Obsidian Gun.

The sun arced over the horizon as the Aeolian rose above the thick cloud bank covering the calm, deep blue sea beneath. The engines hummed quietly, and she smoothly emerged out of the place of concealment she had been hiding in a few short moments ago.
“Heldak, the bastard and his ship, the Renegade is in sight, flanked by two marauder carriers.” A lean young man named Karnet said, glancing up from his consol. His blonde hair was drenched in sweat and his green eyes were bloodshot and tired looking.
“That bastard Relmart will be as good as dead” Heldak mused quietly, running his fingers through his grey shot hair. His eyes grew fierce and he shifted his stocky body around on his seat. “Dalel!” he shouted.
“Yes Heldak?” Dalel replied. Dalel was a tall man who had long mousy brown hair; dark eyes and a seemingly permanent snarl fixed his upper lip.
“Get word to our crew that we have found the target, victory shall be ours.”
“At once Heldak!” Dalel saluted, moving to a panel that had obscure statistics flashing across it, ”All crew members move to status five, this is not a drill, prepare for combat.” He spoke into a microphone. Alarms rang out all over the ship. A short way behind him, a door clanked open on squeaking hinges, and a small young woman dressed in the standard black and gold uniform of the Empire entered. She had auburn hair and grey eyes that were hard with a suppressed hurt bordered by dark circles.
“I take it you found our traitor?” she said in a soft, dangerously quiet voice. Her speech was slurred slightly and her eyes a bit unfocused. 
“Yes Lady Arian, he’s right out in the open and his ship’s power is at minimal charge.” Heldak answered. Lady Arian was part of the ruling aristocracy, and the Aeolian belonged to her. 
“Good, his head WILL be on a platter for the charges of murder, high treason and other numerous offences against the emperor.”
“Silver, gold or just plain brass?” the young hothead, Faeore asked politely, her red, braided hair catching against her impish looking tanned face.
“Mud, or maybe a pile of dog crap I think ma’am.” Melraln offered. He was a youngish man with wheat blonde hair and deep blue eyes.
“The latter one sounds fine to me Melraln.” Arian replied with a faint smile touching her stern face.
“Well Relmart, you always were a good dancer, but this dance may just baffle you” Dalel muttered. “Combat mode ready, fire missiles at those carriers, and someone please make sure ol’bastard over there stays alive long enough to endure our lady’s displeasure!” He smirked.

“Ah, if it isn’t my old friend Arian, come to extract her vengeance on my poor body.” Relmart said in a chilling, deep voice. He was seven feet tall or so, and immensely muscled. His dark black hair tumbled loosely down his shoulders. “Soon, very soon, you will see what true power I have at my command, my dearly departed friends, and then you shall be as existent as my code of honour.” He laughed.
“`^¬><=*_-@?!” A jumbled message appeared on a nearby screen, accompanied by a bleeping tone emerging from one of the speakers.
“Damacels, how many times have I told you not to speak in that baby talk?” Relmart replied in a tired voice.
“Force-of-habit-master.” A slow halting voice replied.
“No matter,” he sighed; “ You are in complete control of the ship now?” He questioned.
“Have-finished-set-task-01-master” the genderless voice answered.
“Good, ready the Devastator to fire as soon as you sense imminent missile launch.”
“Logic-computations-set. Equations-acquired-and-configured. Routine-has-been-set.”
Nearby, a Carrier exploded and shrapnel pounded against the side of the Renegade. 
“How tiresome, deal with those imperial dogs today Damacels.”
“Devastator-charged. Attack-proceeding.”
“En garde, Mon Amis” Relmart said to no one in particular.

