Memphos relayed the subjects of both conversations with Ramar, the one he had recently after the engagement, and also the short exchange of words they shared before while he was on the bridge of his, now heavily damaged, flagship. His contact furrowed her brow as he told her of Ramar's attitude, and eventually nodded sombrely to his concluding words.
"To put it bluntly," finished Memphos, "the man has no focus. He was more concerned about his grudge with this Shakor terrorist than he was with saving billions of isk and several years worth of work and gave no regard for the loss of life my fleet suffered." Memphos fell silent, aware that we was about to begin ranting if he continued further and decided instead to maintain his composure.
"I must admit," she added, "I have seen a disappointing change in his character recently. He is not the same man I knew when I recruited him in his early days at the Pator Tech School. But we will have to leave this exchange here. I am due to attend a meeting shortly and cannot be late. I would like to speak with you personally on this matter another day." Memphos fought against his surprise in true military fashion, maintaining his outward expression of calm. Up until now they had not actually met in person, and were restricted to secure com lines such as this one. The fact that she was now coming to see him was at the very least and encouraging sign that she understood the longer implications of Ramar's wild attitude.
"Very well." He replied. "I'll make the arrangements for your travel and be in touch." She nodded her appreciation silently, and disconnected from the line.

The med-bay was spotlessly clean under the crystal bright lighting. The unmistakable smell of antiseptic in the air was nearly as overpowering as the deafly silence, broken occasionally by the soft beeping of the monitoring equipment at the bedside. As if to punctuate these signals, Darius could hear the dull clunk of the approaching doctor's shoes on the hard tiled floor as he made his regular check of the readings on the machine. The staff had been keeping a close eye on Shay'la's progress since the last round of surgery to repair the internal injuries sustained on the planet some 8 hours ago. And bag after bag of synthetic blood was being clipped to an intravenous tube, replacing that lost in the messy operations and the first few minutes of bleeding before her wounds sealed fully from the heat of the laser strike. After another round of scribbling on his chart, the doctor silently took his leave again, returning the room to its serene quiet. What little communication Darius had had with the staff recently was enough to let him know she would live, but would expect a long road to a full recovery due to serious damage to the muscle ligaments around the waistline, and the need for complicated corrective surgery on her intestinal lining that had suffered partial scorching.

As he stood at the bedside, the last evening passed through his mind. He recalled how Shay'la was injured in the fire fight at his ship and what she had said afterwards through her pain.
'Brother?' he wondered. 'What did she mean?'
Not to mention his earlier doubts over her approaching him for help to begin with. He had suspected she had other motives, either against him or Ramar. Now he was not so sure anymore. At least she will live to tell her part in this, and after all he had gone through, he deserved nothing less than a complete explanation. Even if he had to choke it out of her once she was better.

The door to the med-bay swung open as Khaldorn entered the room, flanked by Jorund and Entarel. They made their way to the bed where Darius was keeping his vigil. He did not see them approach but he knew it was them none the less. Their footsteps had an awkward shuffle to them, meaning under these circumstances they were from his corp, and many of the corp pilots were still making their way back after losing their ships. He raised his head up straight when the footsteps came to a halt behind him, followed by a nervous cough aimed at getting his attention.
"Khal." He said flatly, acknowledging them.
"Dar, uhm…" he started. "yeah, well Maggot wants you in his office… now." Darius took in an exasperated breath and turned for the door, barely taking note of Khaldorn or his entourage. He made it half way through the door when Khaldorn spoke again.
"Dar, what was all this about?" he asked. Darius stopped at the door and considered his answer, but instead chose not to respond and continued through the door to the main hall.

