To say the mood had soured in the days leading up to this moment would have been an understatement. What was once a roaring fire of defiance had been doused into smoldering embers with the fall of the power plant to the Empire. Their final bastion of security crumbled before their very eyes, powering down and ultimately seeing a reinforcement of Imperial forces take up residence.
Morale had been crushed as the inevitability of their demise began to take hold. This truly was the end. The power plant shutting down and no longer supplying much-needed energy to the phasic barrier, the backup batteries would only maintain the field in its entirety for so long. The various back-up generators around Tallum's city center did not have the output to maintain the barrier's strength, even if pushed to the brink of operational failure.
The timer had started counting down until it faltered entirely and the emerald horde just beyond the range of their guns would flow en masse into the city. There had been a distinct shift in strategy and change in tactics in the days leading up to this moment. The Irken no longer threw themselves against their defenses with reckless abandon. What intelligence reports they could receive with regularity showed combined arms massing with the intent to push forward under protection from artillery and armor. Both of which the VDF was woefully outmatched by sheer volume.
The remaining creature comforts that had given the remaining defenders solace evaporated. All non-essential equipment had to be powered down to preserve the phasic barrier for as long as possible. No lights, no climate control, no hot water. Non-critical generators were diverted to extend the charge of the batteries...or at least slow the draw. Remaining perishable foods were quickly given out before they spoiled.
Despite the turn for the absolute worst, Tallum remained occupied. The capital city of Vort was far from finished. Not yet. Ironically, the fate of countless civilians had been changed with the aid of the Irken. A specific group of special forces operatives provided the means for Tallum to be evacuated beneath the vigilance of the Empire undetected. Something that has not been forgotten, even on the eve of darker times ahead.
Those that remained did so by duty and choice. The remnants of the tattered, bruised, and bloodied VDF's regulars, able-bodied men and women of the civilian populace unwilling to leave their homes to the Irken invaders, and a handful of special forces were all that remained. Outnumbered, outgunned, and supplies running dangerously thin.
Many despaired, dreading their impending demise. Others did their best to remain composed in the face of absolution, often for the sake of others around them. Fear was infectious and they did not need an epidemic spreading throughout the ranks at this critical moment. Some made their peace, prepared to embrace whatever came. A few indulged in temptations of the flesh with reckless abandon, living as there was no tomorrow.
Not all had given up hope, however. However bleak the future appeared, a handful remained stalwart in their beliefs. Among them were the VDF's finest, Ohnmatu. A constant presence by example had been maintained. They did not relent in their efforts, nor did they show overwhelming signs of weakness or defeat. They served as an inspiration to the others to keep fighting, no matter what.
Gantas stood in a room within the darkened Citadel. The air within stale from the lack of circulating air since the fans and climate control went silent, the interiors of the citadel illuminated by candles or flashlights. The halls within even lacked activity in recent days, a number of soldiers taking their leave with civilians of their own volition to head out with civilians and keep the fight going elsewhere. With him, the leaders of his four teams of Ohnmatu on Vort: the Ahkos and Gorsam'Vorken. Reeshara manually closed and secured the automatic door, nodding to Gantas as she made her way over.
"All right, this is the end game. Overlord and Taskmaster are planning for some crazy counter attack to distract from the evacuation. He's intended to use our ships to evac civilians and leave us high and dry to die here on Vort. I have no intention of dying here and continuing the war. I've instructed our pilots to land far behind Irken lines. Once Overlord signals the attack to begin, forget whatever objective he gives you. Break off. Proceed at best speed towards your team's vessel's LZ, board, and get off this planet. We'll meet up back at Admiral Narr's headquarters."
"What about you and the XO, sir?" Tha asked of her commander.
"Khor is going with Athka team. Boss."
"Sir," Commander Vorken responded.
"I'm going with your team. We have an additional objective. It's on the way."
"Yes, sir."
The General's comlink blinked to life, seeing a familiar signal, from their new Irken allies, "One second." He switched his comms to that frequency and picked up, "Commander?"
"Do you have the time?"
"I'm discussing our exit strategy with my team. SIS has an insane plan in mind and now seems as good a time as any to leave. The situation changing on your end?"
"...I'm going to assume this frequency is secure if you're going to be that open about it."
"Extremely. Though make it quick, the less SIS knows I'm transmitting the better."
"Of course. We are stepping off within the hour. I cannot stop what follows. Whatever you and your people need to do, get it done."
"You willing to meet up with one of my teams? Need to pass off some items of interest to you. Also coordinates, if you can do me a favor before you leave Vort and pick up a small care package for my sister."
"Location?"
"There's a restaurant on the corner of Independence and Federal, they'll wait for you inside. I'll shoot you the coordinates once I'm done talking with my team."
"You are making me nervous how lax you are being with this."