“Fire all weapons!” Heldak roared. Smoke was filling the bridge and flames licked various areas around the room. Nearby, a screen exploded, showering the room in sparks.
“Dalel, what in the hells just happened?” Arian exclaimed, her short-cropped hair ruffled, and her small perfect face had dark smudges staining her fair skin.
“Shit, shit, shit.” Dalel cursed, stamping the flames on his jacket out. Reaching out, he hit the button that set the sprinklers off and a gentle rain drifted like mist over the fires extinguishing them.
“I see,” She said dryly, rolling her eyes skywards. “Faeore, how are we doing?”
“Well, I think we are just about okay, but people in the two pontoons weren’t so lucky, I would say twenty out of 30 killed. I think Garton, Jaice, Eldemen and Zosicate are okay though.”
“Damn. Those were some good men we lost today.” Melraln said in a glum voice.
“Garton and that lot were in the engine room at the time, so the shielding protected them.” Karnet explained.
“That is some good news at least.” Arian muttered, “anyway, how did they damage us so badly in one shot?”
“Devastator.” Dalel said simply.
“Fuck, is that thing operational already?” Heldak exclaimed.
“So it would seem.” Melraln said.
“He shot us just as we lowered our shield to attack his vanguard.” Karnet said, “And there were no ships present at all on those two vessels. It was all a trap to increase the damage done to our ship.”
“Crap, why didn’t we expect this?” Heldak swore, kicking a pile of rubble from under his feet.
“No one could have, he is a smart old dog.” Arian said calmly.
“How can you be so blasé ma’am?” Dalel questioned, “We are outnumbered, out manned and have as much chance of winning as Faeore has in bedding the Emperor.”
“So we are going to win then.” Faeore exclaimed. A few eyebrows shot up, and she blushed.
“Ahem, our success has nothing to do with our little madam’s victories, for want of a better word.” Arian slyly said.
“That will be a neat parlour trick to pull off, stopping our untimely end.” Heldak grunted.
“Just check your radar,” She said smugly,“ Reinforcements have arrived.”
“Oh fuck, that isn’t one of our ships ma’am!” Faeore screamed.
“Can things get possibly any worse?” a new voice replied. From behind them, a group of four emerged from a battered down door. Garton was at the front, his bald head shining in the dim red-toned light, he had dark brown skin and a short black beard.  His eyes were a fierce hazel, and there were crows’ feet beneath his eyes.
Behind him was the muscle-head, Jaice. His short, crew cut bleached blonde hair was stained with smoke, and one of his icy blue eyes was bloodstained. “Afternoon all.” 
“Isn’t that an understatement?” Eldemen said dryly. He stumped forward, his dwarfed body hunched over with his copper hair and beard sticking out in all directions.
“Hmph, That is all Jaice does.” Zosicate replied, her long flowing coal black hair touching her waist, and two metallic green highlights framing her alabaster skin.
"At least you are all ok" Arian breathed a sigh of relief. "Any other survivors?"
Garton shook his head sadly, "None, the pontoons have been completely destroyed."
Zosicate frowned, "What was all the swearing about anyway?"
"That" Dalel said in a weak voice, pointing with a shaking hand.
"Oh hell! What type of ship is that?" Eldemen grunted.
"Uraian I think." Karnet replied with a concerned look on his young face. The ship outside the port window was of a peculiar build, with two long jutting wings in an L shape, and a strangely alien body. It pulled up in front of the Aeolian. 
“Audio visual transmission coming through Captain.” Melraln said.
“Go ahead, and let’s try to be civil my friends. We’ll find out what he or she wants.”

