What awaited below was not what Taylor expected. Truthfully, he didn't know what to expect but to find most of Colorado in an all out war was far from anything he could've imagined. 

Rushing through the streets; shouting, gunfire and explosions could be heard in every direction. Who was fighting Taylor was uncertain though. At brief glances down various streets and alleyways he caught glimpses of police as well as armed civilians, however given his time in the middle east he also identified the sounds of military grade weapons and ordinance giving him the impression that the Federation was trying to regain control of the city. 

Something caused an uprising amongst the populace, whether it was Morrigan's propaganda or something else, Taylor couldn't be certain however, one thing he could be certain is that it couldn't have been just Colorado that fell into chaos. The citizens he grew up with had no reason to raise arms against law enforcement, but if they did, so did the rest of the world. 

Taylor couldn’t help but be anxious as they made their way to the first of two locations he had hoped his parents would be. Being forced to land outside the city limits and approach on foot didn't help his nerves as it had been over an our since they touched down. He cursed to himself wishing the ship could have avoided the anti-aircraft cannons as easily as the starships above; he tried to stay focused on the task at hand, after all, their schedule was tight and uncertain, and they have lost a considerable amount of time already. 

Taylor and Stephanie ducked into an alley between two ransacked stores; the glass of shattered windows decorating the cracked sidewalk while the interiors of every business sat gutted of their goods. 

Taylor pulled Stephanie against the wall as a Federation helicopter roared overhead, unleashing a salvo of rockets from above towards a target they couldn't see. However, as the helicopter moved towards its target, a rocket from no where smashed into the rotor with expert precision, effectively removing the helicopter from the sky. 

“This is chaos…” Taylor muttered to himself as worry for his parents reached an all new high. However, his worries were pushed into the back of his mind as heavy mechanical impacts echoed down the street they had just been on. Peering around the corner Taylor was able to confirm the Federation’s obvious hand in the conflict as he stared down a war-walker stomping its way up the street, its heavy footfalls splitting the ground. 

“We need to go…” he stated to Stephanie before the rhythmic pulse of automatic gunfire stole his attention once more, risking another glance to see a lone civilian running across the street hopelessly unloading into the war machine. As expected, the pilot tracked the assailant and in a thunderous roar, the twin linked cannons on its right side shredded them apart in a spray of bone, gore and shattered stone. 

Stephanie tugged Taylor’s arm to pull him out of his stunned stupor and dragged him deeper into the alleyway. “Sorry… this just sucks,” he commented, opting to keep his explanation simple rather than delve into his psyche. Sure, they were both veterans of war having seen multiple lifetimes of atrocities and horrors that made them both respectively numb. However, what he wasn't prepared for was the distinct difference between a battlefield and his own home. 

“I get it, but you can't get distracted. We have a mission and it's no good if you get dead,” she signed before smacking him in the forehead with the palm of her hand, stepping back with smug smirk on her face. 

Taylor blinked a moment before he found himself unable to resist snorting and smiling himself. With a relieving sigh he nodded, “Yeah, you're right.” 

Stephanie flashed him a snarky, triumphant smile before asking, “Which way?” 

Nodding ahead, Taylor said, “Just up ahead, our shop was on the south-eastern end of the block.” 

With direction in mind, the two of them continued forward into a city thrown into chaos, running headlong into an endless conflict of unknown proportions, uncertain what awaited them.  

◇◇◇ 

Morrigan growled as a nearby pirate ship’s engines went critical, it’s proximity close enough for the blast to rock the Archangel and cause its shields to flare brightly. 

In the hour of conflict, the Eskarii had lost six percent of their fleet, and the pirate clans lost just over ten. Even though between everyone’s efforts they managed to destroy or fully disable nearly 30 Federation ships, yet the numbers were still in the Federation’s favor. 

Despite conserving her energy by attacking engines and weaponry with her power rather than outright tearing ships apart, exhaustion was slowly beginning to bear down on Morrigan. 

“Mori, nine hostile ships have targeted us,” Sister announced over the endless orders coming from her command crew, causing Morrigan to groan before her skeletal wings flared into reality once more and she summoned another barrier that surrounded the ship. Another issue that had been taking up a large part of her energy and focus. 

