"But.... sir," one of the crewman spoke up, who seemed to be from Commenor Systems Alliance, "if the Queen is gone... then we need to speak to the Senate, that is what they are for. And.... there are no Kings here, not anymore." "You're right," Bermann spoke up after turning to see the one speaking, "I am not your king, but your Queen is still alive out there. We don't know for how long, and I will not let her die alone. Did you swear an oath to her? Did you pledge to protect her? I don't know if you did, but my people pledged their lives to me. I pledged mine to her. I don't expect my people to follow a few words they spoke before I disgraced my home with my false death. but there is one thing my people pledge to, no matter what; freedom. I've spent my share of blood to bring them up from the dirt. I wasted my life away, no personal time, no l-.... no loved ones, all my time - gone. So that I could save them. They flourished because of me. The killings and wars stopped. And I pulled them out of the shadows; they no longer hide because of me. So I'm asking - not ordering - for some help," he sighed, "some help to save the person who saved.... me."
Bermann took a moment to stare at the crewman who decided not to speak back, before making a hand gesture to one of the men that had walked onto the ship with him, who was carrying a large crate. He gestured him to follow as he walked towards the captains ready room. "Proceed on the course, as soon as we're ready, jump to hyperspace, I need to get ready for battle," he spoke out to the bridge crew, before moving into his room. Those who were not going to join them had left. They didn't have the crew to properly man the ship for war, and they had less. It would considerably be less of a threat before they left, it's unknown what more they could do now.
Bermann entered the room, leaving the door open for the crewman, reaching over and brushing his hand against the wall. He helped to build this ship, and it had all but forgotten him. His people thought he was dead, and they were right to, so his precious things were no longer precious, but forgotten and left behind. The crewmen put the crate on the old desk and started to open it up as Bermann watched out the window, seeing the ship start to move into hyperspace. "It's ready," the crewman said. Bermann turned around and walked over to the crate, looking inside, running his hand against what he felt. It was old, it was unused, nearly new, but still.... aged. He pulled out the pieces of armor and laid them out properly on the desk before stripping himself of his CSA uniform. Below it, a proper under-armor suit was hidden until now, preparing himself to wear the armor beforehand. First, his boots; he propped his leg up on the chair by his desk and removed it, readying himself to put on the armored boot-piece. He felt a tick in his head, something inside him trying to tell him something. He took it as a sign that he was either going to meet his destiny, or lose someone very close to him. It came to him as a disturbance, but he swallowed it, as he already made his decision. Judgement be damned.
The crewman spoke up, softly, "Admiral... forgive me, but," he paused. Bermann stopped what he was doing and looked up, "speak up, son." "Your friend.... Ailred.... he has come by the palace a lot since your ...ehm, death. Will he be joining us?" Bermann shook his head, going back to putting his pieces together and wearing them, "he doesn't need to know I'm still alive, that's why only the people on this ship and the one following knows. No, he has his people to worry about." He stood up, grabbing hold of the chest piece and securing it onto his torso. He turned around so the crewman could help with the interlocking parts. "But... he was your Admiral, wasn't he? He sh-" "Stop," Bermann interrupted him, turning his head to the side, "he..." He grunted, looking down and taking a breath, "he has his own people to worry about, now." Bermann tightened up the armor and straightened it, leaving the helmet on the desk and moving back to the crate. He pulled out a weapon inside, dusting it off and inspecting it. "I'm sorry, sir," the crewman finished, turning to leave the room. "Fellar," Bermann uttered, fiddling with the weapon, making sure it was operational. The crewman stopped and turned around. "You're my First Officer for a reason," he turned his head to look at the man, "I trust your judgement. Ailred is busy, but you're not, not for me. I expect you to command the Neutralizer and the Steadfast properly. Your success means everything to my success." Fellar nodded, "I won't let you down," he saluted him, in the old Galderran-style salute. Their world started from an old Imperial base, their culture was very Imperialistic. Or, at least, it was, at one time.
Bermann and Fellar exited the room and the bridge crew were all at their posts, as much as they could be. Bermann looked around at the crew that chose to stay with him, and he was happy. "I couldn't be more proud of all of you," he proceeded to walk to the center of the bridge, "thank you all, for staying. How long until we arrive at the coordinates, helmsman?" The helmsman spoke up, ready and waiting, "the location was very close.... it shouldn't take too long, sir." "Good," Bermann responded, "ready weapons, get the shuttles and fighters ready. In the next few moments, we may enter into a heated battle, or a debris field. Let's be ready for anything. Are you all with me?"
Any moment, everyone would be able to see them coming up on sensors. The more sophisticated, the farther out they would be able to see them. But what they saw... was a very... big... signature. Intimidating. Bermann walked up to the comm station and stared at the comms officer, making a head motion for them to move, so that he could get access. He inputted some information, and opened a channel. "Lady Kay, if you can hear me. I'm coming. I will not let you go this alone, I promise."