"These guys from SIS have made my fuck meter run absolutely dry and into the negatives. I am owed fucks. Can you be there or not?"
"Your insistence is raising my suspicions...but neither of us do not have much in the way of options. My turn to trust you. Don't make me regret it."
"Good, they'll be waiting. Out." Gantas took a breath, "Reaper."
"Sir?" Tha'Ahko sounded off.
"Change of plans. Need you to take this intel package to the Commander's team once I input the coordinates on the drive. He should find it useful for future reference."
"You're not coming with us?"
"Nope. I'll be leaving with Spectre's team."
Rub, much like his family and allies, kept his internal grumblings as just that. They were all taxed to the point of exhaustion, physically and mentally. Many of them nursed some semblance of a nagging injury. The nights cold without fire or climate control to stay warm, the same for food. Clean drinking water and for the sake of hygienic standards was beginning to become a rare commodity. All of this a result of encirclement and entrapment at their aggressor's doing.
He turned his attention to Gantas upon being the topic of conversation.
"The Commander and his team...do you think ve can trust them?" He inquired bluntly. "Does not take a strategic genius to read into vhat he said. The Irken are going to push before ve are ready to receive them and force our hand. What makes you think this is not one of their elaborate ploys to draw us into the open for elimination?"
"I trust him. The man still has my sister on his ship, and my father's with the Admiral." Gantas took a breath, "Besides, you met him, as did your twin. By the time the Irken begin their advance I anticipate we'll be on our way to our ships."
"Yes, I have, vhich is vhy I am asking...Sir." The Lieutenant remembered his place, falling back on the chain-of-command and discipline in these trying times. "My paranoia has served me well in ensuring my survival thus far."
"I'm confident everything should go without a hitch, sir," Tha spoke up, "If things look like they'll go bad, we can scatter quickly once we drop the intel off to him. If the Commander's as trustworthy as you say, I doubt he's setting a trap for us."
"Unrealistic optimism is just as deadly as realistic pessimism." Rub reminded his kin somewhat sagely. "...but we are vith little in the way of options at this point. Between the Empire at the gates and the SIS within…"
A heavy, weary sigh came from the marksman. A filthy, fraying glove ran back over his horns.
"...I have told myself countless times that our plans vill serve our people better in the long-term...but it feels as if ve are abandoning Tallum...abandoning Vort. A difficult pill to swallow."
"We may have to leave in the short term, but we'll be back for it." Gantas said, attempting to reassure him, "We still have the rest of the Federation to worry about. All this time we bought them here gave them time to prepare for war. It'll be up to our colonies to help us reclaim our home when the time comes, as well as our new allies. Besides, we'll do Vort more good alive than dead as SIS would have us."
"Of course, Sir...Reeshara vas quick to remind me ve do not need more dead heroes as well." He attempted to keep the mood light despite the crushing weight of reality bearing down on them.
"All right. I think that's it then. Stand by for my signal and your coordinates from your pilots. Let's get out of here in one piece." Gantas nodded to Reeshara, signaling for her to open the door once more.
The lock opened with a thud as she switched to strength mode to open the door. She was the first to head out to rally her team. Ruk, meanwhile, sat in the hallway with a flask of liquor in hand, trying to preserve what clean water he had in his canteen for when he needed it. Static sat on the floor near him, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, taking a quick snooze while he could.
The impromptu meeting concluded, Rub followed after his elder sister, approaching his twin and the sleeping Static. He held his hand out to take the flask from his brother, giving it a cursory sniff and a bemused huff.
"Suppose that's one vay of purifying it…" He commented, sampling it for himself with a nod of approval before giving it back to Ruk. "Good blend. Got some practice at that, haven't you?"
Ruk let out a light laugh, "I suppose you could put it like that." He paused to take a swig from it himself. "So, are ve...you know?" He made a gesture with his free hand to indicate them leaving.
"Soon…" Rub paused, taking a cautionary look around to ensure no one was eavesdropping. "The...unlikely allies made contact vith Gantas. He is tasking a team to rendezvous vith them. Based on what vas implied, the Empire is set to begin their offensive soon. The impatient vermin cannot even allow us the decency to see the barrier drained fully first."
"Vhy am I not surprised?" He shook his head, "I can only hope the cabin is left standing vhenever ve return."
"Somehow I doubt they'd be interested in your primitive shed in the mountains." Rub lightly jabbed at his sibling. "...may be one of the few unmolested places left on the planet."
"It is also yours, bruvka." Ruk jabbed back at him lightly, "I hope you're right about that." He closed the flask and slipped it into a pouch on a chest rig he wore over his suit. "So vhat do we do until later?"
