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"Did he see it coming? Dying in a bath of shame?

While all his hopes past him by; And all his fears killed him dry

I can see what he was thinking; It's so easy if you try

Killing yourself with a silver dagger

just to show how much your love Is

worth the pain

Then to hear her cry your name..."

_ - Take me home - After Midnight Project _

• Daishi - voice of an instructor came from the balcony overlooking the main training room - It has been proved through the detailed analysis of countless battles, that there's a limited number of ways to initiate attack on a single opponent; be it by one or multiple aggressors.

Kyle stood between other adepts of UESA Special Forces, practicing correct moves in devious slow motion. That particular exercise aimed for precision of dealing blows, and not speeds. That would come in time. Careful memorizing the correct sequence; how one move slides into another was more important for the first phase of training.

• Make no mistake however - continued instructor walking along from side to side of the balcony with his arms fixed on his back - You cannot predict your aggressor's movements. It's impossible, and anyone who tells you otherwise is a moron, not worth the air that is needed to utter his name... I see you disagree with that initiate.

Kyle suddenly felt his sight in himself, and wondered how he had noticed.

• If you have something to say, say it.

• You can spot an attack beforehand - he said, not interrupting his exercise - The adrenaline is widening nostrils so the body would receive larger amounts of oxygen, pupils grow wider, muscles tense up...

• Is that so... - said instructor standing at the edge - Enough.

All of the initiates had stopped their exercises, and standing in a square formation looked up on the balcony. Instructor rested his right hand on the balustrade, and suddenly jumped six meters down to their level, landing on bended right leg, while the left one was outstretched to the left side, and placing his left hand in front of him to keep the balance. Then he stood up, like he didn't just jumped from such considerable height, but as if he was lifting himself from a chair.

"I really should bite my own ass before letting my tongue get better of me..." - muttered Kyle to himself mentally, seeing how the rest of the initiates stepping aside in front of him.

• Well then, let's make a deal - said instructor walking slowly towards him - To demonstrate your theory we shall fight now. The fight will continue until you manage to successfully block, dodge or otherwise avoid being hit by me, or if you yield. Ready?

Kyle know all too well that he had no choice. All he could do was to play along, and not let his pose fell. He probably could back off now, but after doing that, they would all consider him... Well, let's just say it was better to endure it to the end. Maybe it would end with just a couple of small bruises here and there...

A quick, and powerful blow on his face interrupted his trail of thoughts; he could've sworn that it should break his nose. He countered it but he did it too slow, and his movement was used against him, which caused him landing on the floor. It wasn't like Kyle was a complete rookie to the hand-to-hand combat. I he would be, he wouldn't pass the selection. He knew self-defense and was actually quite good with Krav Maga, but this...

He managed to roll of the way of the foot, that was about to stomp him on the chest, but only barely, so it did smashed at his arm. He quickly tried to cut instructor down with his legs, but again he was too slow, and his left leg, that went higher than the right one, was immobilized in relentless grip. He saw as instructor's fingers digging deep on the both sides of his kneecap, as if he tried to pry it open, and Kyle hissed nastily at the pain.

Then instructor tossed it away, like a log or something, making Kyle roll on the floor, and then Kyle realized that he couldn't feel that leg anymore. It suddenly became numb.

• You can yield anytime. Just say "Argh!.."

Kyle managed to stand up, and stiffening his leg so he could at least put on it some of his weight. However still, the right one did all the heavy lifting. He gritted his teeth and took the opening pose for some martial art that he found in a book, as a ploy to distract his opponent from the actual goal. But the instructor knew exactly that Kyle's leg was out of commission so he attacked him in the way that forced him to take his weight off the right leg entirely onto left, and with a final blow at his chest, making fell back to the ground once more.

"Oh this is going just swell" - he muttered to himself, and suddenly he was propped up and pressed against the wall.

He made few attempts to counterattack, but they were all futile. He really couldn't believe how easily has been picked apart. All his training, all those painful lessons... All for nothing. And how? He should have dealt some damage...

He felt fingers digging behind his collarbones painfully, and was tossed aside like a ragdoll. Back on the ground he found out that not only he's unable to move, but he couldn't breathe as well. The fight was over. It was over before it even started.

Suddenly he remembered a quote from Sun Tsu's Art of war. It go something like that:

"Victorious warriors win first, and then go to war, while defeated warriors first go to war first, and then seeks to win". Up until now, he considered it "gibberish of an old coot", but now actually had see it in action. And now he was in his personal hell; unable to breathe in or out, unable to move... It was a really short venture indeed... He managed to grit his teeth, and slamed his eyes shut.

