Eirik's head was pounding like the Terran military tattoo band was having a practice session inside of his skull. He tried sitting up as he slowly opened his eyes but found himself restrained. He started panicking for a second until he remembered he was sitting in a small ship, strapped into the captain's chair. His eyes were swimming and he blinked a few times to, trying to get the world back into focus. He reached up and clicked the release mechanism on his chest, releasing the straps keeping him in the chair. Slowly rising from the seat, he realized the ship was slanting. and the windowed top was covered in dirt. He hoped the escape hatch in the back was still able to open, but if not he would still find a way out. Even if he had to dig through a damn mountain!

He took a moment to go over himself, looking for any injures, but beyond the expected bruises from the harsh landing, there was only a gash in his head. It didn't feel that big when he ran his fingers along the edge and he started looking for basic equipment and supplies. Some painful disinfectant (gods only knew why they still made it sting) and some gauze fixed the wound well enough for the time being. He located the small backpack stashed for this very purpose and started gathering everything he would need. Water, food, emergency medical supplies, His seax, and... Eirik's eyes fell on the small sidearm tucked away at the bottom of the emergency storage

"Better safe than sorry." He thought to himself and equipped the shoulder holster under his jacket. He grabbed a rebreather and equipped it before he opened the escape hatch. Only half covered with dirt. It would be a fairly quick job to get out.

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Ulla had receieved the general warning coming from Eirik's territory and had lurked around on the outskirts of the border, waiting for news. When the message came through that the pirates had been chased away, she immediately set course for the space station. It didn't take long for her to arrive, but at that point, Eirik had already started his pursuit of Dalle. Ulla had no idea, of course, she just wanted to make sure everyone she knew was okay. The severity of the attack was made clear as she approached the station. Debris from countless ships hung in space around thestation, mixed in with the unfortunate crew on board the destroyed ships.

The area she usually used had almost everything blown away, except the landing areas, all the defenses and countermeasures against an attack, simply gone. She found a place to dock, quite a ways away from where she usually parked, but she needed to dock.

The first thing that struck her, was the signs of heavy battle centered around the heart of the station. There were still heavy concrete barriers in place, covered in the dried blood of pirate an defender alike The pockmarked walls, suffering the damage of stray bullets, the partially destroyed sandbags and the spent brass shells that was still being swept up.

She had not made it far into the station before she was approached by a few of the station's security forces, "Ma'am, if you wouldn't mind following us, please. Right this way,"

"And why should I?" Ulla asked, ready to fight this. She was not the type of person to simply accept being taken away.

"There are certain areas that are still off-limits until proper cleaning have been completed. As such, we found it easier to lead newcomers around. It is the preferable choice to having angry visitors that cannot find their way around." one of the guards explained and gestured for her to follow them.

Figuring it was better than looking around herself, Ulla followed them and quickly found herself at her desired destination, the station commander's office.But the guards watching the door refused her entry. "The station commander is not present at the moment, please return later." Was all she was told, but before she could get started on a tirade, she heard a voice call out from behind.

"ULLA!" She turned around and saw Freja approaching with a big smile on her face.

"FREJA!" she boomed out as she turned to greet her friend, not noticing the looks of relief on the faces of the guards. "What in bowels of hell happened here?"

Freja had reached Ulla and gave her a big hug before she replied. "Dalle happened. He brought a fleet of pirates, no doubt hoping to ransack the empire and stick it to Eirik." There was a slight pause as Freja seemed unable, or unwilling, to continue. "Eirik is chasing him as we speak." The bitterness in her voice was obvious and Ulla was more than a little confused. Freja had never been against Eirik seeking out battle.

"What has changed, since you no longer support his fights?" Ulla asked.

Freja didn't answer, instead folding her hands protectively over her stomach and the gesture was not lost on Ulla. "Wait, seriously?" She asked Freja who simply nodded. "THAT'S GREAT NEWS!! I am so happy for the both of you!" Ulla all but squealed, a rather unsettling sight, considering Ulla's size. Moments later Freja disappeared under the enormous embrace of Ulla and chose to accept fate. It wasn't like she could stop the giant woman, even if she wanted to. Ulla immediately started leading Freja away while babbling on about the pregnancy. Freja didn't hear a word that was said, she was busy thinking about Eirik.

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Dalle woke up to a burning pain in his left arm. He was not sitting in the captain's seat, instead, he found himself sprawled out on the floor. Looking over, he saw his arm looking fairly normal, but any attempt to move it, shattered the illusion of it being okay. The pain sent waves of fires through his nerves every time he moved the arm, but he had to know the extend of the damage. Agonizingly slow, he rolled the sleve up past the elbow and was hit by a wave of nausea.

The arm had kept its shape, but the visible dent in his arm told him the bone had been shattered on impact. He effectively had 2/3 of a bone in his arm at this point, with a nice big space right in the middle There was nothing he could do about an injury like that, except try to manage the pain through medication, but the only drug on the ship was morphine. If he took too much, he would fall asleep again, and Eirik would surely find him. He had to get moving!

Grabbing the medication and stuffing it into his jacket pocket, alongside a single canteen of water, he went to the escape hatch and opened it up.

