Fallen Grace

[Dane Summers]

Maria was met on the hanger floor by an unassuming technician, and four guards. While armed, their rifles were slung. The Tech wheeled a small ladder for her to step out of her fighter, and took her flight board to start going over any maintenance it might need while she was aboard. No words were exhanged. She noticed the patch on his uniform was the old red navy crest, while the opposite patch was the flaming skull of Westridge's command. He refused to look in her eyes.

The guards approached, and while she wasn't relieved of her sidearm, the general attitude was one of complete dominance. The guards felt distant, the hangar bay felt alien, and the ship itself felt a million miles away from home - despite the fact it was as Colonial as anything would ever get in this universe. From the pristine Nyx's in their revetments, to the random shipwide announcements - nothing about this place would ever feel comfortable - and that thought was far more chilling.

No words spoken, she was escorted out of the hangar and through the ship. By the small decrease in temperature, she guessed they were somewhere near the keel of the ship. Zipping up her leather flight jacket, itself new - proudly displaying the flaming phoenix of the Colonial Military, and the shadowed moon patch of the 17th Rapiers - a blood chit adorned the back of the jacket with her own personal heraldry - a black raven cutting through nebulas and stars. The new patches, the new heraldry, though the motto may be the same, it was a small piece of new surrounded by years of old. Like an upstart...
...or a usurper, she thought.

Ushered into a small room, to wait, the door closed, and thick locks engaged. The room was empty.

In her entire life, Maria "Raven" Aias did her best to live by one rule - never walk into an unknown situation.

Breaking that rule now, she hoped it wasn't a fatal mistake.

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