A large monitor in the centre of the bridge crackled with static and after awhile it cleared and a short man with hair of pure white combed into a middle parting, calm turquoise eyes and a pale complexion appeared. He wore an odd suit of chain mail and a three-quarter-length jacket of pure white, and a tight fitting shirt of black covered the skin all the way to his wrists. Arian gasped with shock.
“Long time no see Lady Arian,” he said in a calm, quiet voice. “How is Cerana doing?”
“My daughter is fine Ceran, and she’s married now.” Arian replied, her face troubled. Something about this mans appearance was upsetting her.
“Give the lucky man my regards.” Ceran said urbanely, “You should take better care of your ship, it took me ages to build her and I don’t want to see her lying on some seabed like a third class scow.” He paused, “And yourself for that matter you shouldn’t let yourself slip so badly, get some rest.”
“You built the Aeolian?” Heldak spluttered with shock.
“Yes, she lived up to what I expected her to do and she took Relmart’s attack well enough, but she is in no position to fight the Damacels in this condition.”
“Damacels?” Faeore asked, her eyebrows knitted in puzzlement, “That is the Renegade.”
“Indeed it, but Relmart hooked up his little baby to its reactor, and now me and the Phantasm are going to wean it off.”
“What are you doing with a Uraian ship anyway?” Arian pressed.
“Oh, not more bigotry, he isn’t really a Uraian, it’s just we passed through Urai, and we needed some camouflage.” 
“Can you do something about...” Zosicate started to say, but broke off as Relmart’s sneering face appeared on another screen.
“You always pick the wrong times to meddle dog.” Relmart taunted, “I thought I had seen the last of you.”
“I come back like a boomerang, now why don’t you stop hiding in that piece of garbage and fight like a man.”
“The pleasure is mine.” He smiled. The screen his face briefly appeared on darkened.
“All right you lot, explanations come later, but right now I need to deal with the Damacels. Arian, divert all your power to engines and shields and get back a ways, this is going to endanger all of you if you stay close.” And with that, his face disappeared from the main monitor.
“Well, do we believe him or not ma’am?” Eldemen asked, his face creased in thought.
“Of course we do, he’s an old friend and we can trust him, now let us be away from this place, we do not want to be caught up in what happens next.” She assured them.
“And what will happen?” Dalel questioned.
“The destruction of the Renegade.” She said simply, pointing to the port window. They all turned and stared in disbelief. The ship called the Phantasm began to twist and morph, the wings becoming arm-like shapes, with hardly any mobility in them. The strange bridge swivelled on its chassis, becoming a slopping head and the engines at the back moved into place at its base. The final product looked like a Preying Mantis without legs.
Garton gasped, “I have never seen anything like that” he trailed off as the ship began to move. Levelling one of its arms at the Renegade the base slid out from the elbow point, if there even was one, revealing a large cannon with a rectangular end. Particles of light gathered at the barrel and with a peculiar kind of contempt, Ceran fired a single burst of energy directly at the hull. A cheer went up from all but Arian on the Aeolian as the Renegade was utterly destroyed.
“Come on out Relmart, you can’t hide in that fireball forever.” Ceran muttered. His call was soon answered as a spiral of energy scythed its way towards him. With a quick rise of its arm, the Phantasm disrupted the attack, sending the beam into a large rock in the sea below. As the smoke cleared, the Damacels appeared. It had a dragon-like head, and a bipedal body resembling a human in archaic armour. On its right arm was a long weapon bolted into place, a cross of what looked like a sword and a lance.  A burst of energy erupted from the two engines on its back and with its weapon raised the Damacels charged into battle. From the tip of the weapon, shards of light aimed for the Phantasms chest shot out. Dodging quickly, Ceran retaliated with a cascade of shimmering light blades being slung out from under both arms. Reeling from the blows, Relmart countered with more swirling shots of power, which knocked the Phantasm into the recently destroyed pinnacle of rocks that had once stuck out high above the now violently pounding sea.

“You fucking bastard, I’ll get you for that.” Ceran cursed, pulling his ship back into the fight, bursts of engine fire roaring behind it.
The base of the ship, which had been an engine a few minutes ago fired out a torrent of light not unlike the devastator that hit the Aeolian.
“Curse you!” Relmart shrieked, flying back into the air, tumbling and turning from the force of the attack. Sensing his advantage, two small compartments flipped up on either side of the Phantasm’s shoulders, and a ring of green formed an aura around the strange weapons.
“See if you like this, cur.” He taunted, letting lose three circles of energy, glowing in that azure light, at his disorientated enemy. As the rings hit it, bluish-green electricity sparked all over its body and its body hanged forward, its arms and other parts seemingly offline.

