#bowden

------------ "Five cycles at nearly full speed. Their engines should be near capacity at that point. That model's only build for short bursts, not extended run." The helmsman declared back toward the captain. "Should we close in Sir?" "Not yet, if they're still willing to run at that speed, they aren't finished yet. Fall back, let them catch their breath for a bit. We have time yet, and they're running out of it. When was their last stop?" "Three docyces ago. They stopped at the Balda'roon station, we picked up pursuit within ten cycles." "Not enough time for a resupply and repair, but enough for a refuel then." "Yes Sir. Confirmed with the Dock Supervisor they fully fueled, but couldn't complete repairs." "That's fine. Where's the nearest gate." "At current speed, they'll be within the Agralex gate in another…" He trailed off briefly, tapping something into the display. "Eight cycles. If their engines are modified." "It's The Bowden, Helmsman Jakar. That ship is modified." Captain Hasser stated matter-of-factly. "Drop back, give them some space, and alert the crew to rest up. We'll pick back up in three cycles." "They'll be able to put a fair distance between us at that timing, Sir." "It's fine. This is a marathon, not a sprint." The Helmsman looked confused at the phrase. "It's an old saying from Terra." Hasser explained. "It means we're built for endurance."

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"They've dropped back again." Fakeer announced from her display. "Falling back… I think they've stopped." "Don't buy into it. Keep going. Put as much distance between us as possible. How far away is Agralax?" "Eight more cycles, Captain." She warbled. "We can't gate in this condition, we'd arrive at the other side with no engines at all!" Tyran's form lost it's composure and for a moment looked as though they would simply turn into a multi-hued puddle. "Easy… easy. I know that. But there's a repair base three cycles toward Havalik from there. If we get enough distance, we can  stop there and try to get some of these repairs done." Tyran quivered in place, then made an affirmative gesture. "Understood." They slid back to Engineering. Fakeer focused on her console. "Captain…" She kept her shoulders squared, watching the indicator of their pursuing ship get further away. "Who, exactly, is chasing us and why?" "I wish I knew. Could be anyone from any number of systems." His purple and indigo plates shifted into what was almost a prideful expression, if it hadn't been so weary. "It happens when you're a notorious band of pirates." "We aren't pirates, sir." Fakeer tried to smile, but exhaustion had robbed her of the genuine ability. "We're Outlaws…? Well we're not pirates." Bowden chuckled, an odd sort of sound from the man. "I believe that means I'm right, Fakeer." He jested. His tone softened. "Just hold on a bit longer. We'll get some rest as soon as we can." "I wish I could believe that, Captain."

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"It's not even a military ship! It has no military or mercenary insignia! Captain WHO DID YOU PISS OFF?!" Kitani's voice turned upwardly shrill in her frustration, the vibrant comb of feathers along the back of her head flared in agitation. "It's huge, it's fast, it's expensive and it hasn't stopped chasing us for a decta! A DECTA CAPTAIN!" Again her voice went just this side of shrill, making Bowden's mandibles twitch in a grimace. "Hell if I know, Kitani. If I knew, I'd be more willing to stop, let them catch up, and talk to them. But It seems ill-advised when you can't find anything out about it and you can't stop long enough to figure it out. "And easy on the tone, Kit." He tried to laugh it off, but even he was feeling the effects of the constant pursuit by now. The feathered helms made a disgruntled noise in her throat and turned back to her console, ruffled. "Fakeer's course is still the best, engines are still too hot to do… well pretty much anything. And Tyran says if we don't cool them down we'll lose them anyway, even with the modifications. They sounded pretty mad too." Bowden picked at a loose bit of chiton at his jaw idly and flicked it away. "Yeah, they usually are. We're what? A cycle away from the base?""We're a cycle away from Agrilax Gate." "And our friends?" "Not on screen, but our long-range is still out, so they could be anywhere as far as we'd know. We're all but blind." "That's fine. Keep heading toward Havalik, straight on, you'll know the base when you see it." "If you say so…"

He's been awake for far, far too many cycles. Everyone had been on high alert since they noticed their tail two systems ago. Bowden himself had been awake at -least- three docyce. And if he slept at all it hadn't been more than three or four cycles at best. Fakeer had brought up that his decision making skills may be in question. She knew the Agralax system, even Kitani knew it fairly well. And there was no base they knew of anywhere even close to where Bowden was directing them. Flying blind with no long range communication or sensors, engines running so hot they were ready to melt, a powder keg of exhausted shipmates from across a dozen planetary systems being led by a captain who hadn't slept… Kitani and Fakeer were worried about a mutiny. Or worse.

