Welcome to Gaia! ::

Looking to Ami and the others volunteering, she gave them all a light nod. Hopefully, if sacrificed, her plan would work, and one of them with the password, would reach the Junkyard. All she could do was keep faith that this would all work out somehow.

Kat groaned inwardly as Ami repeated the password to her. Gawd.. to have to say that, and out loud.. She was going to kill Mark for this. Of course he would make them say such a ridiculous password like that. The little b*****d. "Yeah.."

Her gaze lingered on her for a moment as she drew her weapon. It was good to see her with a weapon similar to Junpei again, even if it really wasn't her actual weapon.

"This will all work out somehow. I'm sure of it."

Click, click.

The sound of boots echoing off of cold, white walls rang in her ears.

Click, click, click.

Every step was a step closer to something she wasn't quite sure she wanted to make her way towards. Her fingers fumbled over the PDA in her hands. I got something to say to you in person. Madeline inhaled, stepping into one of the elevators that ran between floors. Her fingers ghosted over the numbers, hovering just on the 2nd floor. Did she really want to go through with this? On the brink of a war, anything that crossed the boundaries of flirtatious friendship seemed... - Madeline smiled, despite herself. Anything like that seemed so much more dangerous than a bullet to the head.

But fate had other plans.

Whatever Dakota had been planning to say, and whatever Madeline might have said in return would never happen. Not now.

Wilson's voice echoed out of her PDA, calling for volunteers, which meant - a gathering was about to happen. Madeline immediately pressed her thumb against the 3rd floor button. The elevator whirred into silent action, the holographic lights flickering in and out as she passed the second floor to the third. Her stomach clenched as she stepped off of the platform, and she walked with forced pride to the open room. Crewmembers milled about, and she rifled through them without paying attention until she was at the front where Wilson was. Volunteers, he'd said. Sacrifices.

Did they always do what the Voice decreed then? Was that how this war was supposed to go? Being dictated by an invisible presence?

She pushed the hood of her jacket back, listening to the murmurings around her. Wilson's presence was like a white flame in the corner of her eye, there, burning, and daring her to look. She didn't like the idea of her going into the battlefield. Even more than that though, she hated the idea of sacrifices. But she knew there'd be volunteers, just as surely as there would be a sun in the sky and a moon at night, and a body to warm her bed. But never his. Madeline pushed her hair back from her face and waited for the inevitable. However, what happened next was like a bullet straight into her head; a car crash she was watching in slow motion. The moment the emergency landing had been called aboard the ship when they'd initially gone down, only this was ten times worse.

"I volunteer."

At first she pretended to believe she was hearing a different voice; she was tired and it was a mistake and whoever she looked at next would most certainly not be Dakota. But when she turned her head, there he was, standing in front of Wilson and burning bright like a flame in the dark. And when he looked at her, with that cocky grin and those bright eyes - it was all wrong. It was all wrong. This wasn't where he was supposed to confess to her. This wasn't the story she'd asked for.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

The words were burning in her mind. Was this what he'd wanted to tell her before? Was this what he was daring to tell her now, on a deathbed he'd asked for himself?

There were other volunteers, but they were little more than distractions in the back of her mind. She was at the end of the crash, she was a survivor in the wreckage of Dakota's actions, and now it was her turn to choose what to do. And Madeline - Madeline never went quietly without a bang.

Click, click, click.

Her boots echoed off of the sterile, cold white floor. She was walking towards something she knew would be the end, and this time she wasn't going to run away.

She grabbed Dakota's shoulder, and spun him around to face her. Just like how they'd first met in this world. Just like how they'd first kissed, first flirted, first talked. She smiled, but it wasn't full of fire. It was sad and loving and heartbroken. It was all the things she couldn't say. "I love you too." She whispered, and then, without ceremony, she reeled her fist back, and punched him across the face.

Dropping him on the ground at her feet, Madeline spun and stormed towards Wilson. "Seeing as the Lieutenant is now incapacitated - " Thanks to her, and probably not incapacitated at all, "I volunteer in his place." She said, and the ferocity in her tone suggested that she wouldn't take no for an answer. She lowered her voice so that only Wilson could hear. "You still need him. Please. Let me go instead."

She smiled ruefully, and took a step back.

So this is what love is.

She looked back at Dakota one last time, straightened her shoulders, and waited for Wilson to decide.

I'm sorry. I love you. She whispered it in her head, again and again. Forgive me. I love you. I'm sorry. Goodbye.

Wilson stiffened when the first to volunteer was his ranked, his lieutenants. Technically, the Voice had called for two pawns, which meant two officers. He threw both Dakota and Kat uneasy glances, but the uneasiness faded from his face when there seemed to be a slightly different look to them. They were exactly the same, but there was an aura about the two that made him pause, as if they weren’t the Dakota and Kat he had come to know and cherish. Cybernetic eyes settled on the 2nd lieutenant first. He watched Dakota turn away to mutter something, but obviously it was inaudible. It was a shame the commander couldn’t read lips.

