It's been weeks since the last major offensive by the invaders on the Chirr'T'Thar's homeworld. Here in the Nexus system, the orbital mining station is going at full speed to produce more refined metals to repair the ships and build new ones. The gate, while still being weird, continues to function well. Things seem to be finally calming down.
A few shuttles are moving around the station, doing some basic guard duty, while monitoring the host of passive and active sensors scattered throughout this solar system.
All is peaceful and uneventfully quiet...until space twists in on itself high above the station, and wavering, definitely unstable jump point flashes into being. Lurching through this rift in space/time comes a -very- alien vessel, a small capital ship of some kind. And that is the best that can be told about it, for the ship is a mottled, organic, almost secreted looking affair, all smooth curves and odd bumps. There is a strange logic to its design, for viewed as a whole it looks very much like some sort of wasp or flying insect. But whatever its designers intended, the flashes, explosions, and arcs of energy that now wrack its length were certainly not part of the specifications.
Alarms go off from the sensors, and two shuttles change course to investigate the anomaly.
As abruptly as it appeared, the jump point collapses with a gravitic ripple. The alien vessel heels drunkenly to one side, tipping out of control towards the planet below. Now a companion to this vessel becomes visible... a much smaller ship of vastly different design. This one is a sleek, streamlined craft, a one-being starship of some sort. Painted in shades of buff-white and steel-grey, it looks almost raptorish, from the needle-prow to the sweeping atmospheric wings. Quadruple thruster-pods flank the hull, above and below each wing, and as the single ship breaks from its alien companion they fire brilliant bluish-white. The smaller ship almost literally leaps ahead on full-throttle thrust, obviously making a hell-for-leather run away from the stricken capital ship.
The shuttles are focusing on the larger ship for now, trying to hail it to find out who is dropping in on them un announced.
A final series of explosions eviscerate the drive section of the falling alien vessel, immediately after which it is consumed in a ferocious detonation which reduces the entire mass to orbital debris in one hellish instant. The smaller ship continues to open distance between it and the now expanding cloud of space-junk, nose angled towards deep space. But she isn't quite fast enough, and the intercepting shuttles have a clear view when the smaller vessel takes a large chunk of alien hull directly between the thruster manifolds.
The smaller ship slews around as its thrusters fire uncontrolled, then all four cut out. The ship is now angled directly for an unpleasant encounter with planetary atmosphere.
The small vessel begins to shudder as it makes a dead-stick entry, quickly becoming outlined in flame as it descends. The burning atmosphere doesn't seem to touch the ship, however, rather wrapping around an elliptical region that hugs the ship's hull.
Sensors track the path of the ship. Noting it's heading for a rather remote area, the shuttle contacts someone on the ground to check it out.
The pilot, whoever or whatever it is, does an admirable job of fighting sluggish, damaged controls on the way in. It manages to get the ship leveled out into a flattened glide path, approaching ground-level rapidly. When the inevitable impact occurs, it is on a level stretch of ground before a particular hill. This ship impacts, bounces, hits again, and proceeds to gouge a long furrow into the earth, shields giving way as it angles up the hillside. It comes to rest at the hilltop tree line, nose angled forlornly towards the heavens it just vacated. The ventral hull material is twisted, dented, and rent, and the wings are wrenched out of alignment. It is painfully obvious that this was -once- a fine vessel, but those days are behind it.
Silence falls now, broken only by the faint ticking of cooling alloys. A bit more time passes with no sign of movement from the craft.
Another object falls from the sky, perhaps a piece of the capital ship, colliding with the dorsal part of the craft with a loud clang. The large, but normal, rock rolls off the side and thwumps to the ground.
Eventually, there is a muffled hum from the vessel, a hiss... and a portion of hull just fore of the port wing unlocks and opens, lowering to form am adjusted debarkation ramp for the hatch underneath. The hatch opens with a muted hum and a humanoid figure steps to the top of the ramp. It is Devereaux in his shipsuit, but his head and hands are concealed a black-visored flight helmet and wire-laced gloves.
