1175/Daughters of the Sand - Prologue

Daughters of the Sand - Prologue
Date of Scene:	10 March 2016
Location:	Uminari City - Central Harbor
Synopsis:	Two young girls with a shared destiny are reunited.
Cast of Characters:	Bryony Elan, 158

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Bryony Elan has posed:
    The time is 9:30 pm, though it's hard for Nicola to keep track these days. Empty time is sometimes hard to follow; this is a routine that has perhaps gotten stale. Tutoring is in the morning, learning bits of the local language. How successful those lessons have been isn't quite clear; she hasn't had much opportunity to converse with actual Japanese people, save for the nearby convenience store clerk and a few regularly present locals along the way. In the afternoon, it's chores, though there usually isn't much work to do. Nicola's guardian, Jessamine, is a former military woman who tends toward cleanliness, so there's rarely a mess. And after that . . . just about nothing. There's usually a plan, sure, but by late afternoon, Jessamine has already left for her night shift job as an office lady, leaving Nicola alone until the early hours of the morning. Maybe Nicola follows the schedule left for her during that time. Or maybe it's not quite so easy. Boredom is a powerful thing.

    Sometimes, that same boredom, or maybe simply hunger, is relieved by trips like these. Nicola finds herself walking the few short blocks to the local convenience store. The clerk knows her well, as she doesn't often go to other stores. Jessamine doesn't allow her to go any further than this. It's not clear why. This is a residential area just a few blocks inland from the harbor, home mostly to lower income families. But even though it's poor, crime rates here are very low. The docks are a tourist destination, so the police patrol heavily, and both small-time criminals and organized gangs tend to stay away.

    The weather is thankfully pleasant. The battle at D. Point was only two weeks ago, but the skies seem to have returned to normal since then. Or maybe not normal, for Nicola. Up above, only the brightest stars shine, the rest drowned out by the ambient light of Tokyo. She has been here in Tokyo for nine months, but it's still not the sky she's used to seeing.

Nicola Esprit has posed:
rAnd thus, Nicola is making her way here, taking a little bit of the change she gets as pocket money in order to buy herself a snack and relieve her boredom. It's a trip she's done many times before, she left a note for Jessamine to let her know where she's going, and thus she feels free to take her time.

The night skies, strange and alien as they are; are getting increasingly familiar. Nicola doesn't spend much time looking at the streets, just enough to make sure she isn't running into anyone, or anything. It's in front of a traffic light that's told her she can go ahead for a while now that she stops, looking at a falling star.

Bryony Elan has posed:
    Traffic is light, and this small two-lane street is typically deserted at this hour. Aside from a few touristy motels, this part of town is home to a lot of narrow, maze-like streets which snake between medium-density residential buildings. Mostly, it's lowrise apartment buildings housing the middle and lower middle-income families of Seishou Public students. Not that Nicola has ever seen that school. She instead sees the signs of its existence every morning and every afternoon: children her age in Seishou's distinctive white uniform, leaving for school and then returning for the day. They talk and laugh; it seems, maybe, to be fun.

    She's there before she knows it. The automatic doors of the convenience store slide open, spilling white light onto the small parking lot outside. Inside, the clerk waves, adding a friendly greeting a moment later. He sometimes offers a bit of small talk; he seems bored too, working this shift.

Nicola Esprit has posed:
"Evening." Nicola's Japanese is a little stilted, her accent is quite strong; though the origins not obvious. She doesn't let it stop her, though, walking through the clerk with a smile, not letting thoughts of school or meeting girls her age bother her, "Do you have the candy I like?" Of course he does, she just can't remember the name.

Bryony Elan has posed:
    Japanese writing isn't exactly easy to decipher, either; that kind of language barrier can make a lot of things harder. "The one you usually buy?" the clerk asks, the teenage boy already making his way out from behind the counter, heading into one of the aisles. He spends a few moments tracing the rows of brightly-packaged products with a finger before his face lights up with recognition. He picks up a candy bar with a red wrapper. It looks like the right one. Heading back behind the counter, he starts ringing it up on the register. "How have you been doing?" he asks. Small talk. It doesn't seem that he particularly cares, which is perhaps sad. "One-hundred yen."

    Aside from Jessamine, Nicola probably interacts with this guy more than most other people. And she might not even remember his name.

