The science fiction rollplay for members of Flight of Fancy.
Slicer Darian Drake kept his head lowered as he rushed through the halls, avoiding the Slicers swarming around him and trying desperately to avoid notice.
He slammed into a body moving in the opposite direction he was heading and crashed to the floor, looking up furiously if not a little groggily. "What in all of damnation are you doing? Watch where you're going!"
Blesser Zalla smiled and winked at him. "I say the same to you, Slicer." she said as she regained her footing and dashed past him. Cursing, Darian stood and dusted himself off.
"Slicer! Why are you standing around?" Darian cursed and his commander cleared a path among the Slicers to stand directly before him.
"What's all the hussel for, sir?" Darian asked as he stood and rubbed his backside. "If I may ask."
"You may ask but you should know already!" Commander Vorian Sanderson leaned forward and studied Darian's face. "Where are you coming from and where are you headed?"
Darian winced. The lie came easily to his lips. "The baths, sir and I was heading to the dining hall."
Vorian grimaced and snarled. "Blesser Trine is missing. That is all we know. We are looking for her currently."
"Blesser Trine Anderson?"
"Do you know of any other?"
Darian smiled. Trine had just entered the holding bay of the ships. He was almost certain he could point out the very ship she had climbed onto with two Summoners in tow.
"No, sir." Darian's smile broadened.
"Wipe that dull witted smile from your face and get to your post. NOW!" Vorian turned on his heel as the smile on Darian's face was replaced with a dark scowl.
"Well I'll be damned if I tell anyone where the Blesser is now, sir," he said coldly as he turned down a nearby hall and disappeared into a small room.
"Mystic and Zalla on the same ship? That won't be pleasant..." Sebille mused as she settled herself in a seat.
"This isn't a pleasure cruise, Summoner," Chrysth growled as he flicked the same switch off that he had flicked on moments before. "Buckle up."
"Trine," Saffire moved to her side, Chrysth's eyes narrowed. "Where are we heading?"
With effort, Trine tore her eyes from the panel before her and looked at Chrysth, who shrugged. "You're the one with all the insight, Blesser." he said coldly.
"Set a course for-"
"Don't finish that sentence, Blesser Anderson. You are in direct violation of Protector orders. Stand down."
Slowly, Trine and Chrysth turned and faced the newcomer. A tall man in Blesser robes with a stun gun trained on Trine alone, black eyes on Chrysth. Saffire stiffened.
A beam of light flashed from behind him, slicing through the robes and rendering the man unconscious.
"Too much?" Zalla asked as she glanced around behind her. "Where do we hide the body?"
"Leave that to me," Saffire growled as he hefted the man and headed down the landing plank.
"Is Mystic here yet?" Zalla asked as she stepped up to Chrysth.
"No...and she better hurry because you and I are even."
Zalla's face darkened as Saffire reentered. "He radioed before he came in. We're soon going to be overrun."
"She'll be here...she will." Zalla began pacing.