His lungs hurt from lack of oxygen and after an agonizingly long minute he passed out.

Kyle slowly opened his eyes and in an instant, he regretted doing so. He slammed them shut again with a groan, feeling billions and billions of needles piercing through his skull, and pretty much everywhere on his body. It was as if whole legions of centipedes suddenly decided to put on military shoes and goose-step all over his body.

• So you're alive - he heard, and the sound made his head pulse with pain. It was like hangover multiplied a hundred times over. - How are you feeling?

"Was that supposed to be joke?" - He thought to himself but responded:

• Like a million credits...

• State your name for me.

• Janice - said Kyle, with his face deadpan

• Close enough - responded the medic - You're in Medical, in case you hadn't noticed. Do you remember why?

• Gonorrhea?

• Funny - the medic replied without any trace of amusement - Anyway, I'm gonna file a complaint at this. Your instructor went completely over line this time...

• Shit happens - said Kyle slowly rubbing his forehead - This isn't some girl scout bonfire camp. This is a freakin' military. He's not here to pat me on the back and wipe my nose...

• Still, he's gone too far; doing that to an initiate...

• This is what I've signed on for. - said Kyle sitting up, and placing his feet on the stone floor - I wasn't drafted, or something. It was my choice, and I expected nothing less.

• Easy, easy. You shouldn't get up just yet.

• I shouldn't be laying down and growing fat. I won't become better soldier by that.

• Your instructor...

• He might be harsh, but thanks to that he will teach me how to stay alive out there.

• You think you're Rambo, or something?

• What's a rambo? - He asked managing to stand up and not waiting for an answer walked out of the room with little unsteady gait, leaving the medic behind, shaking his head at his stubbornness.

---

"Damn!" - thought Kyle crawling through a maintenance shaft - "I'm sitting duck in that narrow space!"

Nevertheless, that was the only way to get to his appointed objective, so he crawled with a fierce expression on his face, now covered by the front shield of his helmet. He just hoped that he won't lose his weapon in there. Suddenly a loose plate under him broke, sending him falling few levels down, and leaving him breathless as he slammed at the floor with his chest and stomach.

• Didn't hurt... - he managed to squeeze out lifting himself up, first onto all fours, then into a kneeling position.

Only then he managed to look around. The thing was, he didn't see anything; it was too dark, and this particular model of RIG wasn't equipped with sight enhancers... Then something had struck him on the head from above, making a loud "bonk" sound, and fell beside his leg.

A line-gun.

He muttered something under his breath, scrambling onto his feet, and lifting the weapon along the way. When his finger rested on the trigger, the tip of the line-gun flashed with cold-blue electric light. It did little however to thwart the darkness, but still, it was better than nothing.

He spied something of a catwalk heading up, but couldn't see anything beside that. Making his way through the only known passage, Kyle waved his weapon from side to side, aiming it down the sight, and thus trying to lit up the largest parts of the area in front of him, and make sure that some joker didn't put a deep gaping hole for him to fell into... Anything goes these days, it would seem. He heard something metallic fell from heights onto the floor somewhere in front of him, followed by a scurrying noises from the air duct to his left, but he chose to ignore them.

He had to somehow link up with the rest of the squad, and since he had no bloody idea where he was, it was his prime concern to figure it out, and not wondering at the universal grudge of all sentient beings, comprised of two simple words: "what if..?". This shit was scary enough even without his hyperactive imagination.

Suddenly the whole compartment was flooded with orange pulsing light. The alarm sounds went on and all the exits has been blocked.

"At least now I know I don't have epilepsy..."

• Hazardous biological anomaly detected in near proximity - sounded the computer voice - Sealing the area for quarantine.

Kyle took of like a bullet almost jumping through those few feet of catwalk that were still in front of him, onto the upper level, and picking up an adequate corner, overturned the heavy dumpster with his TK module, turning it into a makeshift barricade. He leaned against it, resting his elbows on top of it in an old fashioned firing position, pointing the line-gun down the passage and awaited his guests.

Something bothered him constantly; he couldn't shake the feeling that he forgot about something essential, but he didn't had time to ponder it further, because the covers of the ventilation shafts busted forth, letting in swarms of necromorphs. All black ones, with glowing orange eyes.

• Join UESA Special Forces, they said - he muttered aiming for the closest one - It's not just a job. It's an adventure...