    Her phone rings, perhaps unexpectedly. She doesn't get many calls. It's probably Jessamine. Thankfully, at the very least, Earth's technology is primitive enough to master easily.

Nicola Esprit has posed:
One hundred yen are handed over immediately, Nicola had already had the money in her hand, and she opens the wrapper. "Been okay." Or at least as okay as he's ever seen her, close enough to the truth, and as much as he's one of her few points of human contact, she can't exactly share.

When her phone rings, she says a quick, "Goodbye" before heading out, not having touched her candy bar, yet; answering her phone when outside, saying a soft, "Hi?"

Bryony Elan has posed:
    "Hey Nicola." It's Jessamine. She's trying to sound cheery, but she also seems a little tired, which is perhaps to be expected. It's not only that she's finishing a long shift. There's just a lot on her plate between her job, the handful of university courses she's taking, and taking care of a child. She might be a military woman accustomed to hardship, but even for someone with that kind of background, she's juggling a lot. That's not even getting into the occasional "day off" from work where she simply disappears, likely to do odd jobs for a particular woman.

    "You're at the convenience store?" She saw the note at home, then. That means she left work a little early for some reason, which is not a common thing for her. "I'm almost there. I'm coming to pick you up. I know it's late, but I have some good news for you." Good news? There hasn't been a lot of good news for Nicola in this last year.

    Jessamine hangs up after confirming Nicola's location. She's unintentionally rude like that sometimes, perhaps a little more used to concise squad-level communication and less to the phone etiquette of normal people. But true to her word, she arrives only a minute later. It's not far from the house, after all. She's driving her car, a entry-level four door Honda, and is still dressed in one of the business suits she wears to the office.

    "How was your evening?" More small talk. But at the very least, Nicola might have more of a chance to talk to her now.

Nicola Esprit has posed:
And Nicola doesn't really care, it's not like she has much in the way of comparison for 'normal' people behavior. She takes the minute of waiting to eat her candy bar, perhaps a little faster than she normally would. Whatever is going on, she's nervous. She's not convinced Jessamine's idea of good news is one she shares.

When the car arrives, she gets in, taking her usual seat for the rare times she gets picked up and driven around, "It was like any other evening these past months." That answers carries within it certain degrees of meaning beyond relative normalcy. Boredom, frustration, homesickness.

Bryony Elan has posed:
    Jessamine looks over at Nicola briefly as she begins to drive, pulling out of the parking lot. It looks like she's heading west, deeper into the city.

    "I know . . . " she starts. Her expression darkens slightly, sadness creeping in. "Things have been hard for everyone these last few months. And they've especially been hard for you." She has gotten better at this. Communicating with Nicola was hard for her at first, but nine months of experience have lessened that problem, at least somewhat.

    She pulls onto a main road. "We didn't want it to take this long. But things will be changing soon."

Nicola Esprit has posed:
"Changing?" Nicola asks, letting the other statements pass her by, it's not that Jessamine's good intent is doubted; just that Nicola doesn't really feel like talking about it. Jessamine knows what she thinks, there's no point in covering old ground. "What is changing?"

Bryony Elan has posed:
    Jessamine pauses there. She's hesitating. Whatever is happening, she's herself not sure what to think about it. "I'm not really sure how this will work out, but I hope . . . I think it will be for the best. I know it's hard for you, after everything that happened, but," she's going to say it again, "I'd like you to trust us." Us. She's dodging the actual question, something she usually doesn't do. "We're almost there." They're almost somewhere. As Nicola and Jessamine drift deeper into the city, the buildings around them grow taller. They're not quite as impressive as the pictures Nicola might have seen of Midchilda, but there aren't many structures like these where she's from.

    Jessamine's voice waxes a bit more hopeful as she breaks a growing awkward silence. "Keep an open mind, alright?"

Nicola Esprit has posed:
"It's not like you're giving me a choice, right?" Nicola isn't usually so bitter, but something about Jessamine's attitude tonight rubs her the wrong way, and she doesn't seem willing to play nice about it, not now. She looks out of the window, around the place. She's explored the city on google maps, she knows what it looks like, but it's one thing to go through a simulation and another to see it face to face.

Bryony Elan has posed:
    The older woman's voice shrinks. "I . . . I'm sorry." Jessamine has a habit of doing that, of backing down in situations like this, perhaps even when she shouldn't. It's not really an innate part of her personality, though. She's usually a fighter. Nicola has seen that firsthand. The first time the two of them met was back home, on that day. Jessamine didn't hesitate then. She had her orders, and she followed them.