"Thank fuck it's not covered in dirt. With this arm, I would never have been able to dig myself out." He thought to himself and he left the small ship and chose a random direction to start walking. He could see some large hills on the horizon and he made them his target. Hills were better than flatlands, and there was a chance he could find refuge in a small cave or something akin to it. He needed time to figure something out. Maybe he could make a splint to fixate the wounded arm. That would take a lot of the pain away.

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It didn't take Eirik that long to dig enough dirt away from the escape hatch to squeeze himself out of the ship. The first thing he did, was crawl on top of his ship, trying to get a better look at his surroundings. He saw mostly flat plains, large hills in on the horizon, and... THERE! A tiny sliver of smoke in the distance, roughly in the travel direction of his and Dalle's ships as they crashlanded. He quickly made his way down to the ground and headed in the direction of the smoke trail at a light jog.

As he moved through the landscape, Eirik realized he was running out of breath far quicker than he expected, but he chalked it up to the atmosphere only barely supporting life as they knew it. He would have to pace himself and as a result, he stopped jogging and changed to a fast walk. It wouldn't do to catch up to Dalle and be out of breath.

As time passed, the smoke trail slowly grew closer, much slower than Eirik had thought. Maybe he had miscalculated the distance? In any case, he kept up his trek across the plains. There was nothing in the universe that was going to stop him, not now that he was so close!

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Mads was staring at the screen, waiting for his brothers to agree with them that they would not wait in orbit around the planet where Eirik went down. It didn't take long, as they were driven by their hunger for revenge, perhaps even more so than Eirik. While he had grieved his lost family, he had the freedom to work through it. They never had that luxury. They had lived, knowing their family was out there, presuming them dead. Through torture, both physical and mental, deprivation of basic needs, sleep deprivation, malnutrition and disease, only having each other to rely on.

Sure, they could have obtained what they needed, if they would only have fought in the arena that the Plyxii were so proud of. Amongst Plyxii, it was a place to spar and train. Any injury was severely punished as it showed a lack of restraint and respect for the arena. But prisoners also fought there. Fighting to secure basic prisoner rations or life saving medicine was the only way to keep strong and healthy as a prisoner among the Plyxii. There was no direct force, but certain things were withheld if you refused.

As soon as they had all agreed, they fired up the engines of their ships and approached the last registered location of Eirik. They would spread out once they entered the atmosphere and start actively scanning the planet below, uncaring of who or what discovered them. They were past that point.

It would still be a couple of hours before they were in position, but they had faith in Eirik's ability to stay alive, despite the odds.

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Dalle cursed loudly as he heard his stomach growl. He should have grabbed more supplies, but he was still dazed from the pain and the morphine he had had not helped lift the fog surrounding his mind. Even if he momentarily forgot what he was running from, he knew that he needed to keep running. Just keep running.

After what felt like hours his legs were burning and his lungs felt like they were about to burst out of his chest. He had to stop and take a breather. Kneeling down to try and get his body to relax, it hit him just how hard he was struggling to breathe. He couldn't keep running, he would have to slow down.

His stomach rumbled once more, reminding him that he had not eaten since before the last attack, and he had been on edge ever since that attack began. Whatever he had eaten before was already long gone. He looked around but saw nothing edible at a glance, so he grabbed a handful of grass and stuffed it into his mouth. It would not be very nutritious, but it would give him a sense of having something in his stomach.

A pang of anger hit him as the thought rushed through his head. Eirik had taught him this, citing that Terrans during the medieval period would do this during famines. After the first mouthful, his body wanted more, the feeling of food filling up his belly too much to ignore, so he had to extend his breather in order to consume enough grass to not feel hunger anymore.

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Eirik was impatient. He could see the wreck of Dalle's ship further ahead and he wanted to sprint there, but who knew if the slimy bastard was laying in ambush? So he approached at a fast walk, one hand on the seax and the other holding the gun he had drawn from the shoulder holster. He was not about to risk anything, not now. He didn't even get all the way to the ship before he realized, Dalle was gone. The prints in the ground told their story and Eirik simply changed direction and followed the trail left by Dalle

He kept up the pace, making sure to take small sips of water and the occasional bite of a ration during his trek. Better to just maintain than sit down and get a full belly which would only serve to slow him down and make him tired. As he continued tracking his prey, he kept an eye on the tracks. The further he followed them, the more unsteady the steps became. The distance between them shortened and they started becoming deeper near the toes, instead of near the heels.

All these signs told him that Dalle had been running, but was slowing down, most likely burning out on the light atmosphere. Eirik still had his rebreather but he did not want to use it unless he had to. It would be a good ace to have up your sleeve if anything went wrong. Eirik moved his gaze from the ground in front of him, to look further ahead. He was getting close now and he wanted to see Dalle as soon as possible. He was soon rewarded with the sight of Dalle, kneeling in the grass, stuffing his mouth to the best of his ability.

"The idiot left his food rations behind." Eirik decided and kept walking. Sure, he could shout at him and start running, but that would lead him on a chase that would take the wind out of the both of them, making the coming fight uncertain. As he got closer, he noticed Dalle was only using one arm to eat grass, holding the other one close to his chest in a protective manner.

As if something had alerted Dalle, he suddenly snapped his head up and locked eyes with Eirik. Before Eirik managed another step, Dalle jumped up and started running again. With a shake of his head, Eirik picked up the pursuit at a much more reasonable pace. He would catch up soon enough. "I got you now you little shit!" He thought with an evil grin as he took another bite of a ration bar.