties, we have a job to do, we're not on vacation," he rounded out, seeing that he covered all the bases. Only he and the SIR unit known as Mrs. Quackers remained. The machine wasn't capable of expressing emotions or feelings, but even in logic, it knew what was going on.

"Captain, Sir," it spoke in its usual tone, "will the Commander recover from his inflicted injury?"

"…I'm not sure," Corr regretfully admitted, "only time will tell. Until then, all we can do is hope for the best."

The next several hours seemed to drag on as everyone tried to keep their minds off of the fact that Commander Vult, the soldier that brought all of them together, trained with them by their sides, and proved through unity, they needed no one else but themselves, was fighting for his life, literally. It was around mess time, everyone in the hall, eating quietly as opposed to sharing general conversation. Aero and Haxx managed to patch their own wounds up the best they could, enough to let their PAKs take over and do the rest of the work. Vard had his hands full in his workshop with repairing their equipment. Past that, all the others could do was simply wait in agonizing anticipation of the verdict.

"Hey, Volx," Rha beckoned, peering into the pot that held today's meal. "How much of this is left?"

"It's Lietuenant to you, Corporal," she made abundantly clear in her usual icy demeanor, "and why do you want to know?"

"Take some down to the Janitorial Drone. She finally came to and she's not exactly in a good mood. No need to instigate anymore problems."

"Let her starve," Haxx announced grumpily from his table without looking up, "she gets any of her energy back, whoever's on watch duty will regret it. She's no Drone, that's for sure. I don't know what she is, but after what she did, there's no way in Irk she's a drone…vodeta," he said under his breath, apparently a very demeaning word for a female Irken.

"There's no reason to call her that, Haxx," Aero defended, feeling as if he had something against females in general, "sure she retaliated and some…unfortunate things happened, but there's no reason we should deny her basic needs."

"Basic needs? If it was up to me, she's already be ejected out the airlock. After what she did in retaliation, the last thing I want to do is be nice or show compassion. We go to Dirt, throw her out the ship, and be about our merry way back to Vort where we should be instead of playing babysitter for the Armada, end of story. Compassion is for the weak, anyway."

"Maybe that's why you're not in charge then," Aero responded, turning to Rha, "even if there's isn't enough, she can have what's left of mine…" turning back to Haxx, "…I've lost my appetite anyway."

"More for me…" Haxx smirked, reaching for Aero's bowl, only to have a utensil knife slap the back of his hand.

It was a good thing he looked up to see who had done it before he spoke, Corr standing beside his table, knife still in his hand. He simply looked on as he rubbed his hand, awaiting for the Captain to speak.

"Corporal," he announced, getting Rha's attention, "take some food down to our guest. She's not a prisoner, but she will be held against her will to be returned to Dirt. Aero is right, Haxx, we're not heartless, and compassion in this case isn't for the weak."

"Besides…the last thing we need is the Tallest asking questions and wanting to know why we managed to kill a Janitorial Drone in our possession. I don't think "out of anger or revenge" would be a good answer," Aero pointed out, dumping the remnants of her meal into the bowl that Rha was going to take to Tak in the brig.

"…good point," the hot-headed Irken realized, "but it would be in everyone's best interest that you keep me off guard duty for a little while, not sure what I'll do if I see her."

Just as Rha left the mess hall to proceed back down to the brig, Sula appeared in the doorway, exhausted and weary. Her once pristine surgical uniform now soiled with dark green blood…Irken blood…Vult's blood. She lifted her protective surgical mask and visor, pulling the stained gloves from her hands. Everyone was already up out of their seats, approaching fast to hear of Vult's condition. Requests came in rapid-fire succession from everyone in a big, jumbled mess.

"Everyone…please calm down," she meekly requested, but was unheard by them.

"Atten-HUH!" Corr bellowed, getting the necessary silence she wished for, turning back to Sula, "proceed, Medical Officer."

With a nod and minute smile, she continued.

"As all of you were aware of, the Commander's condition was quite dire," the surgeon began, "so it was necessary for emergency reconstructive surgery. As Aero informed me of, his squeedly spooch had been nearly severed from the windpipe, causing profuse bleeding, hindered breathing, and a life-threat-"

"Is he alright, Sula?" Interrupted Haxx, "is he alive?"

"…yes, bu-"

A load of untold proportions was lifted from their shoulders, sighs and positive remarks for one another not losing faith.

"BUT," Sula finally garnered their attention again, finding it difficult to keep her own eyes open, "he'll be under careful watch for the next few days so he can recover and be monitored in case anything goes awry. As for his right arm…that was something that even I can't work miracles on. It was already cauterized, so even if I had the severed limb, I couldn't reattach it."

"There's nothing you can do at all?" Corr respectively requested of her, placating the current situation.

"Well…there is one thing, and I'd rather ask his permission first before following through with it," Sula began nervously, "I briefly spoke with Vard about it, and he said if he gets the right measurements and information necessary…he can fashion a cybernetic replacement. I won't do it against his will."

"…Seems fair enough," Corr nodded, respecting his commanding officer's own personal choices, "I know he needs rest before anything can be done, so let's leave it at that. In the meantime, Medical Officer… you need rest yourself."

"Yes, Sir, Captain," she weakly saluted, knowing he wanted her to retire to her quarters.

"Are we allowed to see him yet?" Haxx asked, knowing that someone had to say it.

"Not yet," Sula timidly informed, "he needs to rest, he's still being monitored intensively. It's a miracle he's alive, especially after all the blood he lost."