    And maybe that's why it's so hard for her to hold her ground in moments like this. How do you confront a child whose parents you helped take away?

    The car slows and turns into a lot. This looks like the main parking area for the tall office building which towers just in front of you. "C'mon." Jessamine's door swings open, closing a moment later as she waits for Nicola to follow her, leading the younger girl into the building. There's a lobby with a polished marble floor. A security guard. A backlit directory built into a wall. It looks like this building rents out high-end office suites.

    The two of them find themselves in an elevator, their destination on the thirty-second floor. There's silence. Jessamine looks a little hurt, though it's hard to tell. Nine months later, she's still not entirely accustomed to playing guardian. She's a teenager herself, promoted early mainly because of her high magical ability.

Nicola Esprit has posed:
And Nicola feels a little guilty for her outburst, it shows, but she's not about to apologize. Instead, she lets the silence linger, following just a little behind Jessamine, her hands clasped firmly behind her back, to dissuade even any attempt at offering some kind of handholding. She's nervous, worried about what this might mean, and she doesn't want Jessamine's support.

Bryony Elan has posed:
    The elevator slows beneath the pair's feet, and the doors slide open with a subdued mechnical clatter. Jessamine almost seems nervous herself. It shows in how she walks. She doesn't slow down; she has never been the retiring type, at least not in the time Nicola has known her. Instead, her tendency is to push herself through her hesitation. Her pace picks up ever-so-slightly, the young woman walking a little faster than normal toward a polished wooden door, holding it open for Nicola before following herself.

    The two of them aren't the first ones here. ". . . really don't know," is what they hear of the conversation they interrupt.

    The furnishings inside are high-end--black leather and hardwood abound--but it's sparsely decorated, designed more for function than form. The far end of the office is dominated by a large executive desk, behind which is glass wall, allowing a view of the sleeping city beyond. Sitting at the desk is a woman Nicola knows: Captain Lindy Harlaown, though that rank might not mean much anymore. Standing here like this, with this group of people . . . This is almost reminiscent of their first meeting. Back then, it was Lindy's office on Arthra. She was telling Nicola that her father was a dangerous criminal, and that she wouldn't be able to live with him anymore.

    And standing in front of Lindy's desk is a much shorter, less imposing figure. She turns to face the new entrants before Lindy even has a chance to speak, distinctive metallic blue-flecked eyes catching the light. She smiles wide. "Nicola!" It's Bryony. Another person Nicola hasn't seen since the Arthra's destruction.

Nicola Esprit has posed:
"Bryony?" Nicola sounds happy, and runs towards the other girl. If nobody stops her, at least, to reach out for her. She is aware, of course, of the presence of the TSAB agents around here, but chooses to ignore them. "How have you been?" She doesn't reach out for a hug or anything like that, the two girls never have been that close, but Bryony is a piece of home, however small, and thus her presence cheers Nicola up.

Bryony Elan has posed:
    It's just the four of them in that room, and the two adults seem content to let the girls finish before they start speaking.

    "I've been . . . " Bryony's words start equally enthusiastic, but she trails off there, a sheepish, uncertain grin spreading across her face. "I've been OK!" she blurts out a moment later, her voice still light. She seems happy to see the other girl.

    It's Lindy that ultimately fills in the gaps, when she addresses Nicola. "Bryony was seriously injured in the crash. She has been recovering for the last several months." That's a bit vague, though maybe that's to be expected of her at this point. She hasn't ever been particularly forthcoming. "And it's good to see you, Nicola." Still, her voice is warm; someone with a different history with her might even find it maternal. She's not a harsh or cruel person. "Now that Bryony is awake, I think the time might have come to change things a bit. I'm sure you've been frustrating living in that apartment for all of these months."

Nicola Esprit has posed:
Nicola smiles when she hears Bryony has been okay, though there is a slight from when Lindy talks about what happened, and the spiel of it being good to see her makes that frown even worse. Where Jessamine gets some leeway due to familiarity and being an underling, Lindy does not.

"Yeah, it's been 'frustrating' to be an orphan." She responds to that, her voice set a little harsh. Where Jessamine got some bitterness, Lindy gets open hatred. The fact that Lindy isn't harsh or cruel doesn't change Nicola's position on the matter.

