The elegant Mordesh tossed and turned in bed, sighing in frustration. Her head turned to the sleeping form next to her, and she slowly moved herself out of bed, passing through the red veil curtains, a hand tugging on her pointed ear anxiously. The gentle hum of a starship was a distraction for a Mordesh, very few embarked from their homeworld. True exploration was in the mind, as the saying went. Only the smallest of parties sortied into the wild unknown to catalogue scientific phenomena and diplomatic envoys. Though the latter had been becoming more common over the past ten years as the Mordesh prepared to join the Dominion. Mordesh has never been strong in the mechanical sciences, so making sure that Grismara was sufficiently integrated for the Galactic economy was the only real hurdle to membership. It certainly hadn't hurt that Mordesh art and literature was becoming something of a fad among the Cassian nobility during this period of exchange.

Which is where the emissary, Moana, found herself now. A unique topic of conversation among the soldiers stationed on the Winged Justice. She had jumped at the chance to join an old professor, Doctor Landrek, on an envoy to Cassus. Herself and some dozen others would be part of a goodwill mission as the final stages of the "mentoring" period for the Mordesh came to a close. Specifically, an exotic art show of sorts. Moana herself was a musician. An odd choice of career path, but as the artistically inclined of the Mordesh were happy to point out, aesthetics were merely the mathematics of the mind. As she stared out the window of the quarters, where the emblems of the Dominion were painted onto the hull, she still felt an apprehension, but excitement. Easier, of course, when the elegant Mordesh towered over the Cassians aboard their ship.

So lost in her own thoughts that she hadn't even sensed the movement behind her until the delicate, pale pink arms were encircling her waist and breasts, and pleasant purr coming from behind, a head nuzzling into Moana's long, black hair, "Hnnn...can't sleep?" the gentle voice asked with a casual hint of concern.

Moana's elegant hands placed themselves on the Cassian's, turning to catch a glimpse of her, but only seeing her full mane of blonde hair. "I am sorry," she whispered, "I did not mean to wake you."

Moana could practically hear the sarcastic smile spread on the Cassian's lips, "Oh, now you regret keeping me awake? Where was this earlier tonight?"

"I was under the impression you had a duty shift soon, Lieutenant?"

"True," she mused, "but I will always have a career. You're only here for two weeks. We should make the most of it." She pressed her face to the Mordesh's slender back, inhaling the scent in her hair, "Three months isn't long enough for a tour. Next time make it a year."

"Three? But I've been here almost six months," Moana joked, voice slightly teasing the Cassian.

"Well yes," she replied, "but three months since...this started," she gave the Mordesh a reassuring squeeze.

Moana nodded, "Well, maybe if the Lieutenant wasn't so meek about it. Rather a shy impression you give," the rather melodic rolling voice of the Mordesh playfully leading her on, "My shy little Cassian, who knew?"

The blonde woman chuckled, grabbing Moana's wrists and tugging her back towards the red-curtained bed, "Lylac," she said, reminding the much taller woman of her name. Then, to her question, "Officer's privilege. I have to deal with the Chua, anyway. Understanding them is an uncommon circle of Hell," she sat on the edge of the mattress, her arms swinging up around the Mordesh's neck, who had turned to face her by now, and pulled her down on top of her as she threw herself back on the bed, "I much prefer understanding what makes you tick," she said with a sultry purr and leaned up, biting the Mordesh's ear gently and tugging it with a warm sigh.

Moana's eyes closed, a small smile passing over her lips, "Engineers…" she lamented, acquiescing to the Cassian's invitation and climbing on top of her, staring into her eyes. Lylac's dark lips mouthed words, but they were drowned out by a loud hissing noise.

Moana's eyes snapped open as a vent was spraying out compressed oxygen a few feet away. "Shit!" she scrambled forward, pulling out a laser torch and looking around frantically, finding a piece of the air conditioning duct and burning off a small segment, holding it in her undead hands and she pressed it against the leak, bitter cold soon overpowering the heat of the cut as she welded the makeshift patch onto the leaking O2 pipe, soddering in bursts so that the heat wouldn't ignite the oxygen. Even the laser torch was a risky business around the O2 pipe. Lifting her hand, she noticed it was both burned and frostbitten at various places. She'd need to make a trip to medbay. Taking a glance at where she'd burned out the AC duct, she groaned. Scrap metal and duct tape would do. But that meant a hunt in the Granok section for empty beer cans.

Moana volunteered to be emergency response in the "subway", the vast access corridors in the underbelly of the Gambler's Ruin. It was a job Mordesh were keenly fit for. Little things like hull breaches weren't much of a concern to them, beyond danger of spacing. But keeping your harness on ensured safety. The lack of air was only uncomfortable for the nigh-immortal Mordesh. So being on hand in the aging derelict to constantly survey for maintenance where faulty sensors had long since stopped reporting with any reliable track record, the subways were not where mechanics really wanted to go. Not before power could be shut off, and without the proper equipment (what passed for "proper equipment" on an Exile ark ship).

