Our Darkest Days: Lost Souls

[Elaine Alastor]

Elaine was floating in blackness. There was no sound. She could feel nothing. No pain. No fear. Only the emptiness of a vacuum. Time had ceased to have meaning. There was just this almost comforting nothingness all about her. Nothing.. Gradually something intruded into the void, an irritating consistent noise. Over and over it began to demand her attention, pulling her from quiet resignation back toward unwanted reality.

Her ears were ringing. Sounds were horribly muffled, as if she'd stood too near a fireworks display at some feast. She could place the annoyance, that was perpetually rhythmic, as an alarm. Heavy-lidded aqua eyes struggled to open and fix upon something, anything. What they finally settled on was a crossed pattern that she recognized as the floor. Disoriented as to why the floor was above her rather than beneath, Elaine flinched as though she were falling, but she remained as she was.

The next thing that came to her attention was that her body was weighted down, not only by the body strewn atop her, but also by the wreckage atop the body. This would account for why is was suddenly so hard to breath.

Images began to put themselves together in her mind, memories of the events that had led to this moment. Laser blasts. Turbulence. The panicked screams of the diplomats as their vessel was going down. Aaron staunchly refusing to leave the cockpit, staying at the helm as he tried in vain to right their course and land the damaged and failing ship safely. Her yelling back at him that she was not going to go cower in a hole with the others. In the end as the ship crashed he had thrown himself across her to protect her from the buckling ship.

Flexing her fingers now she found them occupied. She'd squeezed his hand so hard even were he lucky enough to survive, he may be minus a few withered digits. Shifting her position she tried to assess the damage and see if she could rouse him. "Aaron...? Talk to me..?" There was no response and she was certain if her voice had come out as a whisper or a scream since she could not hear.

"Aaron...?", she wiggled, and the wreckage gave a groan which made her be still before she made things worse.

Lifting her head she could see a trickle of blood running from his hairline, across his cheek and jaw. He'd taken a nasty blow to the head. She had to get them free somehow, but she very much doubted she had the strength. If she scooted her hips just enough she would be able to slip out from beneath him, but the debris might shift again. It was a risk she had to take. Moving slowly and carefully she slid herself inch by agonizing inch out from under the former Hapan Commodore. She was sore in too many places to count, but she could move and that was good enough for the present.

Finally gaining her freedom, she sat up and knelt over Aaron's inert form. Leaning down, she tore loose a piece of the silly chemise that poked out from under her borrowed jacket. She wiped at the blood and wished she had some useful medical training. If he needed stitches the best she could do was fancy embroidery. A nervous laugh brought tears to her eyes. Without him she was lost.

"Aaron Belargic, I command you to wake up this instant." It was worth a try...

[Aaron Belargic]

In darkness, Aaron dreamt. He was aboard the Arbirator, standing aboard the bridge of the battle-cruiser in full naval regalia. His arms crossed behind his back, he looked out across the vast and dazzling expanse of the Hapes Cluster. Dozens upon dozens of star star systems, both near and far, shone like exquisite jewels. He saw the swirling gases of Relephon, its moons strung about it like a strand of opalescent, Lalmy'ashian pearls. Gallinore glimmered in all the hues of a rainbow. The brittle yet enchanting shimmer of Algnadesk. Nearest and most curious of them all was Shedu Maad, whose surfaced was obscured by shadow that churned like an ocean on the brink of storm.

The Commodore turned slowly from the visa before him and looked into the faces of his crew. To a man, they were staring back at them. Each frozen at their posts, some with hands poised over computer terminals, others pouring over data-readouts together. Like him, they wore the blue and gold of the Hapan Royal Navy, each dressed in such an immaculately fashion that even the Queen Mother herself would not be offended to look upon them.

Though some of them were young, each one had been with him for years. Whether green boy or grizzled veteran, they had called the Arbitrator their home and Belargic their Commodore without question. What else could a man ask for in life? Though their ship was not the grandest in the Hapan Royal Navy, their mandate was one of great importance: to guard the borders of the Consortium from those who would harm it. They were the Hapes Clusters first line of defence against whatever barbarity the Galaxy foolishly threw at it. The first and last thing intruders saw, Belargic made certain of that.