“A magna-cannon, you have been busy Ceran, yet so have I.” Relmart smirked, watching as the cannons flipped back into place on its shoulders and arms of the Phantasm and a three fingered, one thumbed hand came out at the end of each limb. Lunging forward, the hands grabbed the shoulders of the Damacels and began to twist its body.
“Foolish man.” Relmart muttered as his ship reactivated at a touch of a button. With his weapon whistling through the air, he laid a blow at the Phantasm’s shoulders, sending the white-haired warrior and his vessel tumbling. Drawing back its foot, Damacels kicked the Phantasm away and lowered its weapon. With the power of its engines building, it readied its fatal charge. As the shields built around its weapon, Relmart exulted.
“Finally I will be free of you and will be able to continue my plans.” His engines rose into a crescendo and the ship blurred as it sped towards Ceran. Almost as quickly as the attack came it faltered as a burst of tracer gunfire from the advancing Aeolian hurled the Damacels sideways.
“NOOOOOOOOO!” Relmart screamed as his plan fell apart. With fury on his face, he turned towards the now motionless vessel and started to infuse his lance with a flickering black energy. The flickering became faster as he charged for the attack, unaware that the Phantasm was in close proximity behind.
“TASTE MY ANGER!” He yelled as he started to release his infernal energy on the powerless craft. His shouts of triumph broke off as Ceran unleashed rows after rows of laser fire. As the pulses tore through it, the Damacels fell to the earth, taking a long time to haul itself back onto its feet.
“You will pay for this.” Relmart spat darkly as he ripped a hole in reality with his lance and jumped into the blackness. The Phantasm was then suddenly surrounded in a strange light, a luminous white which grew brighter and brighter until with a flash the light recoiled. The Phantasm was still there, but to the people on board the battle-scarred ship it looked somehow stronger, bulkier and slightly different in a sense.
“Well then, are you going to open those doors or not, I need a rest.” He said to the crew of the Aeolian.

Chapter 2.