The forest seems not to care about this odd individual, and continues on with its chirping birds and whispering breezes, as if a deep rift was not just gouged through the grassy earth.
Devereaux raises his left wrist, muttering something quietly to the wristband and watching the readout screen on it intently. At last he seems satisfied, and reaches up to unseal and remove his helmet. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he walks down the ramp to survey his ship's condition from the outside. And the forest immediately resounds to the sound of furious and enthusiastic cursing.
Devereaux finishes his survey of his ship's condition. Shaking his head sadly, he turns to gaze around at the world he is now stranded on.
A colorful bird lands on Devereaux's ship and looks down quizzically at him.
Devereaux folds his arms and mutters to his wristband, "Guess I'd better start a scan, Bob. Tie me into the sensor array."
Devereaux glances up at the bird, then ignores it.
A faint voice replies from the riftband, "Ah, that's a negative, boss. Primary sensors are nonfunctional. and, uh, so are the auxiliaries."
The bird flies into Devereax's ship.
A distant sound of thunder can just barely be heard, and an object streaks across the sky, leaving no contrail.
Devereaux starts to head in after the bird, but his attention is drawn by the airborne object........ X'Chakk lifepod??
Devereaux curses quietly but emphatically. "DREK." He sprints up the ramp to shoo the bird out of the ship and check all of his ordnance. He'll need it if even a single X'Chakk gets loose around here.
Devereaux says, "Bob, what WAS that thing?"
The bird is no place to be found, although it can be heard underneath some of the paneling, chittering away.
Bob replies haughtily, "Now how would -I- know? I told you sensors were off-line."
In a nearby confer, a dark cloaked figure laughs quietly, watching the ruckus.
Devereaux pops open a locker inside the airlock (sealing the lock first) and breaks out a Sungun, keeping it nearby as he tries to track down the bird and get it out of the ship.
Devereaux kneels by the panel the bird seems to have claimed, popping it loose from the substructure.
Devereaux says, "All right, Bob, bring up the security system and let me know if anything breaks the perimeter."
The bird, surprised by the sudden light, skitters deeper into the wire-crammed crevices of the ship.
"A-ffirmative, boss."
Devereaux curses again and gives up, this ship isn't going anywhere, the bird can do what it wants.
Deep inside the ship, the small colorful bird pulls at a few random wires. What wonderful nesting material!
After getting lost a couple of times (navigation has never been her races strongest point), Andromeda finally finds the crashed object, and lands a few hundred feet from it, and starts scouting around.
Michael, atop the nearby hill, sits and waves to Andromeda.
Devereaux slings the rifle-like Sungun and trudges to his quarters, beginning to sort and gather his few possessions. He grumbles caustically when he finds that the crash sent his guitar on a short, splintery trip to the decking.
Andromeda blinks and pads quietly over, "What is this thing? More invaders?"
Michael says, "It is curious...It looked like an invader inside...But there was a person inside the invader."
Devereaux gathers the P-crystals holding his favorite music, and stows them with his emergency kit.
Michael points to the furrow. "It fell here from the big explosion."
The felitauress folds her wings and nods, "Yes, we're not sure if it was from the ship that exploded a bit ago, or one of the attackers."
Michael stretches out. "The person inside doesn't look hospital."
Andromeda frowns, "How so? Does he have weapons? What does he look like?"
Devereaux stows his supplies and gear in a small black bag (those things are timeless) and secures it to a hip. Setting the few intact ship's systems to standby, he heads for the hatch again.
Michael says, "When he's not in his armor, he looks kind of like me. You know, hospital: dangerous and angry and violent."
Andromeda wrinkles her muzzle, "A human? Odd."
*Chirp! Chirp!* *ZAP*
Michael says, "He has a fruit warning on, too."
