"We need to go faster! Anybody got any idea?" Chael exclaimed, they are about to crash soon and it is best to maintain more speed. He moved his eye around to find something to grab on, anything. He found a pipe line on the celling, they could use it as a walking stick in zero gravity. Problem is, it is way up and in their current possition it is hard to get up.

I could use the explosion from my bomb, but that would injure the civiliant..

"Hey! There is a pipe line up there! Can you get us up?" Chael stared Ragnir and Aralon back to back. "We can use it as a gri-" Before he can finish the sentence a loud mechanical noice can be heard on the back. He saw machines with one eye– a swarm of them– moving in air with their tiny 6 legs. "What the heck is that?" Chael drawed his firecracker out. The machines then stopped at the wall, and moved while still intact to it. Their leg seems to work as a suction, keeping them grounded.

"Whatever is that, i don't think we should keep it alive!" He throwed the bomb out. It moved along the air slowly before giving a thud at the robot. The machine suddenly opened his mouth wide, and fired a green energy round at it. The bomb exploded because of the impact. It sends heatwave at the isoran, but not at the point of causing them to burn.

After the smoke cleared out, most of them is broken, but more are coming from the front. "They are hostiles!"

For a brief moment, hesitation crossed over Den's face.

"Serah, we're going to get to land safe too, right?" he inquired. "I don't think he's having a fun time with that leg, though."

(EDIT: Woah, I must have been completely brain dead, why was I in present tense o.O)

Finnaly geting to the pod area, Serah and Den immediately put him into a pod and strapped him in; not exactly with his permission, but you dont complain about making it to safety, not after you just got your leg punctured by a metal bar.
For some reason, Serah took his head lightly by the shin with two fingers and locked gazes with him.
"You are a Valkyrie, Mundy Vakarian. Remember that. No matter what happens, be the light that shines in the deepest depths of darkness when all other lights go out. Now get out there and be the brave knight I know you are."

Mundy tought of asking if those were intentionaly last words but hesitated, thinking it would be too absurd for the short time they spent as squad. Then doubt took over his mind:
Was this pod she shoved him in the last one?
It was too late to ask, as the pod itself had closed already, but a small hatch-like window gave clear sight to her face.

As Serah started engaging the airlocks, wich would automaticaly block that small window, she could see Mundy saluting to her, and hear his muffled, now fading words, with insecurity as if they were for her and Den, or for a much larger group.
"Good luck to all of us."
And so, the hatch shut. It was now up to a flip of a switch in Mundy's side.

The next moments seemed to take on forever, but Vakarian knew they were merely seconds. No staring at the details of the pod's inner contents, no moaning about his wounded leg. He was just waiting for something.
Maybe for an assurance that They'd land close to him, in case the rest of Team Mess were to make it. Maybe he was just being a coward, dishonoring all of Serah's words by waiting for others to dive earlier so he could be the recovered, not the recoverer.
Both of these requests for stimulation would be answered by the muffled sound of objects being launched into the ether, heard trough the plating of the ship.

And as he heard it, the sound of five, no, seven, no, ten......twelve pods being lofted off, he hoped to all the honored Valkyrie rangers to have ever been honored that it was the sound of his squad, finnaly pressing the "Deploy" switch and diving in.

Diving away from certain death, and into the unknown.

Filia was panting like a dog in heat, beads of sweat running down her forehead. She was glad she only wore a light gunner's cloak- had she donned heavier, standard Cobalt gear, she'd have passed out long ago. As she ran, she could faintly hear Skyla's response, "Fairly okay- just a few minor* setbacks... Nothing to worry about on my end." along with the dying screams of hostile aliens. Around Filia, alarms blared and lights flashed on and off, while a mechanical voice said repeatedly, "Execute protocol 49. All Knights, head to the nearest escape pod docks."

Pain seared through Filia's body, her muscles ablaze with the effort of maintaining full speed. On her HUD, she pulled up a map of the Skylark and saw that the nearest escape pods were only a hundred feet away. She screamed, "Right!" and darted through a large doorway, into Pod Hangar 37. Several Gremlins were gathered around the vessels, attempting to enter, only to be taken down by Warhawk. "Go, go, go!" The girl screamed, slinging her rifle across her back and making a mad dash for the pods. As she reached one, she kicked aside a Gremlin's mutilated corpse and quickly entered the pod. Glancing at Titan, Tor, and Cherub, all in their own vessels, she said, "I'll see you all planet side, if we're lucky!" Another glance made her realize- there was still a pod left in the hangar. Filia hoped Skyla would make it out alright, but if she couldn't, she had access to Filia's HUD. Worst case scenario, even if Skyla's body was destroyed, she would still be technically alive. And with the mechanical prowess of the Skylark's mechanics, she'd have a new body in no time.

