He should have been prepared for it. The sudden strange pose, the tense language of the body, the stance. The German should have been able to tell that something was coming. What caused it? Was the 'ginger' that afraid of bugs? No idea, they didn't start screaming or such like all little teen girls would when shown a bug.
Still, The German's reflexes felt a little rusty and his body was jamming like an old mashine that hadn't been taken through regular checking for a few dozen years. He couldn't stop Kete, but his body did flinch at the sudden acting when Kete made a move and tripped the lady - Nirix was here name, probably.
The flinching woke him up, gave him a few seconds time to act, but it wasn't much. His nerves couldn't reach his legs to tell them that it was time to run, but his body did take a little more prepared and sheltering posture, turning slightly to the side so that he'd get ready to run - but there was no time.
Due to Christofer's scared backing away pose, Ketin would hit him in the head, slightly on the back, instead of his chest. It hurt. And it felt rude. Why did they do that? There was no time to ask questions though, Christofer still wasn't fully 'recovered' from the things that had happened during the day, and due to his body's weaker condition, he took a bit bigger hit than he probably should have. The boy would et out a pained whine, hit the ground and curl as an automatic reflex and proceed to cover his head just in case Kete would try kicking him too, although it seemed unlikely, he hadn't done so to the lady either...
The German lost his vision for a few seconds having gotten the back of his head hit it irritated his vision nerves. His ears were ringing, the world inside his head was spinning, the boy felt light headed. The hit shouldn't have been strong enough to draw blood By any means, but adding that to him hitting the ground with barely nothing to soften the impact right after the hit, Toffi wasn't sure anymore if it was just a feeling or if he was really bleeding... He'd not be able to see what Ketin did next, but judging by the sounds going further in some direction he was running, like a person that had just committed a crime without meaning to, but too traumatized to even appologize. It was so confusing...
Toffi would keep protecting his head and held around whatever fluffy it was that had situated itself next to his curled body on the ground. Hugging it seemed to take away some of the pain. He hid his face in it and whimpered, trying to get the pain out of his head. It somehow reminded him of his dog... Sammy would always come lay next to him if the German was feeling sick... Oh Sammy... The boy wondered if the samoyed was fine...
His vision was slowly recovering. The boy could see blurs of color here and there. Dusty brown, soil, leafy green, some black, sky, grey... Distant streetlights somewhere... A car, maybe... He felt like roadkill as he turned slightly to lay on his stomach, attempting on pushing himself up with only one hand, the other still firmly holding over his head. The first attempt would end up as a failure and the boy would just flop on the ground, feeling exhausted. He couldn't make a clear view of his surroundings. It was the park but which way was the way he had come from? Where was that?
The 3 or more bangs that were shot near him ripped through his sencitive ears. He gringed, pained. What happened? The next thing he knew was the strange pale lady making their way out of the scene, like she worked together still with the ginger and all they had wanted was to be a bunch of violent mean teens...
The boy struggled for a few times, managing to finally get up to at least on all four and then to a very dizzy, low standing stance. He was alone... Except for the few men in armour that he'd be notising shortly. Oh. It was that one 'guy' from before... That silent dude 'hiding' behind that armory.
Christofer would hold his head, stumble a bit and lean on the tree near the edge of the path.
"You. You there *******. Why are you here? Why do you not answer me..??" he'd slightly raise his voice in an attempt of getting some contact with the 'people'. The boy coughed, not too sure of what he would be trying next if he'd keep on trying to get their attention...
Still, The German's reflexes felt a little rusty and his body was jamming like an old mashine that hadn't been taken through regular checking for a few dozen years. He couldn't stop Kete, but his body did flinch at the sudden acting when Kete made a move and tripped the lady - Nirix was here name, probably.
The flinching woke him up, gave him a few seconds time to act, but it wasn't much. His nerves couldn't reach his legs to tell them that it was time to run, but his body did take a little more prepared and sheltering posture, turning slightly to the side so that he'd get ready to run - but there was no time.
Due to Christofer's scared backing away pose, Ketin would hit him in the head, slightly on the back, instead of his chest. It hurt. And it felt rude. Why did they do that? There was no time to ask questions though, Christofer still wasn't fully 'recovered' from the things that had happened during the day, and due to his body's weaker condition, he took a bit bigger hit than he probably should have. The boy would et out a pained whine, hit the ground and curl as an automatic reflex and proceed to cover his head just in case Kete would try kicking him too, although it seemed unlikely, he hadn't done so to the lady either...