He smiled at them all, the wistful smile of a man in his rightful place.

And then he drew his pistol, and one by one began to shoot them.

“Aaron Belargic, I command you to wake up this instant!”

With a startled grunt, Aaron was awake and bashing his head against the surface beneath him. His eyes screwed shut as he rolled onto his side, though within seconds he regretted the decision to move. He sucked breath beneath his teeth as pain, stabbing at his side, froze him. The agony burned through him, banishing any residual fog of his unconsciousness within seconds.

He could smell smoke and taste iron. His head throbbed, the pulse ache beating the same rhythm against the inside of his skull as the screech of a siren did to his ears.

His eyes rolled, wandering wildly across what he saw above him. There were chairs and computer terminals hanging from the ceiling and the Hapan Princess knelt over him, wearing the uniform of a junior officer.

“No... no. This can't be. I'm still dreaming,” he managed, his voice a croak.

[Elaine Alastor]

Relief washed over her. Thank the stars he was alright! Scooting around the wreckage, she gently lifted his head up on to her lap, to better treat the bleeding wound. Leaned over him, she dabbed at the wound while she spoke softly, but with obvious alarm in her voice. "You are not dreaming. We've definitely had some manner of accident."

For the first time since her own rude awakening, Elaine glanced around at the rest of the damage. No one else was moving. The alarm continued to blast her pounding head, but she wasn't sure what to do about it. Staying with Aaron seemed more important. "Can you move? We need to get this..whatever this is.. off of you." With his head still in her lap, she put her hands to the heap of metal and gave it an experimental push.

[Aaron Belargic]

With a shove, the metal plate that was pinning down the lower of Aaron's body slid to the ground – or the ceiling, as the case might be. Aaron grimaced as he gave his legs a testing stretch. Everything ached, but nothing immediately screamed 'broken' or 'torn' to him. What did scream at him however, aside from the incessant siren, was the realisation that his head was laying in the Chume'da's lap.

Though it pained him, he struggled to sit up, casting dark eyes about the interior of what was obviously a capsized shuttle. Propping himself up on one elbow, he peered at motionless albeit lavishly dressed body and remembered the faces of the noble party he'd commandeered this diplomatic barge from.

A short while ago, he'd become condemned to a face worse than death: exile from the Hapes Consortium. Like all men in exile, it was expected that he'd take his own life. When he'd made a promise to help the Hapan Princess escape from Hapes, he hadn't even imagined that putting his life in jeopardy would mean putting the lives of a dozen others in peril too.

There were no weapons aboard a ship like this, but that didn't mean that it was harmless. The faint smell of smoke was enough to rouse panic inside of Aaron. Just one ill-fated spark could turn the upturned barge into a pyre.

“We... all need to get out of this ship, now,” he said, pushing himself up onto his knees. “It's not safe here.”

[Elaine Alastor]

As Aaron struggled in the cramped space to his feet, Elaine breathed a sigh of relief that he was intact. She could not manage this on her own. Accepting his hand and aid to gently lift her to her own feet, she could not agree more, they needed to get out of here. It was not just the sight of the bodies, or the horribly skewed equilibrium of walking on the the ceiling with chairs hanging upside-down before you that disturbed her. She was inclined to agree with the exiled Commodore, this place seemed to be breathing it's last figurative breaths. If it did not explode directly, they were going to lose air quality or some other such calamity eventually.

On careful toes, Elaine began edging around the debris on the floor...ceiling.. whichever, that was in her path. When she came to the body of the pilot whose place she had taken, horror made her look away. He had died for nothing, and he was not the only one. It seemed most of the diplomatic party had not survived the crash. Tears like diamonds trickled down her smoke-stained cheeks leaving little trails. This was all her fault.

Sniffing back emotions that would not help them escape the ship, the Princess spotted the familiar form of the assigned dignitary, Rouslyn Irimore. Swallowing back bile, Elaine took note of the structural beam that had gone straight through her near her shoulder. As she would have looked away, Lady Irimore opened her eyes. "Aaron! She's alive!", her normally cultured tones coming out as an emotional, throaty rasp. Elaine dropped to her knees before Lady Irimore.