Bryony Elan has posed:
    There's bite in Nicola's words, but Lindy doesn't flinch. Her smile doesn't falter as she continues, nor does the warmth in her tone diminish. That's probably why she was the captain of her ship, and Jessamine just a young officer and her protege; Lindy's convictions are harder to shake. She seems determined to keep the tone of this conversation as friendly as possible, even if she's met with open hostility. "My own son lost his father a few years ago, and I see every day how much that hurts him. That void will never be filled in my family. I truly am sorry your father isn't here, but we are trying to do what's best for you."

    Lindy's tone softens. "When we first crashed here, I hoped I might find a way to return the survivors of the Arthra to Midchilda. Nine months later, I have to admit that my efforts so far have been a failure, and that success now seems like a truly remote possibility. For better or worse, we are trapped on this world now, together. Most of us have lost families, careers, a sense of home; we've lost many of the things that make us who we are. I can't give those things back to you."

    Her eyes drift between Nicola and Bryony. "What I can offer you is a fresh start. I don't have many resources on this planet, but I do have a few noteworthy allies, as well as a handful of operatives still loyal to me." Jessamine being one of them, if her past behavior is any indication. "With their help, I've managed to establish a proper paper trail for you both. With that accomplished, I can give you both something I think you'll like. A chance at a normal life, at least this world's version of one."

    There's a knowing glance exchanged between Jessamine and Lindy. "Now that Bryony is on her feet, I'd like her to come live with you and Jessamine, Nicola. And starting a week from now, you'll both be attending school together. I know your command of the local language isn't perfect, but you'll have a backstory to help explain that. You'll be posing as cousins, transfer students from a faraway nation who just recently arrived."

Nicola Esprit has posed:
It's good news, in a sense. A chance for a new life, Nicola already knew her old life was never coming back. Still, she can't bring herself to feel grateful, even though she's seen the girls going to and from school, so her response is a simple, "Fine." She reaches out for Bryony's hand, and then asks another question, "Where's Ruby Rose?" Her intelligent device.

Bryony Elan has posed:
    Bryony takes Nicola's hand. She seems excited, an even wider smile bubbling up on her face. She doesn't say anything just yet, though, glancing over at Nicola and seeming to read the other girl's mood, deciding now probably isn't the best moment. Her eyes instead return to Lindy as the older woman speaks.

    "A lot of the smaller debris from the crash was scattered across a very wide area. We've tried very hard to recover the devices, but we've never been able to locate Ruby Rose." She again locks eyes with Jessamine, some unspoken understanding exchanged between the two of them. "Jessamine, can you explain your housing situation to Bryony? I need a moment more to talk to Nicola."

    Bryony's expression is briefly confused as her hand slips from Nicola's, Jessamine giving Bryony a warm smile as she guides her out of the office.

    "There's something I'd like to talk to you about, Nicola."

Nicola Esprit has posed:
"You're lying." Nicola at least has the decency to wait until Jessamine and Bryony are gone to make that accusation, she folds her arms, clearly angry about that. "And Jessamine knows that you're lying." She's apparently reading that locking of eyes as meaning that, "But fine, spill."

Bryony Elan has posed:
    "We really don't have Ruby Rose, Nicola. You can ask Jessamine, if you don't trust me." That begs an uglier question, of course. Would Jessamine lie if Lindy asked her to? She certainly has been willing to hold back certain details. She never told Nicola what crimes her father was accused of, no matter how many times she was asked. But would she actually lie? It doesn't seem that she has, so far, though it's hard to tell with how little information Nicola has access to. "That's not what I want to talk to you about, though."

    Her voice grows more serious. "It's about Bryony."

Nicola Esprit has posed:
To Nicola, there is no doubt about it. She knows where Jessamine's loyalties lie, "There is no point, she'd lie for you." She keeps her arms folded like that, but doesn't seem to think there's anything to be gained from pressing the matter, "Go on? What about Bryony?"

Bryony Elan has posed:
    Lindy's eyes show a hint of disappointment, a frown on her face. "I took Jessamine under my wing because she's a woman of integrity. I don't mind if you hate me. With our history, I can understand if you feel that way. But Jessamine has done a lot for you. She cares for you." She lets out a slow breath, apparently catching herself, her usual poise returning.

