No time for hesitation.
I flung out two streams of energy.
The first stopped the path that would have had me colliding with the others and created a new trajectory, pushing me directly towards the advancing pink.
The second grabbed ahold of said pink, disarming and dragging him sharply in my direction.
Hoejo barely blinked at the invisible force that had redirected his body, simply swinging his feet towards me, talons extended and razor sharp.
Before we had the chance to clash, I again altered his direction from falling at an angle towards me to diving directly down.
He let out a cry as he met the ground, a sickening snapping could be heard as one of his legs was crushed beneath his own weight.
My eyes instinctively squeezed themselves shut as I suppressed the wave of nausea that threatened to erupt from my stomach.
Not keeping them closed for more than a heart beat, I turned my attention to the others.  Content that my own prey was immobile enough under the energy that was keeping him in place, I was able to risk turning my attention to the progress of my companions.
Ishni and Bernard were standing above Robavia, one of her wings has been twisted into an unnatural and clearly broken position by Ishni’s left foot.
Bernard was hugging his right shoulder, blood trickling from beneath his fingers.
Yet they had been victorious; their opponent was out of commission and they were both still standing.
“How’s it going down there?” I called out whilst lowering myself to the ground.
“A few scratches and bruises, but we’ll survive,” the cheerful tone of Ishni’s voice lifted my spirits as my feet found the floor.
Maintaining a safe distance from where Hoejo was laying unnervingly still, I went and picked up the discarded baton.
There were three buttons on the handle; plasma shot, electric shock and directional e.m.p. (otherwise know as ranged, melee and support options)
My thumb hovered between the plasma and shock options as I released the main pressure that was keeping the first mate pinned.
I stood, staring down at him.  Any fool could see that he was conscious, my mind told me that he was waiting for another chance to strike at me.
If you’re gonna continue to play dead like that, we are going to here for a while,” I said to him, “perhaps I should just get our doctor to bring us a sedative?”
The sigh that heaved throughout his body caused his feathers to ripple as though catching the wind.  His form, which had been rigid, relaxed to the floor.
Raising his head to meet my gaze, he smirked, “can’t blame me for trying.  I probably could use a visit from the doctor though.”  He shifted his weight to bring out his left leg.
It had several more joints than it should have.
It was a stretch to stop myself from falling to my knees and begging his forgiveness.  Never before had I caused as severe an injury to another living being.  I think the closest confrontation I have ever had, that even bordered on being a fight, was when I traded a few slaps with Martie over watching Neighbours (which was repeated later in the day) and Buffy (which was a repeat that I had missed the day before).  The fallout of which was a couple of slightly reddened arms.
“Sorry,” I adopted my most convincing nonchalant tone, “that wasn’t my intention.  The pain’s not too bad is it?”
“I’ve got medi-bots,” he shrugged, then cocked his head, “it seems we’ve underestimated you, Miss MacPhaid.  Although, to be fair, the level of power you have is ridiculous, literally no one should have that much power.”
Not far off to my right, a seat was crying out for me to sit down.  I resisted with every fiber in me knowing that the moment that I relaxed, I would not be getting back up for a long while.
“I can’t say that I disagree with you,” I admitted whilst shifting my weight from one foot to the other, then back again, “and yet here we are.  Now, are you going to comply or do I have to restrain you all the way to a cell?”
His eyes went to his companion who genuinely looked like he wanted to do nothing except simply sleep.
I could sympathize.
‘tac-tic-tac’
Hoejo tapped one of the talons of his good foot on the ground.
I could not help but think back five lals to where I was tapping my own fingers, trying to make decisions of my own.  The gravity that came with the realization that I had induced even the mildest state of anxiety within this undoubtedly cleaver and dangerous creature before me was heavier than I was comfortable with.
He took in a deep breath before closing his wings so that they folded onto his back, the joints which had single, large talons bent down so they became like shortened arms.
“I submit.  Do what you will with me, however,” his head dipped, an intense look appearing in his eyes as he all but snarled at me, “don’t make the mistake in thinking that this is over.”
The look that I shot back indicated that I was not an idiot, “oh really?  And here I was thinking that your captain would take this opportunity to retire or even hand himself in.  Is that not what’s going to happen?”  I felt another rush of relief that sarcasm was a translated tone, had it been otherwise, ninety percent of the words out of my mouth would have been very confusing to a lot of beings.
He smiled, cocked his head for the umpteenth time and remained silent.

The tension that floated between the five beings that took the lift back out towards the med-bay would have taken far more than a knife to cut.
Ven had been monitoring all of the proceedings.  As we entered the capsule with the two crew members, it registered us and reinstated the communication system.
As per my request, it waited until we were secured inside the lift before it reacquired control of the flight deck.  Deia had brought Eleoca to meet us.  I had suggested that each of us rely on the doctor that we knew to deal with any medical concerns.
We all went together to the med-bay.  Both pinks would be treated in the cells that were attached to the facilities whilst Bernard’s arm was treated in the blink of an eye with a clean and a sheet of medical plasma to seal the wound.  Ishni remained as an escort to their doctor, whilst Deia returned with me to the passenger quarters.  There were only spaces for ten occupants, we would be needing many more for the humans in confinement.  Tallou took Desmosa and Bernard to investigate the crew’s quarters in the hub of the ship.
The pink that I can sealed into a cell by completely mangling the lock had acquired a neighbour in the form of Hetu, a kaplo who was in the form of a sheenar. 
Reopening the damaged door was impossible with simple manipulation and I wound up breaking it further and forcing it open.
The occupant of the cell moved without any fuss or unnecessary words, into his new cage.  However he kept his eyes directly upon me the entire time.  I am not sure whether it was some form of intimidation or pure wonder at what I was capable of.  Either way, all that I could do was to ignore his gaze to the extent that I almost walked into the edge of the door.