The weight of the assault brought her to her knees once again after having long lost count of how many attacks she defended against. She knew she didn't have a choice though. Even the Eskarii shield generators were incapable of defending against so many concentrated attacks, with her being the primary target of the Federation, the Archangel had little hope. 

A vibrating hum resonated through the cold metal floor before it quickly disappeared with the telltale sound of distorted momentum, telling Morrigan that Avery had shifted the ship’s position once again via Skip, giving her a moment of reprieve. 

“You okay, Mori?” Avery asked over his shoulder before leaning into the controls to adjust the pitch of the ship. 

Morrigan wiped her face with a groan before forcing herself back to her feet, her muscles and joints painfully protesting against the strain she was putting herself through. “Yeah… thanks,” she said as she took a deep breath before surveying the battlefield. “Where the hell are the Marmuro’k?” She inquired in irritation. 

The scene before her wasn’t her worst fears. However, her stress began to mount as she watched shields flare on both sides, warships of every make fire their cannons relentlessly at one another while smaller star craft zipped around the massive vessels in a seemingly endless dogfight. Each side had one goal; whether it was to fire large payloads and cause total annihilation of an enemy ship, or to pass through underneath the shields to whittle away at the enemy or board the colossal warships in an attempt to take them over. 

It didn't help her stress at all that the bridge of her ship was a cacophony of radio chatter that described everything she couldn't see, between her command crew as well as listening to inter-ship communication that played over their secured channels, it was more information than she could process effectively. 

Relax, little goddess, Apollyon hissed in delight, Your war is heading in your favor. 

However, as Morrigan’s eyes darted around the battlefield her heart rate spiked as her breathing started to become more ragged. A mixture of the strain on her body and her attempts to make sense of the chaos around her caused her head to throb; a deep, painful throb coursing through her in every beat of her quickening heart. Her hands shook slightly as she attempted to steel herself only to remind herself that she had caused it all. 

“This isn't… this isn't what I wanted…” she thought to herself as the consequences of her actions were bare for her to see in the debris of destroyed ships scattered throughout the battle zone. 

Open your eyes, girl. This is exactly what you wanted; the chance at freedom, at peace… this is how you get it. This, is how you will achieve your dream! Apollyon told her. She couldn't tell whether or not the deity was trying to calm her down, cheer her up or condescend her however, in that instance she witnessed an Eskarii Frigate shatter before her, men and women Queen Myshkali entrusted her with and all she was doing was watch so many she grew to adore put their life on the line for her whimsical dream. 

She needed the war to end, to stop the killing of what she held dear. Without a second thought, she approached her console and opened the general broadcast demanding once again that the Federation surrender or have Earth destroyed. 

What she received in return was callous resistance however, there was something that caught her attention, something towards the end that stood out against the torrent of insults hurled towards her. 

“Do as you please, but once the Federation crushes your little rebellion and you’re back in chains, the glory of the Federation will stretch across the stars,” said a calm, collected voice that made her blood both boil and run cold, one she hadn’t heard since she was a teenager, Amaranth. 

“Mori, we have a massive signature incoming!” Clare shouted over the open comms. 

Morrigan spun on her heels to try and pinpoint the tell-tale anomaly that indicated the drop from FTL travel. To her dismay, she couldn't find it. “Where is it?” she called out frantically, “Where is that son of a bitch!” 

“Mirina Sor, we have arrived,” Lakai's thunderous voice resonated over the command deck's audio system just in time for her to watch a salvo of four spheres of molten plasma drift overhead and soar into the battle, one quickly overloading the strong shields of a Federation Battleship before it slammed into it and began slowly eating away at the hull. 

Letting out a heavy breath of relief, Morrigan managed a small smile as she spotted the massive Marmuro'k warship in the distance off the starboard side, “It's good to hear from you…” 

Lakai gave her a concurring grunt before diverting his attention, “Mirina Sor sounds the horn, and children of Tik’Taq’To answer the call to war!” 

The cacophonous war cry that came from innumerable Marmuro’k across only a handful of ships drown the channel and made Morrigan's resolve sky rocket. To punctuate the Marmuro'k's war cry, everyone on the bridge of the Archangel watched as another Marmuro'k warship drop out of FTL at speed, its incredibly durable hull smashing through a Federation ship as if it never existed. 

“Your disgusting pets won't save you, my darling Rose,” Amaranthe interrupted, his voice on display for all to hear. 