The German lost his vision for a few seconds having gotten the back of his head hit it irritated his vision nerves. His ears were ringing, the world inside his head was spinning, the boy felt light headed. The hit shouldn't have been strong enough to draw blood By any means, but adding that to him hitting the ground with barely nothing to soften the impact right after the hit, Toffi wasn't sure anymore if it was just a feeling or if he was really bleeding... He'd not be able to see what Ketin did next, but judging by the sounds going further in some direction he was running, like a person that had just committed a crime without meaning to, but too traumatized to even appologize. It was so confusing...
Toffi would keep protecting his head and held around whatever fluffy it was that had situated itself next to his curled body on the ground. Hugging it seemed to take away some of the pain. He hid his face in it and whimpered, trying to get the pain out of his head. It somehow reminded him of his dog... Sammy would always come lay next to him if the German was feeling sick... Oh Sammy... The boy wondered if the samoyed was fine...
His vision was slowly recovering. The boy could see blurs of color here and there. Dusty brown, soil, leafy green, some black, sky, grey... Distant streetlights somewhere... A car, maybe... He felt like roadkill as he turned slightly to lay on his stomach, attempting on pushing himself up with only one hand, the other still firmly holding over his head. The first attempt would end up as a failure and the boy would just flop on the ground, feeling exhausted. He couldn't make a clear view of his surroundings. It was the park but which way was the way he had come from? Where was that?
The 3 or more bangs that were shot near him ripped through his sencitive ears. He gringed, pained. What happened? The next thing he knew was the strange pale lady making their way out of the scene, like she worked together still with the ginger and all they had wanted was to be a bunch of violent mean teens...
The boy struggled for a few times, managing to finally get up to at least on all four and then to a very dizzy, low standing stance. He was alone... Except for the few men in armour that he'd be notising shortly. Oh. It was that one 'guy' from before... That silent dude 'hiding' behind that armory.
Christofer would hold his head, stumble a bit and lean on the tree near the edge of the path.
"You. You there *******. Why are you here? Why do you not answer me..??" he'd slightly raise his voice in an attempt of getting some contact with the 'people'. The boy coughed, not too sure of what he would be trying next if he'd keep on trying to get their attention...
It was unpleasing to the since the very first milisecond. The eagerness of the man to find the fabled Mad Ranger already did it's part of to unscrew some bolts from what kept the Ranger's patience in it's place. Through the whole trip towards the armory, he only went along answering Drakis with a few nods and the old "Yeah, whatever.", even trying to look away from Drakis, experimenting if that could work as a vague signal of 'Shut the **** up'.
But it was all in vain.
After what felt like the longest minutes of his entire life, the Ranger finally arrived at his destination, only to have his mood entirely shifted by the looks and feel of the new fellow in the show. Yascra was his name, and from the voice to his expression, together to the fact that he manned the armory surely didn't made the Ranger's on Stella Viventium not in a pinch at ease.
"I have the slight impression that you would be thankful if I shot him on sight." A cynical chuckle spurted off from his mask. Despite the fearsome tales, he wasn't much of a merciless guy to the point of killing someone just because he was annoying or a loudmouth. The Ranger just surveyed the armory carefully, often letting out an involuntary "Whoa..." each time his eyes locked on certain hardware, some times small, some times big, both extremely rare and highly destructive tools of war.
"... Is that creep the best mechanic in this colony?" - The Masked Man murmured, focusing his attention on the vast arsenal at his disposal. - "Because I need my junk to be set up. Radar blown off. Need a spare diamond ocular lens, ERIS stuff if available. Gas for my jet propulsion... The list goes on."
ERIS BeliCorp: Known for their state of the art neuro-ocular cybernetic implants, ERIS BeliCorp used to produce one of the best operating systems for Mechanized Infantry and Hybrid Space-Planet Fighters alike. It was shutdown and merged with governmental entities after the Eris Virus Scandal. Countless soldiers were injected with a unknown nanite-assisted pathogen as a form of experimental combat proficiency enhancing program. While some of the infected had shown improvement equaling to years of combat experience, a lot of soldiers underwent into a unstoppable rampage, killing anyone on sight with whatever they had in their hands.
Their cybernetic equipment and OS Drives are highly sought for across the galaxy. Some of the cheapest Hybrid Fighters available to the Space Military were designed by Weapon Architects working for ERIS, though cheaper and more versatile crafts are easily available.
But it was all in vain.
After what felt like the longest minutes of his entire life, the Ranger finally arrived at his destination, only to have his mood entirely shifted by the looks and feel of the new fellow in the show. Yascra was his name, and from the voice to his expression, together to the fact that he manned the armory surely didn't made the Ranger's on Stella Viventium not in a pinch at ease.