"Far as I gathered, standby. Gantas is departing vith our team. Ve leave vhen he does. Safe to assume vherever he goes until then, ve are accompanying." The Lieutenant reasoned, leaning against the wall in the dimly-lit corridor beside Ruk, and folding his arms across his chest. "I am not opposed to vaiting. A little moment's reprise is always welcome...but the anticipation of what is to come is unbearable. I vould rather see this through than stand around and vait for it to begin."
'I agree. I vould rather get going as vell." He looked at the nearby Corporal, still snoozing, "He seems to have the right idea in the meantime."
Rub nodded in understanding, standing upright off of the wall with a pat of his brother's shoulder.
"Make sure you're ready to leave first though. Hard telling vhen Gantas is going to surprise us vith that." He offered, stepping back in preparation to continue down the corridor. "I am going to check on Doc and Shika. Get some rest, bruvka."
Ruk nodded, standing from his seat and making his way down the other hall to gather a few things. Outside at the corvette, the ever faithful doctor was tending to wounded soldiers and civilians selected to leave on their Corvette. Shika was busy making records and getting everyone to settle on board in every available seat possible..and then some. At least it would be only one stop with all of these people loaded up, hopefully, two at most if what she figured was going down was the true plan.
Rub, leaving the relatively safety of the reinforced citadel onto the promenade that had become their makeshift landing pad and general gathering location, approaching the familiar vessel. The fortunate, or unfortunate, depending on perspective, few selected to accompany them on their extraction were stuck in a perpetual holding pattern.
Not that the individuals of varying importance, military and civilian alike, were of much use. Most of them sustained incapacitating injuries or were so weakened by the constant stress of survival in the face of what appeared to be imminent doom was taking its toll. Doc, among the best in his field and master of his craft of medicine, was not a miracle worker. He could only do so much with so little, no matter how ingenious or resourceful he was.
The marksman walked past their assigned medic, giving him a nod of recognition. He was beyond busy and lacked the time or energy to engage in frivolous conversation. Reeshara would pass orders down soon enough, no need for redundancy.
Rub allowed the man to work, making his way further onto the corvette. Ducking his head through the open bulkhead, the Lieutenant stepped into Shika's view.
"See you are staying busy. Do you need any help?" He offered on approach.
She finished another name on the list, directing them towards the galley for some available seats. "I've got a pretty good rhythm of things. I think I can manage. Thanks, though." She stopped and looked to a squad of armored infantrymen entering the ship, a bit confused at first, until they approached her, their leader, a SNCO, looking right at her.
"You Shika'Numati?"
"Maybe, what do you need?"
"Got orders that my squad is assigned to your ship for the evacuation."
"On whose authority?"
"'Zharic's, ma'am."
That seemed to alleviate some concerns, "Well, that's good to know. Wait here. I'll get you entered in the log shortly." She turned her attention to Rub and motioned for him to follow her to the cockpit where they'd have some privacy as she shut the door behind them. "I do want to know one thing for sure, what's the plan? I don't get the feeling we're leaving you behind to die here like Overlord and Taskmaster said we'd be doing."
Expecting to assist her accordingly in regard to the newly arrived team of VDF currently aboard the corvette, the abrupt closing of the door to the cockpit and her quickened words garnered his attention in full.
"I vouldn't call it...leaving." He began, trying to think of the best way to describe the current strategy...or lack of one. "More ve are to provide support and cover the remaining evacuation sites...officially, of course."
Rub leaned closer, keeping his voice low to not be overheard.
"Unofficially, ve are going to do this until it is unviable and take our own leave, regardless of what SIS or its members say. No one is being throw avay needlessly. Not today."
She heaved a visible sigh of relief. "Thank fuck. I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if I had to leave you here." She looked back to him after regaining her composure. "You doing okay? You're the one who has to do the 'fun stuff' in short order I guess."
"Exciting? Sure. Interesting? Maybe. Fun? Far from it." Rub huffed amusingly at her. "...any complaints I have pale in comparison to that of countless others. I'll manage. I'm not laying in my own urine for days on end vaiting for my target, so there is always the up side to things."
"Yeah, well, when you put it like that, maybe I prefer having access to the head and not doing that." She laughed before giving him a hug. "Just come back in one piece, hm?"
The hug was unexpected, but not unwelcome. The conversation they had before leading up to this moment was still fresh on his mind, largely thankful to the similar locale. Hesitant, his arm eventually lifted to embrace her with a gentle pat of her back.
"Should know better than ask that of me...or any of us, really." Rub countered, his tone less stern and more casual about the morbid topic. "Not about to start making promises I can't keep."
"Yeah, yeah…" Shika sighed, letting him go but still able to smile at him, "I'm sure if you can help it, you'll manage to as it is. They haven't killed you yet. I really gotta get back to logging these people in though. SIS has my line going down an entire block, the crazy assholes."