Morrigan growled savagely as her moment of relief shifted into unbridled fury, “Show yourself, bastard!” Her eyes darted around the battlefield trying to figure out which ship his broadcast was coming from, in fact she hoped someone would call out his location. 

 She bore her fangs as she heard him chuckle condescendingly before saying, “I’ve always been here. I'm right in front of you, watching from the shadows.” 

This made her furrow her brow as she searched every glimpse of dark space she could find. “Uh, Mori? You need to see this!” Sarilla called out, her voice cracking in near panic. Rushing across the bridge, Morrigan nearly slammed into the back of her chair as she traced her Navigator's pointed finger. 

Off in the distance Morrigan watched as something began to crest from behind the shadow of the Earth, structural lights flaring to life as they illuminated a ship of gargantuan proportions, larger than the Marmuro’k warships, and possibly large enough to surpass the size of the moon. 

Somehow, some way, Amaranthe managed to hide something the galaxy had never seen before right in front of them. What made Morrigan's heart drop into her stomach though wasn’t the sheer size of the ship, nor was it the fact it had somehow remained hidden all this time. No, instead, it was its entrance into the battle that nearly shattered her resolve. As the ship came alive, so did the three rows of twelve broadside cannons on it’s starboard side. 

In an instant, three pirate ships were removed from battle along with two smaller Eskarii ships while half a dozen ships were wounded grievously as their shields were overloaded and several salvos made impact. 

Morrigan cut the general broadcast, “Attention all resistance ships, avoid the new Federation… ship, keep moving and don't let it target you if possible! Use the enemy as shields.” 

Instead of letting despair win, her anger began burning brightly as her heart bled for those lost. She hated it, hated the war, hated the battle, the loss of life, the fact that Amaranthe exists! Now she knew where her target was though, now she just needed a way to get her on that ship so she could end the war once and for all. 

“Sister! Analyze that ship! Avery, bring us in for attack! I'm going to destroy that fucking thing!” Morrigan demanded. 

◇◇◇ 

It had taken another hour and a half, as well as one stolen car, but Taylor and Stephanie had finally reached the second location in the lower hills of Denver, Taylor's home. 

Their first target had been the auto shop his family owned, but what was found had been heartbreaking for Taylor. They had discovered the shop derelict; the shop was ransacked, leaving a dozen cars in the lot with shattered windows and the building itself riddled with bullet holes. The sight had nearly caused Taylor to give up hope as they searched the wreckage of his family's shop, checking the few bodies that were found around the property. Thankfully, his parents were not among the dead, and that alone gave him the strength to move on. 

They had also learned something interesting in the form of a Geomancer dressed in CoU colors. They had witnessed the earth mage single handedly obliterate two full squads of Federation marines, which led to the decision to steal a car in hopes of getting as far away, and as fast as possible. 

He had never seen of earthen mages used in combat, often claimed by infrastructure companies throughout the Federation, and despite no longer being an enemy of the CoU, he did not want to risk a misunderstanding, especially with someone that could impale dozens of armored fighters with a mere flick of the wrist.  

It still surprised him that the CoU had managed to get so far inland, far from their home in the middle east but it did shed some form of light on the civilian upheaval. 

Escaping from the dangers of a walking war crime didn’t mean they were out of danger. Not long after they stole the car, they found themselves being chased by Denver police, an armored truck similar to those used by the D.S.T.U. Though it came to much surprise when those within the police truck had opened fire on them which led Taylor to believe it may not have been Denver cops driving the vehicle. 

Thankfully, speeding through active war-torn streets made it much easier to lose their pursuers and with a bit of luck, they made it into Taylor's old neighborhood unscathed. 

Their arrival wasn’t entirely happy though as Taylor noticed many homes on his block had been broken into and looted, a common practice when society began to collapse. There was relief though as he pulled into his own driveway to find that his house had been relatively untouched aside from scattered debris littering the yard. 

Turning the car off, Taylor took a deep breath, preparing himself to find nothing but disappointment given what he had witnessed earlier that day, and opened the car door. 

It was a strenuous moment for him as he got out of the car. It was a high possibility that his parents were not there and if not, he had no idea where to go from there. The sound of the passenger door closing drew his attention to find Stephanie standing beside the car watching the street with her pistol drawn. 

