C.DEX
Art Fart
"This is where we make the plans to kick bad guy butt." Dayle said. She lead the girls along to her own pilot seat, where she bent down to get to Ayla's level. "Hold on!" she said, and wrapped an arm around the girl's back. Soon enough, she'd lifted her into the seat. It was a comical sight; the seat was far larger than what was meant for a child, and the girl's feet had no chance of touching the ground.
The pilot reached over to the manual controls, poking and prodding at the buttons until the viewport - which had normally only displayed current statistics, cameras, and other information that lead the ship to accomplishing its missions - was displaying a characterized version of an alien with three eyes and a robotic dog doing whatever cartoons do. When she had seen that the little girl was pleased, she offered a smile. "Now, don't forget to put your seatbelt on." she noted, pointing to the top of the chair and the buckle at the bottom of it. Of course, there was way such a mechanism would fit such a small child, but the little things mattered.
Just as Dayle had finished buckling the little one in, a rumbling had occurred outside of the Gaius. The pilot stood up and looked through the cartoon displaying on the viewport. "Shit." she murmured, as if suddenly unbeknownst to the child in her presence. She looked to Lucy, giving her a small plea with her eyes. "Look after Ayla for a bit." she said, "I don't want her down there when we have to deal with the Chancellor."
Suddenly, she absconded from the room and found herself downstairs with Vitor, leaving both Ayla and Lucy in the dust. She and Vitor would be the theoretical welcoming group to the large transport van, with Axel following close in the wings.
Outside of the Gaius, a decently large vehicle designed to take extreme offense without giving waited. It was emblazened with an emblem closely resembling the RCN's own, with a slight difference that indicated the division the vehicle had been from. Information and Acquisition. Given Chancellor Ifrit'a'Div wasn't there, that only meant one thing. Nephilim.
The doors slid open, giving way to a small swathe of guards. It was no surprise to anyone that the Vice-Chancellor would bring more guards with him at that point; after all, whispers of treason from within the RCN-1 had wreaked the massive station. Not only that, but the instability of the Gaius crew was up in the air. That hadn't meant that the Chancellor might take it easy on them, of course.
The Chancellor disembarked from the vehicle's ramp, hands tucked into the flowing navy blue garb that adorned him. His skin was a deep red, an interesting contrast to his robes. Stark black hair flowed down from his scalp. In a way, he almost looked thinly frail. Still, what anyone could see of his flesh bore no signs of combat or scarring. His hands, laced together, were soft and unused. Still, Nephilim walked with a certain conviction - shoulders and chin high - that would set anyone with sensibilities on edge. He looped around the corner, bearing large inhuman guards at his sides, while several others remained at the base of the loading ramp. They had effectively blocked off any means of exit the Gaius crew had, forcing what was going to be an inevitably bad encounter.
Nephilim honed in on them like a panther to his prey; silent and calculating. When he'd found that the only two that graced his presence immediately were Dayle and Vitor, his eyes shot up to the stairs that lead up to the cockpit. There was an acute awareness to him, and a tension in the air that seemed to play a small smile to his lips. A smile that had sent a shiver up the both of their spines, and caused the pilot to speak out and break the thickness of the air.
"Vice-Chancellor." Dayle said. While it was also proper notation to leave off the prefix, there was a certain rebellion and disrespect that came with the small amount of words that left her mouth.
"Pilot." He replied, then looked to Vitor. "Frede." he said, in greeting, with a small nod of his head. The smaller amount of respect that he'd given Vitor as opposed to the still wild-looking Dayle. It sent a slight tinge to her face.
"Assemble your team. I don't like to repeat myself."
The pilot reached over to the manual controls, poking and prodding at the buttons until the viewport - which had normally only displayed current statistics, cameras, and other information that lead the ship to accomplishing its missions - was displaying a characterized version of an alien with three eyes and a robotic dog doing whatever cartoons do. When she had seen that the little girl was pleased, she offered a smile. "Now, don't forget to put your seatbelt on." she noted, pointing to the top of the chair and the buckle at the bottom of it. Of course, there was way such a mechanism would fit such a small child, but the little things mattered.
Just as Dayle had finished buckling the little one in, a rumbling had occurred outside of the Gaius. The pilot stood up and looked through the cartoon displaying on the viewport. "Shit." she murmured, as if suddenly unbeknownst to the child in her presence. She looked to Lucy, giving her a small plea with her eyes. "Look after Ayla for a bit." she said, "I don't want her down there when we have to deal with the Chancellor."
Suddenly, she absconded from the room and found herself downstairs with Vitor, leaving both Ayla and Lucy in the dust. She and Vitor would be the theoretical welcoming group to the large transport van, with Axel following close in the wings.
Outside of the Gaius, a decently large vehicle designed to take extreme offense without giving waited. It was emblazened with an emblem closely resembling the RCN's own, with a slight difference that indicated the division the vehicle had been from. Information and Acquisition. Given Chancellor Ifrit'a'Div wasn't there, that only meant one thing. Nephilim.
The doors slid open, giving way to a small swathe of guards. It was no surprise to anyone that the Vice-Chancellor would bring more guards with him at that point; after all, whispers of treason from within the RCN-1 had wreaked the massive station. Not only that, but the instability of the Gaius crew was up in the air. That hadn't meant that the Chancellor might take it easy on them, of course.
The Chancellor disembarked from the vehicle's ramp, hands tucked into the flowing navy blue garb that adorned him. His skin was a deep red, an interesting contrast to his robes. Stark black hair flowed down from his scalp. In a way, he almost looked thinly frail. Still, what anyone could see of his flesh bore no signs of combat or scarring. His hands, laced together, were soft and unused. Still, Nephilim walked with a certain conviction - shoulders and chin high - that would set anyone with sensibilities on edge. He looped around the corner, bearing large inhuman guards at his sides, while several others remained at the base of the loading ramp. They had effectively blocked off any means of exit the Gaius crew had, forcing what was going to be an inevitably bad encounter.
Nephilim honed in on them like a panther to his prey; silent and calculating. When he'd found that the only two that graced his presence immediately were Dayle and Vitor, his eyes shot up to the stairs that lead up to the cockpit. There was an acute awareness to him, and a tension in the air that seemed to play a small smile to his lips. A smile that had sent a shiver up the both of their spines, and caused the pilot to speak out and break the thickness of the air.
"Vice-Chancellor." Dayle said. While it was also proper notation to leave off the prefix, there was a certain rebellion and disrespect that came with the small amount of words that left her mouth.
"Pilot." He replied, then looked to Vitor. "Frede." he said, in greeting, with a small nod of his head. The smaller amount of respect that he'd given Vitor as opposed to the still wild-looking Dayle. It sent a slight tinge to her face.
"Assemble your team. I don't like to repeat myself."