    "We're both worried about Bryony." Worried? "She likely doesn't remember, but her injuries were significant, and it took her a very long time to recover. We're worried about the potential for lasting damage. She has been through a lot, and we're afraid she might do something out of character. For her own safety, if you see anything strange, you need to tell Jessamine immediately."

Nicola Esprit has posed:
Nicola doesn't bother responding to the chastising regarding Jessamine, her frown probably says enough, instead she makes one more biting comment, "So you're asking me to spy on the only person who might understand me." There's not even anger in that, not really, "I guess it's better than not getting to be around her at all."

Bryony Elan has posed:
    "I'm not asking you to spy," Lindy says sharply, her voice rising slightly. It's not a yell, but she's standing firm on this point: no conciliatory tone this time. "I'm asking you to do what's necessary to protect yourself and your family, including Bryony herself. I'm quite serious, Nicola. I wouldn't be bringing this up if it wasn't important. Do you understand?"

Nicola Esprit has posed:
"'My family?'" Nicola sounds a little sharper now, a little angrier. "You took my family from me." She then takes a deep breath to calm herself down, "If something comes up that seems worth mentioning, I will." She pauses for a moment, and then adds, "I promise."

Bryony Elan has posed:
    /You took my family from me./ Even that remark doesn't seem to faze Lindy. Instead, she stands from her chair, replying more calmly now, "That's all I ask." Slow steps bring her to the front of her desk; she lifts a folder from its surface and extends it toward Nicola. "I know you don't enjoy these conversations, so perhaps we should end our discussion here. These are your school papers, if you would be so kind as to give them to Jessamine on your way out." There's a pause that follows, before she adds one last comment. "And Nicola. I can't give you back what you lost, but you do have something here and now. The three of you share a home. A culture." Jessamine is from al-Furat too: that's the reason Lindy picked her to lead the investigation. That much, Nicola's guardian has shared. "Don't lose sight of that."

Nicola Esprit has posed:
And Nicola takes the papers, not even bothering to look through them, at least not yet, and turns around to head to the door. She's not really feeling like talking anymore to Lindy, the lecture not warranting any kind of verbal response other than, "Are we done?"

Bryony Elan has posed:
    Lindy circles back around her desk and returns to her chair, keystrokes filling the air as she returns to her prior business. Whatever else she is, her work ethic is unshakable, at least if Jessamine's sometimes glowing stories about her mentor are to be believed. Lindy's tone is flat as she replies. "That will be all."

    Outside, Jessamine and Bryony await, an animated dicussion bouncing back and forth between the two as they sit side-by-side on a bench opposite the elevator. Does Jessamine know what Lindy just asked of her? Bryony certainly seems oblivious, already having returned to the giddy demeanor she showed earlier. Why? Why is she so happy about this? Why isn't she more angry? Does she care so little about what happened to the two of them during this last year?

    Bryony is mostly silent during the drive back. Jessamine is doing most of the talking, listing off her many rules and expectations. Nicola is used to that by now. Jessamine does apply a certain degree of militaristic order to her house, at least in theory; in practice, many of those rules are not so strictly observed. It's not clear if Bryony is paying attention. Her head is turned toward her window, and she's doing perhaps too much staring at the things they're passing: at the buildings, the stoplights, the stores still open this late and their colorful signs. It's subtle, but there's a hint of wonder in her eyes. Has she not seen any of this?

    It's not long before they arrive. On the second floor of a small, two-story building is the apartment that has been Nicola's home for these last nine months. It's a smaller family-sized dwelling: not big enough to feel spacious, but not so cramped that it's claustrophobic. Perhaps a little generously, it's cozy.

    Once inside, it's commotion as Jessamine tries to settle the girls in for the night. It all seems a little strange, though. Jessamine is nothing if not a meticulous person, yet she seems to have prepared very little for Bryony's arrival. Was this really so spur of the moment?

    The questions don't disappear when the lights finally go out. Jessamine is asleep first--she's a heavy sleeper--but it's not so easy for everyone else. There's a quiet knock on Nicola's door, Bryony's voice heard from behind. "Are you awake?"

Nicola Esprit has posed:
During this time, Nicola is quiet. She's processing what's been said, what's happened, and not feeling like talking much. The meeting left her upset and somewhat angry, and Bryony probably could tell. So, when Bryony comes to her door, a response is not immediate.