Shaking these thoughts aside, Filia directed a final salute to her comrades. She sealed the pod's hatch and rapidly pressed several buttons, targeting a landing spot on the planet. With that, the pod launched, and Filia made her way into the vast unknown.

OOC : Massive powerplay upcoming, but eh, I doubt Thin would be angry since the effort would be pretty vain...

As Serah screamed, she could feel something sharp embed into her side as she was tugged away from the frictitious airstream and into a corridor. For a brief moment, she felt a heavy darkness wrap over her, crushing her already-maimed frame.

If this was death, death was surely uncomfortable.

But the Tigress could still pant, she could still croak. There was still that pain in her side, as if she had been stabbed.

A flash of pinkish-red went across her vision as she felt something cool touch her wound. A nice change of things, given she could feel her skin crackle from the heat.

A pressure could be felt around her waist as she was bound to something, and once again, she felt fire.

Not directly, but the smell of smoke, the occasional tongue that licks her arm or leg hinted she was being exposed partially to the atmosphere. This feeling came and left again as did her consciousness.

The last thing she might've felt on the Skylark directly was a buckle coming over her chest, and pressing against her weakened lungs.

The last thing she might've seen as the shroud of darkness resurged from her peripherals was Aralon in a grey utility suit and a welding mask, both decorated with purple spirals, that is, if she could even see them - one entire side of Aralon was charred black.

As Aralon punched the pod, she saluted. And shrank in Serah's vision.

"Sir, don't go to sleep on me now," was the last thing she might've heard, though the voice was a clear as though she were in the very same pod with her...

It was then that Den abruptly became aware of the searing heat that lashed at him. It was sweltering, painfully hot and terrifying. The ship rocked tremulously.

Den ran, the image burned into his mind like the world around him. He was silent with fear.

In some fortuitous happenstance, he found his way in a pod, the cooler metal barely safe from the encroaching terror. Hands fumbled, flailing, until the door was sealed - but the heat was still coming.

It was a dream, like when he first came out of cyrosleep, as everything seemed to happened without his input.

He found that he couldn't move, straps restrained him, when did that happen? There was a jerk, acceleration, and he passed out.

"Everyone find a pod! An' make it snappy!"

Ragnir shouted, directed the civilians near him to whatever pods happened to have room, all while keeping an eye open for a vessel outside the air lock...

There! Ragnir spotted a few of the private autoships outside the window, still tailing the Skylark; most to all of them had landing gear readied. Now what was the license number on Rega's pod? "5-5-4-3-9-2. 5-5-4-3-9-2... Is that- nope, that's 5-5-7-WHAT are you doing closing that pod, skinny?!" Ragnir shouted at one civilian. "You can share that with him! Hurry it up, hurry it up, hurry it up!"

The pod, now carrying two Isorans down, flew out... but the airlock didn't shut all the way. Ragnir made his way closer, holding in his breath as he looked for some way to force the door shut...

...only for it to fly open on him, launching him out into space!

Ragnir kept holding his breath, but the heat from the Skylark was starting to hurt. And soon he'd have to open his mouth and breathe...

Click.

Ragnir felt something grab the back of his right boot, then pull him in. Upon closer inspection, it was a private-owned ship.

And the license number was 554932.

Wheeeeew...

Ragnir was thrown into the outer airlock by the grapnel just in time for his suit to catch fire from the heat- and promptly get put out by a well-timed sprinkler from the ship's other passenger.

"Thanks, sis."

"Anytime. So what took you?"

Ragnir stumbled down through the inner airlock, walked straight to the restroom, and shut the door. A half minute later, he walked out. "About three fried fish fillets that I just lost."

"Ewww."

"...There are still more people aboard." Ragnir looked out the private vessel's window. The vessel was about the size of a typical freight truck, but most of that was reserved for the cryopod. Another small bit had a restroom, which was connected to the disposal chute, and a mini-fridge; these were for the passenger's recovery after exiting cryosleep. There was also a cockpit for the purpose of manual control; though the ship didn't have the power to clear the gravity of most planets, precise control during reentry could save lives.

"Maybe I could stop by the-"

Parts of the ship he'd just been on began tearing off. Both Isorans could only watch in horror for a few moments...