*HUMMMMMM-whirrrrrr* The hatch cycles and Devereaux steps onto the head of the ramp, Sungun slung over one shoulder. He runs a hand over his hair and sweeps the forest with his gaze, then looks skyward. It's going to be a long night. He closes his eyes and turns inward to his 'Zone', tuning background distractions out as he extends his Sense to cover the immediate area, passively scanning for active sentient thought processes.
Michael watches, his head cocked, and replies distractedly, "But I'm not sure what a perimeter tastes like."
Andromeda listens quietly, waiting to see what this stranger will do.
Devereaux opens his eyes as his scan comes up negative. Sighing to himself, he begins setting up the emergency distress beacon.
Devereaux has a seat against a portion of the ship's hull, and starts in on a serious brainstorming session. He has to find an answer to the pressing question, "NOW what the frag am i gonna do??"
Andromeda snugs close against Michael and listens with her ears forward, trying to make out the language.
Devereaux says, "Bob. Get to work bringing sensors and communications back online. We need to find out where we are, and what's around us."
Michael idly scritches Andromeda's ears and watches, trying to make out what he's saying.
Bob responds, "Already on it, boss. I'm going to have to cannibalize, but I think I can handle it."
Michael says, "Cannonball size?"
Devereaux nods silently, and plucks a blade of grass, chewing on it thoughtfully and staring at nothing in particular.
Andromeda blinks at Michael, "Weird. He's talking to himself. He must have taken quite a blow. I think I need to approach. You want to watch my backside?"
Michael says, "No, no, there's someone else in the...cart. He's called Bob. Listen."
Michael stand and nods. "Be careful."
Andromeda nods and pads forward quietly, trying to get a closer look first.
Devereaux, more than a little low on patience after all of this, abruptly stands. "I'm taking a walk, Bob. Put perimeter sensors on highgain and hold down the fort. I'll be back after a circuit of this hill."
Bob replies, "Copy that, fearless leader. Don't get eaten."
Devereaux snorts and shoulders his Sungun. "I Don't plan on it." He begins walking away from the ship, along the tree line.
The felitauress is padding closer as quietly as she can, trying to get a look at the crash survivor.
Michael watches both closely.
Devereaux is strolling along with deceptive unconcern. He watches his surroundings alertly, allowing himself to appreciate the beauty of the terrain and relying on his Sense to alert him to any threats.
Devereaux begins whistling quietly
Devereaux begins whistling quietly to himself as he strolls.
Andromeda gets impatient with all this skulking and calls out from behind the human, "Hello. Are you all right?" She uses the galactic trade dialect, hoping that will work.
Devereaux stops dead in his tracks. His Sense didn't scream at him, so there is no threat... yet. He turns slowly in place to face whatever just addressed him in an alien tongue.
Upon turning, he sees a nearly horse sized feline centaur with wings. She's very obviously mammalian from her torso, and she's covered in thick fur in a pattern similar to a snow leopards. She rustles the wings that lay along her back and waves, smiling.
Devereaux eyes widen only slightly... he's seen some downright WEIRD aliens. Contemplating her evolution might make his brain hurt, but she's positively his sister compared to a X'Chakk. He lifts his arms, palms raised placatingly, and responds in English, "I, ah, come in peace..."
Devereaux watches the local carefully, extending his Sense to brush the surface of her mind and grasp the sense behind her response.
Andromeda frowns. The translator isn't handling that overly well. She hmms and tries to rephrase, "Are you hurt?"
Devereaux ahs to himself and replies, "No," shaking his head in the slim hope that the gesture will be recognized.
Devereaux thinks to himself, "First Contact, lovely, I shoulda joined the Diplomatic Corps."
Andromeda hmms, "Michael seemed to understand you. My brother is the supposed diplomat, why was "I" sent here?"
Michael traces patterns in the air, and as the glowing traceries fade, his ears become abnormally large and feline.
Devereaux narrows his eyes slightly, grasping the basic meaning behind her sentences but not seeing how they apply to this situation. "Michael? Great, that's a name i know. Who is your brother? Why WERE you sent?"