As the victor landed in the dock onboard the Aeolian, the remaining ten of thirty crewmembers were waiting for him. As he emerged from the hull, he looked different from how they saw him on the monitor. His middle parted hair was now slightly more angular, with the front of his hair being separated in right angles to each other.
“Don’t bother asking about the changes.” He said, “You don’t need to know yet.”
“Are you ok, I mean are there any injuries you need to get seen to?” Zosicate asked with a worried look on her alabaster face.
“No, it would take more than that amateur to hurt me.” Ceran replied with a wan smile. He was stooped over slightly trying to get his breath back.
“The-masters-health-is-at-98.7%.” A hollow, genderless voice said from a nearby loudspeaker.
“Who’s that?” Melraln said in alarm, his hand moving for his pistol.
“Whoa, easy there man, its just Phantasm.” He warned, straightening to look at his ship. “Glad you have learnt how to talk, you weren’t a good travelling companion before, with all that silence.”
“Self’s-abilities-increased-by- 25%.” Phantasm replied in that emotionless tone.
“That’s good to hear.” He replied briskly. “Now then Arian, I know I said I would explain now, but something more important has come up. Firstly none of us are in good enough condition to follow Relmart. Secondly he escaped through a shadow gate, meaning I do not have a clue where the bastard is. And thirdly I am hungry, tired and worn out after fighting him.”
“What does this have to do with not explaining?” Faeore asked. Ever since she had seen him, she had made some plans about him being her next conquest.
“Well kid, he means that we should head back to Cerantine Airbase for repairs, and then he will tell us.” Garton said in a kind voice, rubbing at his world-weary eyes.
“And we need some more beer too, we’re starting to run low.” Eldemen laughed roguishly, his fondness for drink and other related entertainment prevailing as always.
“Nice ship you got there, cost much?” Jaice rumbled in his deep voice. He never talked much due to the fact he didn’t find conversation inspiring enough. Inspiring to do what, Arian did not know.
“Arian?” Karnet asked, “How far is it back to Cerantine?” His geography skills were severally lacking, but he made up for it with his intelligence.
“About 12 leagues, so we should get there by tomorrow evening at the earliest.” She replied, making the calculation in her head.
“Hang on,” Dalel asked suspiciously, “why do you want us to get repaired so much?” Dalel was always suspicious, a trait that bred true in his family, a long line of lawyers.
“Because this ship is going to need some improvements if you want it worthy enough to stand a chance. I think I made a mistake when I added the pontoons, they increased the offence, but lowered the structural integrity.” Arian had noticed that his clothing was covered with armour of the same glossy black plate that covered the Phantasm. Slung over one shoulder was a heavy, seven-barrelled rifle.
“So what are you going to do with our ship then?” Heldak asked. The grizzled old captain was a good friend, and a smuggler to boot.
“I went to Urai to pick up some new technology. As soon as we get to Cerantine, I’ll install it for you.” She had always had a bit of a crush on the strange young man, and she only just noticed that he didn’t look any different to how he looked fourteen years ago.
“How much?” Jaice inquired.
“For you, free. The lady here and I are old friends.” Ceran replied, glancing at her. That was true; he had been her best friend all through her teenage years and was the one who introduced her to Baron Voram, the father of her only child and husband.
“I’m sure you are tired Ceran.” Faeore said in a sweet voice, “I know, you can use my spare bed and I will make you a nice lunch... It is lunchtime right?” she asked Zosicate. Typical of her to try and get her hands on any man with a semblance of good looks.
“Seventeen-forty-eight.” She replied, looking up from her watch.
“Oh good, come this way.” She said with a smug smile on her face. Ceran turned to look at her.
“Oh come on now Faeore, I have heard all about you. You really think the lure of your cooking will get me into your bedchamber?” he laughed.
“That’s not fair. It always works.” She pouted, a crestfallen expression on her face.
“I’m sure it does, but I’m good at resisting the charms of young women. You did tempt me a bit though.” He laughed. That was what Arian liked most about him. He could win people over easily and relax the mood.
“You will still come for lunch though?” she asked with a hopeful expression on her face.
“Of course I will, you dishes are as famous as, well your other talents in even the farthest flung tavern.”
“Follow me then my friend, let me indulge you a bit.” They wandered of in the direction of the mess hall.
“How long do you think he can resist her charms?” Karnet asked Eldemen, shifting his holster around on his belt.
“Don’t know.” He stated, looking at the large ship in the docking bay. “Nice fight.”
“Yes it was rather.” Zosicate agreed. Her expression was a bit worried and Arian thought that she might also have some personal interest in the timeless looking man.
“ I don’t know about the rest of you, but I think we should get moving.” Arian said.
“Good plan, Garton and the rest of you get to engineering and do what you can to get us moving quickly, then come up to the bridge with the rest of us.” Heldak ordered.
“Come along people, we need to head back, even if it only is to fill our beer barrels.” Dalel joked.
They all started to file out into various corridors, but just as she was leaving, Arian turned to look at the Phantasm. There was something hauntingly familiar about it, but she shrugged it off and went to the bridge.