"Bring up a sensor reading?" Bowden's voice sounded haggard, the tones shifting between irritation and something Kitani couldn't quite identify. "Sure…" She obliged, showing a display screen of the system, the rings of Agrilax visible only barely, while the giant, distant form of Havalik loomed, encircled by it's moons and trapped objects. Agrilax might host the most life in the system, but Havalik was much  more impressive. "Perfect. Send a distress signal, pulse it twice." Kitani looked at him in confusion, the man's eyes were focused on the display, but there was a hard-to-pin emotion in his body language. Anxiety? Anticipation? Desperation? Worry. Kitani opened the short range communication relay and sent out two quick distress signals. The air on the Pilot's deck was thick. Kitani realized it only when her chest hurt that she'd held her breath, mimicking the large Captain who's eyes were locked on the visual display.

"There!" His smaller, secondary arms thrust forward, as if he could grasp at the display itself, his large hands locked tightly on the back of Kitani's console seat. "Thank fuck." She didn't see anything at first, just the massive gas giant and it's numerous moons. But as if breaking away from the flock, one of the smaller objects seemed to be moving away from the field of moons and asteroids. "Thank fuck…" The captain breathed out a long, low held breath. "They're still there. Had me worried for a minute." "Cap… tain?" Kitani couldn't quite believe it. But sure enough, a massive colony-sized station had hidden itself among the gas giant's orbiting children and it seemed to be responding to the distress signal. "Signal them again, then head for that station, Kitani. I've got good news for the crew." She quickly signaled the distress call twice more, and watched as the response flew out of the base in the form of a dozen small tow ships. Bowden grabbed the ship's all alert. Putting on his Captain face and voice, despite looking so haggard. "Congrats everyone. We're home for a while. We're ten cycles ahead of our new friends and about to hit up an old friend. Aqua, report to the top deck. Everyone else, breathe a bit, and stand down. We're getting a tow in. Tyran, get a list of everything you need. Everyone else, be ready to disembark in… one and a half cycles." With the message sent, inner ship comms lit up as crew started talking almost all at once. Bowden collapsed back into his console with an exhausted sigh. "That would have been embarrassing if they'd been collected." "Captain… where exactly are we?"

---------------- It was populated with thousands and thousands of robots. Repair robots, scrapped together droids, cleaner bots, welding robos, builders, every type one could imagine. Even massive mining robotics on sledges, and all of it looked like it was pieced together by children. An artificial colony of artificial lifeforms from around the galaxy. Outmodes, scrap, thrown away, and any other form of abused mechanical life form, all joined together in a base where they could exist on their own. When the ship docked they were greeted by an unskinned escort droid. Her shiny metal exterior, while patched in places, was well taken care of. It was the same for almost every occupant the crew passed. "Welcome to Bow's Den. I'm Tomi." Aqua spun on the purple captain. "-Really- Bowden?" He shrugged innocently. "In my defense, I didn't name it." "I did." Claimed the bot, matter-of-factly. "I thought it was clever." All four of Bowden's arms pointed toward the shiny former escort droid. "See? I'm innocent." Without missing a beat she responded. "That's untrue. But welcome to the Den all the same. Now, what have you done to the ship, Bowden?" "He's been running her ragged!" Tyran's multi-coloured amorphous form wiggled out of the ship and right toward the shiny robot. Shifting their shape around until they solidified four legs to walk on and a torso to hold the portable display out. "We've been running at nearly full speed for a hundred cycles and she needs to rest" "It hasn't been a hundred cycles." Bowden huffed under his breath. "…yet." Tyran ignored him, and was escorted away by Tomi, ranting about how abused the ship was by 'the purple beast' while Tomi shot accusatory glances back at the four-armed captain.