"WARNING. ENTERING ATMOSPHERE."

"I'll get it!"

"Oh no you will NOT get it!" Rega beat Ragnir to the cockpit. "You look exhausted! And your arms look burnt!"

"It's only a flesh wound!"

"Yeah, right." Rega engaged reentry mode, managing to evade the sight of whatever had shot the Skylark. "I'll find a place to land..."

They just keep coming and coming!
The ship is going down in flames, and yet they still doggedly toss themselves after me, one after the other, As if they can AFFORD to die!

I'm sure even aliens fear death; So why aren't they retreating to fight us when we're weakest, on the planet?
...Am I that much of a threat. . .?
TFIszzst-
Shit, Even I'm feeling the heat. . . I'd better get going before I burn with the ship...!
I quickly snatch a bomb from the floor and start running to the pods- Getting behind the cover of one of the walls, I toss the bomb behind me like one would use a grenade (A shame that the spiral order doesn't normally manufacture grenades) and deactivated my sound sensors.
Bullets whizzed past as I rushed- The pods weren't that far!
Hurriedly, I sealed the pod door as I slammed the emergency launch- Gremlins flew out of the chute with the pod, Spinning and struggling in space to breath air. . . (Rule #1 of space; Keep your oxygen tanks on)

Poor bastards.
Calming myself down, I put my Falchion down so I could assess the damage I had taken.
As far as the wolver coat was concerned, it was in suprisingly good condition, with a few scratches and holes; Considering that I was up against about 4 Gremlins in the Air Vents, and around 20-30 while evacuating the rest of the knights.
There was a large hole on my right shoulder- The sleeve was barely hanging on, and the suit was ripped open, showing the inner workings of my arm. I'd have to cover that up with something soon, to prevent rust, leaks, and jams.
Some of my hair was singed from bullets I narrowly avoided, but otherwise, My head was perfectly fine.
And...
Oh!
Shit. . . Low energy.
Wait, I can just use the pod to power myself; I don't need to breath!
*Zzzrt*

As the planet's gravity took effect, as well as inertia, Aralon was pushed into the wall of the pod, adjacent to Serah. Wait...these things weren't built with parachutes, were they? And Serah's got the only seat...

She couldn't afford squeezing herself in; upon impact, the burned soldier would be crushed, if not Aralon herself.

So she decided to do something very desperate. She propped the bottom end of her Heavy Hatchet into the corner between the seat and the wall, and punched a crevice on the part opposite to the corner. She then unfolded the rest of her hatchet and squeezed it so it was firmly lodged in. Then, she slipped her left hand, and then her arm through the handle, using her elbow to pinch and squeeze onto the handle.

In theory, the shock would go through the blade, and instead of her being violently smacked into the wall upon impact, only her arm would be terribly mutilated, or even amputated.

But if the VIP was going to survive...she needed to, too.

Chael felt a searing pain in his back as the pod landed, grunting and squirming from the impact. He took a moment to relax himself, altought the heat playing around with his skin isn't helping at all. He untied himself from his chair, and scoring the world longest untying in the procces. The man pressed the 'open' button on the pot, the pain suddenly changed with an overwhelming desire to seek a new world... Or a pile of dirt. If it weren't for his steel helmet he would have swallowed 10 grams of earth as the door opened.

"Look's like mother nature hates me!" He dug up to the surface. Chael was immediately welcomed by a breeze of soothing wind. His nostrils picing up the sweet smell of grases. With his two hands he pushed himself out, and let his back touches againts the green smooth meadow. "Or maybe not.." He smiled. No knights would be able to resist taking a nap in the nature after almost having their butt burned off by explosions. That tranquility would not hold for long however. The bomber could hear machines humming from the distances.

Dang! I almsot forgot we are on an alien ground! Better check for the others!

He pressed the button on his comlink. " This is Chael speaking, Anybody still alive and kicking? I was lucky enough to land in some sort of meadow, thought things seems to be turning for the worst slowl-. "

A energy bulled flew right through his helmet, almost scratching it, and explode in his face. Chael picked up a firecracker and charged it. "Give me a break will you?" He stood up and ran to the nearest cover, the bullets did not stop coming as he ran. He received a blow in his ankle, and felt an explosion of pain right away. He limped to a huge square rock. The bomber quickly tossed the charged feiry bomb to the dierection of the bullets' source. He heard a bark followed by a mechanical explosion.

What the heck... Puppies? With [redacted] guns?