One of the "gems" on Andromeda's armband light up, and she turns to answer it before she realizes that he's starting to pick up the language already?
Devereaux could attempt mind-to-mind contact, but decides to play his cards close to his chest and let as little as possible slip about himself.
Devereaux's gaze flicks to the armband thoughtfully.
Andromeda purrs, "Well, when that larger ship blew up, we tracked yours as it crashed. We've dealt with some hostile invaders recently, and wanted to make sure you weren't part of that. I was sent cause I was free this afternoon."
Devereaux ahs and nods, understanding now. "Sorry to hear about your invaders. That larger ship had captured me. I'm an explorer."
Devereaux grins slightly, smoothly slipping into BS mode. "The name's Devereaux. I'm a pilot for the FarRim Explorer Corps. And we have the X'Chakk to thank for my being here."
Michael's abnormally large ears twitch as he listens in from the hilltop.
Andromeda hmms, "Never heard of either of those. Considering how odd space is here, you could be a LONG way from home. Would you like me to have a shuttle come by to salvage your craft?"
Devereaux says, "Speaking of which, something flew overhead shortly after my crash. Was that your craft? I'd hate to think what would happen if you got a X'Chakk nest established on your planet."
Devereaux frowns slightly. "Ummm... what do you mean by salvage?"
Andromeda blinks, "Oh, that was me. I had troubles finding the crash site. Well, it's up to you. We can always use the metals if you want that. Or we can store it if you want to eventually repair it. And I'm not from this planet."
Andromeda wonders what Michael is up to, but keeps her attention on this stranger, especially when she notices what looks like an energy weapon of some sort on his back.
Devereaux oh's, and nods. "Well, if you can provide a storage space, I can get to work doing something with it. So you're not from around here? Where is 'here', then?"
Andromeda purrs, "This is the planet Nexus. Or at least, the colonists here call it that. Well, it will be a while before we can have it stored, and I need to report back for my shift in a couple hours."
Devereaux says, "Right, your shift. I'll stay with my ship, I think... and I need to find out exactly where i am and what's going on around here, since it looks like I'm stuck for the duration."
Devereaux continues smiling genially, but it doesn't touch his eyes, which watch Andromeda sharply.
Devereaux says, "So, ah, where can a fellow find out more about the local... state of affairs?"
Michael scratches his chin, peering intently at the two below, shaing his head slightly.
Andromeda frowns, an action that might not be noticeable to someone now used to dealing with felinoids. Something about this human doesn't 'feel' right. She hmms, "Well, you are quite a ways from anywhere. Haven would be a couple of weeks walk from here, and that's the only thing approaching a city anywhere near you. Oh, they really frown on 'spacers', especially ones carrying obvious weapons."
Devereaux hmms, frowning. "They don't like spacers? Trouble with the neighbors?" He nods skyward.
Andromeda sighs, "It's a long story. They are all bipeds, though not ..er..human. And they had been cut off for about a millennia. Let's say that they weren't entirely thrilled that the first spacers that find them again were so unique. That, and they tend to blame us for the invaders."
Devereaux pats his slung fusion rifle. "I'll find somewhere to put this. How long tell transport can be arranged for my ship?
Devereaux uh-huhs. "Sounds like a backslid civilization. You mentioned Michael, and humans, so you must know our kind around here."
Andromeda purrs, "Well, Michael is really the only human I've ever met. I learned the term from him for his race. And you kind of look like the same race. Let me see your ship, and I can tell you how quickly we can retrieve it to store it."
As she mentions her friends name, she resists the temptation to turn and check on Michael, figuring if he wants to be introduced, he'll do it himself.
Devereaux nods. "I'll have to meet this Michael, we need to talk. And the ship isn't hard to find. "he grins wryly and begins walking back towards it. "So... what are you?"
Michael's great ear twitches at the conversation, and on cue, begins to walk down the hill towards the two, and the craft.