He ignored them, looking over the mismatch of crew that had managed to file out of the ship. Raising his voice to be heard over the muddled din of twenty or so crewmembers, he addressed them. Though now he didn't bother to hide the tiredness in his voice, as it was written in every aspect of his hulking frame; that was, for once, free of the overlarge coat he usually wore. "Alright You!" The crew fell into respectful quiet, around them the mechanical sounds of bots crawling over, under, and around the bedraggled ship turned into background clanging. "We aren't that far ahead of our new friends. A few cycles of rest, recuperation, and repair is all we can afford right now. So, here's what we know. They are persistent. They have our ship flagged, and they aren't mercs, military, or merchants." He paused, then barked. "Fakeer." The short bark of her name grabbed the attention of the black and red half of the piloting team. She produced a light display, throwing up a visual scan of the offending ship while he continued. "It's high end; almost twice our size, and carries no identifying insignia on its hull. We couldn't get enough signal to decode its ID broadcast because the bastards focus targeted our long-range array after we pegged them for tailing us. At least two of the crew are Terran or at least of Terran-descent… Aqua caught an image of them just after they made her at the refueling station." The image of the ship was replaced with an eyeframe shot of a male and female dressed in sleek official-looking uniforms. "For once in my life, I have no fucking clue who these people are. The ship's unknown, and while I've done a -whole- lot of things worthy of being chased across five systems without pause; I usually remember the people I did it to. Which means…" His weary eyes traveled over the beleaguered cast of his crew. "This particular skeleton has escaped from one of your closets. Start thinking back and figure out who you pissed off in your past lives. Because we're done running. Literally. We can't run anymore. We have maybe twelve cycles before they catch up to us and that's only if they make a wrong turn at Agrilax and head for Vermi instead of Havalik. Which I doubt they're gonna do." Exhaustion settled over his shoulders, dropping his head and making the powerful captain look his not unimpressive age. It was a surprising show of weakness that most of the crew had never seen. Aqua stepped up to his side, taking his large hand in her own supportingly as a good second should. "Look, no one's on this crew and in this ship because we're Lilly white and Simon pure. If any of you recognize these assholes, speak up. If not to me, tell Aqua. I don't care what or who it was; I don't care when or what you did. But I need to know what I'm up against, so we can stand shoulder to shoulder and either run to the edge of the galaxy or start pulling arms out of sockets. And I'm fucking tired," He waved a hand over the crew as a whole. "…we all are." Faces turned toward faces, each crewmember looking from one to the other for a hint of recognition among them. No one spoke up, but a silent agreement fell between them all that the situation was bad. "Now that we're all aware of how sufficiently fucked we are. Go stretch your legs and figure out who the fuck is on our ass. Ask the bots for directions." He grumbled lowly. "I'm gonna go hit the damn spa." The lumbering form of the captain turned and picked his way past clamours of bots, followed by Aqua until he waved her off, leaving her to return to the crew.

A small compliment of robots approached, offering to lead the way to the barracks so the crew could rest and talk. Several voices speculated with one another over who they may have angered. And before long a betting pool opened up on who's fault it was. Despite the grumbling between them, an unspoken solidarity remained. The crew of the Thomas Bowden was a family. Like siblings in a nest, they could fight each other. And now and then had damn near killed one another in various fights over various reasons. If they wanted to kick the ass of a deserving crewmate? They'd do so. But some stranger threatening their beloved sibling? Twenty plus crewmates from a dozen planetary systems and a four-armed Gaarth captain would be happy to show them the nearest supernova.

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Sure enough, tacking on some speed caught the trailing ship to the planetary gate. Cassian Hassen eyed the display. "So… Havalik or Vermi?" "Sir?" "Do you think they aimed for Havalik? Or perhaps Vermi?" "The Havalik orbital cloud is closer right now. Vermi's currently in it's elliptical peak on the other side of the system." The helmsman offered. "Head for the gas giant then." "Sir, why did you let them get such a long head start? Isn't there a chance they'll have repaired their ship by now?" "Undoubtedly. I'm counting on their long range communications array to be functional by now. But I don't care if they have the best mechanics this side of the spiral, their engine damage won't be repaired." "Sir?" "If I'm right, what we want will be waiting for us. Send a communication to the Bowden as soon as we're in range of her long range array. If I'm right, you'll get an affirmative as soon as you send it." "Yes Sir." Jakar remained confused, but trusted the Captain's orders. It was his ship after all. And he'd been right about everything up to now.