Maggot stared across his desk with his usual dark expression. It was hard for him to look anything but brooding these days, though the dark rims around his eyes, his pale complexion and gaunt face served better to enhance his bad moods than his good. At his side and just behind him was Zoolkhan, towering over the CEO of the corporation with his arms folded across his chest. Darius could see clearly he was even less impressed than Maggot, and yet he did not care as much as he would have done less than twenty four hours ago. Maggot had already expressed how angry he was at the outcome of last night, insinuating that Darius was chiefly responsible for the whole fiasco. But what had angered him most was that their planned raid was now on hold due to a lack of ships at the ready, not to mention an undoubtedly steep increase in Ammatar security presence in the wake of their fracas in Sasta.
"I would like to know," continued Maggot, in his usual low yet threatening tone, "what the hell possessed you to go off like that a day before we were due to raid an Ammatar installation that was, until now, ripe for the picking." Darius confronted Maggot's silent glare with one of his own, that only served to enrage Maggot further. "You realise we sacrificed a large fleet last night to save your ass?" Darius balled his fist up, yet was unable to retrain his outburst.
"No one asked you to come and save me!" he shouted over the small office desk.
"You fucking ingrate!" snapped Zoolkhan in retort. Maggot raised a hand to his old friend, and took over again, leaning over the desk towards Darius to drive his own response deeper.
"Darius, if we hadn't come to destroy that fleet, you would have been killed and your clone would have been hijacked!" Darius was about to shout back in retort before the clone hijack remark sank in. He pursed his lips for a second to think before carrying on.
"How could you have known that?" he said, still angry at them but unable to curb his curiosity.
"Because you are lucky to have people watching your back." Came the reply. It was a woman's voice. Darius turned quickly to be greeted by a familiar face as his agent, Chiron, stood in the open doorway. Darius had not even heard the door open, let alone know how long she had been standing there. She entered the room and let the door close again behind her. And as quickly as she had appeared, it was all starting to make sense to Darius.
"Chiron is the one who tipped us off about your little escapade in Ammatar space, as well as giving us information about the clone hijack attempt." Said Maggot flatly.
"Shay'la is a senior member of my field team." Replied Chiron, pre-empting Darius' questions.
"Yes," he replied flatly, "she told me that. At least that wasn't a lie." Chiron nodded.
"Well she is just one of many people that report to me, and she also has some authority of her own over assets in her area. In short, she abused this authority and was acting alone." She let that carry on the air for a few seconds before Darius broke the silence.
"She told me you had sent her. That you had set everything up."
"Again, I did no such thing. I only found out about what was happening when one of her team reported to me. They were also being used by her and they thought it was an authorized operation."
"Wait up a second," interrupted Zoolkhan, "can we step back a moment. We still don't know what Darius was trying to do in Ammatar space. Can we get filled in on this first?" Chiron looked at Darius, as if to let him tell the story from his perspective.

Darius began to tell them everything about what happened from Shay'la approaching him with her offer to join her, to the confrontation in orbit around Khabi IV, to the fight where his brother died by his own hands and their subsequent escape from the planet surface. As they listened to him, the air lifted somewhat in the room as it was clear to them that Darius had suffered the loss of his brother again. He didn't show it on the outside, but Maggot had to believe he was grieving on the inside. But there were still holes that needed filling in and Maggot would feel satisfied with no less than a total run down on these events.
"So," he mused a second, keeping the conversation on track, "what do you think your agent's motivation was Chiron?"
"Well, I do intend to find out the facts from her myself," she started, "though I would simply guess she was used as a means to lure Darius there. Still, something unsettles me about this whole thing. I mean, an entire fleet for backup to shoot him down on the way out? That's a heavy hand to play for a small goal." She looked at Darius. "No offence Dar." Darius didn't turn in her direction, and simply peered to the side through his narrow eyes.
"OK, so we can assume she is not a security risk. But to be sure I hope you understand we should keep her under guard until you make any arrangements to take her with you." Chiron nodded in agreement. "Now, one thing I would like to know is how you knew exactly what was going to happen leading you to call us in."
"OK, that's fair. Well as I said, I first learned of this thing happening when one of her field team reported to me when he lost contact with her ship. Her last report to him, according to his logs, were of Shay'la and Darius engaging their target. He and another agent both thought they were under an official order from me, and they were not. I recalled them both and, on the way out, one of the agents reported to me again about the sighting of an Ammatar Security fleet at the Jark gate in Sasta. It was obvious that this was a trap of some sorts and, well, I could not let them just kill Darius. We have history together after all and I still owe him a debt." Chiron was referring to her guilt over Kordan being killed on a mission she arranged for him.
"And the clone jacking?" remarked Zoolkhan inquisitively.
"Pod Pilots are essentially immortal due to cloning. I doubt they assembled nearly a billion isk worth of hardware to collect a frozen corpse. And, I don't want to shake your confidence in the cloning technology, but it is easier than you think to hijack neurological data streams. The only difficult part is to have the pilot where you want him and your men in place ready to intercept the pattern. And they knew exactly where Darius was." She looked at Zoolkhan who was staring at her, still unflinching under his dark glasses. "I know it might seem like a stretch, or a plot from a bad secret agent holo-reel, but when you are in this business you have such instincts for these things as they happen frequently. Not just government sanction level but also underworld and, on very rare occasions, corporate level too."