Eventually, however, there is a response. "Yeah." It's soft and quiet, clearly trying to avoid drawing Jessamine's attention with illicit late-night talkings. "What's up?"

Bryony Elan has posed:
    The door opens just a crack, and Bryony slips inside, closing the door behind herself. After a few carefully quiet steps, she finds herself a spot on the floor in front of the bedroom window and sits, staring out. There isn't much of a view from here, though; the window looks out onto a quiet street, by now empty of traffic. Judging by the look on Bryony's face, she might just be trying to avoid eye contact. Her demeanor is a little different now. She's still smiling, but there's a bittersweet note to her expression. She seems to have been processing too. Maybe whatever initial rush of excitement she felt is fading now.

    "I couldn't sleep," she starts, Bryony's voice still quiet. She falls silent for several long moment, before she finally musters the wherewithal to ask, "Are you angry at me?"

Nicola Esprit has posed:
Nicola pushes herself half up, looking at Bryony. Who she'll have to start thinking of as her 'cousin' if they are to avoid too complicated questions. "I'm not, just at them." She answers, and it sounds honest. "They asked me to spy on you." She knows that isn't fair, to put it like that, but she doesn't really care.

"They say they're worried whatever happened these past few months might make you take decisions you wouldn't normally take and that it's for your good that I am." She adds at least that much, "I don't like it."

Bryony Elan has posed:
    "Oh," Bryony's voice drops like a rock; her tone grows heavy, and her smile slowly falls. She clearly wasn't expecting that, but it's not surprise or sadness on her face. It's weary resignation. "Yeah." She pauses, thinking, eventually forcing a now-fake smile back onto her face. "Maybe that's a good idea." That fake smile doesn't last beyond those few words. "Why tell me that? How do you know they're not right about me?"

Nicola Esprit has posed:
Nicola sighs, looking away again. "Why should I care?" She asks, sounding just a little bit bitter. "They've taken my father, my device, my home; and then they think they can put me in a house with one of them, ask me to spy on you, and then call that family."

Bryony Elan has posed:
    "What are we, then?" Bryony asks, a hopeful note creeping back into her voice. "We're at least a fake family, and that doesn't sound too bad to me. Right?" It doesn't even sound like she has convinced herself, though. "It's better than . . . " And she stops there.

    "Do you think it's true? What they're saying about parents?"

Nicola Esprit has posed:
"I hope friends." Nicola answers, smiling faintly when she says that. Reaching out for Bryony, "The two of us, at least." That other question makes her raise an eyebrow, and she seems to have no clue what Bryony is talking about, "What are they saying?"

Bryony Elan has posed:
    Bryony takes Nicola's hand, squeezing briefly. "That they were dangerous outlaws. That they're . . . " Dead? That's certainly what Nicola has been told: that her father's body was never recovered, but he very likely didn't survive the crash. It all sounds like it's news to Bryony, though, like it's still fresh and raw.

    But then she smiles wide again, somehow, Bryony's eyes hopeful once more. "I asked them, though. They said our parents were being held in stasis pods on the Arthra. They said the chance of a pod surviving re-entry is less than 5%. But they never recovered them, right? So there's a chance, right?" Her voice grows quieter, almost a whisper now. "I'm going to believe. I think we're going to meet them again, and this time, it will be different." Different from what?

    Bryony doesn't elaborate; she seems to have gotten what she needs. She rises, her step a little lighter, a burden seeming to have been lifted from her shoulders. "Thank you for talking to me. I'm going to go to bed." She turns briefly to face Nicola, eye to eye. "I . . . I hope we can be friends too." And with a few more careful steps, she quietly slips out from Nicola's bedroom, returning to her own.

    The night ends there for those two girls. A block away, though, a person who should be sleeping walks restlessly down a quiet side street, nervously dialing a number on a very special phone.

    The phone rings on the other end: once, then twice, and then someone picks up. "Hello Jessamine." It's Lindy's voice. "Are they asleep? Is everything alright? I thought we agreed we should have minimal contact for now, to avoid tipping our hand."

    "I don't like this. This plan isn't right."

    "It's the only choice we have. We can't keep them hidden away forever. I meant what I said. They deserve a fresh start. They deserve a childhood."

    "And what if something goes wrong? Are you really OK with this, captain?"

    "Something will go wrong, lieutenant, whether we do this or not. This is the only way to have it happen on our terms."