The pod erupted into flames as I pummeled down past the atmosphere, bits of rubble and dead gremlins blazing off-
Shaking, shaking, shaking. . .
I closed my eyes as tightly as they would allow. Could this be. . . Fear?
Rumbling.
I opened my eyes, to see just what I had seen with my eyes closed.
Darkness.
The pod was still rumbling, so I could assume that the pod was still, somehow, going down.
Rumble. . .
Tumble. . .
Tumble. . .
Ding?
The pod had stopped moving.
I looked around the tightly fit, dented pod for anything useful.
There was a small bag with instructions on how to make the well known proto gear- I'd have to do that at a later time, when I'm safe.
Thankfully, the rest of the gear was pre-made. I grabbed the shield, as I had neglected to get one when I was in the armory.
Since the shield was small enough, I could strap it to my right arm without worrying about being unable to use my hand.
I holstered the proto gun on my right side, Behind the sheath for my Falchion.
Like I had seen many people do, I grabbed the bag containing the Proto Gear materials, and buckled the strap in front of my waist.
I was all set, almost.
And into the back-pouch went the proto bomb.
The Comlink was buzzing with activity; Frightened, Excited, Apprehensive knights. . .
A clear message: The Order had Spiraled out of control. I couldn't help but chuckle, at my own dark humor.

Finally, after sorting myself out, I grabbed the handle to the pod, and, as per tradition, broke it so I could keep it as a momento.
*Thunk*
However, my head had hit something metal.
The something metal was a horizontal beam.
The horizontal beam, turned out to be. . . Part of the frame for an elevator.
As I crawled out from the awkward twists and turns created by the elevator, rubble, and pod, I saw it.
The magnificent glow of, As I would soon find out, The Clockworks.

Aralon, after finding herself face-flat against the doorway of the pod, grunted as she tried to push herself up, when she noticed an EJECT button besides the door.

For ejecting the door, of course.

*THUNK!*

The door flew out, and immediately, Aralon's lungs choked as they tried to adjust to the new air. She found it better to shut her mouth and stop breathing, not until she could find a rebreather or a tank. Still, she found it quite hard to move...like something was holding her back.

She took a glance at Serah, before a radio transmission broadcasted :

"This is Mundy. Vanguard Serah, do you read?"

Mundy's alive?

"This is Mundy. Vanguard Serah, do you read?"

Aralon strained to turn clockwise, but something heavy was still blocking her. She tried turning counter-clockwise, and immediately, she felt something give way. Once again, her body tipped over and fell near the doorway.

"This is Mundy. Vanguard Serah, do you read?"

"Will you shut up..." wheezed Aralon as she slapped the side of her head. The hollow ring that followed signified that, yes she did still have her helmet on.

Comm system should still work. Aralon grabbed the dial at the side of her helmet, and twisted it. By habit, she was just about to crank it to the rescue effort frequency, but...

...well, the Disaster Relief Corp. wasn't supposed to exist anymore.

She slowly cranked it back until Mundy's broadcast was crystal-clear, one that echoed with Serah's. how would she break the news to her team? Serah wasn't exactly ready to battle, but she wasn't as good as dead...

Aralon choked a bit before replying croakily :

"...this is Aralon. Vanguard Serah...is in critical condition. She suffered severe burns on the way down, and possibly...well, I don't know if her armor is functional any more, so she might have also suffered from physical damage. I'll try to get her to some place safe for further assessment. Over."

What she didn't say was the fact that she couldn't feel her lower arm. She was trying to ignore it for a while now, but most of the feeling there was gone. Only numbness remained. That would have to get fixed.

Slowly, Aralon stood and reached for the handle of her heavy hatchet. With a squeeze, the blade folded itself in, and shrunk.

Next, came Serah herself.

The red emergency light darkened most of her features, but Aralon knew her skin was still quite fragile, and perhaps moreso her raiment. Raiments weren't so good against fire. And for all she knew, the cloth might've melted into her skin.

Still, Aralon reassured herself, Isorans were made out of tough stuff. Sure, no plebeian would ever look at her with lusty eyes ever again, but when everything boiled down to the facts, it was that Serah was a Vanguard. Vanguards were the cream of the crop, the twice-cooked, overseasoned cuts.

There had to be a chance of survival, at the very least.

Aralon pushed the button that clasped the belts over Serah, and so the Valkyrie fell on top of her. Careful so as to not crush the wings, Aralon hoisted the Vanguard over her shoulder, and ducked as she ventured outside. She didn't bother to see cover her eyes; her helmet was already adjusting the clarity of her vision, even if it was mostly inactive.