Feeling his eyes watching her, she turned and signed, “I'll take watch.” Taylor didn't argue with her as he gave her a stern nod before shouldering his own machine gun and taking a cautious step towards his house. He had to be prepared for anything, whether it was finding the house empty or filled with squatters. However, he didn't make it far before the sound of a stressed engine caught his attention. 

Dropping to one knee, he aimed in the direction the noise came from only to see a speeding civilian truck careening down his street, the bed of the truck loaded with armed civilians that struggled to hang out as it passed his house and continued its high speed journey to elsewhere. 

Taylor sighed to dull his high-strung nerves before getting up with a shake of his head and continued his approach up the steps of his patio. Reaching the door, he noticed that his house wasn’t entirely intact; large holes peppered the door and the surrounding frame, which filled him with mixed emotions as he stepped on pieces of shrapnel on the ground that were scattered across the porch telling him that the shots had come from inside the house. 

The door was locked though which confused him, however that didn't mean there couldn't be hostile looters or squatters inside. Shifting next to the door, he took the butt of his machine gun and slammed it down on the lock using its heavy weight to try and shatter the simple handle. 

It took several tries but eventually the door handle gave way, the wood around it crumbling away as the door creaked open. Using the barrel of his gun he pushed the door open the rest of the way, revealing the nostalgic interior of his home. 

Just beyond the entrance was a hallway that led to a room on the left that was their living room that connected to the kitchen, and the right side connecting to his parents’ bedroom, a bathroom and his own bedroom all the way at the end. 

Cautiously, he took a step inside, his combat boot hitting hard against the wood floor as he kept the barrel of his machine gun aimed down the hall. It felt weird to need to be so cautious within his own home. Then again, with a brief moment of introspection, it dawned on him that it wasn't truly his home anymore. It had been years since he saw the inside of the house, replaced by the metal walls of a starship surrounded by fellow soldiers. No, not even that, his home, his new home, stood outside watching his back. 

The sudden sound of a shotgun racking drew him back to reality causing him to freeze, realizing he had moved further into the house as his thoughts distracted him. He glanced to the left into the living room filled with antique furniture salvaged from the early 2000s, and an older man that stood his own height and the long barrel of a weapon he hadn’t seen in nearly a decade. 

“Dad?” Taylor said, letting the barrel of his weapon drop slightly as his eyes focused on who actually stood next to him. Grizzled, in the early stages of balding, hands rugged and hardened from years of handling metal and chemicals associated with vehicles; it truly was his father Scott Briggs. 

The murderous intent on Scott's face faltered for moment, the weight of the gun in his hand causing the barrel to sway slightly as he his mind struggled to process what was said, cautiously studying the battle hardened man that stood before him. 

He couldn't deny there were similarities between the rugged soldier before him and his late son. However, he knew that his son was on a Death Squad in the Federation, It was bad enough they knew they wouldn’t see him again but it was worse that it left him and his wife Samantha sick with worry that Taylor had met his end off on some distant world. 

He didn't know what a Death Squad uniform looked like, but the armor the man wore, along with the clawed hand insignia stamped across the shoulder plate, didn't look like Federation armor. 

Tightening his grip on the shotgun, he said, “You are not my son,” and leveled the barrel to the man's temple. 

Taylor couldn't blame his father for not recognizing him. The last time they saw each other was during his graduation before he had been conscripted. Lowering his weapon until it was held aloft by a sling, Taylor raised his hands slowly and turned to stare down the barrel of his father's old hunting shotgun, connecting the dots in regard to the holes around the front door. 

“Yes, it really is me. You took me hunting back when I was 12, we hunted pheasants… last time we saw each other, I had just graduated high-school when the Federation arrived and conscripted me… you had a polar bear keychain hanging on the board in the shop, the one that was barely recognizable because it was so old...” Taylor stated slowly as he gently lifted the sling from his shoulder and set the machine gun on the ground. 

“Taylor?!” Came the familiar yet distressed voice of his mother from somewhere within the living room. Within half a second, he watched his mother lift her head from behind the couch in disbelief, all the while he watched the gears begin to turn in his father's head. 

Before anything else could be said, his mother rushed to her feet having been cowering in front of the couch, and charged between him and his father and throwing her arms around him as she bawled her eyes out. 

“It really is you…” Scott added as recognition finally hit him, setting the shotgun aside before entrapping Samantha between them as he too pulled Taylor in a hug that would have hurt if not for his armor. 