As Shika slowly relaxed, seeking to return to her work, his arm trailed down and back to her side. Before it fully slackened, she soon found it grasped by Rub. A subconscious gesture? He hadn't planned on doing so, nor put much thought into. Something within his mind commanded him to and he responded accordingly.
"There is the off chance that good fortune ceases to smile upon us, also." He admitted with some reluctance. He was never the sort to be fatalistic. Do or die, there was no try. "...and if it helps any, ve are not departing anytime soon. There are...elements in play to our benefit."
She stopped to look at him, hearing him out. Elements in play...sounded ominous, though in a good way? Weird, but she'd take any positive she could get. "Well, that's some small relief. Nice to hear some good news for a change." She turned to leave again but stopped herself, "Oh, if you want something nice for yourself, check the fridges in the galley. Managed to get some energy drinks, cold brews, and even some beers before the shelves were cleaned out in the last couple days. The selection may not be high end, but it's something, at least."
The offer of refreshments provided a welcome distraction. At least aboard the corvette, with its own power plant for propulsion, still possessed such qualities of life granted by electricity.
"Think you've vorked hard enough to earn a break and have a beer vith me?" He offered, tentatively releasing her seized hand as she sought to pull away.
She paused to consider his offer for a few moments. "Go get a couple of them and bring them back here." She left briefly to return to the waiting infantry squad. "You think you can do me a favor?"
"Yes, ma'am?"
"Take this log, get you and your squad logged in, log names and other identifying information of the passengers coming. Direct them to any free seat. It's going to be cramped in here for a while."
"Beats being in a tent in the park, ma'am, we'll be fine. Be glad to take care of this for you."
"Thanks." With that taken care of, she returned to the flight deck to wait for Rub.
Earnestly surprised she took him up on the offer of resting on the eve of Vort's final exodus, Rub did not debate the matter. They could all use a little bit of rest here and there. This was no different. Leaving the cockpit behind her, he turned off down the corridor to the vessel's on-board galley...or what could pass for one, anyway. A walk-in closet with a refrigerator and the bare basics for seating for two. A luxury cruise liner, this ship was not.
Unlocking and opening the cooler, he procured two bottles of beer. A regional favorite and extremely common on this part of Vort. A golden-brown, dry ale. Something that wouldn't settle too heavily on the stomach, empty or otherwise. Chilled bottles in hand, he returned to the cockpit to find Shika waiting for his arrival.
"Vhile it is against regulations for both of us to be drinking on duty-" He began, drawing his vibroblade from its sheath at his back and slip the finely-honed edge beneath the cap, he pried. One after the other, the bottles were opened with ease...or practice on his behalf. "I am of the belief that stopped mattering vhen downtime stopped existing." Rub concluded, offering one of the opened bottles to her as he sought to take a seat in the copilot's chair.
"Same went for the Navy." She took the bottle and sat in the pilot's seat, taking a deep breath and slouching in the seat as she took a long swig. "And given the flurry of activity ever since the power plant fell into Irken hands...I could use some time to relax. Been running pre flight checks and making sure everything was set in case we needed to run in an instant, then came logging in the passengers. Running a corvette is a bit tougher when you're missing the crew. The computers on this thing can only do so much."
Settling into his own seat, his knife sheathed once more, and the bottlecaps pocketed, he sampled his own brew as she spoke. Only after his weight settled off of his feet did he realize just how tired he was. Back-to-back days of ceaseless operations on world-weary bones and overexerted muscles. His minor injuries amplified and fractured ribs refused the rest needed. He, like the others, were slowly coming apart at the seams. Frayed, unraveling, and stretched to the point of failure. Only through tenacity and sheer will had he and the others maintained their composure. Whether it be a high tolerance of pain or stubbornness, Rub masked it well behind fatigued, deep green eyes.
"You've done a fine job vith the circumstances forced upon all of us. Our lives are in good hands vith you at the controls." Rub complimented before sighing heavily. No matter how willing or determined, reality reared its ugly head. Everyone was running on fumes and no amount of stims could keep them going forever. "...all I know is the fight is not over. Far from it. Tallum may fall, Vort vith it...but so long as there are enough of us villing to continue, the Empire vill never succeed…"
He paused to drink with a weary huff.
"...that or ve die standing in defiance. I von't be around to vitness our failure and impending demise as a civilization if that is the case. Either vay, I vin."
"Glad you have confidence in my abilities." She smiled, widely, "There's something appealing coming back to kick out the Empire and reclaiming the cradle of our species." She mused, "The longer victory is far more satisfying as it is." She took yet another swig. "Still, just a bit more for now, then maybe we can catch up on sleep for a little bit before getting back into the fight, yeah?"
"Romanticizing the idea of snatching victory from the jaws of defeat?" Rub quipped with a mild, cheeky smirk.