After recieving the reply from Aralon, Mundy hesitated to even open his mouth.
Critical condition? Right after an escape pod touchdown? That must mean the pod malfunctioned, and if that happened....
He was not sure of what to say. Serah and her invitation to the team were the first genuine sings of credit towards him ever since he was in the Order, and he had sworn to her that he'd keep her back covered. And then she gets toasted hours later?

"She's injured? .....pass me your coordinates, I could be close enough to help you with her."
Mundy stopped talking but seemed to forget to end the call for a second.
"...Over."

A persistent and repetitive scratching sound woke Den up. He felt the straps of the seat straining against him, and in the crimson darkness, it was extremely disorienting.

His hand reached up to his face to find tears - had he been sad? Ignoring it for the moment, he proceeded to get out of the pod, pleased that he was more or less uninjured.

It took a moment, but he managed to remove the seat's restraints. Unfortunately, the second he did so, he accelerated forward into the hatch of the pod with a yelp.

He laid there for a second before coming to the conclusion that the pod had landed upside down. An attempt to open the unmoving hatch confirmed his suspicions. Perhaps, if he could roll the pod over... On a whim, Den shoved his entire body to the right, and to his delight, the pod shifted slightly. Like a game, he rocked the pod back and forth. At first it was difficult to move it anymore than it did the first time, but then it seemed to lift up and over, rolling around a bit before coming to a stop. Dizzy but also giddy, Den popped the hatch off.

In awe, Den looked around. His pod was on a metal path, on either side of which there was nothing. The emptiness stretched down until it was engulfed in a murky darkness. In the distance, he could just make out bronze, rust coloured gears rotating ever so slowly. The floor rang out as he landed on it. Den quickly ran to and peered over the edge, hands clasping the side, smiling at the vast void. It was like an ocean, occupied by metal reefs.

After a moment, he walked back to the pod, trailing his hand across its warm surface. What amazing world had the pod taken him? A glitter of bright light shined across his vision, and he looked up. Just a couple meters up, there was an bright and jagged gap. When his eyes adjusted, he realized that the pod had fallen in from it. His eyes came back down to the point where the pod had landed, evident by a large dent.

Den paused, remembering something... Wasn't there a scratching noise? His attention turned back to the pod. There were strange markings, unlikely from entry or from landing, the details were too fine. Now that he thought about it, the sound seemed to stop around when he began rocking the pod back and forth, or before that.

Thunk.

"Ow!" Den flew to the ground, his legs numb with pain. He turned around, and suddenly he was seized by the feet. A furry creature with goggles was binding his feet. They looked vaguely like something he had heard about before, but couldn't name. "Stop, what are you do- gah!" Den's hands were yanked up and were soon bound by another creature.

And then, with a third, Den was lifted up and away, wriggling and complaining vainly throughout.

The lanky knight awoke with a start for the second time that day. Once again disoriented, he peered around the cramped pod, a bit small for his tall frame. What was strange about the impact of his pod was that it wasn't such a large impact, and that he did not seem to have stopped moving... in fact he seemed to be moving up. Flicking a switch, Jeptha Volta, called Jep or Jay by his few good friends, opened the shield behind the pod's blast glass window and saw nothing but blue. This was bad.

The tall knight unstrapped himself and began to do something his senior knights always told him not to do: rock the boat. After a few minutes of semi-hopeless motion, he prevailed in turning the pod skyward, opening the hatch and keeping the handle as a momento. Though above water, he was not close to being safe... he saw nothing but waves all around, almost to the horizon of his vision. You see, Jeptha could not swim very well at all. His only option was to use the pod as a boat, a challenge in and of itself, as it was prone to tipping and he would have to improvise a paddle.

Thinking quickly, Jep opened the small green lockbox nestled in the pod, housing the training/exploration gear known as "Proto", a cheap quality set, but useful in a pinch. Inside, near the top, lay the shield of the set. Jep fished a small prying tool from his brigandine-style military-colored tunic's leather pouch. With this, he detached the back of the shield and removed a tiny shield generator from inside along with its marble-sized tearium power source. Attaching this to the proto sword, he turned it on which generated a sword-shaped field which would increase the size of the sword into a usable paddle.

Jeptha was thankful that he did not have to use any of his personal gear for this device as he began to paddle, roughly to the east according to his HUD compass/ guidance system. He would need it if and when hostiles attacked... they would probably just tear through proto gear.