Maggot leaned back in his chair, piecing together all the information. As he did he realised there was little about it that would change the situation such as the loss of the bulk of their ready fleet.
"I'm still not convinced this 'Shay'la' is entirely innocent in this." Remarked Zoolkhan with a frown.
"Zool," replied Darius, "If she was working with them she could have turned me in to the guards who surrounded my ship. She would not have shot a crossbow bolt through one of their necks, and broke the neck of another one to stop him shooting me. Besides, I am not totally blind to her. She had some kind of motive in dragging me out there like that, as well as setting up all the fake orders. And I want to know what that was more than anyone."

A knock on the door cut through the pause in their conversation.
"Yes, what is it?" said Maggot in a raised tone through the door. The door opened and Beinrich poked his head through the gap.
"Sorry to interrupt Maggot," he said quickly. "She's awake again."
"Thank you Bein." Maggot looked at Chiron as Beinrich slipped back out of the office again and shut the door. "Do you want to talk to her now?"
"No," she replied, "I will speak to her back at the headquarters when she has recovered her strength. Our conversation will not be pretty. Besides, I think Darius is owed more of an explanation than me right now, and I have some other business to attend to."
Maggot turned his attention back to Darius who was still standing there looking at him and Zoolkhan. After a long pause and a sigh he spoke.
"All right, do you have anything else to say?"
"No." he said sharply. His tone did little to raise the tension in the air, and Maggot suspected that he didn't mean to. But it was probably the only thing keeping Darius from thinking about his brother, so he let it go.
"OK, go do what you need to do." Maggot would just have sooner told Darius to 'Get the hell out of my office.'

Darius said little more as he didn't hesitate to turn for the door, nearly forcing it off the hinges as he pulled it open. And yet despite the hostility remaining in the air, Maggot knew it could have gone much worse.

At a slow and steady pace, the room began to shrink around her as her senses recovered one by one. There was someone looming just to the side of her, and at least two other people in the room. She could not see clearly though, and her vision was just a dry blur through heavy eyelids. But she could feel them none the less. She fought through the haze and fog of the drugs flowing through her system that tangled with the pain of her wounds and made out murmured voices. A scent of antiseptic in the air, coupled with the harsh roughness of the sheets over her told the tale of a hospital facility. She forced herself to recover as much of her wits as she could as she tried to gather as much information about her surroundings without giving away her waking state.

Countless thoughts and questions, ruthlessly drilled into her in training, danced through her head and she struggled to focus on the important ones. She had to focus. Was she in enemy hands? How did she arrive here? She could not feel any restraints, but she felt drugged and lethargic. More pain coursed through her body, focused on her midsection, and her face creased in pain.
"I know you are awake." Came a voice, muffled as though she had sponge in her ears. Even though, it was familiar to her. "We're back at the station, in case you wondered. And yes, you will live." Her ears adjusted to the noise a little better. Darius? She opened her eyes and tried to focus on the dark shape at her side. It was him. She wandered her eyes around the room a little more to try and take in the area, and be sure this was not a trick of some sort. No more informed now than she was with her eyes shut, she closed them again to rest another minute.
"You're not resting yet." He continued in a firm tone. "I want answers from you."
"What did I miss?" she asked, ignoring his rudeness. "I am in a little pain here after all. You aren't going to fill me in?" Darius was amazed, despite his building temper. Even now, she was being as obnoxious and irritating as she was when they met.
"That's a long story that can wait." He said through gritted teeth. He wasn't even sure she didn't remember what happened, and edifying her was hardly the top of his priorities right now. "I just spoke with Chiron." He let that linger a moment. Shay'la didn't react. "I know you were acting alone now. Why did you drag me all the way to Ammatar space?" Again, she was silent. "What about Ramar? You said something about 'our revenge' before we engaged that ship. Did you know my brother was flying it? And what did you mean after you got shot, when you said something about Kordan and 'brother'?" Her expression remained blank as she stared at the ceiling above her. The bed shuddered sharply as Darius slammed his palm against the metal railings in anger. "Damn you! I deserve a fucking answer!" he shouted, shattering the peaceful quiet of the empty ward room and startling the medics at the other end of the room. "I almost got killed today, more times than I would like. I could have been a slave by now. I just got a grilling from the brass for the loss of a fleet and a pre-planned operation up in smoke as half our fucking fleet was reduced to scrap by the Ammatar Security fleet. Not to mention me saving your ass on the planet and getting you here in one piece so you had better start talking."

