It was Tuesday. Tuesday was a lot of things in the lair of B. For Donna it was, well mostly another day at the office. An office where she also just happened to live.
For Donna Muffletine, secretary extraordinaire. What was more important then the fact it was Tuesday was which date and what time, exactly, you were talking about. Punctuality, neatness and facts were her bread and butter. Traits certainly appreciated by Tarja, the resident grouch. Or, perhaps not so much the grouch as the anchor that kept a boat full of crazies from shooting off into space.  It really depended on how you looked at it.
To Donna a Tuesday was a list of appointments, schedules and phone call. Or rather e-mails, as Donna tended to have a habit of wearing ball gags during work hours, making actual conversations a series of mumbles and the other party looking confused. Coupled with the eerie feeling that whatever Donna just said, was probably right.
Then there where Meetings. Sometimes a meeting was simpl

Maria Titilatia was not having a good date. Nor day for that matter.
Her date had turned out to be a setup to kidnap her. To make matters even worse, the kidnapper wasn't even handsome.
"Mmnlefguuhmmeh!!"
She shouted angrily into the hand pressed over her mouth to keep her from waking any  neighbors. She twisted her head this way and that to try and get out of his grip.
As a matter of fact her kidnapper was quite rude. So she tried biting his hand.
Which did not make his language any more polite.
"And that... is why you gag them before taking them out to the van. I told you so..."
Remarked the woman that was holding her legs as the pair carried Maria out to said van that was waiting outside the diner. Which had turned out to be in the middle of nowhere and not even open. She should have sensed trouble when her date hadn't suggested a classier place to meet.
"Agh! S-shut up and help me get the bitch inside!! She bit me!"
"I can see that. You're new at this, aren't you?"
The scruffy

The air was still heavy around the base since the attack. Friends had been lost, damages where still being repaired. People had stop placing blame on each other though over whose fault it was that they had not been better prepared. Now everyone just wanted to move on. Lisa too, was at her usual desk. At least she had a closed off room to work in peace. 'There is not even a gaping hole in the wall', Mark had said sarcastically. But nobody was laughing.
Hannah was sitting in the corner of the room, on the same bench where Mark was lying down, staring at the featureless ceiling. Although his gaze was fixed upwards, his attention was on Lisa, he could make her out at the corner of his eye. A bit blurry, but he knew exactly where she was. Now and then he could hear her clear her throat, at times it went so quiet he could even hear her breathing. He was so used to it now. Then for a moment he realized he had all but forgot about Hannah. Pushing away a sting of shame from the corner of his mi

They spent most of the next stdacy at the quartermasters office. The amount of paperwork was insane. There was also a hearing with the executive base commander. Mark didn't like him. It was a world-weary man. With cold eyes that seemed to be looking straight through him, at something far away.
Hammond and his ward were also there to give a statement. At first Mark thought the veteran praetorian might make a claim to take Hannah as his second ward. But he didn't. He probably would have been granted it over Mark if he had. But he only spoke in favor of Mark, though probably more on Lisa's behalf. Hannah was stuck on her like glue. Never letting go of Lisa's arm, as if it was an anchor that kept her from floating off into the black.
In the end the commander approved and signed the request.
"Until a new Praetorian can be called and assigned, Mark Teroidsta will hereby take full charge and responsibility as personal Praetorian of Hannah Borealis. May you keep her safe."
And so Mark swore th

Mark came running and didn't slow down even as he saw Lisa and Hannah, still on the floor. The young girl could not stop crying.
The tanned woman came up to them as well, just as Mark reached them. They both helped the two women get to their feet. It took a while before Hannah would stand up without collapsing into a sobbing heap. The senior praetorian was standing guard by the foot of the stairs, carbine at the ready.
"Her praetorian, he... didn't make it."
Lisa said, quietly. Her throat still dry. She thought her words came out like the cawing of a crow. The bearer of ill news.
"She'll have to come with us."
Mark said, as his eyes met Lisa's. With a small sigh, Lisa nodded in agreement.
"Any sign of more tinheads?"
He then said towards the older Praetorian.
"Not that I can see. But I'm not sure we got all of them. They're sneaky bastards..."
Mark knew well enough to trust the gut feeling of a veteran, they had to stay on their toes. He moved up alongside the man on guard.
"Should we

The coms all came to life at once.
"All stations! Outer walls breached! They're in the mess hall. We need backup over here!"
"This is command. Understood, but negative on that request! Hold on as long as you can, then fall back towards us. All other stations hold fast and each send two soldiers to take position on the hangar floor. We have reinforcement fighter squads on route. Over."
Then there was silence. That was all that was said over main channel.
Mark stepped forward and turned to the group.
"Who holds rank here?"
They all looked at each other.
"Frank is Sergeant..."
Someone said. No-one responded.
"Very well..."
The praetorian named Frank stepped up and started giving orders.
"Form up half circle around all wards. You, you, you and you. Start hauling those crates over there as barricades."
The women started pulling out handguns and grouped together in a corner. All but one. A young brunette with braided hair. She froze where she stood, hands opening and closing nervously.
Lisa

The siren call was loud and persistent. Mark sat up with a jerk, his eyes quickly adjusted to the red light that suddenly filled the room. He started moving instinctively. Without looking he reached for his gun and boots. All the while his mind was struggling to remember the dream he had, just moments ago. He wasn't really sure he wasn't still dreaming. He had been on a ship. Had been it's captain. Or was it first mate?
With the boots hurriedly put on, still unstrapped. He stumbled over to the other side of the room.
Lisa had knocked her chair over and was scurrying to pick her clothes up from the floor.
"How, what's going on?!"
She demanded.
"Don't know yet..."
Was all Mark could offer back. Their eyes met for a moment. She was wild eyed and worried.
"But I will find out!"
He said, more determined. Whatever it was though, it couldn't be good. He flung the carbine over his shoulder by it's strap, for long enough to kneel down and fasten his boots. Then headed straight for the door, bef

Lisa Eterström was a rank 5 enemy expert. Even field commissioned. Her entire family had been lost in the initial attack on Mars. Her knowledge of enemy behavior only surpassed by her intense hatred of them. Yet none of that showed on her face as she stared at the numbers in her monitor glasses. Only concentration. Also a hint of concern.
Mark Teroidsta could tell. He had been her praetorian guard for about a half-styecy now. He thought he knew her well. But still she persisted in calling him "Mr. Teroid". He had given up saying 'just Mark is fine you know...' long ago.
Lisa waved her hands and flicked her fingers lazily in front of her, executing commands that made new numbers scroll past her watchful eyes.
Mark was sitting back, head rested against the wall as he glanced at her in silence. His hand rested on the pulse carbine rifle lying beside him on the bench. It had not left his side since the day he checked it out from the armory depot on 624 Hektor. Even such a backwater asteroi

This is Lars Peterson, P-ID 2445609-5382-7, Chief technical advisor, class 2 on the USF Axon Four. Today is... hang on...
Ah, who cares... We've been drifting now for over five Stdacys*. Propulsion is shot to hell, I don't even want to know anymore how much oxygen we have left. All communication is broken. Bottom line is we're all pretty much dead already. This ship is our coffin, out here in nowhere. So I, eh, thought that I'd leave this recording behind. I don't know if anyone will ever hear this. Maybe there will be no one left. Just the enemy. If that's you, listening to this right now, then burn you! All of you bastards!
...anyway, I remember when this all started, about eight Styecys** ago. First contact was made on Titania. They came out of nowhere, the colony there was not prepared, there was no warning. No warning at all, and no survivors. I think it was sort of a display of strength. Leveling the entire colony to the ground. Make us fear them, what they can do. But there wher