“So, how do you like it?” Faeore asked with a nervous expression on her face. For some reason she really wanted his approval.
“I can honestly say it even beats the Emperor’s mothers cooking.” Ceran replied, finishing the last remains of food on his plate.
“I’m glad you like it, and what about the chef who made it?” She said, wrapping her arm around him, her lips very close to his ear. He looked up with distaste.
“Faeore, when will you stop all this?” he demanded crossly.
“What do you mean?”
“Playing the strumpet, you would be much nicer acting a bit more sensible.”
“Why are you saying this, don’t you like me?” she asked, her lower lip trembling.
“That’s not the point.” He said evasively.
“Then what is?” She shouted, stamping her foot.
“You demean yourself sleeping with every man you come across.” He shouted back, coming to his feet.
“Don’t try to dictate my life!” she screamed.
“I’m not, do you want everyone to think you’re some cheep tart?”
“Is that what you think? If it is then I’ll act like one.” She yelled, pulling off the top of her uniform, baring everything and assuming a lusty expression. He drew his hand back and slapped her tanned face.
“You, you hit me!” she said weakly, her voice trembling and her eyes filling with tears.
“I’m sorry but it had to be done. You think acting like this can stop you from ending up like your mother?” He said sternly, grabbing her unbuttoned uniform and wrapping it around her shoulders.
“You never knew her.” She struggled.
“Nonsense, I was at the imperial court at the time you were born and I saw what happened to her after your father left. Do you really think by acting like what lead your father away will stop you turning out like your mother?” He pressed coldly, judging her reaction to his words.

“I don’t know,” she sobbed, “I just don’t know anymore.”
Gently, he took her in his arms as she cried against him.
“I never wanted to do that and I hope you forgive me, just please think over what I said, I have a feeling that more lives than your own depend on this.” 
“I’ll try Ceran.” She mumbled.
“Good, I will be back later to see you.” He said, walking over to the door. “I’m heading back to the Phantasm for a while, so if you want to see me, come there.” He paused. “And yes, you do look nice.”
As soon as he left, Faeore sat down on her bed nursing her cheek. She turned to look at the picture of her mother.
“I was such a fool!” she berated herself, wiping tears from her eyes.

It was quite late at night when Arian finally got to her room she shared with Zosicate, who was asleep with her bed sheets wrapped around her top half. Silently she crossed to her bed and began to undress, pulling off her uniform with obvious relief and slipping into the chemise that Voram had given her. The moon was out at its peak, and the pale light that shone through the window made everything take on an ethereal form.
Lying on her bed, she sighed regretfully. Again Relmart had escaped her revenge for her husband’s death. Reaching out for a bottle, she took a long drink and shuddered as the bitter tasting spirit hit the back of her neck. She felt ashamed that this was her only solution, but now that he was here, she knew in her heart that she could be helped. In truth, she admitted to herself, the marriage to Voram was political, and there always seemed to be a barrier between them. She was fond of Voram, but never truly felt for him as she did for Ceran. He was just so mysterious, walking round in a shroud of power that no one could ever begin to understand. She took another long drink when she realised he was with Faeore, probably rolling around with her on some mattress. Finally, she realised that he would never want anyone, just as he was when she asked him out for the first time. The hours passed as the bottle emptied.
“Looks like I’m not going to get any sleep tonight.” She slurred, hauling herself to her feet and lurching to the bathroom. The first rays of light had begun to show and the sunrise was a deep blood red. Turning the shower tap on, she started to bring her uniform into the room to hang on a rack. Pulling off her alcohol reeking chemise, she wearily put one foot into the spray.
“Shit, this is freezing!” she exclaimed, drawing her foot back. Reaching out to touch the radiator, she found it was dead cold too.
“Guess its cold showers today,” she grunted, “just like boot camp.” Picking up a bar of soap, she began to lather herself down.
“Morning Arian.” Zosicate said, walking into the bathroom with a towel wrapped round her midsection.
“No warm water.” She replied from behind the frosted glass shower-door.
“Well, that should sober you up slightly,” Zosicate replied in a hard voice, picking up Arian’s chemise, “You smell like a bottle of white spirit.”
“It was only one bottle.” She objected, rubbing a flannel over her chest.
“That’s one bottle to many.” She said tartly, pulling the door open.
“What the hell are you doing?” Arian shrieked.
“Getting my bottle of shampoo back.” Zosicate replied, picking up a green glass bottle.
“You could just ask, I am naked in here you know.”
“And?” she replied in a cool voice.
“Just as you like seeing women undressed doesn’t mean I like seeing them too, or being seen undressed for a fact!” She spluttered, pulling a towel off a ring and pulling it over her shoulders.
“So what, I don’t make any passes at you do I?”
“No, but” she started to object.
“Fine then, now get out of there unless you want to share it with me.” Zosicate said slyly, looking at her with an appraising eye.
“You said you wouldn’t do that.” She pouted angrily.
“Special case.” She started to unwrap her towel