Andromeda purrs, "I'm Andromeda Skygazer, of the Chirr'T'Thar."
Devereaux nods, and reflexively extends a hand. "Nate Devereaux, of the American Arm. It's good to find peaceable locals around here."
Michael arrives at the craft with the other two, apparently having forgotten the dinner-plate feline ears aside his head.
With a confused look on her muzzle, she looks at the outstretched hand and purrs, "Why is your arm called "American"?"
Devereaux says, "Ummm, no, it's the American Arm of colonized space. The stretch of planets claimed by the United Systems of America. It's just a national name, don't worry about it." He drops his hand a bit embarrassedly."
Devereaux mutters sotto voice, "Bob, stand down."
Devereaux turns to face Michael, and misses a step. He quickly recovers his aplomb.
Andromeda notes the reaction, then turns to look and breaks out giggling at Michael, "I love the ears. ;)"
Devereaux nods. "A little, ah, genetic anomaly there?"
Michael blinks for a moment, and with comprehension, his face colors. With a wave of his hand, the ears shrink to more typical size and shape.
Michael says, "Er, sorry."
Devereaux's mouth quirks slightly, and he notes mentally, "Shape-alteration. possible Psychometab. Watch this one."
Devereaux nods faintly. "Ah, no problem."
Andromeda smirks, "Michael, this is Devereaux. And Devereaux, this is my friend Michael. Now, let's check out your ship, can you show me what's been damaged the most?
Michael smiles toothily at Devereaux. "Japai, janos'to Deeveroh."
Devereaux raises an eyebrow slightly, but nods to Michael. "Ah, pleased to meet you too. Sorry, I don't copy the dialect."
Devereaux turns and gestures at the ship with an arm. "It'd be quicker to survey what is damaged least."
Michael peers at Devereaux for a moment. "Oh. It is nice to meet you. Where is Bob?" He peers into the ship.
Devereaux's eyes do widen a bit at that and he says warily. "Bob?"
Devereaux narrows his eyes. "Who is Bob?"
Andromeda blanches as she looks over the ship, or what she is almost willing to believe used to be a ship. Finally she purrs, "Well, ah, about your ship."
Michael looks at Devereaux. "Bob...in there!" He points to the open hatch and shouts into the ship. "Hello, Bob!"
Devereaux mutters to himself, "Cripes..."
Devereaux says, "Bob, say hi to our new friend."
Devereaux turns away slightly and lifts his wristband to his lips for just a second. "Bob, execute contingency 'Royal Flush'."
Devereaux turns the movement into a wiping of his lips with the back of his hand.
Michael glances at Devereaux and takes a step back, away from the ship.
The young felitauress is thrashing her tail as she looks at the wreckage, "I'm amazed you're not injured. Actually, I'm amazed you're alive. Humans must be tougher than I thought."
Bob's cheerful voice replies from the ship, "Affirmative, Cap'n. Hello, Michael, it's a pleasure to meetcha."
Michael blinks. "Can you come outside?"
Devereaux nods to Andromeda, grinning slightly. "We build 'em tough." Whether he means the ship, or humans, is open to interpretation.
Bob says with a faint chuckle, "I -am- outside, Michael."
Michael looks around the craft.
Devereaux holds up his wrist. The wristband speaks. "I'd wave if I had hands."
Devereaux says, "Meet Bob."
Andromeda blinks at the voice, "A computer with a voice interface?" then nods, "Well, I have to say, your ship is really beyond the "salvage" point. It would be easier to build a new one."
Devereaux nods, and pats his wrist. "WristComp AI. Bob's my second-in-command."
Devereaux says, "Hey, Michael...?"
Andromeda's whiskers quiver, "I've run into "AI" machines before. Most are not very realistic. So, do you want us to cart your ship for scrap, or are there items you'd like salvaged from inside?"
Michael looks at the wristband. The he smiles. "So THAT'S what they do! Ach'ni lat!"