“I can’t believe it!” his mother cried near unintelligibly as Taylor hugged them both tightly. 

After a long moment of silent reunion, his father pulled back in confusion, “How are you here?” 

“Does it matter?! Our son is alive!” Samantha cried against Taylor's chest plate. 

“Yeah but… Helen said you were part of a Death Squad… from what she said, you would never come home?” Scott informed his son. 

Taylor looked up in recognition, easing up his embrace on his mother, “That's a long story but in a nutshell, Mori rescued me…” 

Having been lost in the throes of reunion, Taylor had forgotten his mission, “Speaking of, we need to leave, like now!” Taylor exclaimed as he nearly pushed his mother away and reached for his weapon that sat on the ground. 

“Wait, what?” Samantha inquired in confusion, shocked by the sudden switch in demeanor Taylor showed. 

“We're not leaving, this is our home, why would we leave?” Scott asked, equally confused. 

The rise in anxiety became apparent in Taylor as he double checked his weapon and looked down the hall, having forgotten that not only were they in a warzone, but that also the fact that Earth may not exist in the near future, the entire point of his mission. 

“I don't have time to explain but we came here to rescue you both. If they piss Mori off any more then…” Taylor trailed off, realizing he didn't want to cause his parents to panic in light of Morrigan's plan. 

“Wait…” Scott said in confusion, “So that really was Mori? That woman from that broadcast?” 

Taylor turned, never considering that his parents would have seen Morrigan's message to the Federation, much less anyone else but the Federation. Now the state of the world made sense to him. For one reason or another, Morrigan's message caused panic and for people to rebel. 

With a heavy sigh, Taylor nodded, “Yeah, that's her…” 

“I don't… she looks so different…” His mother added, “And she said she was going to target Earth? What does that mean?” 

Taylor shook his head, “Even I don't know. All I know is she let me come down here to find you but the Federation is really one wrong word from pissing her off enough to destroy this place, which is why we need to go,” he stated, trying to maintain a calm and collected tone despite knowing that there was no saying if or when things would get worse. 

“Why don't you know? You two were always inseparable…” Scott started in confusion only to be interrupted by the sound of automatic gunfire coming from outside. 

Taylor recognized the sound of Stephanie's machine pistol however, what followed was the sound of two vehicles crashing. Taylor instantly dropped to one knee and took cover, his combat instincts kicking in before turning to his parents and pointing into the room, “Get to cover,” he demanded. 

Once his parents got low to the ground, Taylor crept further up the hall as he heard the mixed exchange of gunfire however, what quickly followed was a horrified scream of a dying man nearly drown out by the roar of Stephanie’s chain blade. 

“What the fuck was that?” Taylor heard his father ask aloud in an uneasy tone which made Taylor snicker in amusement as he moved closer to the door. 

The front door was still partially open allowing him to peer outside to find Stephanie calmly walking up the steps of the front porch. With a smile of relief, Taylor stood and opened the door to reveal the common visage of a blood splattered Stephanie as she bolstered her motorized blade. 

“You okay?” he asked sweetly, knowing full well she was fine however, given the mess she always made, it always felt appropriate to ask just in case. 

Stephanie looked up at him with a derisive smirk before looking back and gestured to the armored police truck that had slammed into the car they had stolen, the windshield severely damaged and moderately plated chassis peppered by the armor-piercing rounds of her pistol. To his mild surprise, it seemed to him that they never gave up looking for them, which seemed odd. 

“Well… that sucks,” he commented as he saw that the truck had smashed in the entire passenger rear quarter leaving them without a vehicle again. There was a chance the truck was fine but that did make them more conspicuous. “At least you're alright,” he added giving her a gentle hug as he surveyed their surroundings for any more hostiles. 

Stephanie tapped his side as she let go drawing his attention back towards the interior of his house to find both of his parents peering down the hallway. With an amused chuckle, Taylor turned and said, “Its clear now, everything’s fine.” 

Scott and Samantha looked at each other with curiosity as they took a step out, making Taylor feel the newfound awkwardness of the situation. Nervously, Taylor sidestepped and said, “Ah, um, mom, dad, this is Stephanie,” gesturing towards the gore stained woman standing beside him. 