Fishing some more through the box a few minutes later, riding a small current eastward, Jep pulled out the comlink and turned it on. "Hello out there, this is Jeptha Volta. I have landed in the midst of an ocean it appears. What is your rough position? I am headed eastward according to my gear, over."

I inspected the elevator, to see if I could go back up. . .
The pod was firmly jammed into the elevator, and was probably too much weight for it.
With my high tuned sensors, I listened.
Besides the clicks and clacks of the gears that seem to litter this world, There was no buzzing electricity sound- not going to the elevator at least. All hopes of going whence I came were gone.
The other buzzing sound, however, was that of the panels scattering the floor; and the Comlink.
Turning the volume up, I could tell that there was no use- Too much interference.
Normally, I would grab a toolkit, and start taking everything apart around me, though that wouldn't seem very kind to this forged planet; Besides, now was not the time for it.
A few of the panels slammed open, and dog shaped turrets spewed bullets- The special green and orange one even shot a rocket, Which flew spinning towards me. In a last second attempt, I turned on the generator in my shield, and blocked.
The staggering avalanche of force kicked dirt up beneath my feet, as I fought for traction.
Hurling myself upward with immense strength, I dive-kicked the Rocket-Puppy. Luckily, the Puppy's metal was weaker, and thus the frame shattered- Screws and other shrapnel flying about.
What could be described as not so lucky though, were the bullets passing through, past, and around me.
-
Now, here's a misconception about robots and pain; we don't feel it.
In truth, some of us feel every part of us being destroyed- percievably moreso than our creators.
Why, you might ask?
The energy I'm powered with makes every part of machinery in me alive.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back into first person.
-
"AAAaAaaaAaaaAAAAAaAAAAAAAAAAAAuuuuuuUAAAAAUUUUUUUuuuuuuuUuuuGGgGGGGGGGgHHHH!"
Those that were paying attention to the comlink would hear a robotic screech, and then the sound of metal being pummeled and pummeled and pummeled and pummeled.

Den was not having any fun at all, for being carried such a long distance was not comfortable. He had, for the moment, given up any resistance, to what he felt like was his captor's relief.

A crackling sound abruptly filled his ears. It was incredibly incomprehensible, sounding like a dying, mutilated robot undergoing shock therapy.

Suddenly they were going up. There was a grinding screech and harsh light flooded the area. Unfazed, they carried on. By the time Den's eyes adjusted, the transmission cleared out.

"- I am headed eastward according to my gear, over," the transmission finished. Den gasped in surprise.

"Yes! Hello? Help me!" Den shouted, prolonging the last word in desperation. Of course, he was unable to turn on his com link. The captors muttered something, and eventually switched directions. The smell of water tickled the air, and soon Den found himself, quite roughly, hurled into a cage. His bonds were taken off, but the door was locked and sealed immediately after, not that Den would have been able to escape. Their job seemingly done, the three captors quickly walked off, mumbling in irritation, with an occasional finger pointed back at Den.

"Wait! No, don't leave me here!" Den cried, but they only walked faster. Resigned, Den slumped against the metal bars, and recalling the transmission, was about to shout again. "Oh yeah," he said to himself. With a flick, the com link went on.

"Hello? Are you nearby?" Den transmitted, glancing around. His cage was nestled between other, empty, cages, with a rocky outcropping behind him. "Oh, right, over!" he quickly added.

As Jep waited for an answer, he analyzed his options in case his new contact couldn't help right away or at all. His pod, he knew, was equipped with a homing device, but hostiles would detect that signal with little trouble... that would only be used in absolute emergiencies. Something else to do would be to try rigging up a motor of some sort to the pod... but that would require taking apart much of the gear onboard if it was even probable to build one...

For now he would wait.

I shivered, rolling my shoulders to free any loose ice crystals. It was strangely loud in the Cryo-chamber but not a single knights voice could be heard " who has ever heard of dreaming during Cryo-sleep?" I said aloud, pinching myself.
I started to put on my gear, slipping my helmet down over my ears. Immediately I heard the chatter of voices through my com-unit
"WARNING. ENTERING ATMOSPHERE."
Perfect, I wake up late at the only time when it would matter... I buckled my last strap and reported into my mouth-piece
"Knight 2567 Stenev is now awake, awaiting orders." and I was, for the first time, graced with the voice of Captain Ozlo in my earpiece
"Ohh, good, wait what am I saying? not good at all but it will serve my purpose. Knight Stenev... I have a job for you."
"Yes si-"
"Don't interrupt. we have no time for formalities, the Skylark was fired upon by an unknown entity and is crash-landing on an uncharted planet. my job for you is to keep the engine core from exploding, if it does the whole planet will be kaput and the Morai will have won because of a single. simple miscalculation. GO"