"Have we reached Maires?", Irimore asked quite seriously. "This is the most tedious flight.."

[Aaron Belargic]

He hobbled towards Elaine, trying to massage feeling back into his legs with each hobbling step. However bad he felt, the sight of Rouslyn Irimore reminded Aaron that he was fortunate to be on his feet. The metal shard skewered through Lady Irimore's shoulder was as wide as Aaron's fist. Blood had soaked had tunic and her eyes fluttered. Aboard the Arbitrator, he'd seen little in the way of combat wounds like this – but Belargic knew enough to know that Rouslyn Irimore was unlikely to see Maires again.

“Maires?” Aaron steadied himself with one palm against a nearby wall and shared a wary glance with Elaine as she looked up at him, tear-tracks on her cheeks. “Not.. yet.”

“How.. dreadful,” Lady Irimore gurgled, her face scrunching and contorting into something resembling a toad. “I.. I think I should like to retire to bed, then.”

Aaron looked away. It was ridiculous, but even now duty compelled him to help the wounded woman. He looked to Elaine for direction, deferring as always to her superior status.

[Elaine Alastor]

Giving a sidelong glance to Aaron, Elaine shrugged out of her jacket, tucking it around Lady Irimore gently, making her as comfortable as she could manage. She concealed the worst of the wound, and tucked a sleeve up against the woman's cheek to cushion her weak head. "Of course, my lady. Let me secure accommodations for you. Rest now.", she commanded.

Rising to her feet, Elaine brought her 'official' smile into play, giving her the appearance of cool, collected confidence. "Commodore, come with me."

She did not wait, moving several feet away from the diplomat, she turned back to Aaron.Elaine was obviously shaken, but she was not in denial. "She's going to die.", she confirmed. She had no idea what to do. The only thing that she knew for certain was that Lady Irimore was about to die right in front of them and she was powerless to control it.

"If we move her, it will only cause her pain or hasten the end, and it will not save her.", she breathed the words, as soft as a whisper, and still her voice managed to crack a little with emotion. "..and we can't stay. What do we do?"

[Aaron Belargic]

Aaron closed his eyes for a moment. There was blood on his hands now. If he hadn't taken control of the diplomatic barge, Lady Irimore and her entourage would have safely arrived on Maires by now. She would never see Maires, or anywhere else in the Consortium, again.

"We leave her," he said, at last.

It wasn't what he wanted to say, but what he needed to say. In defying the Queen Mother, he had damned them as much as he had damned himself. It was nothing short of a miracle that both he and the Princess were still standing, relatively unscathed.

"We leave her," he repeated, his voice hushed as he turned his back on Lady Irimore. "Now, before this ship becomes a tomb to all of us."

[Elaine Alastor]

Elaine wanted to argue. To voice some kind of protest that there must be some other alternative to this, but there wasn't. She wanted to go and sit stubbornly at the side of the dying woman and refuse to leave her until the end. Lady Irimore was a loyal diplomat, a subject, one of her people. She deserved better than to give up her life because of the selfish whims of one unhappy Princess.

Recovering her grace, Elaine squared her shoulders and did not look back to Lady Irimore. Aaron was right, and she had known. She had just needed his conformation on the situation. Looking to him now, she nodded and hoped he had some idea as to their next move. "What can I do?"

[Aaron Belargic]

Don't die. It was the only answer he could think of, but Aaron kept his mouth firmly shut. Looking around at the broken bodies, the weight of his treason had never felt so heavy on his shoulders. If he wasn't strong and focused, it would be easy to give into grief and despair – but the Princess gave him a purpose. He needed to get her home. Whether she agreed to it or not, returning Elaine to Hapes prime was the most important thing. He couldn't risk her life any further than he had done already... but Lady Irimore's shuttle had about as much chance of taking off as Aaron had of ever regaining the Queen Mother's favour.

“Just.. stay close to me please, princess,” he sighed, as they picked their way through the inverted hallways of the ship. Aaron set his pain aside, his mind full of too many unanswerable questions to be concerned with a few aches and scrapes. In short time, they found the exit ramp and managed to coax it halfway open. With the ship on its back, the ramp swung towards the sky.