"I have the slight impression that you would be thankful if I shot him on sight." A cynical chuckle spurted off from his mask. Despite the fearsome tales, he wasn't much of a merciless guy to the point of killing someone just because he was annoying or a loudmouth. The Ranger just surveyed the armory carefully, often letting out an involuntary "Whoa..." each time his eyes locked on certain hardware, some times small, some times big, both extremely rare and highly destructive tools of war.
"... Is that creep the best mechanic in this colony?" - The Masked Man murmured, focusing his attention on the vast arsenal at his disposal. - "Because I need my junk to be set up. Radar blown off. Need a spare diamond ocular lens, ERIS stuff if available. Gas for my jet propulsion... The list goes on."
ERIS BeliCorp: Known for their state of the art neuro-ocular cybernetic implants, ERIS BeliCorp used to produce one of the best operating systems for Mechanized Infantry and Hybrid Space-Planet Fighters alike. It was shutdown and merged with governmental entities after the Eris Virus Scandal. Countless soldiers were injected with a unknown nanite-assisted pathogen as a form of experimental combat proficiency enhancing program. While some of the infected had shown improvement equaling to years of combat experience, a lot of soldiers underwent into a unstoppable rampage, killing anyone on sight with whatever they had in their hands.
Their cybernetic equipment and OS Drives are highly sought for across the galaxy. Some of the cheapest Hybrid Fighters available to the Space Military were designed by Weapon Architects working for ERIS, though cheaper and more versatile crafts are easily available.
The fugitive leaped over another bench, deftly stepping on the seat to propel himself over the back and keep moving with only the slightest delay. He did not need to glance behind him to see – he saw through the eyes of some fifteen individuals now, all at once, directing just a little attention to each, just enough to be aware, to put them all together into a logical whole. He coordinated his position relative to them and he moved, moved, moved. His coat waved behind him, feet seeming to barely touch the ground. Nothing inhuman, but it was clear that he was quite adept in the art of evasion.
Kallenger herself had managed to escape the unexpected onslaught, as did the two soldiers who were keeping up with her. A few others however, who had been trailing strategically behind were not so lucky. Even the most well trained soldiers had moments of weakness – why would they have expected one of them to attack?
3/20 went down first in a single, deadly shot. 17/20 was next – again completely unaware of the threat and going down quick and easy. 6/20 noticed 17/20 go down and reacted with haste to the assailant – he managed to get a few shots off with his rifle – it had a very high rate of fire – but the assassin was too swift and even his well-trained aim failed him. He took a non-fatal hit, and would be easy to dispatch with a second shot thereafter. 14/20 made the most progress since he’d had the high ground at the moment and made certain to keep moving as he fired. A hit to the leg and he dove behind a large boulder to take cover.
“The woman he was with is allied to D.E., dispatch on sight!” He hissed into his communicator. “She’s well trained, silenced AP handgun, extremely dangerous.”
Having gotten his message out, 14/20 would proceed with a last-ditch attempt at victory by tossing a small handful of what appeared to be small, but potent electronic-paralization grenades – wait for the cluster of loud POPs and roll from cover to administer whatever he could in suppressing fire before being put out of commission one way or another.
By that point there were no soldiers left in the immediate vicinity of the Eoclu assassin. Other soldiers were moving into position some distance away to block off both of the park gates, but that wasn’t where Ketin was heading. He shot over the grass and open treelines, arcing in a wide circle from where he had first started – the result was that Nirix would have a good view of his next trick, which would be seen above a fenced ridge that dropped down a rocky 20 feet.
They were one of Kete’s favorite toys, and could be by all means classified as fireworks. Tiny capsules the size of Skittles, each containing a spark-emitting substance and a simple, mass-produced chip that allowed it to be programmed – typically from a terminal or net access device to display a written message in brilliant lights when detonated. They were typically used for what fireworks were typically for, that being shows or displays. Ever inventive Kete however had a different use for them, since he did not need a terminal to program into the little things.
Nirix would get a good view of the fugitive, running away from her through the field at the bottom of the rocky incline, but he was too far for there to be any possibility of him fleeing from her directly. He had ruled her out by now, and she was just barely out of range anyway.
