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Originally posted by TheRealMe:
TheRealMe spends the better part of an hour plotting some potential hyperspace jumps to worlds where the platinum from the Ocean Cloud Scam might be readily spent. He would consult with Jadehand and Seryn later to see if they had any specific opinions.

After this task, TheRealMe leads a group in the unpleasant task of cleaning up the Common Room. There are dead of both sides, dropped equipment, smashed furniture, and shining discs of precious DVD collections scattered everywhere.

There are others in the Common Room: SimonWho is treating Jadehand. McQ, the impressive cyborg, is helping as he can. Deuce is wandering around, muttering at the devastation, until Cozen swoops in to kidnap her. Oh well, she doesn’t seem to be objecting, and she can certainly take care of herself!

The cleanup crew consisted pretty much of TheRealMe, Trey, Sparky, Nugget the Meteor Troll, and the surviving Yeti. Sparky conveys a suggestion from Jet’s friend Warren (aka ScorpionRegent) that the Alliance bodies be searched for any equipment or items for intelligence purposes. That was a good idea.

TheRealMe does not interfere with the Yeti’s funeral customs, but considers what to do with all the other casualties. “Hmmm… We’ll need to set up a morgue, probably in a cargo bay… and maybe find a shepherd….”

TheRealMe surveys the rest of the Common Room, shaking his head. “Sad, sad. What a tremendous loss of life. Well, high on our list is repairing the main airlock. That Sticky compound just burned right through the thick metal of the… Uh, Sparky?”

“Yes, sir?”

“What is that movement in the rubble around the airlock?”

“It is the Ebo Golem.”

TheRealMe is genuinely surprised. “Really? I thought it got blown to pieces by a rocket launcher!”

“That is correct, sir. Blown to pieces. Yet, one piece is still functioning.”

TheRealMe runs over to where the Ebo Golem is still trying to push rubble to block the airlock. Its right arm and much of its right torso is missing. Its movements are shaky and unsure. “Ebo Golem! Stop your work and stand over there!” The Ebo Golem obeys and moves to the location specified.

"Hmmm... If we collected all its pieces... and got a bottle of superglue..."

Then TheRealMe notices something as he looks down the corridor of the airlock. “Hey, is that a ship docked there? Did all our sensors short out or something? Sparky, please clear me a path to that ship!”


TheRealMe, First Officer of the Sereni-Tree

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Originally posted by McQ:
As McQ assists in cleaning up the rummage in the common room and makes minor repairs to holes in the walls with a laser welder equiped in his left arm's accessories. He turns and notices a petite body in a corner. The body is wearing an Alliance uniform, but there's something different about it. McQ squats down by the body and gently lifts it's head which is encased in a cracked battle helmet. He realizes right away that this soldier is a woman. McQ removes the cracked helmet to reveal long brunette hair that covers the woman's face. He gently brushes the hair aside, gets a look at the face and is filled with sudden horror.

His memory races back to before he became a cyborg and was known to most as - what was that name? - oh yes, McQwertz. Patrick McQwertz. It was so clear now. He remembers how he had a relationship with this woman and even asked for her to marry him. The marriage never happened as he was severely wounded in a battle and presumed dead by most. The memory fades and McQ's awareness returns to present time.

"How can this be?" he asks quietly. "This can't be happening. It...it can't!!" his voice gets a little louder and others in the room turn to observe. McQ's anger for his former sweetheart's death and for the Alliance to allow her to fight such a hopeless battle turns to rage. He stands up, not aware of those looking at him and bellows out in a low, slightly mechanical roar, "NO!!! THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!!" McQ turns and punches a steel beam, slightly denting it then realizes he's not alone in the room. He turns back around and notices everyone looking at him. He breathes deeply for a moment as all eyes are fixed on him - some in confusion, others a little afraid. "Sorry," McQ simply says and kneels down next to his fallen sweetheart.

He proceeds to lift her small petite body and notices her severe wounds in the process. His anger turns to sorrow and - could it be? - a tear escapes his human eye and slowly makes it's way down his cheek. McQ stands up with the woman's body in his arms and sees he's still being watched by the others as some lower their heads upon understanding what happened.

"We must give her proper burial," he says a bit more calmly and with his voice breaking a little. McQ slowly makes his way out of the room and heads for the cargo bay, not knowing where else to take his fallen bride-to-be. The others pause for a moment, not quite sure what to make of what happened before returning to their duties of cleaning up the common room.

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Originally posted by SimonWho:
Son? I think you should go get some sleep. See if your mother is around. She might need some company.

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*As she stands next to TRM, quietly watching Sparky clear what seems like a ton of debris from where they stand to the place the craft is docked, Washie whips around upon hearing a gut-wrenching cry of despair from something not quite human.

Their new friend McQ has found somebody close to him, and worse, has LOST her too. The body of his beloved is cradled in his arms, her long oak-colored hair rivals the gleam of his metal arms as he carries her, one small pale hand waves sadly as he ponderously steps out of the common room, heading down the hall to points unknown, looking for burial where there is none to be had.

Squeezing TRM's arm, she asks, "Sparky'll be a few minutes longer, TRM, I'll be back in less time than that. Stay, yes?" Not awaiting a reply, she rushes out the door following McQ, figuring this might be a job for her as ship's counselor, although lacking SimonWho's approval, she isn't technically employed yet.

Catching up with McQ easily assisted by still-winged feet, she calls out to him and skids to a halt as he does.

Staring up into his faceplate, Washie plumbs the depths of his mind, brushing past the dagger-like pain and want in the man, clearing a pathway to soothe where she can, heal where he is ready to allow it. Unlike Jadehand's tortured psyche from earlier, this cyborg is made of more easily healed stuff.

"Hey. It was beautiful, what you two had, Honey. 'Twould be easy to let the fact of your finding her and losing her again like this kill your chances of making a new life. Feel your pain, don't fight it, but know this for true: If you let it, the time will come when you will smile when you think of her, instead of wanting to weep. I promise, okay?"

She watches a tear streak down McQ's cheek to plop with a ping on his armoured torso. Looking down at the creature's large feet, Washie steps up onto his "instep" and hugs him and his sweetheart, tucking her head under his chin, her cheek against his cold metal shoulder. Taking off her outer robe, Washie gently lays it over the lifeless woman's body, tucking it carefully over the pale battle-streaked but still lovely face.

"The medlab's that way, my Friend," she points down the corridor. "Take her there and lay her down, McQ. We'll get her a proper burial, I promise, after the living are seen to. Will you trust me?"

McQ nods and strides heavily off toward the medlab, glad to have direction from a friend. Washie flies back to TRM just in time to see him begin striding towards the spectre of a craft attached to their home like a parasitic mushroom to the base of a Sequouia. She moves into step beside him, gathering power along the way, hands clenched tight, holding it in in case they need it, all her mind's considerable reading impulses tuned toward what's ahead of them.

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