Snarling "My ass" he pulled the trigger. The charge struck the necromorph just above the knees, but apart from making a various body fluids suddenly erupt, it did nothing to severe the limb. Snarling a curse Kyle repeated the shot, but with pretty much the same effect, only this time the necromorph actually started to run towards him.

Running!?

After what he just.!?

The necromorph jumped onto him roaring loudly and only thanks to his quick-thinking, Kyle

was able to keep his scythe-like blades from plunging into his chest. He used the line-gun to block and overbalance the creature, making it fall to the ground, and stomped on its head heavily, turning it into gooey mass. Then he placed the gun directly on the arm-joint and pulled the trigger. It had to slice off from this proximity.

He barely was able to grab severed limb of the floor with the TK module, when another necromorph charged him. Kyle nailed it to the wall, knocking down few others behind it. Tore another blade of the dead... Immobilized one, and launch it at another and another after that. Then, he realized what was bothering him throughout this whole time. Unfortunately he had found that out "the hard way".

The cover of the ventilation duct placed just above him, was busted open and Kyle quickly found himself nailed to the ground by a twisted, rotting, nevertheless still animated corpse. It took it but a split second to plunge it scythes into his guts, and take a wide swing at his head.

Everything went red. Pulsing, crimson red. Another alarm, and then...

• Okay, Garathy! - he heard instructor's voice on the speakers - You've got officially, and moronically K.I.A. Now be a good corpse and haul your ass behind a green line with the rest of the circus, to watch in awe how it's done by the real pros.

Kyle stood up slowly, feeling groggy all over. Electronically induced pain wasn't any less... Well, "painful" than the real one. Tossing the useless toy of a gun away disdainfully, he went behind the line, taking off the helmet, and almost throwing it on the bench out of frustration. However, he managed to restrain himself from doing so, and just sat on the bench, but with the force that made it creak ominously.

• You almost had that last one - said one of the initiates sitting next to him

• Can it - he snarled, fixing his arms on his chest and watching another simulation being prepped for action. Blood will be spilled if someone would dare to annoy him now...

This just wasn't his day.

---

The cave in which they took shelter after the crash was empty. Well, he was being way too optimistic thinking that they would stay in the same place for two weeks... Maybe they discovered the bridge, and went for it? Whatever was the case, they weren't there, and Kyle actually felt disappointed about that. He even got a mount for each of them, and the renting those had cost him quite a bit. He dismissed that feeling; it was just getting in the way; and after a careful scrutiny of the cavern he went to the crash-site. They took everything from here as well. Weapon parts, solid rations, everything. One thing that they left was the wreck itself; He could get a pretty penny for the hull plating. After all in the world where metallurgy meant smelting copper, tin and occasionally iron, a molecularly engineered, highly resistant to rust and all other bio-degradable bullshit, and incredibly light at the same time... Well, incredibly light compared to a standard titanium alloy with the same characteristics, should be considered priceless, right? He would take it to a blacksmith, make him do a sword out of it and then cut the anvil in half to show his point... Or he could take it to alchemists...

Nah... That would be a waste of effort...

He will think about it when the situation occurs. For now he just had to cut the hull into a considerable in size plates... Cut a highly resistant to extremely high and extremely low temperatures, molecularly engineered alloy while not having anything near a plasma torch...

He clapped loudly, rubbing his hands in preparation for all that hard work. Still rubbing them sized the wreck with his sight. And still rubbing them he turned around.

• Yea - he said mounting his lizard - Scuba diving it is...

SSAM picked up the shortest route for him, and placed on his HUD.

Pulling the reins Kyle led the lizard trotting back to the road, and later southwards as it went.

"_There's no time like the present" -_he thought stretching the muscles on his neck, and back, and without any further hesitations he jumped thirteen meters down into the sea; Small turbines of his suit took him quickly away from the dangerous waves and the rocky shore, and down in the depths. He didn't know how long exactly he was diving, but he couldn't see the daylight anymore. If it weren't for his HUD, he would probably lost.

"Warning!

One minute of oxygen remaining!"

"Great..!" - he thought reading the sign on the HUD - "it's too far to back now..."

He found what he was looking for, but not before his RIG warned him again about his oxygen reserves, giving him even a counter this time, counting down from thirty seconds. Only then he saw a round crosshair marking the place in the complete darkness where the bridge was laying. He reached the outer airlock when the counter fell onto ten seconds, opened it via a rotund lever, turning it sideways and pulling at it forcefully, and entered the ship.