He heard her suggestion loud and clear, but did not comment. Rather, he settled for studying the amber contents of his partially-drank brew. Swirling the liquid within, not unlike the myriad of thoughts filling his head. Resting now was beyond ideal. Vital, even. The first reprieve they had in so long, even if it was on the eve of the end of days. Yet...he did not want to rest. He did not wish to sleep. Likely a lie to himself he perpetuated so long it became fact, but he was as sharp as ever. Hunger and sleep-deprivation tended to have that effect.
Finally, his attention lifted from his bottle back to Shika.
"...do you honestly believe ve are going to make it alive off Vort or are you just telling yourself that to keep your mind at ease? Do not confuse my curiosity for defeatism...coming to terms with reality is all."
"I really think we are. I trust the plan 'Zharic has. I also have supreme confidence in the three of you managing to escape this horror of a situation we find ourselves in and make it home. Besides, this ship has a few surprises in it for any possible pursuers." She cracked a smirk, not so much raring to give the weapons systems on the ship a go, but more that she knew she'd come out fine in the event they send any Ringcutters after her. "Got a long war ahead of us, after all…"
"Already feels as if it has lasted an eternity," Rub huffed before taking another slug of his drink. A heartier, lengthier one at that with a small wince. "Times such as these, I vish I had your optimism still…"
A pause of consideration.
"I am...surprised I've lasted this long. Part of me has been vishing for death. Everything I had here vas taken from me…"
"Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure whatever was left of my life before the war is a smoking ruin and a wrecked transit liner at one of the spaceports outside of the city." Shika sighed, "I think we may have something to come back to in the rebuilding. Who knows, may even find something or someone to fight for on a personal level as this goes on." She paused to take a drink, "Your wife, what was she like?"
Having someone take the moment and ask him so simple a question was equal parts jarring as it was refreshing. There wasn't a Vortian soul left on their homeworld that hadn't suffered some semblance of loss or tragedy. Mates, children, parents, extended family, entire lineages...gone. Centuries-old settlements reduced to charred ash and dust. Systematic erasure of history and culture beneath an unyielding emerald wave of merciless cruelty for selfish gains of conquest wrought by betrayal.
He had been no different than countless others...but Shika's interest reintroduced a concept back into his mind that had been sidelined for so long: Personification. The soldier, the fighter, the resister...he was still a person. A living, breathing, sentient being with real wants and needs. The sort of variables that separated them from the Irken. Self-identity. Individuality. Freedom of choice. Wants. Needs. Desires.
A bittersweet, sentimental smile graced the marksman's worn visage. One racked by grief as much as it was tempered by memories of days gone by. Mentioning her elicited the man to reach into one of the pouches at his waist, unfastening its magnetic clasp and rooting around briefly before producing a worn, tattered photograph.
A picture lacking its frame and ran the gauntlet of elements, but was wholly intact. Rub presented it to the doe-eyed pilot opposite of him for her inspection. The image was that of three Vortians. One being a somewhat younger Rub, either by years or prior to the stress of war. The other two were a woman and an adolescent male. She, a light blue in hue with elegant, curvaceous horns mimicking that of a ram's, with sapphire eyes. The young boy, hoisted on their shoulders, caught mid-laugh, was the spitting image of his father. A deep gray with emerald eyes.
"Ora vas her name. Ora'Vekas before she took mine. A gentle soul who vould never hurt another being. Our son, Mur. He vas soon to be 8 cycles. Ve had made plans to visit Paradosio to celebrate his birthday...then ID1 happened. By the time I vas relieved from the fighting and returned home, there vas nothing left. This is all that remains."
While his tone and inflection remained constant, internally he was in pain. Eyes darkened with clouds of grief. A man who lost everything and allowed rage to consume him on a righteous path of revenge...only to discover the folly of his obsession. He sought a bitter death instead of fighting for those still living around him.
"She sounds lovely." She looked at the two others in the photo, surprised even at Rub's different appearance. The war and the loss clearly took a toll on the man. "You all were on Praxxus when that happened? I can see why you'd hold a vendetta against the Irken." She paused and looked at him, "What's ID1?"
"Impending Doom One. The Empire's first attempt to begin their conquest across the universe." Rub clarified as she took in the image before her. "Ve lived on-base on Praxxus 7. I vanted to stay close to Vort and it vas the only posting available...if I had known…"
Ah yes, the sneak attack… Shika shook her head, "Hindsight always makes things crystal clear...did anybody really expect the Irken to betray us like that?" She paused to hand the photo back to him "Did you at least get the bastards who did it?"
"Not the ones specifically responsible, no," He admitted with a mixture of disdain and reluctance. "I vowed to take as many vith me to the grave as I could. They are yet to accomplish that task and I've earned something of a reputation among their ranks. I do not do it for the recognition, only the solace in knowing I strike fear vithin their ranks. Something that I have apparently accomplished with great success from the rumors I have heard. Whatever motivates the others to keep fighting, I vill take it."