Her head rolled to the side and she looked at him.
"Kordan was my brother." She replied solemnly. "We had the same farther, the man that married your mother." Darius felt like his feet had just been kicked out from under him. "He left our clan and married your mother when you and I were still young." Things now started to piece together in Darius' mind. Just like that, all his questions had been answered about why she chose him to go help her, if not asked to do so by Chiron in an attempt to repay him in some way.
"I never met Kordan." She continued, giving more substance to her story. "But I always wanted to. I knew about him, and when I found out in my field work that he was still alive, I had to do something about it. I have no love for my farther. He was a bastard at the best of times." Darius knew what she meant. He abandoned them not long after Kordan was born, and that broke his mother's heart, and eventually her mind. "I could not imagine why they were keeping him alive though, and the potential reasons sickened me almost as much as when I found out he was being transported to the Vitoc facility on Khabi IV to be tested on. All I knew was, they got him instead of you because of the mission Chiron sent him on after you refused it."
"Why didn't you tell me all this when you approached me?" asked Darius. Shay'la huffed a little half-laugh.
"I didn't think you would have believed the truth. And I needed to keep up the lie I fed to my people who were helping us. And that meant lying to you too. But you had to come along. This revenge was not just mine to take."
"So, why wasn't Ramar there? Why was that fleet waiting for us?" he speculated.
"I guess I was used by Ramar. He must have known all along I was a mole in his operation. Now that I think about it like that, that's kind of depressing. I always through I was such a good spy."
"Seems we got lucky though. One of your men reported to Chiron after he lost contact with you when your ship was blown up on Khabi IV. Another reported a fleet waiting at a gate checking ships. And she pieced it together quickly and called Maggot to tell him I would need assistance." Shay'la listened to the first piece of real information about what she had missed, and nodded uneasily. Even if it was quite a coincidence, and she did not even believe I coincidences. That alone started to make her a little uneasy.
"Tell me more. What happened after I was shot?" Darius prepared to recount the tale again, and began to fill her in on everything she missed after being shot.

"Again," continued Chiron, in a slightly lighter air, "thank you for taking care of Shay'la."
"That's all right." Responded Maggot. "The doctor has said she should make a recovery, though there could be some permanent internal damage. Not sure how that will bear on her career."
"Well," deadpanned Chiron, "her career is in more danger now than an internal injury could cause." She said nothing more, and Maggot knew not to ask further what would happen to her. He was not even sure he cared to be honest. "Also, thank you for trusting me. I know you had no reason to believe me when we spoke last night, and I regret the loss of a large portion of your fleet and the imposition that has put you in." Zoolkhan stifled a snort under his breath. "And I hope all your pilots return safe." He simply nodded his thanks with his usual menacing look on his face.

"If you want to talk to Shay'la now," continued Maggot, "I can arrange for a more private meeting between you two."
"No that's fine." She answered. "I will wait until she has recovered her strength. Besides, our conversation should be held inside a Security Services facility for maximum security. I am sure you understand." Maggot nodded his understanding to her. "Now, if you will excuse me gentlemen, I have to be getting back to my work." Chiron turned to the door, nodding to them once more before leaving the office. Maggot leaned back and let out a long, slow breath of air.
"Well old friend," he mused, "she seems to have it all figured out, for a pencil pusher." Zoolkhan looked down at Maggot who was still staring at the doorway as he brought his hands up to his bald head and massaged his pains.

Chiron's heels clunked down the heavy metal of the hallway in regular rhythm as she made her way towards the public section of the station. Round the corner she headed towards the med-bay entrance where a cluster of pod pilots bearing the FU2 logo on their pod suites were clustered some few meters down the hall from the door. The sound of her footsteps approaching grabbed their attention as they all looked towards her, some obviously wondering who she was and others wondering what she was doing here. They seemed to hang around like stray animals, hungry for scraps of information. Not that she could blame them for their curiosity in any way. This evening must have been odd for them, going out to fight without knowing why. As she glanced through the window partition in the door to the med-bay at Darius and Shay'la on her way past, she knew none of them would ever know the full story.