“You sound just like Jaice.” Arian accused, stepping out of the shower. 
“He’s not bad, for a man.” She said with a shrug. “Now Ceran, he would be able to turn even my sister Herena’s eye. I’ve never seen a man like him before.”
“Not many have.” She smiled back. Zosicate looked carefully at her.
“So it’s like that then.” She murmured, running the water through her hair.
“I’m heading up to the bridge, see you there?” she hadn’t heard that comment obviously.
“Ok, see you then.”
Arian went to her bed and started to pull her uniform on, drying her hair in the process.
Beyond the horizon, the huge mass of metal that was Cerantine Airbase loomed.

“All right, take us up to five-tenths speed and increase altitude to 30,000 feet” Heldak said to Karnet, who was busily working on a control panel.
“Engines are stable, as is structure Dalel.” Eldemen stated, looking up from the screen.
“Good enough, morning Arian.” He said to the young lady, who had just entered.
“What’s our ETA Melraln?” she asked, nodding her acknowledgement at Dalel.
“Fourteen point twelve hours Arian, we should be there by nine o’clock in the evening.”
“What was all the screaming about?” Garton asked, looking up from a conduit with a spanner in his hand.
“Zosicate decided to come in my shower again ‘by accident’.” She replied, sitting down on her chair.
“Again, that’s the third time this month.” Eldemen called over his shoulder.
“You know those people from Aphen, they’re a weird lot and accident prone.”
“Morning everyone.” Faeore called as she entered. Her normally low-cut uniform was in its original state now, and her braided hair was made without all the additions it normally had.
“Did he keep you up so long that you forgot to put your make-up on?” Heldak chuckled.
“No, we just had a talk, that’s all.” She replied evasively. They all figured out something had happened, so they didn’t press the matter.
“And he is?” Jaice asked, climbing down a staircase.
“He said he would be with the Phantasm, as far as I know, he’s been there all night.”
“Ah, had a nice shower?” Melraln asked in a voice dripping with innuendo to Zosicate, who had just came in.
“Nice enough, except for the cold water.” She said without a trace of embarrassment.
“Sorry about that, we had to direct some power to the reactor, otherwise we would have been floating instead of flying.” Garton apologised.
“A valid point, my friend.” She replied. At that moment, Ceran entered the room, the powerful rifle he carried slung over one shoulder.	
“We’re making better time than we expected.” He said, shifting his plate armour around.
“Why on earth do you carry that stuff, it’s useless nowadays.” Eldemen asked.
“Try shooting it, this ‘stuff’ is the same material that my ship is made of.” He replied, rapping his knuckle on the shoulder plate.
“What were you doing last night?” Zosicate asked with a curious expression.
“Testing out how much the Phantasm had improved since yesterdays battle.”
Setting his rifle down on the floor, he looked around at the repairs that had been going on.
“This seems to be coming on well, you really know how to patch this girl up.” He complimented Garton.
“Your kind to say so,” he returned, pausing to glance at Arian, “This ship has been needful of some quick fixes in its past, I just hope you can fix that we won’t need anymore slap and dash jobs.”
“You are walking on a fine line to treason, comrade.” She said with a hard edge to her voice and her fists clenched.
“Don’t want to break you two up,” Melraln interrupted, “but I think you should look at this.”
On the large screen in the centre of the room, a green-tinted image appeared of a large pipe, which had electricity arcing between the two broken points.
“Main pontoon column A.” Jaice identified.
“Can we shut the power down on both pontoons?” Arian asked, turning away from the now grinning Heldak with a toss of her hair. 
Garton shook his head, “ If only we had more power we could compensate, but in our current state we would jus plummet down.”
“Why not use the Phantasm.” Faeore suggested, wiping her forehead.
“Why didn’t we think of that?” Ceran sighed after a long pause, looking more than a little sheepish.
“Could you wire something up?” Karnet asked Eldemen hopefully.
“Sure I can boy,” he smiled, glancing over at Ceran, “with help of course.”
“Of course.” He replied with a perfectly straight face.