Rather than divulge further down the path of bitter loss warmed by red-hot coals of revenge, Rub favored a tipping of his bottle. Another long drink to settle warmly on an empty stomach. Something to take his mind off of how utterly spirit-crushing and demoralizing their situation was. Optimism and strategy aside, their odds were not favorable. The reality of the matter was Tallum was likely to be their mass grave, shared and forgotten beneath the rubble.
Rub's head rose, meeting Shika's gaze once more. Hesitation seized his words, struggling to form a coherent sentence to meet his standards. He wished to speak, but the subject matter soured in his mind. Equal parts guilt and temptation twisted and turned in a roiling struggle against nature itself.
"...my mate and son may be...gone. Not forgotten, but gone. Nothing I ever do in this life vill change that. I...dishonored them vith my blind vengeance. Justified my cruelty and tempered my rage in their memory. Something Ora vould chastise me for...and Mur fear me, his father. Especially now ve are working vith the Irken against their Empire...vhat vas once clear is now clouded."
Working with the Irken against the Empire? That's news to her...Looked like Gantas wasn't kidding when he said there were strange developments. Though to ask about that in more detail...this wasn't the time for that. She took another drink.
"Sounds like this whole war's a mess. Lots of twists none of us saw coming. I mean, I never thought I'd see myself back at the helm of a military craft after I left the Navy, much less one of these spec ops stealth ships. Yet here I am, working with the Spectre of Vort himself, and we're both mired in this fog of war." She took a breath, "I think with whatever might happen, whatever comes next, you're bound to have plenty of opportunities to honor their memory once more."
"Vishful thinking at best, but you have a point." Rub acknowledged, giving his bottle a small swirl of consideration.
His weathered features drew tighter in confliction once more. Something troubled him. Why was this so difficult? Why could he simply not speak with confidence? He had never been void of it before. Why hesitate? They were hours away from likely demise. Days at best. Time was of the essence before they would all be incredibly busy.
Shika glanced down at her bottle, seeing she already went through two thirds of its contents. Clearly working hard. She stood from her seat and went to a small compartment, pulling out a bottle of liquor she's been saving as well as a couple of glasses. She poured the now rarity of an amber liquid into both glasses and added a touch of water before making her way over to him, standing close as she held out the glass to him. "I bought this to celebrate my promotion before I left the Navy. Some of the real good stuff...and impossible to find these days. One of the only things I was able to take with me from my home when Gantas conscripted me."
Her movement and the lull of silence led to some minor awkward discomfort. Her company was enjoyable, but just sitting there...quiet save for the distant rumblings of low-intensity engagements at the barrier's edges and the howl of the growing wind as another wave of storms were set to blow in over Tallum in the coming hours. Before he could query her actions or excuse himself and return to their respective duties, she procured a bottle of spirits and two accompanying glasses. She poured each of them a drink out and presented him with one. He accepted as she explained the bottle's intentions.
"Better late than never, I suppose." Rub attempted to lighten the mood with a bemused huff, giving the amber fluid a cursory swirl and sniff of appreciation before presenting the glass to the standing pilot. "...to your failed attempt at retirement."
"And to whatever the fuck comes next," her glass met his before taking a drink and placing a hand on the sniper's shoulder. "You think you're able to stick around longer? Spend more time here with me maybe?"
The hand to his shoulder, while a mild surprise, was not unwelcome. Their interaction had been at arm's length levels of comfort for some time. What followed, however, was a mild shock that he masked well amidst sampling the poured drink as his green gaze focused on hers. Only once he lowered his glass did he speak.
"I...do not have anywhere to immediately be." He began, doing his best to remain neutral. "My sister has not passed any further orders on and Gantas told us to stand by. Vhere I standby at is at my discretion. There are vorse places to vait for our inevitable demise at."
As he concluded his words, his unoccupied hand rose to her own on his shoulder. Greedily, if not guiltily, he took hold of it. Lifting it from his uniform, the slightest tugs of pressure meant to insist followed, drawing her closer. An open, inviting lap awaited her.
The slight tug wasn't turned away on her end. Even with her optimism, there was a sense biting at her that maybe Rub was right, small as it was. A few steps and she took her open seat, leaning against the sniper and taking a deep breath. "Well, here with you in this ship where we still have power beats out there in the dark. It sure as shit also beats an Irken prisoner camp or something."
The marksman gave a humorless huff of a laugh despite her settling into him. Adjusting his posture to better accommodate, he sat up and moved his glass from one hand to the other.
