The Chronicles of X.

[n00bl3t]

816 AS.

Due to time constraints and the courses that each commanding officer had to complete before being able to take command of The Hedge, the two commanding officers would only permanently arrive on the ship the day before it launched. Having said that, they had met most of the crew in the various visits they had made to the drydock to inspect the ship.

Anderson's pre-command plight involved participating in further tactical training, a course held personally by X to tutor her on how to command an assassination unit. Turner's was more voluntary, he decided to spend time in combat simulation, as well as practising on the range. He also intended to further his skills in hand-to-hand combat training, but there was not enough time. As usual, Fionnlagh led them to the shipyard where their vessel lay in the drydock.

Arata Takuma was right near the main personnel entrance to the ship fixing the communication panel on the wall, when Anderson, Turner and Fionnlagh entered. He immediately stood upright and bowed. As per the the Order's code, for a person of a lower rank working on the ship, there was no need for a salute or even acknowledgement. However, Takuma was a man of honour.

Anderson and Turner nodded curtly. Fionnlagh walked straight on. He could not understand the Kusari man and whilst he did not dislike the man, he disliked not being able to decipher him.

Takuma bowed again, at the door at the end of the entrance's corridor, where the three walked through, even though no-one would see it. He did not require the gesture to be seen anyway. His honour was evaluated by himself, and only himself, in his eyes.

"What is that"? Turner questioned Fionnlagh on the strangest device occupying all the space in what should have been the secondary command centre.

"I have no idea Sir, but she does." Elizabeth Boehme now came into the picture, after her brisk introduction by Fionnlagh. "If you will excuse me Ma'am, I have duties for the Admiral before we launch."

Anderson's eyebrow raised by just a fraction of a hair. "Go ahead."

"Elizabeth Boehme." Boehme held out her hand. Anderson and Turner shook it. If they were asked about it later, both would agree on the fact that it felt as if Boehme was bouncing up and down on the spot.

"We know. Nice file." Anderson alluded to the fact that Boehme's file was much like Fionnlagh's; it existed, and all the i's were dotted and t's crossed, but there was something missing.

"Well, I am full of surprises Commodore." Boehme beamed. Anderson nodded. She had been assured by X that Boehme was very useful. Turner also nodded solemnly. He knew all the specifics of just how useful she was.

"Anyway, since we have been introduced and all, I operate this contraption. Oh, and the extremely polite Kusari man you no doubt saw on your way here does as well. He oversees the communications bit, while I run the other operations in it."

"Other operations?" Anderson said sharply, moving Turner's face from a solemn rock to an interested rock.

"A bit hard to explain, but it finds things for us. Mainly useful information. Get the ship close enough to anything, and I can tell you all about it and access anything electronically stored within it, even command it." Boehme beamed as she said it.

"No exceptions?" Anderson was taught nothing was perfect.

"Everything can be gotten or gotten to, the question is time." Boehme knew that if you put your mind to it, anything was possible.

Anderson thought for a while. "Well, we need to get settled in. Get the crew assembled in the main hall, I will address everyone once I freshen up and finish setting up. That will be two hours from now."

"Will do." Boehme casually moved away, whistling lightly.

Turner and Anderson went to their respective rooms. They came out one hour and 45 minutes later, read out their individual speeches in ten minute blocks, ate dinner, and went back to their cabins. Some members of the crew followed suit.

The other members did not; some were just finishing their last minute preparations. Von Ormstein was replacing a broken gear in the secondary engine lift, Fionnlagh was playing war-games in his head, plotting out the various scenarios that could take place if The Order was defeated, Takuma sat in The Bubble fine-tuning his transmission interception equipment to eliminate the leftover disruption caused by space dust which he had not removed before, whilst Boehme sat next to him, eating food that crunched loudly in an effort to break his concentration, and last of all, Cyrus sat in the medical bay, lying on a casualty bed wondering whether he would ever work out the method to a goal he had in mind.

Some other members of the crew adjusted electronics, re-tuned the guns, moved their beds around and removed cumbersome doors as well as performing some other minor actions. However, in truth, everyone on the ship was playing the waiting game. The ship would launch tomorrow morning.

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Anything I say is not intended as offensive, and to try and deliberately misinterpret it as such would be an attempt at trolling via misrepresentation.

It's not a conspiracy, it's localised bias. They're not intelligent enough to form a conspiracy.