Chiron continued without stopping and walked silently past the pilots gathered in the hallway. Khaldorn observed her with a slight hint of a smile on his face and, as she gained a few more meters from the group, he stepped out into her wake while taking a gratuitous sniff of the air. Hobsbawn and Entarel could not help but roll their eyes as he slowly exhaled with an almost leering sigh.
"Forget it Khal." Grumbled Hobs under his breath as he leaned back against the wall and folded his arms. "She's out of your league buddy."

Moments later, the door to the med-bay opened wide as Darius exited the room and marched past the guys waiting for some kind of word on what happened tonight. He walked until he was level with them before he slowly stopped and turned to them.
"Thanks for the rescue." He said simply. They looked at him blankly as he turned to walk away in the direction of the crew bunks. Once he was gone, Khaldorn shrugged.
"Well, guess we will have to hear it from the boss man." He said before walking away himself. One by one, the group dispersed, confident they were not going to get any information tonight.

Darius approached the crew bunks area, just past the entrance to the mess hall. No more than a meter from the mess hall door, a blur dashed through the entrance and bumped into him at full pace. A shocked yelp accompanied a pair of light brown eyes looking up at him as Sh'Khari attempts to recover herself from the unexpected wall she just hit, realising it was Darius.
"Ohh." She stammered, still shocked. "I'm sorry sir. I didn't see you. I was in my own world there."
"That's ok." He replied. "No harm done. And I already said before you don't need to keep calling me sir." Sh'Khari flashes a warming smile at him before moving to go around him. Darius puts a hand on her shoulder to stop her a moment, and looked her in the eyes.
"Thank you for your save earlier." He said. She stared silent at him, as thought she did not know what to say in return without sounding silly. He contemplated deep down, telling her how much it meant to him that her actions in Sasta saved him. It allowed him to get the truth from Shay'la finally. But he felt it best to let the thank you linger and takes his hand off her shoulder. He walked past her and down the hall to his quarters leaving Sh'Khari stood by the mess hall door. He was several steps away by the time she had regained herself.
"Your welcome." She said after him in a raised voice. Darius continued onward, looking to his side a moment before turning away again.

The comfortable, hugging seats were a small comfort to Darius as he sank into the generous and spacious bucket. It was nice to travel around sometimes without being strapped into a pod filled with lurk-warm fluid and hooked to various wires attached to the back of the neck and the arms. He was comfortable in the cool dry cabin of the skimmer as it rocketed across the ocean less than a few meters above the calm water. The day was beginning to grow darker as the vibrant bright orange sun descended towards the horizon that was starting to glow a deep red with a spectacular yellow halo. He had missed much on Matar, and the late evening sunsets over the open waters of the south equatorial region were no exception. A light humming filled the air with the murmured chatter of the other passengers travelling on this route. He had looked around the cabin when he boarded the skimmer, but no one else bore the Shakor clan tattoo. And in an odd way he felt a little relief. The journey would take around an hour or so from the mainland south coast on the other side of the planets equator, and he preferred a quiet journey. It had been three days since he filed for some personal vacation time with the corporation, and was not surprised how quickly his request was granted either. While he was sure there was some well meaning concern behind wanting him to take a vacation, he could not help but fell they just wanted rid of him for a few days too.

Sometime later, the skimmer began to reduce speed and the long modular wings on the side of the aircraft began to spread their shape to a wider form and increase the drag while decreasing the flight speed of the aircraft too. A click over the PA in the cabin preceded the pilot voice telling the passengers they were approaching the Korjfal Archipelago, and they will be arriving at Mor Koral in ten minutes. Darius leaned back in the seat once more to savour the last of the comforts of being a passenger before he had to make his departure for the aircraft at his home island. Another announcement five minutes later told the cabin crew and passengers to prepare for 'surface contact' as the skimmer, now flying very slowly, gently lowered towards the water. It was smooth and unbroken below them, so the water landing would be gentle at worst. The large underbelly of the skimmer cut the surface water and lowered into it, now becoming a boat. Stabilising floats on the tips of the wings lowered on hydraulic stilts to their full extension, making contact with the water and allowing the hull to rest. The island was close by as the hybrid skimmer drifted towards a large dock area on the side of the island.