"That is putting it lightly, yes." He reasoned, hesitating to do so with a brief hitch of movement but eventually saw his arm wrap around Shika's midsection. "Power and climate control are favorable vhen there is neither in the rest of Tallum. Somevhat guilty to be greedily taking it for myself but I have also did much vithout rest. Am I deserving or just being selfish?"
"I'd say you deserve it. Plus, not many of us left. You saw how many civilians and their infantry escorts have been making their way out the past few days. Anyone else left is...well...us, crazy, SIS, or forced to stay." She shifted herself, moving her glass to the opposite hand to wrap an arm around his shoulders as she made herself comfortable. "Between the two of us, moreso you than I, I think we've earned some off time."
Rub settled for a slow, deep intake of breath as Shika made herself comfortable. The weight and warmth of something familiar was welcoming. A grounding back into reality, even. Some semblance of the sort of bonds shared by countless others across their lines. Men and women - mates, sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, cousins...family. Something the Irken had no concept of and sought to destroy what they did not understand.
"...if the Irken had not invaded and you remained retired...vhat vould you be doing right now? What vere your plans after the Navy?" He queried out of authentic curiosity. Conversation among friends in fleeting moments to be had while the opportunity presented itself...even if it was merely to calm fraying nerves and contending with the inevitable.
"Well," she gestured in the general direction of where the spaceport outside the city used to reside, "After I got out I took up piloting small liners for civilians. Going between the various colonies and what not. Wasn't too bad a career, to be honest, always enjoyed the flight." She paused, "I put off getting into dating someone in civilian life. I was thinking I was going to...and then, well, you know." She sighed and shook her head, "Just my luck."
"A collective afterthought many of us have shared," Rub summarized with a huff, simply taking in the moment and all it entailed. "...you sought to travel and see vhere the stars took you. What the colonies had to offer...I vanted to conclude my service as my father and his father and so on. As long as there has been a Federation, 'Akho men have served. Some career, some briefly. I vas undecided vich path I vas to take. Having so many years in and achieving Lieutenant, there vas no sense in not seeing it through for the retirement benefits alone...but here ve are."
He paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts while embracing the warmth and weight of the woman seated against him in his lap. Something alive. Something familiar. Comfort where there was none to be found.
"...my family owns land deep in the Shalshaska mountain range. Far avay from Tallum. Several generations have called it home. A humble cabin our ancestors built vith their own hands nestled in the valley between great snow-capped peaks. Evergreen forest stretching as far as the eye can see with bountiful game. Harsh winters and short summers, ve never vent hungry vith our ancestral knowledge of the land and its offerings. Father to son, ve made sure ve could hunt, track, and dress game early on. To make use of the surroundings and survive vith the bare minimum if need be."
He nodded to the battered, beaten, scratched, but meticulously-cleaned and cared for rifle of a pattern design unseen in combat in centuries.
"That rifle has put food on the table for several generations of families, passed from father to son…"
Rub paused, his face screwing tight in a mixture of anguish and anger before regaining his composure with the aid of a hearty drink to bitterly burn his throat.
"...and that tradition vill end vith me."
Shika placed her head against Rub's following his rather forlorn statement. She knew how he felt, she was basically the last of her family for all she knew. Her siblings and even her parents were in the Navy. If they were still around...who knows.
"If it means anything, I know how you feel. I have no clue if anyone else survived. My brothers and I, none of us have had kids yet. You're not the only one looking at the death of a lineage that goes back to the days of sail." Her hand seemed to cling tighter to him, somewhat reflexively. Something she hated thinking about.
He felt Shika's ever-increasing grip. Anxious and desperate for solace. All he could offer was a rotating of his wrist and take up her hand in comfort. A subtle, constant squeeze. Something to ground both of them back in reality and the moment. To not be overcome with grief or despair for that which was beyond their control.
"Knowing my siblings live and fight alongside me has kept me sane. Barely, but it has succeeded. Ve are fortunate...depending on your outlook and perspective. Ve yet live, numerous enough and in good health. Ve can rebuild anew...assuming ve make it out of this alive."
Once more, the marksman paused. This time, not out of overwhelming grief, but careful consideration. A reprieve to gather his thoughts and weigh them appropriately before speaking in this rare moment of peace. Motivated and inspired by the conversation at hand and current company held fast in his arms, his attention drifted to the viewport and the war-torn skyline of Tallum in the deep hours of the night.
"...vhat ve have lost ve cannot replace...but ve have persevered this long. Survived this long, if not stubbornly. Our branches have been severed from the tree of our people...but perhaps another could grow in its place vith enough time and cultivation?"
"One of the few things that keeps me going, the knowledge we can rebuild...and build something even better on the other side." Her hand held his, taking a breath as she took a few moments to think. "That's why I'm looking forward to making it out of here. Especially with those who are among the finest we have left standing. Couldn't think of a better bunch I would want to stand with right now."