Kat seemed more purposeful as she volunteered herself. And then he nearly jumped when he heard his other 2nd lieutenant offer herself up as a sacrifice as well. “This is a heavy decision to make, you realize that?” he cautioned in a gentle voice. “If you become a sacrifice, I must kill you.” Just so I can remain here, away from the battlefield. The reality stung, but somehow he still stubbornly clung to the notion of staying inside the ship. Now was not the time to rush into the heat of battle. At least not now. He had to gather his thoughts together, perhaps even wait it out to see how the flow of the fights went. There was a reason. It wasn’t because he was a coward.

And yet the very fact he was trying to justify his choice implied otherwise. He felt crushed beneath an invisible weight of grief and self-loathing. Maybe it was better to enter the fray from the very beginning after all.

Nononono! Not another ranked! This time it was his sergeant, his only sergeant. His distress began to visibly show, but Wilson restrained it as much as he could. To those who knew him well, they noticed his deeply furrowed brows, the way he sometimes bit down on his bottom lip or pressed his lips together, the way his eyes kept darting from place to place. And yet Ami too had a peculiar change to her tone. It was so similar, but the commander had always been keen. He didn’t understand, but at this time he didn’t care. All three were still his beloved crewmen through and through.

And then the punch. It was almost as if he could clearly hear the sound of the surgeon’s fist colliding with the Livius’ face before he stumbled backwards and collapsed to the floor. His eyes widened and his lips parted with shock. He gripped his PDA tighter. A part of him wished to know what exactly was going on, but that kiss and that peculiar look on the officer’s face just before she had pummeled him. Somehow, it told Wilson more than enough if her resolute tone wasn’t hint enough. He nearly flinched when Madeline spoke once more in a lower voice, one that only he could hear.

Love. This was love. This was what it could only be. He knew it when he saw it because it stared him in the face every day when he caught his reflection as he thought about Emmaline. It tore him up inside to know he could so easily break the pair apart, whether or not the feelings were mutual. Oh, how much he wanted to facilitate this relationship. They could have what he could only wish after that incident, but he was the commander, not a friend. A choice had to be made. It was his duty.

He recomposed himself by straightening his back and shoulders. Wilson held his chin up a smidge higher. He fought back the emotions threatening to spill over as he called out in a solemn, clear voice that rang throughout the room, “Then it’s decided. My sacrifices are 1st Lieutenant Kat and Officer Madeline.”

A pause. “If any of the crewmen wish to temporarily leave the room that is fine. I will call you when all is said and done.” His hand brushed against the screen of his device so that the holoscreen switched off. Wilson pocketed his PDA and gestured for both women to approach him while he walked forward. Once both of them were within distance he murmured, his glassy gaze staring right between the pair.

“On my planet it is an honor to die by vapor. We’re completely made out of gas you see, so it’s nearly impossible to die in such a manner. It’s a miracle, a fate decreed by the gods themselves.” He paused as he stretched out both hands, which were already dissipating into streams of bright green. “I’ll try to make it quick as possible.” But there were no promises.

Mitsu was thankful for Poke's assistance in putting the fires out but jumped when there was a sudden spray of foam. Her pandabot saw fit to approach the bikes once the fire was gone to slap a band-aid against one of the bigger dents and nodded approvingly. 'Doki.' Apparently that would fit everything. Mitsu only wished it would.

"I think it's going to take more than that, Pandy." Mitsu said regretfully.

Turning around to thank Poke for her assistance they were suddenly all called to attention by the voice. A sense of dread filled her as soon as the voice touched her mind telling her and everyone the same terrible news. Two would have to die or their king would have to sacrifice himself.

The idea sent shivers down her spine and she wasn't able to speak when it was all said and done. So many others were volunteering and she had given herself already to this battle but for some reason she couldn't raise her voice now. She was afraid.

((managed to get in a quick post ))

Did she realize it? Of course she realized it. That was why she volunteered. So no one else would have to die. But sadly her wish was not to be. After a glorious sucker punch by another crewmember wanting to take Dakota's place. And she did. Commander Wilson had chosen is sacrifices, and she wasn't among them.

There was a part of her that was relieved, as ashamed as she was to admit. She wasn't going to die. But that meant these two would. This simple fact that two allies were about to be destroyed and she couldn't do anything about it threatened to bring the Drogiam to her knees.

The offer to leave the room was then given, but Poke didn't not move. She would stay with them to the very end, that much she could do. And while others gave them their thanks and gave kind words, she didn't say a thing. She couldn't think of a damn thing to say to them.

Bix's reluctance to accept death so easily had become an immediate regret. Volunteers sprung up from their court. Their officers put themselves on the chopping block and before the albino could lift his hand and raise his voice, it was already too late.

"But.." The mass of people were moving out at the King's request. Wait. No. Better a true pawn! Not their officers! They would need them in the coming battle!

But it was too late and he was pushed out, brought along in the current of crew leaving the room. His stomach sank with every step but it was too late.

He'd missed his chance.




[oh sleep. you make me miss all the dramz.]

There was a stark expression on Roch's face as he watched the entire situation. This--this--

"He'd rather sacrifice his own than fight for them," he said almost silently. "What sort of commander is this that we're followin?" he asked, his voice no more than a breath of air. He turned his bike and rode away as the doors were opened and they were allowed to leave.

He had no love for his commander anymore. He was supposed to, in this place, but he didn't. He couldn't love or respect a man that would do something like this.

"And he said we weren't pirates," he said coldly as he landed on the first floor. "Fox girl... go ahead and cry. One of us has to."