Darius stepped out onto the dock some minutes later, no luggage and not so much as an acknowledgment to the smiling cabin crew. As he approached the lower end of the town, some two kilometres from the clan hall at the crest of the hill ahead of him, the air became alive with the ever frantic chatter of a busy market place by the docks. As the noise grew, so did the smells in the air. Stalls selling fresh seafood caught in the vast oceans beyond the island mixed with those selling mixes of vegetables and fruit from the large expanses of land on the island. As always the markets were bustling with activity, which pleased Darius to see his clan was still thriving. Yet, despite that, he could not feel the elation in his system as he pushed through the crowd towards the town. Further in, the aromas changed again as taverns and guest houses around the docks were no doubt preparing their evening meals and the mixed smells of meat and fish being cooked with a variety of ingredients playfully danced through the still air.

He continued his solitary walk through the town and towards the clan hall, now ascending the hill road and leaving the lively scene of the main town behind him. Before long, his home was within reach as he crossed the main gates, always left open and unguarded, and approached the main door. Darius pushed one half of the dominating double door open and through the entrance lobby area. The lobby was manned by two Koude guards who were stood at ceremonial ease in their traditional manner, both bearing their Mast'oba spears. The base of the spear was resting on the ground, and propped up against the outer side of the guard's foot, and the upper half held outstretched at arms length so the Mast'oba was tilted away from the warrior. The guard on the left held his spear with his left hand, and the one on the right with his right hand, leaving the partition between them clear and open. Both men would have been trained to use their weapons with either hand effectively from an early age and, should they ever engage someone in hand to hand battle, they would be a hard pair to fend off as attacks can come from either direction. This was not only a ceremonial stance for show, but is also a main form of the Koude martial art, allowing an initial wild flail of the Mast'oba to fend off an oncoming attack at distance, and give the wielder a chance to gain their preferred stance to fight.

Behind each man was a large stone pillar stretching up to the top of the domed roof. The pillar on Darius' left, as he approached the gap between both men, had a dark brownish-red smear all the way down to a puddle that also stained the floor. It was much more faded with each year, but remained none the less as no effort had been made to clean it. This was where the holder in charge of a group of islands, including the Shakor homeland, was dealt a deathblow by Gol'dar Shakor, Darius' uncle. According to accounts, Gol'dar had dragged the holder to this very spot from the far side of the clan hall where he was trying to escape the oncoming liberation army, pinned him against this pillar, and drove the base of his Khumaak into the side of the holder's head. That Khumaak, now a Shakor Clan and family heirloom, also bore the stain of blood at the base. The base of the Khumaak, given to Gol'dar in the liberation army, was different than others as Gol'dar had taken the original handle off and replaced it with a shortened end piece of a Mast'oba. It was this that he killed the holder with.

As Darius passed level with the guards, they rapidly swing their arm holding the spear round to their chest, pulling the Mast'oba to their front in salute. Again, sparing them no attention, he carried on through the hall and into the back rooms of the clan building. His eventual destination was the grounds behind the clan hall. Darius approached his family burial plot at the rear of the estate, and through the gap in the low fence. Rugged poles of wood rose from the well tended ground at the head of each grave, a burial pole decorated with symbols of status, family lineage, family left behind, the way they died and when. It was a short display of their whole lives in the clan, from birth to death. Some poles were longer than others, yet there were so few in the plots, as those dating back before the occupation were cruelly uprooted by the Amarr slave masters who saw them as a symbol of heathenism and pagan rituals. Darius came to a halt finally, stopping for the first time since he got off the skimmer, at a single burial pole besides his Uncle's. It was short, and decorated with the quick history of his life. It was Kordan's grave. Starting at the bottom where he was born, and stretching to the top which marked his time of death.

He stood in the growing darkness that was beginning to creep across the sky and stared at the burial pole, fighting the sting behind his eyes. Darius stretched his hand out towards the markings at the top of the pole. His hand began to shake before he even touched the painted wood, stalling short of the pole as the tears broke free from the corners of his eyes. He lost the power to stand as he slowly dropped to his knees, finally resting his hand against the pole as he curled forwards. His face creased with a grief he had not allowed to surface since his brother had died. Darius brought another hand against the pole to steady himself as the tears flowed free down his face, eventually breaking into a cry of remorse as Darius wept for his brother finally. He wept now, knowing that he had killed his own brother. But not on the planet in Khabi. He had killed his brother a long time ago.

