The mangled, ruptured hulks of the other craft surrounded the newly-trapped vessel, which was unable to call for help. A six-man team had been dispatched to search inside the distant alien structure. Dameia was part of the squad exploring inside, the shoulder-mounted lights of her backpack shining through her long, curly blonde hair as she trailed behind the others. Her striking blue eyes kept darting between each of the other three members before her, as they maintained a distance from her greater than was strictly necessary. Their fifth had been left at the entrance to keep watch. No one questioned that the hulking warrior Quuhod could hold his own, though he had been badly shaken by the loss of his crystal throwing weapons. Yet that had not been the only loss inflicted by this horrible place. Dameia had witnessed for herself the death of their commander Ilvar, and now the brash Cabren had taken charge of their team. The corridors of this structure made no sense, twisting and turning unevenly as if it had been designed by a madman. Eventually, they had wandered into a small room with pillars of crystal pulsing with a dim green light that bathed the team in their strange glow. Alluma, their empath, was clinging to Cabren’s arm like a frightened child, her head resting on his shoulder. Dameia sorely missed the same intimacy she had with the commander and had even considered the final member of their team, Balon, as a source of companionship in this dark place. However, she quickly dismissed such a notion, Balon despised her and was not shy to show it. He was a short man of slight build with close-cropped brown hair and was looking about the place with visible unease in contrast to Cabren’s calm, almost casual demeanor. In fact, the squad leader seemed almost too cool and collected, looking over the glowing pillars in a manner that was almost bored. Though, even Dameia had to admit Cabren was quite handsome, with his roguishly-styled wavy shoulder length black hair and a thick mustache atop his upper lip. With his rifle slung over one shoulder and Alluma gripped firmly by the hip he gave off asian the air the classic dashing hero. But then when he looked to Dameia for just a moment his smile turned sour and he looked away, continuing on towards the next corridor. Since Ilvar had perished it had seemed they all shared this animosity towards her, leaving her in a depressed isolation. “W-what are we even doing in this place?” Dameia asked timidly, just to break the bleak silence. “Did you not see all those ships outside, Dameia? There has to be a reason for it, and why this structure was at the center of it all,” Alluma responded, yet the empath’s tone seemed almost scolding. “What I want to know is why you are even here?” Balon chimed in with a sneer directed at Damiea. “I just want to help!” Damiea snapped back. “Oh, like you helped the Commander? Yeah... No thanks,” Balon scoffed. “It wasn't my fault, there was nothing I could do! S-something was in the vent with him!” Dameia desperately tried to explain. “That's enough!” Cabren shouted, finally reaching his limit. They all went silent, Dameia’s chin quivered as she tried to swallow down the lump in her throat and blink away the tears welling in the corners of her eyes. “Dameia, go join Quuhod on rear guard, you’re no help here,” Cabren snapped, voice as cold as deep-space frost. “Bu-” Dameia tried to speak out, but one hard glare from the team leader made her reconsider. She turned away before they could see the tears beginning to trickle down her cheeks and started the long walk back down those dark tunnels alone. Even though Dameia was truly alone in the winding corridors, she couldn't shake this unsettling feeling that she was being watched. japanese She was careful to follow the markers they had left on the walls to guide themselves through this maze of passages. All he could do was moan and shudder. I am not fat or skinny but Joe says I have all the right curves. I stepped outside and stood in front of her door. "Hey Harold! He suddenly felt very hungry and looked at his watch. She looked up and said, "Thanks Gramms. “Well you’re bloody right!” Angie insisted as she stood up in the witness box and hauled her skirt up around waist. I decided that I needed to wear less, or at least expose more so that I’d get noticed. I didn’t say anything, but I knew what they were. 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