Swift sat comfortably in a large chair, bundled within great swathes of heavy fabric. He'd been staring intently at a little container on his lap, sorting at small metal bits with his good arm. He paused from his task and looked up, and his face lit up with recognition. "Fiy," he exclaimed, his voice a heartbreaking wheeze. Breaking into a fit of coughing strong enough to disturb the contents of his work, the older man had to break off before saying anything further.

Fire-Eater hastened to close the small distance between them, catching the container as it began to slip from the grey and brown mass of blankets over Swift's lap. She set it down on the floor after giving it a brief glimpse--beads, most of them in all different shapes and sizes--and kneeled beside her old first mate, waiting for him to regain his breath. "How you doing, old man?" She asked, taking his hand as he lowered it, giving his gnarled knuckles a tight squeeze. He responded in kind, though his grip was weak enough to give her worry.

"You know never to ask old folks that," he chastised, his aged face (my god, it was as if he'd gained years--not months--on his life...) lifting in a mocking grin. "I'm all right. Those damn kids are going to give me a heart attack one of these days, though."

"Yeah?" Fire-Eater smiled at him, never quite sure what to make of his family life. He'd always been 'first mate' to her. Rarely did she think of him as having had a child, and certainly not grandchildren, for that matter! "I'll bet having to pay attention to the little runts must be blowing the hair off your head faster then an Agent with a leaf-blower."

Swift chuckled, shaking his head. "You stay away from my hair," he scolded, and would have shaken a finger at her if she hadn't been gripping his hand. "No, they're all right.... I'm helping Paisley sort her beads."

"And I guess Paisley's invisible today?"

"No, she ran off on me... apparently the other children are much more entertaining than a useless old man." He chuckled again, though the sound was forced.

"Oh, Swift," Fire-Eater squeezed his hand again. "You're not useless, now stop your bitching about that." She felt like a youth again, almost, kneeling here at the side of the man who may as well have been her father. He seemed almost helpless, as if he were somehow going to break apart if she gave him a hug... so she kept nothing but the tenuous contact of palm over scarred knuckles, fingers interlaced with older, more calloused ones.

Sitting in silence for a few moments, there was only the noise that filtered in from the busy hall without the door and the fans that whirred constantly to keep the air circulating. Then Swift rumbled again, as if he were clearing his throat, and said, "Well, pull up a chair! You're going to get a cold sitting on the ground like that."

"That's hogswash and you know it." Fire-Eater retorted, but she pulled over a bench, none the less. Sitting across from him, it was time for her to clear her own throat. "So..." she began, her voice tainted with hesitancy, "...everything's been going according to plan, so far."

He nodded, his face falling into a serious frown. "Tell me."

"Well," the Captain explained, "the hatching run is looming, and we're helping the Dragonchaser gather candidates again. Things are going well enough..."

"But?" Swift pressed, his weak voice also surprisingly gentle.

Fire-Eater broke his gaze, looking instead at a brass bead that had caught the light just so. "I'm worried." said she, after a pause. "I'm worried that bad things are going to happen again."

He didn't reply for a while... the both of them, caught up in the horrific failure of the attack that had befallen their ship, had little to say about it. While the Captain had had the mental anguish of having to to deal with the deaths of most of her crew, at least she hadn't come to any permanent, physical damage. Swift's case was not so lucky. One of his arms, crippled now, had loss all use after most of it had been crushed under one of the ship's girders. He'd lost a lot of his skin to burns and even now, a year over the accident, his body was a patchwork quilt of grafted flesh. Even his lungs would never quite recover, due to all of the smoke he'd inhaled... in short, his 'miraculous survival' had left him an old man--an old useless man, if anyone'd let him convince them.

The silence was broken as he tried to clear his throat again, which quickly broke down into a series of harsh coughs. Immediately, Fire-Eater stood and moved to the back of his chair, placing her soothing hands over his doubled-over back. Eventually the fit passed, and as he wiped tears from his eyes, he croaked, "If things are going according to plan," he tried, rumbled again, then continued, "then they're going to plan, Fiy. What's She said about all of this?"

The Captain thought for a bit, kneading Swift's back as a means to delay. She wanted to choose her words carefully, after all, she didn't want to worry him. "I received a package," she finally said, "some time back. We're supposed to be looking for someone--"

"You don't mean that One bullshit, I pray?" Swift scowled, and Fire-Eater could feel him tense briefly under her ministrations.

"No!" Fire-Eater exclaimed, laughing. "No, someone, or some people... Swift," serious again, she said, "something's got to be happening inside Vere."

"Something that's got you worried?" the old man asked, his voice light in an attempt to alleviate her.

"Well..." She began, slipping around from behind him, back to her pulled-over bench. "It's got Her worried..." Folding her hands together in her lap, the captain looked resolutely at the floor again. "Everything She's said has always been so clear to me, so certain..." Everything that Fire-Eater had been worried about, the Oracle had easily put to ease. "I can't tell, now. Her messages have panned out before, but it feels like things just aren't going according to Her plans, anymore." She glanced up, and was caught by Swift's heavy gaze.

"You shouldn't try to second-guess a woman like that," he said, gravely, "even if you think you've been around her for forever and a day. So long as you have been following Her advice, Fiy, I'm sure that things will turn out all right."

The captain grimaced, returning her gaze to the floor. "She didn't tell us about the attack. We could have avoided it..."

Sighing, Swift's voice was nothing if not resigned. "I'm sure that it was a part of Her plans, Fiy." In fact, that statement was what made Swift's bearable: if he had been crippled for no reason, he probably wouldn't have held together for even this long. "Now tell me, who is this person... are these people you're supposed to be looking for?"

Distracted thusly, Fire-Eater was relieved to explain. "Some girls from Vere who are supposed to be very important." She gave a small laugh, then added, "like usual, she didn't give me too much else to go on."

"Of course," Swift replied, settling back into his mass of blankets.

"I think I'm supposed to find them before the next hatching, but even that, I can't be certain of."

"How long do you have?"

"A little over a week, I'm guessing. That's all I know. Other then that I just know that it's very important to be in Vere, finding these people." She shook her head, her brow furrowing as she frowned.

Swift, settled most comfortably now, said, "do you think they're supposed to be candidates?"

"I don't know," Fire-Eater admitted. "If--when I find them, I'll make sure that they're there for the hatching. God, Swift..." She heaved a sigh. "This is all so stressful. Sometimes I wish I could just pull out and take a break. Then I remember that everything's resting on my shoulders, and I can't even grab a bite to eat without feeling like the seconds are ticking away."

"Such is the joys and pains of being a soldier," he replied, chuckling a little. "If the machines don't kill you, the wait will. Better off just getting it done then thinking--"

"--thinking about it," the captain echoed. "Yeah, I know it... don't I know it," she repeated, her voice thoughtful. She felt like she needed to say more, but she just couldn't. There were things that she didn't dare tell anyone... even if Swift was her closest companion. For this reason, and for others, she guided the conversation back to more mundane gossip, things that required less thought... comfortable things. And all this time she worried...