Still in the finish he had to hold his breath. At first a bubble of air that was contained beyond the airlock has pushed him away of the entrance, and then, when he managed finally to enter the ship, airlock needed fifty seconds to close down and pressurize, which actually gave his lungs some mediocre torture.

The interiors of the wreck were equally, or even more dark than the outside sea depths. Furthermore the whole section was laid to the side by fifty or so degrees, and simple walking down the corridor was not a simple feat. Turbo-lift system was inoperative, as well as the trams. For a moment Kyle felt just like back in the booth-camp. Crawling in the dirt, and mud under the barbed wire, with live fire above him, then standing up, climb obstacles run through the tires and then crawl some more...

Memories...

The good thing was he had detailed projection on his HUD. Though standard night vision was virtually useless without even tiny bits of light, and he ordered to save the power to support more essential systems than lights, his suit was equipped with active sensor array, which produced low-energy microwaves, that bounced of the walls, and other objects, returning to the array, and thus creating a more or less 3D projection of Kyle's surroundings. Though monochromatic it provided the best orientation he could count on then and there. Good thing he knew every nook and cranny on his ship, because he couldn't read signs.

Grabbing a panel by the doors to his quarters with a TK-module, he tore it off the wall, exposing the wires, and most importantly, emergency lock. He reached for it, and just like the outer airlock he twisted it right and pullet to himself. A loud hiss of escaping air from the opening mechanism, told him that it was okay to try opening the doors now. And so he did, with a little help... Well a large help of the kinetic enhancers.

Inside his quarters everything was messed up. Like duh, right? But thankfully most of the important furnitures were integral parts of the walls, so at last they were in place. He almost run to the cabinet by the bed, opened it and reached for the pack of smokes still not unpacked. He ripped the polyethylene bag and pulled a cigarette out. The helmet barely managed to uncover his face, when he placed a smoke in his mouth, keeping him between lightly clenched teeth and reached blindly inside the cabinet in the search for lighter. In vain...

• Oh, come on... Don't do this to me - he whined - Not now..! AHA!

Pulling out a small piezoelectric lighter from the cabinet, he lighted up the cigarette and inhaled deeply.

• Oh, man... This is so much better than sex - he puffed a cloud of smoke while resting his back by the wall. - I am SO politically incorrect, right now...

The red tip of his cigarette burned brightly as he inhaled the smoke, however did little against the darkness. Actually it did nothing besides betraying his own position, but he didn't care. Even if he'd die there in that moment, at least he would die happy. Surprisingly, nothing had happened. He searched his quarters for other useful items, but couldn't find anything that would be useful and not destroyed at the same time.

It was time to head for the bridge. Kyle exited his quarters and headed to the left, carefully. He didn't want to be entangled by a bundle of wires and suddenly find out, that they're live. As he walked his enthusiasm started diminishing. There was one thing he forgot, up until now: that damn blast-doors. If they were still closed he could turn around and go back.

Another surprise - they weren't closed. He doubted that they have opened during the crash, after all they were hydraulically powered, and really rather heavy. So they must've been opened while... And where are the bodies? There should be tons of them around, and yet he encountered none. He used his suit's com-link to search the area on wide frequency spectrum, but he found nothing. That was a good thing, though. No carrier wave - no necromorphs... However it did little to explain what have happened to them all. They couldn't just disappear... Unless they have used lifeboats... But that would mean, they must've know about the catastrophe, before it actually happened...

He decided to leave those divagations for another day. There were more pressing concerns at hand for now.

• I'm not home for few minutes and look what happens - he grunted climbing into the commander's nest.

He managed to sit in his chair, despite the fact that declivity of the whole ship section made it very uncomfortable, if not actually painful; it felt better after strapping in.

Kyle activated his console and begun searching the database. Of course long range transceiver was busted even before the explosion, and even if it weren't, it was placed in the star-drive section of the ship. The very section, which was nonexistent at the moment. Nevertheless, the distress beacon should still be active. If only he could launch it... That made him pause for minute. Did he really want to launch it? Signal High Command, get rescued, and all?

After all, he lost his starship. The only thing he could count on now was going back to academy, and train recruits... Or go to retirement. And if you would combine that with the fact, that he stomped on the foot of pretty much everyone in High Command by now, his future really looked bleak. On the other hand if he would stay here...