Devereaux says, "How did you know about Bob?"
Michael says, "I heard you talking to him."
Michael peers intently at the little band.
Andromeda nods and flicks her ears, "We were listening to you before I came down."
Devereaux watches Michael intently, but says to Andromeda, "Hmmm.... just my personal effects. You can recycle the rest, she's no use to me anymore..."
Devereaux pats the flank of the ship a bit wistfully.
Michael looks at Devereaux intently. "What does a perimeter taste like?"
Devereaux says, "Ah, a little recon never hurts, does it. So where did you land?"
Devereaux says, "Perimeter? Tastes pretty harsh if you cross and activate the sentry guns."
Devereaux says, "A perimeter is a boundary."
The felitauress, an engineer at heart, nods and sighs, "It looks like it was really a nice ship once. Huh? Oh, I landed up on top of that hill." as she points to an obviously empty clearing up above.
Michael blinks, uncomprehendingly. "A boundary? Oh, yes, that would make more sense. Not smart to have a fruit alarm."
Devereaux chuckles. "Don't have any fruits to defend."
Devereaux frowns slightly. "She -was- a wonderful ship, my 'Hammer To Fall'. Uhhh... where's your aircraft? Stealthed?"
Michael giggles slightly.
Andromeda blinks and then shifts her wings and grins. ;)
Michael distracts himself by brushing some dust off his black silk robes.
Devereaux says, "No way."
Devereaux says, "That thing was supersonic."
Michael says, "This time she was healthy, at least."
Michael smiles and elbows Andromeda.
Michael picks a piece of wreckage up off the ground.
Devereaux hmms and nods, eyeing Andromeda thoughtfully, and filing away another interesting piece of intelligence.
Andromeda nods, "I'm back up to full health now. And yes, that was me. The race that designed us kind of overdid it."
Devereaux's eyebrows rise. "Designed?"
Devereaux says, "You're a Gengineered species. THAT explains everything."
The ship warbles merrily.
Michael looks up at the ship and smiles, then goes back to examining the metal shard.
Andromeda frowns obviously this time and nods, "Not something we're thrilled about, but it happened long ago. With any luck, our 'creators' have been dead for several hundred millennia. So, you want to get your personal effects? We'll be happy to compensate you for the raw materials we recover."
It's fairly obvious she wants to change the subject.
Devereaux says, "Hmmm, sounds like you've been around a while. Must have quite piece of interstellar real estate staked out by now."
The colorful bird flies out, cheeping at Andromeda as it heads into the forest.
Devereaux says, "THERE it is."
Devereaux watches the bird go, relieved for some reason.
Devereaux says, "Yeah, let me grab my... stuff."
Andromeda shrugs, "We're spread out quite a bit. Never been all that many of us. I need to know what you're deciding soon. If I'm late for my work, I get off work late. And I was going to see about trying to set up a mating group this evening. Or at least, see if any females want to join."
Devereaux heads for the ramp and climbs back into the ship. Once inside, he murmurs, "Bob, pipe anything they say directly to me.
Andromeda chuckles at Michael, "So, I rather liked the ears. Shame you had to change them back. What do you think of our "friend"?
Michael whispers to Andromeda in Chirr'T'Thar, "Be careful of this man," and gives her a cautionary look.
Devereaux bustles about, grabbing a few more small items and, most importantly, loading the last of the ship's personal ordnance into a plain black case.
Michael looks over the ship, and the parts strewn on the ground.
Andromeda nods, and then says in the trade dialect, "He does seem a little odd, but he just crashed rather hard. It's understandable."
Devereaux frowns slightly... he doesn't understand the language, but the wariness of Michael's surface thoughts is clear enough. Well, no one accused these people of being stupid, he'd feel the same way in their place.
She then softly growls in her native tongue, "I agree. He doesn't 'feel' right to me. Hiding a lot. And his bearing is very serious. We shall be careful."
