During the dark matter wave...

[Zapp]

Omicron Eta, drifting

Outside the cockpit window's protection was a swirling mass of matter dark as pitch, beating against the hull of Giovanni Cordova's Switchblade Heavy Fighter. All systems down, he had a mask pressed to his face that delivered the precious oxygen he needed to survive -- life support had been disabled. The inside of his ship was beginning to be coated by thin layers of ice, as the heaters were also offline. Luckily, Cordova wore a bulky jacket and there was a small flame going before him. Always fly prepared, and every pilot with an ounce of sanity flew prepared for such a storm.

Only this was by far the worst Cordova had ever been in, and there was only so much oxygen gas, food rations, and, above all, Cardamine, to last him. Not for the first time, and definitely not for the last, his eyes glazed over as he looked inward to the past and fantasy, imagining the fiery redhead girl once more...



Omicron Delta, drifting

A peculiararity, a Liberty Navy Cruiser drifted through the waves of darkness that had descended upon all of Sirius. The ship itself seemed to give off a dark aura, as if born of Hell and borne along by the dark power of Lucifer himself. Patches of purple played across the hull of the mighty ship, entire turrets consumed by the parasite that called itself Slomon K'hara. The ship, far from civilization and those that hunted it, bided its time. In what had once been the command deck, a lone man sat and stared out the viewscreen that illuminated nothing. He could feel the movements of the crew as they prepared the ship once more.

There was always work to be done, and after such inactivity, they must be ready to move immediately. Robert Foster smiled slightly to himself. Much work to be done.



Omega 11, drifting

Karly Richter kicked the wall. Hard. She didn't seem to notice the pain, but what she did notice was that they were stuck in some damn dark matter wave that seemed to have no end, what few communications that came in predicted many more days of this, she was bored as hell, and she was out of booze.

Throwing a tantrum like a child, she knocked over a chair. Manfred just sat back in his chair in the small mess hall of their transport and laughed at her as the aged ship creaked and moaned.

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