After a short moment of hesitation, he typed something on the holographic keyboard. There was loud bang somewhere followed by a hiss of the rocket engine, and hollow gurgling noises, of air bubbles. Kyle might not want to be rescued, but he wasn't alone here. Others most certainly had other opinion on this. And they deserved to be so. The beacon should resurface, then enter orbit, and using the planet's gravity well like a catapult, launch itself into outer space. Too bad he didn't know the direction, but it would reach colonized space eventually. Or deep space explorators could wander on it. Lastly, he programmed a constant short pulse transmission, turning the entire section into one nav-beacon. It's signal couldn't reach far, but if someone would arrive in the system should be able to receive it, and come here. That was all he could do.

He was about to shutdown the mainframe, when something came to his mind. He brought up the CnC* interface and checked the log of recent commands. He wasn't sure why he did it, it was just another gut-feeling. Reading through it he become more and more puzzled by what he learned from it. The destruction of the Dragonclaw was not an accident, not by a long shot. He found evidence, that the mainframe warned Wyndham several times about the consequences of engaging damaged FTL drive, and complied with those orders only after he override it's security protocols.

Searching further, Kyle found out that seven of their escape-pods has been launched, which meant that more of the crew had survived, and should be on the planet surface.

• He scuttled the ship - said Kyle aloud refusing to believe his own words. - That damn bastard scuttled the ship...

He banged at the console with his fingers deep in thought. There was a plot in there, but he couldn't see what kind of plot. At least for now.

He closed the log and entered tactical overlay. Checking the hangar records he localized a Barracuda already prepped for launch; Twin gauss cannons, and six fuel-air bombs on board. He made sure everything about it was okay, and then shutdown the mainframe. The energy consumed by it could be used to power the signal transmitter for a decade.

After he exited the bridge, he headed for the closest armory, to pick up two hefty suitcases of ammunition and spare parts for upgrading his rifle. Something was telling him - another gut-feeling - that he will have need of those soon. He put those behind the pilot's seat, and then came back for more ammo for rifle and boxes of 12 gauge grenades. Also several boxes of 88'gauge rounds for Barracuda's gauss cannons.

All packed up, he sat in the pilot seat, sealing the cabin manually and prepped the interceptor for launch. After few moments he was ready. Closing the inner gates of the hangar remotely, he activated the anti-grav harnesses, and activating the weaponry he blew out the outer doors. Sea water barged in forcefully and if it weren't for the gravity tethers, the Barracuda would probably be tossed around the hangar like a toy plane.

Kyle waited patiently for the current to die down and releasing the tethers let the overflow of water carry him out of the hangar. Outside in the open sea, deployed a few air-bags placed under the wings and waited for the Barracuda to resurface. He couldn't use the turbo-jets under water, and the doppler... Using a quark-burner in the atmosphere was bad enough, but under water it would cause a catastrophe of gargantuan proportions; transforming a H2O water into T2O water, where plain ol' hydrogen is turned into its super-heavy isotope - tritium.

It would be a really nasty chain reaction...

Really nasty.

Seeing the daylight streaming through the water and windshield of the cockpit he begun to wonder about reaction that Barracuda's appearance would cause. After all it was rather advanced technology, compared to anything they apparently come up with. What puzzled him was though all of the draconians did possessed the wings, neither of them actually used them for flying. Were they incapable of it, or just considered it a waste of effort? Regardless, landing a flying machine in the middle of the city without a word of warning could cause quite a stir. No matter. He will have to tell the whole truth eventually, so why not now?

He resurfaced with a loud splash. Water slowly drained from the windshield as Kyle begun the main engines startup sequence. The anti-grav unit kicked in instantly, raising the craft above the sea level, just moment after the turbo-jets have launched, and the craft shot forward, leaving behind a wide ripple on the water surface, created by the air distortion forming around the hull. For a moment Kyle let his enthusiasm overtake him, and he leaned the craft to the right, letting the tip of one of the reversed delta wings submerge into the sea, cutting through the surface like a knife, before bringing it ninety degrees upwards, while rolling it in a screw-like motion.

It was so good to be back in the pilot's seat...

In the end he didn't land in the city. Coming to a conclusion that attracting unnecessarily attention was not such a good idea after all, he managed to find an appropriate cave with open top and landed there. All the Barracudas were VTOL** crafts so it was no problem. He actually was quite surprised at this. He needed a secluded place to hide his craft, and there it was. Almost as if...

Nah, never mind. It was about time that lady luck started to smile upon him yet again. And, as it turned out, not a moment too soon.