“One moment,” Aaron held up a hand as he ducked through the opening and took his first step onto solid ground. Partially solid ground, at least. It gave a little under his weight. Beneath the smell of smoke, there was a scent of something damp and earthy. Edging out further, Aaron got his first glimpse of their landing site: the swamplands of Shedu Maad.

Trees rose out of the fog, towering tens of feet above them. To the south, the canopy above had been splintered. Vague memories of the shuttle ploughing through branches came to mind. Aaron shook his head, dismissing them. There would be time to survey the land later.

He held a hand out to the Princess.

“Careful... the ground here is uneven.”

[Elaine Alastor]

Slipping her ladylike fingers into Aaron's offered hand, Elaine followed as he had done, ducking gracefully as she exited the crash. In contrast, it was rather unladylike how her mouth remained open in an expression of shock as she looked around. The heels of her shoes, designed for treading upon marble halls and thick-piled carpets, instantly sank into the ground, throwing off her balance a little.

"Well.. we're out.", she stated the obvious in her post traumatic daze, looking to Aaron with worry and determination in her eyes.

It was obvious they couldn't stay here. The ship was dangerous, they were lucky to have gotten out at all. Luckier still that it had not exploded, not yet. There was only one thing to decide really. "Which way do we go?"

[Aaron Belargic]

“Away from the wreck,” was Aaron's first answer. He'd already begun to put some distance between the ship and the two of them. A glance over his shoulder confirmed what he feared: a column of dark smoke was rising into the air from the downed shuttle. The smoke would act as a beacon, though whose attention it seized was another matter entirely.

“We should move to higher ground. If,” he faltered, as he struggled to step through a particularly boggy patch of mud, “When a rescue party comes to find you, I want to be able to see the markings on their vessels.”

[Remy Lafleche]

“You're getting a little ahead of yourself there, Commodore.”

A voice called out, from within the unbroken trees some twenty feet to the rear of the wreckage. Obscured at first by the thick dark smoke billowing out of the grounded shuttle, a figure emerged into the clearing that the crash had created – a blaster in his hand, pointed directly at Aaron. Walking with a slow swagger in his step, he grinned as he considered the two rather sorry looking faces staring back at him in confusion.

“Your highness – I'd be much obliged if you'd relieve the Commodore of his pistol. Throw it to me, quick as you like.”

[Elaine Alastor]

Considering the fact that everyone else in proximity was supposedly dead, or dying at present, the sound of a sudden voice was sufficient enough to give the Hapan Princess a startle. Her hand tightened on Aaron's. Without being told, Elaine stepped closer to his side, peeking around him at their sudden company.

Her golden brows lifted a bit in astonishment at the looks of the fellow intent on making a bad day worse. She was pretty sure this was the very last sort of company she should find herself keeping. Let alone, taking direction from. The fact that he knew who they were made this a very bad situation. Elaine's mouth opened to ask a polite question, but she was summarily advised to not ask it, or at least that was the translation as she understood it from the sudden shaking of his dark head, and the repositioning of his hand on his blaster.

Feeling slightly sick, her uncertain gaze swung from the scoundrel, to Aaron hoping he had some sort of idea on how to deal with this sort of situation. Elaine was absolutely certain he was a man of his word on this subject. He would shoot Aaron without a second thought. Her hopeful gaze was quickly turning into one of apology as her hands went to his waist, to relieve him of his weapon.

[Aaron Belargic]

At the sound of a stranger's voice, Aaron's fingertips had twitched towards his blaster – but froze a moment away from the pistols grip. Had he been alone, there was a chance Aaron might have been able to quickly slip into cover and draw. With Elaine at his side, however, that was just too risky. One stray blaster bolt might turn the smouldering wreck of the shuttle into an exploding wreck.

Wondering yet again how he had managed to get into such a wretched situation, Aaron unbuckled the gun belt around his waist, handed it to Elaine and fought the urge to sigh as she cautiously threw it to the stranger. The man wore a coat that was not entirely different to those worn in the Royal Navy, though this one had clearly seen better days. Aaron frowned.