But the solitude was what Moana enjoyed. It would be days, maybe even weeks, without running into another subway rat. And not really needing the comfort of a bed or sleeping bag, she could simply sleep away in the subways when she needed to rest her mind.

But now a trip was necessary. She tried to slink by the least traveled decks on the Gambler's Ruin. But after 300 years of inbreeding in a space that remained the same size as it had at the their rebellion, and the recent arrival of Aurin refugees, there weren't any solitary decks left. So Moana forced herself to walk amongst the crowds.
Sneering was expected. Mordesh were the odd man out among their allies. And though the Contagion was perfectly harmless to them in its controlled state under the Vitalus, the fact Moana was almost infamous for being the Mordesh that barely covered up caused a wide gap to appear in any crowd she traveled through. Though the Aurin, not having been around long enough to see a Mordesh fall to the madness of the Contagion, seemed mostly curious about the rather obvious Mordesh amongst the race of recluses.

But had they watched her for more than two minutes, they could count the number of times that her eyes constantly glanced over her half-naked body, eyeing the mechanical vials that held her Vitalus. Not pride, or exhibition, but paranoia, her own fingers rubbing over the crystal tubes pathologically to make sure they were still connected to her body. She had tried to wear more "conservative" clothing, many years ago, some years after the evacuation. But that had just meant her opening her collar to peek at her tubing every five minutes. Her Human supervisor at the time, an old scrappy mechanic she could only remember as "Scruffy", rubbed his forehead after three days of this and told her to "go back to being naked".

Entering the med bay, she quietly nodded to the orderly on shift and sat down at one of the examination tables. It wasn't exactly orderly, you just waited for the doctors to get to you and if you weren't screaming in pain you probably weren't a triage priority. Though one of the medbots came around and quickly scanned her injury, uploading the data to the central computer so the staff could sort their priorities in a somewhat less chaotic fashion. She took to staring at the swirls and bubbles in her Vitalus as a diversion, one that kept her quite enthralled in her own thoughts until a slight cough roused her from her trance.

An old acquaintance of hers, Dmitri Egola, came up to her. He was familiar enough, even if his jaw was now reinforced with biotic pieces, along with much of the rest of him. Of all Contagion sufferers, he had fared particularly poorly. Turning the scorched hand over several times, "You managed to damage yourself quite handily this time," he said, though through the voice synthesizer it was hard to determine if his pun was intended to be a joke.

"Just fix it," Moana quietly murmured, eyes averting from the personal contact and focusing on the door.

He wordlessly drew out a small actuator and ran it over the treatment area. After a minute of this in silence, where Moana had refused to make eye contact with him, he offered a suggestion, "You know, the Aurin are to be holding a concert of some kind in the near future. I'm not sure what Aurin music or poetry is like, but, they insist a show of success, yet regret is necessary for morale. Perhaps you would like-"

"No," came the bitterly cold reply.

The medic sighed, "You cannot stay trapped in those access shafts for all eternity. Even for one of us, you're an amazingly antisocial associate." Not receiving a response, he went on, "We don't know how long we will forced to fraternize with the fleet. Making friends wouldn't hurt, would it?"

"Why?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "They will all end before us, anyway."

Dmitri paused for several moments, and settled on glancing down at the small actuator. He was about done, but he pretended that there was more work being done on the dermal regeneration, looking to the solemn, pale eyes of his old friend, "They're not Cassian, Moana," he declared quite assuredly.

This finally drew a reaction, though it was a bitter glare. She tugged her hand away, stepping up and started off on her own, "I feel fine, now. Thank you, doctor," she practically hissed on her way out.

"Moana Ainov!" the male Mordesh commanded, and the force of his exclamation seemed enough to get the dark haired woman to turn back his way, though with a condescending scowl. "I know you and I...we were not as well...acquainted, as I would have wanted, those ninety years ago," he stumbled, "But I know I saw you happier those few short months than I ever saw you. Before or behind," he sighed, "I can only imagine what kind of fall you suffered when you came from such a Heaven into...this," he indicated his own cybernetic body, "this Hell."

Moana shook her head, eyes narrowing as her ragged, now dreadlocked hair waved about her face, "That's the point, Dmitri," she scowled, though at this her eyes nervously averted from his face again, her voice sounding particularly tired, "Both paths would have led us to Hell."

Dmitri didn't try to stop her from leaving a second time.

"Moana?"

"Lyla!" the panicked cry was unintended as the Mordesh woman pressed towards her viewscreen, "Lyla I didn't know how to get through to you!"

In her panic, though, Moana had failed to notice the quite professional demeanor her lover was adopting through the screen, "Moana, is what they say true? Everyone infected?"

"Everyone," she held her forehead despondently, "Even if you hadn't taken Everlife, you needed to be injected to protect against the airborne Contagion. But that's only buying the late-bloomers a few months if the Ravenous don't kill us all first."

