--5 Days before the coup at the Throneworld--<br/><br/>The<i>Aurora</i>decoupled from the much larger Jumpship and drifted away at the behest of several puffs of compressed air from her maneuvering thrusters. The spot along the cylindrical spine of the Jumpship sat vacant only long enough for the unremarkable human designed vessel to clear away before another craft was slotted into place.<br/><br/>The center of the Empire was, as one might expect, a veritable hub of commerce, travel, and military might. Entire parades of corporate tankers and haulers spun an almost never-ending rope outwards from the home planet of Serill towards the many dozens of Jumpship transit points located just outside the star’s gravitational influence. Military transports loaded with troops and supplies trundled along with these giant haulers, as well, on their way to some active front or training expedition. Private craft of all shapes and sized zipped around these slow-moving and bloated behemoths while seeking to claim the first available Jumpslot, no matter the price. Most were of the sleek Serilline design that dominated much of the Empire at large.<br/><br/>Built for function and not form, the<i>Aurora</i>stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the more sophisticated spacecraft. Not a minute personal yacht but still far too small to be considered a hauler, the humble craft was merely designated as a ‘transport shuttle’ with ties to the Terran Commonwealth. No regalia or insignias had been painted along her gunmetal grey hull and streaks of black marred the location of arms or meteor impacts. Boxy and angular, the<i>Aurora</i>fit the human’s design philosophy almost to a T.<br/><br/>Unassuming as the vessel might be, the two Serilline Torchships that flanked her as she dove deeper into the system were much more vociferous by contrast. Officially, they had merely been provided by the Lady Sovereign as a gesture of grace to ensure their guest arrived safely and without molestation.<br/><br/>--Entering Throneworld atmosphere. Three hours before coup--<br/><br/>Aodha’s feet sat crossed over one another and propped up over the navigations console as he lounged back into the worn leather of the pilot's chair. Beside him, the copilot's seat sat empty with an array of colorful buttons and screens blinking away silently. The viewport before him had all but been swallowed by the majestic Throneworld greenery and sculpted mountains. Several of the large palace-like complexes and Glass Towers jutted out from the surface like the fingers of some great giant and broke up the patches of golden savanna and emerald jungle with glinting silvers and greys.<br/><br/>It made for quite the sight, this the male could not deny, but it was one he’d seen going on a dozen times at this point. The grandeur was still there but the awe had waned enough that Aodha could pick out the more mundane features. Buildings whose function he could only but guess at, mainly, but also the varied architecture that made up said constructions. The Serilline were an old bunch, after all, and he doubted very much they’d built the paradise moon in the span of a single lifetime. Even that of their own venerable lifespans was, no doubt, insufficient to complete such a project.<br/><br/>The<i>Aurora</i>moaned quietly around him as her hull endured the full brunt of the moon’s atmosphere. The cabin rattled and vibrated enough to jostle Aodha in his seat but it was hardly the worst reentry the craft had undertaken and he’d been sure to store everything away long before this point. Back in the hold his cargo were all strapped into their chairs and talking quietly amongst themselves. They’d all had their last meal some hours before in the mess, almost cleaning out the last of<i>Aurora</i>’s supplies, but Aodha felt it the only proper to send his kind off; even if it was just a bunch of dehydrated ration bars and protein pastes.<br/><br/>The processing center was a nondescript little building tucked away in what looked like a greater spaceport from the air. His designated port had been cleaned and the shuttered roof had opened as the<i>Aurora</i>approached and swallowed the vessel as it passed into the bay and hissed into place on landing gear amongst the cavernous hangar.<br/><br/>Kicking his feet off the console, Aodha pushed himself to his feet and stretched his arms above his head. Turning, he marched down the short corridor into the common area of his ship and jumped a short set of stairs to the cargo hold. Along the right side boxes were stacked three and four high while the left contained the caged human slaves fresh from the Terran homeworld. A dozen female and a dozen male. All under the age of 25, from a varying of backgrounds, and all equally attractive by almost any being’s standards; most importantly the Serilline’s.<br/><br/>Pressing a button by the base of the stairs Aodha opened the cargo ramp that ran along the underbelly of the ship’s spine. Hydraulics whined and gears rumbled for less than a minute before the incline settled into place along the hanger’s floor and six Serilline guards came trundling up with their magistrate trailing along the middle.