“There are officers of Her Majesty's Royal Navy are tracking our ship. They will be here momentarily.”

[Remy Lafleche]

Remy caught the gun-belt and, edging closer to the Commodore and the Princess, managed miraculously to keep a steady footing on the uneven ground, though the swampy earth squelched beneath his boots.

“The fellow in the starfighter?” he asked, then shook his head. “Went down about as gracefully as you did, mate – and might as well be parsecs away, for all the good he'll do you.”

With his own blaster still trained on Aaron's chest, Remy worked the Commodore's pistol out of its holster and tossed the belt aside. A glance at the pistol revealed that the energy cell was not quite spent. He smiled and slid his gaze up to Elaine, an eyebrow arched.

“But by all means, wait here for your officers, Commodore. I'll be escorting her highness elsewhere,” he said, beckoning Elaine to come forward.

[Elaine Alastor]

So, there was another crashed ship somewhere that she could add to her sins. Looking down at her ruined shoes, quickly getting saturated with mud, Elaine shook her head cursing herself. She knew what she had to do though, and she could tell by looking at the dark-haired one that he already knew she was going to do it. Slowly, she stepped in front of Aaron, putting her precious royal self between him and a blaster bolt. She shook her head at her... rescuer, to indicate that she did not intend to try anything stupid. She knew very well he had the advantage, for now.

Turning around to face Aaron, she looked up with a brave face. "Here ends your service to me, Commodore.", she said officially speaking. She was trying to save his life.

In a somewhat more hushed tone she spoke only low enough for him. "Do not wait for more ships. Go, and keep going. I'm worth more to him alive than dead. He's not going to harm me."

"I'm sorry for the trouble I've caused you." Her words were sincere. Had she known the cost of her actions today, she might have stayed obediently at home.

"I'm sure my rescuer expects an obedient charge, so I know he shall be a man of his word, and we will leave you to await your officers.", she said over her shoulder, backing up until she was within easy reach.

[Aaron Belargic]

Confusion bled into Aaron's expression as he watched Elaine back away. Was he being... dismissed? Again? He couldn't allow Elaine to go, could he? Especially not with such an unscrupulous looking character. After everything he'd done and all the trouble he'd caused, he couldn't add 'losing the Hapan Princess in the jungles of Shedu Maad' to the list of his crimes. There was no telling where this - brigand would take her and to what end, and yet Elaine had told Aaron to go.

He stood frozen on the spot, trying to reconcile his innate impulse to obey the word of the princess as law, and his gut feeling that letting Elaine walk away would be a huge mistake. Not for the first time lately, Aaron felt his tenious control of the situation at hand slipping through his fingers.

“I.. can't.. in good conscience allow you to leave my side, Chume'da.”

[Remy Lafleche]

The Commodore's valiant attempt at defiance earned him a smirk from Remy.

“There'll be plenty of time for you and your conscience to come to terms.”

Though the princess was within arms reach, Remy didn't reach out and grab her. He didn't need anything more than the weapon in his hand to compel her to stay where he wanted her.

He gestured back towards the forest.

“This way, your highness.”

[Elaine Alastor]

Elaine was fairly certain that the Commodore was not being given a choice in the matter. She would be leaving here without him, whether because he did as she asked and remained behind, or because she watched him get shot down, just like one of those poor creatures her brother Tristan was so fond of hunting. She could not allow that to happen if she could prevent it.

"You can. You will.", she confirmed. "Stay with the ship, Commodore. That is an order." Elaine did not often throw her influence as the Hapan Princess around. She did not have to. Her requests were spoken softly and obeyed in an instant.

Leaving the safety of Commodore Belargic's company was.. regrettable, but also necessary at this point. As she was directed, Elaine began walking forward toward the line of trees that would obscure her from Aaron's sight with finality. As she walked, her hands crossed over her chest suddenly aware of the lack of apparel she now wore, having left her borrowed jacket with the dying diplomat, Lady Irimore. Her sodden satin heels sank into the mud as she went, as if it too was trying to prevent her from leaving the Commodore's side.

Just before she vanished with the brigand, Elaine turned back quickly, mouthing a single word to the Commodore.

"Go..."