“Changing-power-fluctuations.” Phantasm stated, while wires were being connected by various crewmembers to the huge pulsing reactor in the heart of the Aeolians hull.
“Ok everyone, start the re-polarisation routine.” Garton bellowed at the top of his lungs.
“Stage one has been started.” Faeore confirmed. The huge reddish energy shield surrounding the generator shuddered and began to slowly shift directions.
“It’s steady Eldemen.” Karnet reported, glancing up from one of the various computers scattered around him.
“Good, good. Ceran,” he shouted to the slim warrior who was sitting in the front of the Phantasm, “ready the Magna Cannon.”
The two shoulder plates on the Phantasm flipped up, and the strange weapon turned into position.
“Ready when you are my friends.” He shouted out.
“Alright, Faeore, as soon as we begin, cut power to the pontoons. Karnet, you keep watch on the progress, warn us if anything goes wrong. Garton, you turn the injectors around.”
“Wish me luck.” Ceran called.

The decimated Aeolian crawled through the air, limping on one side. Suddenly the two front pontoons dipped, and the ship started to descend wavering unstably. With a huge tremor it started to rise again, the front of the ship levelling out.

	“Well done, that was excellent work.” Arian complemented them as the five returned to the bridge to join the rest of the crew.
“We’re still not done quite yet Arian.” Ceran said, sitting on a large steel chest.
“We need to land somewhere so we can do just a few more repairs. Then we can move on to Cerantine.” Garton explained, sitting down on a chair and rubbing his temples.
“Why not just do the repairs at Cerantine?” Arian asked. She sat down and pulled her uniform up, brushing a pile of dust off her lap.
“The docking pillars are broken, so we can’t get anywhere near the airbase.” Faeore explained.
“Oh, I see,” she replied while absently running her fingers through her hair, “So we will be there by tomorrow at the latest”
“I think so, we might have to do a all-nighter though if we want to be in time for lunch.”
“Alright then, Heldak!” she yelled.
“Yes Arian?”
“You heard what Faeore said?”
“Yes, I’ll keep things running relatively smoothly.” He replied, lifting a maintenance flap up.
“Good, As for me I have paperwork to be doing.” As she turned to walk to her office, Faeore rather hesitantly followed her into the room where large scrolls were piled on every surface. Arian slowly turned around. 
“I wondered how long it would take to see me.” She said in a neutral voice.
“You look troubled.” Faeore said, sidestepping the real reason for coming to see her.
“Oh, its nothing really, and don’t try to change the subject again. You want to talk about Ceran don’t you.”
“Yes…” she nodded mutely.
“Let me guess, he told you off about your little hobby, right?” she questioned.
Faeore gave a slow nod as a reply, seemingly lost for words.
“I know him very well, and that sort of thing disgusts him.”
Faeore’s eyes looked pained, “You mean he hates me?” she asked, her lip trembling.
“He once told me hate is sterile, so no.”
The young redhead breathed a sigh of relief, then gathered the courage to ask her next question.
“He’s a bit weird isn’t he?”
Arian laughed, “That’s an understatement, I’d describe him as an enigma.” Looking seriously at her, she continued, “Some say that he isn’t human, or that magic created him, or even technology.”
“And do you believe that?”
“Sort of, I have known him for ages now, and he doesn’t seem one bit different that when we first met. But its not really nice to gossip is it?” she smiled.
“You mean, not even one hair out of place?” she gasped.
“Not even one, except yesterday after the battle with Relmart.”