Emergency lights washed over The Wayfarer's interior. The lone mercenary waited patiently in the control room that would watch over the entire hangar. It was a relatively small room with dim lighting, now rendered to pure darkness only to be driven away by the occasional red lights piercing the windows. He spoke quitely, to himself whilst taking full advantage of the helmet which distorted his speech, making it hard to understand. The only way to kill time for the sellsword was through a fluid motion with his right hand by flipping a lighter on an off.
It was an old fashioned lighter, nonetheless. Something he had found in a small box containing the belongings of a man he could no longer feel for. Not in his entire lifetime for what its worth. The helmet Caliban wore had a plethora of holographic pages opened up before itself. His focus was in reality, towards the supplies being loaded into his ship. Food, water, oxygen followed by a fair amount of crates holding high caliber ammunition.
Miscellaneous equipment was gathered from various parts of The Wayfarer's sections. Research equipment, welding tools, demolition charges. Everything that was necessary for a field operation. Such gear would be greatly useful for exploring an abandoned Station, perhaps even the cave system of a Planet. But he was going somewhere much more dangerous than that. Dangerous, because he could not know in the slightest what would lie beyond the impenetrable shields of a Nomad City. There were many things Vincent feared, very few that Caliban feared. Yet, both had one thing in common. A phobia towards the absolute Unknown. It wouldn't matter how many variables would be laid on the table. There would still be a little window for a surprise. An unsolvable flaw in any plan that was ever made. And that terrified both.
The EMP bomb was being constructed, charged by the foul technology Caliban resented for months. He could not get near the Power Cells anymore. Their mere influence had forced the man to lose control once. He could not afford to do it again. Not when his fate will be shared with the one that granted him the benefit of the doubt and allowed such an operation to come to fruition.
But, Director Steiner was always a questionable man. In Caliban's eyes, the Director was nothing more than a tool. Something he could step on and further his own goals. At least that was the initial mindset. Now, the Director has become a little more than just a tool. Perhaps the greatest hero Bretonia would witness or a demented fool to jump into the jaws of death for the slimmest chance to get rid of something as vile as the City that Sunderland has attached itself to. A mistake for sure, but mistakes are to be learned from one way or another. The merc' would at least look at the former "tool" differently this time. He knew far too well what it meant to be one.
Fear of the unknown is like a plague that one can not get rid of so simply. Unlike a trivial phobia of heights, the unknown is always there. Beckoning the fools to drown in its grasp, while pushing them away with its mere existence. Too many have fallen to it. And the risk taken to purge an Icon of Alien dominance would be high.
Perhaps, too high.
(//OORP: Temporarily on hold.)
"Test the sharpness of your sword against another. And when that is not enough, unsheathe your cunning as the hidden dagger that ends the fight."
![[Image: YrC3Y1E.png]](https://i.imgur.com/YrC3Y1E.png)