* * *

I crawled down the center of the corridor, ducking below the black smoke that drifted in lazy coils through the Skylark. over the past few minutes the floor temperature had been climbing steadily, all the lamps were off but the flame just outside the hatches filled the spaceship with flickering crimson luminence.
I halted my crawling,
"Why have you stopped." demanded captain Ozlo
"My gloves are melted onto the floor" I answered, marvelling at such personal attention from a captain.
"Ohhh"
"Don't worry sir, I have this all figured out" I said reassuringly as I slipped my hands out of my gloves and stood up. but seconds later I doubled over, coughing
"no worryi-cough-ng I still hav-cough-e this...". I tried again, this time holding my breath. in the corner of my eye I saw the glint of a line of lockers, and an idea dawned on me, if only I had a crowbar or maybe some skeleton keys.
"Wait, keys?" I thought to myself, remembering that I had a rather large 'key' strapped onto my waist. "clang" said my sword as it smashed into the cupboard's lock,
"not so much as a scratch..." I said dissaprovingly,"but if I remember correctly the best lock in the world is worth nothing without a well-made door to put it on" I muttered as my sword came crashing down again, snapping the hinges of the locker.
"Perfect" I almost yelled as I saw what was in the cupboard,
"Fire-break gear" I reported to Ozlo,"and a S.C.B.A.(Self-contained-breathing-apparatus )" donning it and throwing my old stuff into a bag. Ahh the joys of pure oxygen.
Several minutes later I stopped and reopened my Com-line with Ozlo
"Captain Ozlo sir."
"What is it this time? and why are you out of breath?"
"I was sprinting -huh- but on another note, I am about two rooms away form the engines main control panel. But there are two huge constructs that resemble evil trees in my path. as I said, they are made mostly of wood, but the giant exposed cogs attached to what looks like a hammer doesn't instill the fealing of peace and happiness in me."
"you are probably right about the lack of peace related thoughts in their heads, we have yet to find any evidence of friendly life since we woke up next to this Vog forsaken planet."
I whipped my proto-gun out of it's holster and held down the trigger, the universal sign of charge attacks. I popped out from behind my cover and released a red ball of energy at the construct to the left of the doorway. "Great, all we need in a flaming spaceship, more fire." I remarked as my target burst into flames. the constructs lumbered towards me, teetering on their tiny feet. I Rolled to the right, drawing my sword, only to see the burning construct smash it's "friend" and send it flying into me.
I crawled out from under the robot whose chest area was now reduced to match-wood and ran around to the back of robot #1. My calibur plunged to the hilt into where a power-cell would be posisioned, then it colapsed, eyes already dimmming.]
"Sir, I have reached the control room." I reported to Ozlo
"Why did you even bother to tell me that?" he questioned.
>/initiate fuel jettison
Initiated.
Passcode:
>
"Sir, what is the fuel jettison pass-code?"
"123Ilikekittens" Ozlo replied, only a little shame-faced.
Passcode:
> 123Ilikekittens
Correct. jettison in progress
"Oh Vog!" I exclamed, alarm evident in my voice.
"what?"
"it says system malfunction, the launch tube is clogged."
"I feel you... we are all screwed."
"wait, what is the passcode for cargo shuttle 5512A?"
"why?"
"I saw it on the way over, we could use it to launch the fuel."
"Ohh, good plan, the password is 12345"
"Wow, that is the same password I have on my luggage."
"Jettison complete" the console blink silently at me. a grin spread across my face, people are so gullible.

Mundy was about to ask how Chael planned on getting to the surface (assuming there even was one in this metalic creation), since he saw no obvious way to anything close to the "sky". Chael was allready on his feet and moving, however, so he just decided to go along. Switching the Magnus for his Blaster, he picked up the pace.

Once he caught up with Chael, something else captured his attention.
They were on a floating island.
Connected to other floating islands by metal pathways.

Vakarian abruptely stopped at such sight, trying to understand what his eyes were seeing.