Lylac swallowed hard on the other side of the monitor, "So then...that means you…"

"Even me," Moana lamented. But she seemed to miss the significance, chatting into the monitor, "I've been struggling to keep everything going. I even remembered that thing you taught me about recursive circuits in the comm systems to keep this thing open! You'd be so proud of me!" she nervously chuckled, "I wasn't sure I'd see you again, I was so scared...you won't be in trouble talking to me?"

Lylac seemed to shuffle nervously, though her High Born demeanor let her mask most of the awkwardness, "Well, no one will worry that the Commander is having a private channel. But Grismara is awash in distress signals and chat comms...we stopped monitoring them all days ago."

Moana noticed the extra pips on Lylac's uniform, "You have a ship now!" she said excitedly, almost as if it were the old days and she was hearing the latest updates on her career.

Lylac reluctantly nodded, "I'm...I'm in command of a patrol ship now. The Eldan's Justice. Might get a full star cruiser in a few years," she mused, playing along with the nostalgic game for but a moment.

Moana smiled, but her mind circled back to her earlier words, " 'We…?' You mean...you're part of the blockade?"
Lylac didn't answer, turning her eyes away from the monitor.

"How long?"

It seemed like Lylac wouldn't answer again, eyes hiding behind her luminous blonde hair, but eventually, "Three weeks."

"Why didn't you…" Moana began, but couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence, let alone contemplate the thoughts behind it.

Lylac stiffened, assuming her military demeanor again, "The Emperor himself declared the blockade. I would have risked treason. He is just as much your Emperor as well, you know his will is for the benefit of the Dominion."
"Grismara hasn't officially joined the Dominion," Moana bitterly retorted.

"The Dominion maintains order," Lylac replied, though without the patriotic fervor her words probably deserved, it was more a circle of quiet acceptance, "and the plague is a threat to the entire galaxy."

Moana's voice rose in pitch, frantic for a way out, "What if I could get a ship? A shuttle, maybe! You could pick me up! We could be together!"

Lylac's dark eyes teared up, shaking her head 'no', but unable to let any words move past the lump in her throat. "If you leave the surface..." she swallowed hard, taking a deep breath, "If you leave the surface, you will be an enemy of the Dominion. Don't make me shoot you down." And with that, she rather hastily reached forward, switching off the link.

Moana slammed her hands on the monitor, "No, no no no, come back!" she wailed, and she tried to trace back the signal, but no response came, as the Mordesh sat cowering in her room, staring at the blank screen, "Come back...come back for me, Lyla...my precious officer Lylac...please...I forgive you…" she whispered, but no answer came from the black screen. Moana curled her knees into her chin, burying her teary eyes into them, a loud buzzing sound distracting her...

The whir was shaking the pipes in the subways. Moana stirred from her rest to the loudspeakers blaring internally in the Gambler's Ruin.

"Attention! Attention! All Exiles report to the nearest briefing comm! Announcement in three minutes! This is not a drill! All Exiles report to the briefing comms! This is not a drill!"

Briefing comms, one of those things that you mostly knew because of the drills, not its actual intended purpose.
Moana made her way to the nearest access hatch, slipping out and trying to hang behind the crowds. The last such announcement had been the evacuation of the Aurin, and before that, Moana struggled to remember what crazy engagement led to her first briefing.

But the crowds had gathered, and soon the voice of someone Moana didn't recognize, though he was undoubtedly Granok, came through, "Exiles! I am pleased to be the first to rel...rell-ay?...the first to tell you! That the rumors are true, and brave Exile explorers have discovered the planet Nexus, home of the Eldan!" At this, murmurs spread through the crowd, even Moana raising an eyebrow in interest. The announcement continued, "Now, I'm sure I don't need to let you know that the ark ships are, well...let's be honest, folks, they're a bunch of crap. We aren't long for this galaxy if we stick in these rust buckets for very long. The Dominion has no presence on Nexus. In fact, we don't even think they know it still exists. Which is why, we, the ship's captains an' Exile leaders, think our best course of action is to settle on Nexus. Over the next few days, non-essential personnel and all civies will be placed into cryo-stasis for the trip. Congratulations, people. The Exiles have a home."

Cheers could be heard throughout the ark ship, a Granok woman a few feet away lifting up an Aurin male and they started making out on the deck. A Mordesh, Moana did not recognize him, walked up and placed a hand on Moana's shoulder, "Intriguing. The Eldan may possess a cure for our kind."

He seemed far too excited in the possibilities to stay for a reply. Moana simply leaned back against the wall, staring at the screen where the comm was displaying the few early images of Nexus from orbit. People around were still chatting and hugging, cheering and kissing in celebration.

Moana scoffed at the screen, studying it for a moment with her pale, milky eyes, "Eldan Justice, hm?" Suddenly, the sight of two Humans kissing made her sick to her stomach, and she turned, heading back to the subways to be alone with her own thoughts on the matter.