Every twenty cells or so, there was a food and drink dispensary area.  The only options available were the cubes water that I had been given whilst I was locked away.
As it turned out, what was dispensed there was one-hundred percent recycled.  No decent supplies were wasted on the captives or criminals.
We located a trolley and piled it high with food and drink from the passenger quarters.
For almost fifty units, the human beings on board the Venanth-Nepha had eaten and drunk nothing that had not been recycled from themselves.
Whilst being perfectly hygienic and nutritious, it was still no way to exist for so long.
I was determined that they would not have to eat such things again for the foreseeable future.
Rather disappointingly, the passenger quarters held nothing particularly exciting; a few grain based products with flavourings and a heated drink which could be very lightly likened to coffee.
Deia informed me that no one had woken up yet, therefore we both spent a little while preparing and cooking what we could before rolling it the full mile back around to where they were being held.
At the end of that row of cells was an open room with a few seats and tables.  Ven confirmed that it had been used for inquests or as a break room as it was needed.
Whilst Orthus and Deia set out the food, I began to look through the manifesto that Ven had provided.
A list of the names of the eighteen human beings that occupied the cells ahead of us.
Most of the names were people who I had not seen for years or did not know at all; a customer from when I worked at the cinema, the partner, parent or friend of a friend.
There were, however, two names that stood out.
The first was my aunt, Caitlin MacPhaid.  She was actually my mum’s cousin, but we would always refer to her as auntie Caitlin, because first cousin once removed Caitlin could be a bit of a mouthful.  With somewhat of an abrasive personality, most people’s first impressions of her were rarely positive.  However, once you got to know her, you would come to understand the generosity of her heart and the mirth from her crisp sense of humour.
After I had just finished university and landed my one and only job in the media industry, she was living in London and so gave me a place to stay until I could find my own situation.  It was not actually that much closer, however because it was connected by the London Underground network, it was substantially cheaper than staying at my mum’s house and having to catch a bus and a train each way.
As one of the few remaining MacPhaids with a genuine Scottish accent, she was one of the few people who I could answer the phone to.  That was purely due to the sound of hearing “hullo” as a greeting, which was apparently a great novelty to tiny me.
My main concern for her was that she had M.E. (myalgic encephalomyelitis), a condition that could cause mild to severe pain and fatigue due to the body’s inability to recover after expending even small amounts of energy.
Not that she could have had much to do, having been shut in a cell for such a long amount of time.  However my knowledge of the condition was not enough to even guess at how she would be in body or mind after such an extended confinement.
The second name on the list was more of a nuisance than a relief.  Not that I would wish him to still be misplaced, I had simply always had trouble interacting with him.
Spencer McCormick was Julie’s ex-boyfriend.
A terribly condescending and stuck up guy, he was challenging to hold a conversation with.  Throughout their relationship, Julie would flip-flop between defending her friends to him, as it was far from just me who found him grating, and arguing with us about him.  For those several years, there grew a rift between us.  It was during this time that she had fallen out of friendship entirely with Phoebe.  I managed to maintain a safe distance thanks to my anxiety refusing to let me be in the same space as him for extended periods.
At the inevitable conclusion of their relationship, Julie came to realize just how much she had changed under his influence and as she found her way back into her own soul, we grew closer again.  After a few years of occasional random meetings, we began hanging out regularly again.
All of that had happened more than half a decade ago.  I had no idea of what sort of personality he had grown into.
I had no intention of expending too much energy to find out.
Over the next few auxes, one by one, each of the eighteen woke up.
Orthus and Deia were the first faces they saw.  Deia checked them over to make sure no one was ill or suffering in any way, whilst Orthus explained what had happened.  They both brought them down to where I waited to offer them food and drinks.
The first few avoided looking at me directly.  Those who looked at me seemed to have one expression to show me. 
“Your fault.”
None said it out loud, however I could see it flow from their eyes, hear it in the empty silence that poured out of their mouths, feel it in the twitches of their bodies as they avoided contact with me.
The moment that aunt Caitlin approached me, it were as though my heart were trying to force its way up my throat.  My lips began to wobble, my breath caught and a line of tears began to roll down my right cheek.
It was the first time that I was seeing that look on a human’s face.  I had observed it coming from practically every other being that I had come into contact with, yet humanity had never held any for me.  They were to angry or upset to even consider it.
Yet there it was, plastered across that woman’s face.
Pity.
She came straight to me and pulled me into her scrawny embrace as I dissolved into sobs.
“I’m sorry,” her voice was so coarse that I could almost feel the shape of her words, her accent softened by a life lived in London.  “No matter what,” she pulled away, hands gripping my shoulders, “it is not your fault.  None of it.  No matter what anyone says.  Do you understand me?”
Overwhelmed by the sudden onslaught of emotions, the exhaustion that had been slowly creeping back into my body, finally caught up with me.
My legs gave and I collapsed to my knees.
I had to clasp my hand over my mouth to muffle the sobs that continued to erupt.
My other hand was pressed to the floor to stop me from falling completely.
The next few lals were a blur.
I was aware of bodies moving around me.
I was lifted from the ground and taken to somewhere dark and soft where I fell into a deep fitful sleep.

I awoke in the darkness and I have been here ever since; writing everything down before I could forget it.
Once I leave this place I will be forced to face people and the future, so I shall continue to sit here and attempt to muster the courage that I will need to be the person that can withstand the looks in their eyes.
I may be here for a while.