"No kidding, I spent the last two hours scrubbing out the dropship," Aero thumbed down the hall towards the hangar. As petty as it sounded, it was more laughable than anything now that they knew Vult, their Commander, and leader of the Shadow Strikers, was going to pull through.

Meanwhile they learned of Vult's condition, Rha had returned to the brig. It was more or less a storage area fashioned into one with welded metal bars keeping whoever was inside from getting out. A hatch at eye-level for most of those aboard the ship was able to be opened to allow minute access, such as providing prisoners with a meal and whatnot. The soldier approached the bars, Tak was sitting against the wall, still hurt from the wounds she garnered, but conscious.

"…I brought you something to eat," Rha presented in a nervous tone, opening the sliding door to place the bowl on the small shelf. His ill-at-ease nature around her wasn't out of fear, but for the fact she was being treated like a prisoner of war for simply running from her assigned duty. Granted, in the Armada, that was treason and punishable by death, but after all that had transpired thus far…she seemed to be dedicated enough to her personal cause and had her reasons. That alone was respectable on any level. She remained still as he closed the hatch, taking his seat just outside the cell on guard duty. Leaving someone as dangerous as she had proven thus far was the last thing they wanted to do.

"…It's better than the usual gruel the regulars in the Armada get," Rha attempted to make conversation, trying to show that it was nothing personal, simply doing their job…their assignment.

"Stop trying to act as if you're a friend, it's insulting," Tak finally spoke, her face still sore where Haxx literally kicked her in the teeth. She could have swore that a couple of them were chipped, "…and I'm not eating that slop…I have my own."

Rha notice then that she had a small knife and some kind of fruit, peeling the skin off of it, popping a piece in her mouth from time-to-time. How could he miss something like that?

"Where did you get that?" He nearly demanded, standing up, grabbing his rifle in the process.

"This?" She nonchalantly motioned with the knife, "I've had it the whole time. For Spec Ops, you're awfully sloppy when it comes to prisoner containment. I'm sure I could have injured another one of you with it if I wanted to."

"Drop it, now," Rha ordered, pointing at the floor.

"I'm using it, just wait one bloody second," Tak unbelievably countered, continuing to slice slivers off of the fruit.

Rha raised his rifle, disengaging the safety, waiting for it to fully charge and power up.

"I said drop it!"

Out of frustration, Tak stabbed the knife into the fruit, tossing it across the cell, letting it roll through the bars at his feet.

"There, happy?" She seethed, folding her arms much like a child would, "big, bad soldiers wasting their time with a…Janitorial…Drone," Tak growled through her teeth at the words.

Rha stood down, placing the weapon back against the wall, then picked up the fruit and pulled the knife from it.

"That has something to do with you abandoning your post, doesn't it?" He continued to make conversation, trying to pass the time, hopefully for her as well. Without realizing it, he continued where Tak had left off on the fruit, slicing it up to be eaten.

"Something…it has EVERYTHING to do with it!" She animated, almost irate. The disposed Drone quickly recovered, attempting to find interest in the bleak bulkhead to avoid the conversation. She saw how much he just wanted to talk to pass the time, and to be quite honest…it wouldn't hurt, anything was better than sitting and doing absolutely nothing for the entire trip back to Dirt.

Though risky, Rha put his hand through one of the bars, revealing the slices of fruit, offering them back to Tak.

"We have no interest in torturing you, nor do we have orders to do so," he explained, "all we're doing is taking you back to Dirt, as per the Almighty Tallest's decree…so take it."

It was odd, especially from a soldier, but she wasn't going to pass it up…she really enjoyed that type of fruit, something that was native to Vort. It rarely came to Dirt or any other Irken worlds, so she horded as much as she could when she had the chance. More or less snatching it back from him, she obliged, sitting against the wall once more.

"…what about your friends?" Tak commented, being a witness to kindness from a Spec Ops soldier, something she had never seen before, especially for what looked like a battle-hardened veteran. Just from that assessment of his appearance, she could have swore that he would have killed her for far less than having a simple knife. "…this unit seems…strange at best, what's going on with that?"

"It's classified."

"How classified?"

"Very, look, I can't tell you anything about my unit or the soldiers in it. All you need to know is that we have a mission to fulfill, and it includes returning you back to Dirt."

"Here I am, trying to make conversation, and you pull rules and regulations out on me," Tak unbelievably commented, seeing how he almost did a complete reversal to how open he was a moment ago. "How about this…we play a little game. You tell me something I want to know…I'll tell you something, anything."

"…depends on what you want to know." Rha saw no harm in doing so, it would pass his shift by, of which he still had 3 hours left. "You go first."

"Since you won't tell me anything about your unit….how about you then." Tak gestured towards the Irken soldier, munching on another slice of the fruit. "What's your story? What were you doing before you became part of what I see around me, all the secrecy and whatnot. You can tell me that much, can't you?"

"I'm not all that interesting," he sheepishly admitted, running a hand under his eye…the very same place where his moderate scar ran. "just your run-of-the-mill soldier."

"Looks like to me you saw action," Tak commented by observation, "where at?"

"It's a long story," The soldier responded, shifting weight in his chair.

"Well…in case you hadn't noticed…Corporal," the rogue matter-of-factly stated, glancing at his rank and insignia on his uniform, "…I've got all the time in the universe at the moment."

Maybe this shift of guard duty wouldn't be so bad and actually fly by after all.