Whether it was a good thing or a bad thing, Stephanie’s demeanor shifted into that of a sweet, charming and girlish woman as she smiled brightly and waved enthusiastically in such a manner that reminded him of Nora’s own persona. He watched her sign towards his parents, just barely catching what she said before remembering that his parents wouldn’t understand her specific style of sign language. 

“Right, uh… she can’t speak due to an old injury but she says it’s very nice to meet you…” Taylor said awkwardly as he watched his parents cautiously approach. 

To his surprise, his mother was first to speak. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you too… are you okay sweetheart?” Samantha asked, her tone a mix of concern and caution as she looked the blood-soaked woman from head to toe. 

Taylor knew her visage made everything far more awkward than it should have, but he couldn’t help chuckle as Stephanie held out her arms off to her side and looked down before nodding sweetly. “I know it doesn’t look it, but this is… kind of a common look for her…” Taylor noted wishing he bit his tongue. However, his comment made Stephanie laugh as she nodded along with what he said. 

“So, uh…” his father started, “She is part of your team, we’re assuming?” 

Stephanie and Taylor looked at one another, Stephanie radiating an unusual energy of excitement while Taylor clearly felt awkward about the entirety of the situation. Between the war, the current state of his home and the topic of his love life, Taylor couldn’t see any reason for any form of respite, yet, awkwardness aside, he, Stephanie and his parents found themselves together in a moderately calm moment. 

Stephanie slapped his arm. “Come on! I can’t talk so you have to!” she signed, mildly annoyed that he hadn’t responded yet. “And don’t lie,” she added with a furrowed brow. 

“Okay, okay! Don’t panic,” he mused as he listened to the distant sound of fighting that surrounded them before addressing his parents. Against his better judgment, he chose to ignore everything to garner some kind of normalcy he once longed for. 

“So… yes, she is part of my team but, Stephanie is also my girlfriend…” he answered nervously. 

“Girlfriend? But you've always…” his mother talked off. 

His father scrutinized them both, “If she rescued you, I’m assuming she knows about this?” his tone a mix of fatherly concern and and curiosity with an added touch of warning. 

“Yes… yes! Uh, Mori knows,” Taylor stammered knowing full well that his father considered the possibility that he and Stephanie’s relationship was more lucrative. “Its kind of a long story but we've been together for three years? Four? I actually don’t recall when we started…” he said looking to Stephanie who sighed in disappointment, patting his face admonishingly.  

His mother shifted uncomfortably, having gone through a whirlwind of emotions yet tried to remain open minded and open hearted, “Well, I’m sure it is a long story, but it is nice to meet you, Stephanie. I do wish circumstances were a little bit… better.” 

“Right, well said,” his father added just as awkwardly. 

Taylor sighed, “Yeah, speaking of circumstances, we need to get going,” he said gesturing outside, “We have a ship that's hidden by the forests.” 

“We still don't understand, why do we need to leave?” his father asked only for Stephanie to spin on her heels with her pistol drawn, aiming outside. 

“Don’t do it girl! Let's all just take a moment to think!” came a voice outside only four Taylor to turn his head to find two mem standing outside with weapons drawn, civilians outfitted in a hodgepodge array of surplus military gear along with three other civilians and with automatic rifles. The two leading having some form of training while the others held their weapons tightly, the fear in their eyes telling them that they had never been in combat before. 

Taylor cautiously raised his hands again for the second time and turned to meet the militiamen. “Steph…” he whispered, as he watched her grunt and then reluctantly holster her pistol. 

“We heard a Federation motorized blade,” one of the two men called out, “Yet we find dead police and the two of you bearing no side.” 

Taylor grunted in annoyance having forgot that the Federation were the only ones that deployed barbaric weapons such as the chain blade. So it made sense that a bunch of militia would come running thinking that the Federation were around. 

“We belong to the Inquisition,” Taylor stated, slowly turning to show the insignia of Morrigan’s call sign. 

“Wait, wait, wait, wait… I recognize that voice…” said the man standing next to the first. He rested his weapon and stepped forward to take a better look, “No fucking way…” 

Everyone involved became confused by the man’s outburst before he turned to the other and pointed at Taylor, “Does he look and sound just like meat slab?” 

There was only one group of people who ever used that moniker, yet Taylor knew two were dead, and Jen was on an alien world. Taking a moment to scrutinize the two men, they both were very similar, albeit older and more haggard than his memory served. “Peters? Johnson?”