Major General Memphos eyes the large data pad that was slid across the sterile grey table and raised an eyebrow.
"This is why I wanted to see you in person." She said to him with a smile that should have sent alarm bells ringing in Memphos's head. However, his interest was peaked, and had been for the last couple of days since he was contacted. "You will find the contents of some interest." He took the pad between his fingers and viewed the contents. There was nothing but a single video file, which Memphos played. He eyed the footage carefully, then realised what he was watching as the terrorist Darius Shakor and his brother Tourvel fought on the surveillance camera footage. Memphos viewed the grizzly finale with his usual cold exterior, though fighting the bile in his gut as he viewed his own brothers face being blown apart at close range by Darius' gun. He tossed the pad to the table again with a disgusted look on his face.
"I don't know why you felt I needed to watch my own brother being killed by that terrorist." He snorted. She looked across the table in the small conference room and sighed.
"You should look at it again." She said. "I know this is hard for you, and you haven't even seen this footage. No one has since my superiors confiscated the data quickly. But I convinced the powers that be that you needed to see this because we have an assignment for you. And you need to be properly motivated." Memphos could not move for the weight of the curiosity holding him firmly in his seat. He looked at the pad once more before picking it up again.
"And what should I be looking for besides what I already know?" He asked flatly.
"Keep your eyes on the upper right of the display, and tell me what you see."

Memphos held the pad for a few seconds, waggling it in his fingers before he sighed and jabbed his thumb on the play button again. The grim scene played once more, with the two main parties fighting in the hallway. However, his renewed focus showed a third party in the drama, stood at the top of the hallway by another hangar bulkhead. Memphos paused the replay and studied the image carefully, finally recognising the figure as Ramar. Memphos looked at the woman across the table who was staring at him with a trained, unreadable expression on her face. He looked back at the pad and continued playing the footage as Darius got the upper hand quickly in the fight against Tourvel. This time, he watches as Ramar stands still, observing everything unfold as Darius regains his stance, collects his gun and raises it to his brother's head. Ramar simply turns to the side and runs away down the hall to the right of the camera's view, moments before Darius shoots Tourvel again. Memphos let the images fade again and back to the default screen, his eyes fixed on the pad in front of him. She watches his fingers tense around the rim of the pad, turning white from the pressure, and knew it had worked. A slight smile graced the corner of her lips as he was now, as she put it a moment ago, 'properly motivated'.

"That…" Muttered Memphos, barely containing the rage.
"He could have saved your brother." She said plainly. "He stood and watched as your brother was stabbed." Memphos clenched his jaw tight. She never ceased to be amazed at the influence of blood.
"The coward…" he said again through gritted teeth. Despite centuries of servitude to the Amarr, total faith and a willing conversion to their ways, there was Minmatar blood within all their veins. Blood that now boiled within Memphos as a thirst for revenge washed through his body like a cold, prickly wave. He had felt this before, like a primal instinct within when he first heard of his brother's death at the hands of this man. He remembered fighting to suppress it with all his might, as his desire for vengeance and his vindictive desires were laced with a sin as foul as godlessness itself. His pretence to holiness was all he clung to throughout that time in his life. It now attributed for nothing as his desire was revitalised. And now he didn't want to hide it any more. God will forgive him, if he really is a 'just' God as he had been assured by the priest that counselled him after his brother's funeral service. If this God he loved could not understand his desire to portion out a little justice for himself, then he would not be a God that Memphos wished to serve.

"As you mentioned in our last conversation," she said, driving the blade deeper to the heart so to speak, "you expressed some troubles over Ramar's stability that I also share." He looked up at her from across the table as she adorned a sympathetic smile. "I was wondering if you would like to help us start to set things right again?"

Memphos stared at her through his blazing eyes, weighing up the options ahead of him now. He knew she was a dangerous woman, and not someone he should attempt to cross. She was also clearly manipulative, as she had withheld this information from him all this time while forcing him to work with her man Ramar here on the home front. And she was most likely using him for her own purpose now. Even so he had seen the facts, however convenient to her at this time, and he was ready to give in to instinct.
"What do you want me to do?" he said darkly. She looked across the table at him and smiled again.