<br/><br/>“Your shipment is late by three standard days, Captain.” Rolled the smooth, if somewhat rough, voice from the charcoal-skinned behemoth of a Serilline officer. Even Aodha, who stood just over six feet even, had to look up to meet her ruby bright eyes.<br/><br/>“Like I told the Emissaries seven times by now,” Aodha started with a shrug of his shoulders, “I can’t exactly move cargo when my engines are two cycles off from becoming a new planetary nebula.” He lifted his arms and cross them over his chest, trying to keep his eyes from wandering across the woman’s body.<br/><br/>Grunting, the woman turned to address her cadre before they paraded over to where the slaves were and began to run down their checklists. Everything had been registered and cataloged already but the Serilline were anything if not fastidious; doubly so when it came to their damned charts of slaves.<br/><br/>When they were satisfied, the cage was opened and the humans were herded out with a few stern barks and prods. Though, none of the captives resisted more than the token hesitation expected of their servitude. For many, Aodha knew, they had been all but pulled from the depths of Hell and lives that were far less glamorous than serving the most powerful of the Empire. What did it matter that one forfeited their dignity in the process?<br/><br/>“We will now search your ship, Captain.” The lumbering female officer added as more men in bright red robes climbed up the ramp and into his ship before fanning out into pairs of two. “Is that going to be a problem?”<br/><br/>Knowing when to keep his mouth shut, Aohda shrugged his shoulders again. “Have at it, darling. Just leave me some toilet paper at the least, eh?” After all, what was he going to do? Stop them? In the middle of the Throneworld slave processing plant, of all places. As shakedowns went, it could hardly have been the worst he’d been subjected to and most of his supplies were out, anyway.<br/><br/>Before the guardswoman could retort, however, a distant ‘<i>boom</i>’ echoed across the expansive hanger space and up the landing struts of the<i>Aurora</i>; a sensation that was felt more than heard. Everyone, Aodha included, went quiet before an alarm from inside the hanger began to blare in the standard monotone wailing that seemed to transcend racial boundaries. Without hesitation, the guards all charged out of the hanger as the officer woman shouted orders over the shrill cacophony of sirens.<br/><br/>Aodha half jogged down the ramp and into the hanger bay proper to try and ascertain what, exactly, was going on. Just as his feet touched the soft marbled flooring another explosion of the same variety rocked the building; only this time it imparted sufficient force to stagger the human mid-stride and almost trip him over.<br/><br/>“What in the fuck?” He yelped aloud as he caught himself on one of the support arms from his ship. Dust drifted down lazily from the ceiling overhead as the aftershocks from the blast continued to reverberate within the steel and concrete edifice. Then, the power flickered off with little more than a ‘cthunk’ followed by tyrannical quiet. Aodha expected some sort of back up power to kick on immediately but nothing kicked over after a heartbeat. Then two. Three.<br/><br/>It was then that Aodha could make out the unmistakable, if distant and muffled, weapons fire. Smaller explosions punctuated the harsh burps of semi-auto volleys that all muddled together into a chaotic disjointed clamor that reminded Aodha of one of the food riots he’d been in the middle of some years prior.<br/><br/>Growling at his luck, Aodha ran along the underbelly of the<i>Aurora</i>and pulled open one of the external access hatches set into the side of the ship. The screen winked on a glowed a dull featureless green as white text scrolled across the surface and cast his face in a ghostly pale distinction.<br/><br/>It was at this moment, while Aodha was still navigating his way into<i>Aurora</i>’s subroutines that he heard erratic footfalls closing in from his right. Turning, he half faced the unexpected woman while one hand remained to hold the corner of the access terminal open.<br/><br/>A single brow lifted at the demand and, if it weren’t for the general mayhem unfolding all around, Aodha might even have laughed; definitely would have laughed. “And miss this lovely...whatever the hell is going on?” He remarked back with a snide growl, turning back towards the computer screen. “And, in case you haven’t noticed, there’s a little problem of the hangar bay doors being closed.”<br/><br/>Pulling out a wire, sending a shower of sparks out from the console, Aodha twisted it with another between his teeth. “So, why don’t you run along and find someone else to powder you little rump, eh? Us big folk have better things to do. Like not get vaporized by an explosion!”