Kyle entered his apartment, calling Rak'Shi aloud, and placing two heavy suitcases of useful items under the table. She answered from behind the bathroom doors, that she needed a minute longer, so he made himself comfy on the sofa. He felt rather tired. He didn't realize just how heavy those suitcases were up until now. Then again, were they really that heavy, or he just grew soft from all those years in the command chair..?

Whatever was the reason, he intended to rest up through the rest of the day; which wasn't actually that long. However a loud knocking at the door altered those plans.

• You could think that being a nobody would give you a decent time for yourself... - he murmured under his breath walking to the door and opening it.

It was Var'Lsh with two other knights. Kyle blinked once, before resting his arm at the door frame and asked.

• Taking or leaving?

• What? - Var'Lsh shook his head baffled.

• Taking somebody with you, or leaving somebody in here?

• Taking. - he answered - Definitely taking.

Kyle took a moment to drag his gaze meaningfully from one to another knights standing behind Var'Lsh, and then reached for the door.

• Nobody's home - Kyle said intent on closing the doors, but a quick paw held them in place.

• May we talk? - asked Var'Lsh looking at Kyle indifferently - I must insist.

• Since you put it that way... - Kyle stepped back letting him in. - But not all of you. It's a very small apartment.

• You know, you could be nicer... - said Var'Lsh when the doors closed behind him

• I could - said Kyle matter-of-factly - But I chose not to. That's another feature that distinguish me from paladin, by the way... Being grumpy. Anyway, what this is all about?

• You know, I wouldn't say you're grumpy - said Rak'Shi coming out of the bathroom.

• And what would you say? - asked Kyle leading her with his gaze until she sat down at the table.

• A pain in the ass.

• Hey! - Kyle pointed at her with his finger - It was you, who wanted to try anal, remember? I was skeptic about it from...

• I came here - said Var'Lsh butting in firmly, and forestalling an awkward conversation from unfolding any further - on behalf of our lord Mth'Ran of Drakensang, to invite you to a feast, made in your name...

• Oh, great. Here it comes - muttered Kyle not entirely to himself

• Be nice - Rak'Shi admonished him - When it will be held?

• That invitation is not extended onto you, I'm afraid. - said Var'Lsh - such persona on the royal court... That's unspeakable!

• You mean females not allowed? - asked Kyle meaningfully - A guy night of sorts? Maybe we should get a stripper..?

Seeing Var'Lsh right there with his dumbfound expression was priceless for Kyle. The way he opened and closed his maw trying to speak, but not being able to make a word. Just like a horned, clawed, winged fish out of water... However he started to feel bad afterwards. After all that knight had come to him, as gallant as could be, invited him with all the honors and all. It was not his fault that Kyle's twisted sense of humor made him ruin it all. Thankfully Rak'Shi came to his aid.

• You should stop it, Kyle - she said - An invitation like that isn't something that one could treat lightly.

• You know very well that being in the spotlight makes my skin crawl.- Kyle said

• This coming from the commander of a planet-cracker starship? And a prince above all?

• Planet-buster - he corrected putting the accent at the second half of the statement.

• Whatever.

• No, it's not. - he stated firmly - Planet-crackers are mining vessels. Planet-busters are warships.

• You're a prince? - Var'Lsh blinked at that new revelation

• Yea, well... Let's not make a subject out of it - muttered Kyle scratching his chin and rolling his eyes out. - It's all past tense now...

• Look, Kyle, you should go. You're the guest of honor there - she pointed out - If you won't go, then what is the purpose? Besides, it's a chance for you to get a social promotion.

• I enjoy my present social position, thank you very much.

• But maybe I don't...

• You're not invited, remember?

• I'm your mate. - she said tracing a pattern on the table with her talon - It's inevitable that some of that bliss will shine on me as well.

Kyle breathed deeply hanging his head low. He was about to say something, but Rak'Shi cut him off, like a final nail to his coffin.

• Either you go there, or say hello to your hand for the night. Take your pick.

Kyle looked at Var'Lsh, who had strong enough self-preservation instinct to be looking other way by then.

• I can go with night abstinence - he tried to probe his ground

• Who said it would be one night?

• Why are you so desperate, all of a sudden, to get me out of the house? Some gigolo waiting by the door?

• Look, you're whining about it, as if it was something bad. Go; have fun; cheer up, and all. You deserve it... Or face the consequences.

• That's not fair, you know - Kyle whined

• Nothing ever is - Rak'Shi smiled toothily to him.

He could have swear that he heard a faint sound of multiple swords being dragged out of their sheets while she did.

*CnC - Command and Control

***VTOL - Vertical Take-Off and Landing