Devereaux comes back down the ramp, with a backpack, a guitar case, and a plain black suitcase-style container.
Devereaux says, "All right, I'm ready to move out, don't want you to be late. Ah... what was that about a mating group?"
Michael looks at Andromeda, his face becoming aware that she apparently does not know what he has gathered. Again, in Chirr, "Did you not hear? He is from the fake-story-caste?" He stays quiet and smiles as he comes back.
Andromeda looks at the ship thoughtfully, "Is there anything else, or is that it? If so, I'll call a shuttle to pick up your ship tomorrow. Oh, I'm of age, and with our current losses, it's time for me to find two other females and go hunt down some lucky male. ;)" She nods to Michael, somewhat familiar with the concept of spies from dealing with other races.
Devereaux says, "Ah... lucky male."
Devereaux grins at that.
Michael snortsmiles at Andromeda.
Devereaux says, "No, that's it, you can call the shuttle in anytime."
Devereaux says, "Interesting mating behavior... one could envy the male you find."
Andromeda grins, "Well, you can keep them happy by letting them think they're in charge. Sounds fine. I can give you a ride to Haven, or you can wait here, but it will be a day before we have a shuttle free."
Devereaux says, "Tell me more about Haven?"
Devereaux says, "I need to figure out where to go from here. I'd -really- like to get home."
Michael hmms.
Devereaux says, "A ride... ah, is that, well, proper?"
Michael ducks under the broken wing of the craft.
Andromeda hmms, "Well, a few other races have started to do limited business in Haven. It is a fairly primitive town, but nice all in all. The only humans I have ever seen have been Michael and you. We are still in the process of getting detailed maps of this galaxy, but I have never heard of this "America" before. Oh, well, normally just with friends. Close contact tends to be fairly intimate with us, but there are some nasty animals around, so I guess it'd be ok. I promise to keep it at safe speeds for you."
Devereaux ruthlessly squashes down the part of his hindbrain that keeps reminding him of the Chirr'T'Thar humanoid torso. If -ever- there was a wrong time and place...
Devereaux nods. "Well, I'll be a perfect gentleman. Haven probably isn't so bad, I've had to survive on some literal backwater mudballs before."
Michael rummages around on the ground.
Andromeda hmms at Michael, "I can give you a ride too, but you rarely seem to need one?"
Devereaux keeps a tight lid on the fact that he COULD get to Haven quite easily and quickly on his own... he wants to keep as much about him a secret as he can, and this Andromeda is full of all sorts of useful information.
Michael climbs out from under the wing with what appears to be some kind of circuitboard. He looks up from it at Andromeda. "Mmm? A ride? No thank you, not today."
Andromeda nods, noting how Devereaux is raptly listening to anything she has to say. She wonders what her brother is thinking of this conversation, seeing that he turned on the communicator early on, luckily the glow on her armband didn't give that away. She holds out a hand, "Well, I need to get going, so lets get you settled."
Michael peers intently at the board.
Devereaux nods. "Right, I'm ready. Ah, how exactly do I...?"
Andromeda chuckles, "You sit across my lower back, in front of my wings. Let me give you a hand up." as she indicates the part of her 'taur back just behind her torso.
Devereaux nods, and steps forward slightly, starting to blush a bit.
Michael leans against the ship to watch.
Andromeda reaches around and hoists the human onto her back very easily, then her prehensile tail coils around him to hold him in place. She purrs, "Take care Michael. Well, hold on, we need to get going."
Michael says, "Goodbye!"
Devereaux whews. "My, oh my. Interesting flight mode..."
Devereaux says, "Take care, Michael!"
The felitauress sits back on her haunches, then leaps into the air and her wings snap wide open and beat the air faster and faster, till they blur when you try to look at them. She's going at a slow clip, about 50 to 60 MPH to keep her passenger safe.
Michael waits until they're gone from sight, then ducks into the ship.
Devereaux slowly acquires a broad grin, having always been a real flight lover. He settles back to enjoy the ride.