Rub couldn't help but give a humorless huff of a laugh.
"Vell, the alternative to that is laying down and dying vithout so much as a fight. Those unvilling or unable to do what is necessary have long since perished. If ve had the numbers of those that remain here and now, the Empire vould be promptly forced off vorld. I am not one for glory...but these days are the making of history and our people vill remember it for generations to come...and I vill see to it that the Empire does as vell."
A pause. Reality check. A sigh.
"...but...I vill likely not survive to see the fruit of our labors. So long as it is known I did not cower and served to the best of my abilities, I vill die vith peace...but...through some miracle...if ve manage to escape Tallum…"
He gave Shika's hand a firm, purposeful squeeze.
"...maybe you could show this hermit around the colonies?"
Shika almost grinned with the squeeze and what followed. "You have a great Navy pilot here, you're very hard to kill. While we may disagree on your odds, I'm extremely hopeful. I'll get us off Vort, count on that, and I'll be happy to show you around the colonies. I'm sure we'll be extremely busy moving between them after we get out of here."
The prospect alone saw water return to the well of hope that ran dry. It wasn't much, but it was something. Something to look forward to. Idealistic and naive, but it was better than waiting for a better death at uncaring, unflinching hands.
"Hard to kill...I am quite persistent and stubborn, aren't I?" Rub observed with a chuckle.
No, there was true hope. The internal strife, however miniscule, within their enemies, was growing. They were a part of it, to aid in toppling the Empire from within. It would not all be for naught. No, they had to fight to live, not to hold out for the bitter end.
The mental tug-of-war he waged back and forth since the beginning of his arrival finally saw a conclusion. Unraveling his hand and arm from Shika's midsection, his bottle sat down, Rub's palms grasped her by either side of her waist.
He had a plan.
"Stand up for a moment. My leg is falling asleep." He deceptively spoke.
"Oh, sorry-" she slipped off of his lap and to her feet, keeping her glass in hand.
Rather than placate her apology, he waited for her to stand fully. Once on her feet, he took hold of her unoccupied wrist. Purposely tugging, Shika was brought off-balance and all but fell against him in the chair.
A little too hard in retrospect as even her lithe form held enough inertia pressing into his ribcage to aggravate the healing fractures there. Rub grit his teeth with a placated smirk and grunt of pain as he moved to envelop her narrow waist with his arms and draw her close in his lap, facing him.
"...this vent a little smoother in my head." He admitted with a huff as the pain subsided. "...now that I can breathe again...I'm tired of looking at Tallum outside the viewport. The view in here is a little more inviting."
She seemed concerned at first, but only laughed as she adjusted herself to make herself more comfortable in her current position. "Is it now? Well, that is it you intend to do with this view, Lieutenant?" Her tone came off more relaxed than official, an obvious smirk on her face. The familiarity in the moment was more than welcome, wanted even, especially with the uncertainty of the hours to come upon them.
The mild concern held his approach was too heavy-handed subsided quickly as she was receptive. The shift in tone and relaxed body language made such abundantly clear that he was not alone in his assumptions.
He adjusted his posture in his seat with Shika on his lap, straddled, and facing him. A rather suggestive and provocative arrangement. One intentionally pursued as the marksman's arms enveloped her waist. Emerald eyes sought her own.
"Let's not be so formal. I put up vith that enough as it is…" Rub offered, one arm extraditing itself from her waist. Its hand rose to her fair visage, tipping her chin while his thumb came to rest along her jaw. "...far as intentions go...both of us may be hours from death. Ve are idling about vaiting for those final orders...this moment is ours and may be our last to call such...I vant to spend it vith current company the best vay I know how...unless there are objections, of course."
"I see no reason not to," one hand rose to meet the sniper's cheek, "if you're absolutely certain, I'm up for this...just let me…" She leaned towards one of the consoles, punching some buttons to darken the viewports from the outside. "There, total privacy."
"I'm am certain of nothing, but I do know what I vant," Rub spoke as she concluded with lowering the blast shields for the viewport.
The cockpit door was already locked. Had been since his arrival and settling in for a drink. Only he and Shika remain, isolated from the encroaching downfall of their homeworld at the hands of unstoppable transgressors wrought of betrayal. Just for a moment, it would fade away. Be distant, background noise at best. A welcome reprieve having spent the better part of the past several months in a never-ending walkback after countless routs. No orders, not right now. No objectives. No targets. No fighting...only Shika.
That mental assertion saw his arm wrap tighter around her waist, pressing her chest into his. His hand at her cheek remained, guiding the girl's lips to his own for a slow, smoldering kiss of ever-increasing depth.
Her eyes shut as she sank into the moment, fully fixated on Rub. The die was cast, nothing to do about it. For now, however, there was this, and she wanted it as much as he did…