The Skyla-ish thing sighed out in annoyance. "Alright. I'm on my way, Dan."
It switched off the com-link, and gazed upon what she had wrought.
One of the gun puppies was obliterated to the point it was unrecognisable- another was a pancake, and the third was ripped out of the ground and slammed into submission. The fourth seemed to have been exploded from the inside.
It couldn't help but smirk at the heedless destruction.
Now, onto more important matters. the being who called himself Dan... Or was it Den? Sh!t. Whatever-
He said he was stuck in a cage. That meant that he was being held captive, yet had acess to his comlink.
So, it is safe to assume that whatever took him laid a very obvious trap.
This was going to be fun.
Oh, wait... Who am I? Bah, what does it matter- I'll just call myself. . . Lyra to get it over with.
Since it's a trap, It's probably best to use a ranged weapon. Conveniently, there was a blaster placed behind my. . . Falchion.
Why do I have... No, it's best not to dwell on that, and get my ass moving; Den's counting on me.
-
A few hours later, Jeptha arrived to what could simply be described as a field of plates with reinforced boxes everywhere.
Beepbeepbeepbeep- Yep, He's close.
Now all that's left is the delightful carnage, and his rescue.

Lyra smirked.

After several minutes had passed without any reply from Mundy, Aralon decided to press forward. She needed to get away from the crash site, especially since the warm welcome forewarned even more concessions for sitting targets. If Mundy didn't see the flare, undoubtedly something else would.

Something that she didn't want to meet face-to-face.

Grass crumpled under Aralon's feet for the first time in over a decade as she made her way across various walkways between various sectors of the stratum. The reunion with the old sensation was one of little note, for the vegetation only served to impede her progress with its uneven surface.

And then, in the distance, she saw them.

Six, maybe eight silhouettes in the distance fanning out.

Aralon barely escaped their notice as she got down prone behind an elevated piece of rock, a sort of adobe square, and watched them pass by. Hulking masses of scrap metal, fur, and wood sauntered past, and went a ways towards the crash site, about half a mile away.

And so Aralon had the luxury of time and stealth. Slowly, she stood up again, and looked inwards at the stone. Neatly carved into the square slab was an indentation to catch what must've been rainwater, for crystal clear liqiud pooled up inside such an indentation.

Following a heavy breeze, water vapor enveloped Aralon and Serah, hiding them in a shroud of mist. Aralon took this opportunity, this almost-guarantee of safety, to slip into the pool with Serah. Even though Aralon's utility suit could not allow her to become wet, there was this off-putting coolness to it that made her shudder regardless.

Though the water was only up to her waist, Serah could not be sat down unless her entire face were to be submerged, so she had to lain on Aralon's lap.

The reasoning behind this was the fact that Serah had suffered burns. From what Aralon recalled in first aid, only cooling down the burns could help. Not until Serah could get to safety would Aralon do anything more, but she certainly wouldn't do anything less.

Unfortunately, in this position, Aralon's short stature made her struggle in turn. Water rose and seeped into her utility suit from the neck, and Aralon really felt the chills.

And then she could hear it again. Out in the mist, were the mechanical whirs, the alien barks and clicks. Aralon pulled Serah's head down so it was only just abobve the surface, and closed her nose as she went underwater.

One...

Shoot, she didn't take a full breath.

Three...

...when would she have to resurface?

Six...

What might happen if they found her?

Ten...

What would they do?

Fifteen...

What about the others?

Twenty one...

Mundy and Cherub? Were they already among the dead? Was that the cause for silence?

Twenty eight...

This eerie silence that followed the bloody welcoming? This silence was supposed to never come back. It was supposed to never exist after the Morai War. So why now? Why did Aralono hear her heart beat so loudly? Why was she so...scared?

As slowly as her burning lungs could allow her, Aralon sat up straighter again, and peeked up from the pool. They were gone, and she was safe.

If it wasn't the cold water, it was the fact that she saw a collection of scrapped Proto-helmets tacked onto a large lumbering robot, one all covered in blood that made her piss herself.

They were all so small, those helmets...like they could fit children.

While considering whether or not to make more blooping sounds, a transmission graced Den. Unfortunately, he was unsure how he could do that. The path that lead to wherever his captives had gone was too sloped downwards, and thus he couldn't actually see any of them.

"Uh, I guess I can try! Are you sure they're hostiles? What if they just want to know more about us? I mean, we did land on their home, right?" Den asked. Den paused and then giggled at the name that the supposed Skyla had given him.

"By the way, is the other guy still here?" Den wondered aloud, looking behind him at the rocky wall. A breath of wind rose up and there was the smell of water again.