Bursting from a bordering treeline, the scene would unfold quickly. Kallenger and her two soldiers had managed to cut him off, but he wasn’t having any of it. Then the unthinkable happened – Kete spun around mid-stride and…He drew a gun. It was clearly a handgun from any distance. He faced the trio just long enough to take aim and fire. There was a brilliant flash of piercing white light and some snapping and crackling as the buckshot projectiles lit up as programmed, and when the light had gone there remained brightly glowing letters that hung in the air for some seven seconds before dissipating that read
GO AWAY
It had successfully stunned the two soldiers but Kallenger kept up her pursuit – to be faced with two more shots which were fired halfhazardly behind him as he ran.
GRRRRRRR
and
WHAT A SLY FOX!
The third shot managed to be effective, sending Kallenger momentarily stumbling and clutching at her eyes, having to stop or risk running into a tree.
For good measure, he fired a fourth.
HE WENT THAT-A-WAY ==>
And managed to get a couple more of the soldiers who had been sneaking through the trees to run into them instead.
And then he was gone, flailing his way around another bend and disappearing from sight – at least from that vantage point. The chase was likely far from over, especially if that assassin was going to be involved.
Christofer had, it seemed, been largely been left behind in the chaos, considering that, as Nirix went on her counter-assault some distance away, he found himself alone once again with Agent 4/20 who was, as usual, taking the rearmost position of the squad. He had been trotting silently down the otherwise secluded pathway when hailed by the strange fellow from earlier, stopped and turned around.
“We’re here after Devil Eye. If you don’t know he’s an extremely dangerous criminal and you should be sure to keep clear of him. Keep clear of us too, since usually our policy is to eliminate anyone Devil Eye associates with, which now means you. Lay low, this is not a game. Now I’m not stopping to talk because this is very important and I don’t have the time. Don’t get yourself killed.”
And with that he took off at a sprint, arcing wide around the area where Nirix was fighting so as to avoid the otherwise inevitable death. 4/20 had always had a way of being more observant than his comrades and it had saved his life on more than enough occasions to make it a worthwhile trait.
Gaelan Yascra gave a knowing, assenting grin at the Ranger’s suggesting that a shoot-on-sight policy for Drakis Volo would be mutually beneficial. Of course, he didn’t really want to kill the man either, but most could agree that the man was largely intolerable.
“Hm, impressive isn’t it?” He replied to the Ranger’s awe at the Stella’s vast, shiny arsenal. “All hand-tooled by yours-truly, most reliable pieces in the ‘Verse.” He did seem proud of his work, though speaking always in a voice that – again – might be imagined as that of an anthropomorphic snake. He was calm and otherwise quiet as well, certainly better fit for company even if he did look like he’d just crawled from the Caves of the Falmer. He didn’t have much to say until prompted again – at which point he gave a sardonic smirk. “Unfortunately yes – in fact he’s probably the best mechanic this side of the Galaxy. The man’s as gifted with machines as he is irritating, almost makes it worth it to try and endure his presence…I hate to say it but it’s best to stay on his good side for that reason. The propulsion gas and radar he’ll be able to take care of – I don’t know anything about ERIS but if it’s mechanical or cybernetic he can handle it. Anything more computer-based Harkahn will be able to take care of.”
Hopefully this Harkahn character wouldn’t be half as obnoxious as the master mechanic…but then, someone who was as good with computers as Volo was machines would have to be some kind of spectacle.
It wouldn’t be long before the Ranger would find out for himself. After he had collected whatever he could carry from the armory – If any of his weapons required maintenance Gaelan would take care of that while the Ranger browsed and return a fantastically refurbished product – at last he would find himself back at the door. It opened and sure enough, there was Drakis Volo, standing right where they had left him, smiling that infuriating smile of his through scraggly facial-tufts. With an equal misfortune he would begin speaking the very millisecond that the door was opened, and he wouldn’t stop again for a long, long while.
“Pretty great selection huh? Yascra really knows his stuff...once had a missile launcher that...never seen anything like it, it was…and how about the…y’know it’s kind of funny that we’ve got all those guns because Stella doesn’t have any real militant force to speak of, I think the Commodore just likes to collect things…whole collection of old cannons, must’a been…and you shoulda’ seen when she…there was this Falscian prostitute y’see…sixteen days later she…with a box of fancy cigars and five thousand standard…and this other time there was….and then…”
And on…and on…and on…
Luckily it wasn’t too hard to make him believe one was actually engaged in his one-way conversation. A few nods would do the trick – and as before he would be blissfully oblivious to any subtle attempts at making him shut up.
It was a painfully long process, getting to the mechanical bay and having any repairs, refurbishes, restorations or refilling done. It would be an interesting time, however it would go down, when the time would come for him to work on the Ranger’s mask. Naturally he was persistently curious to see the madman’s face, but if he ended up just having to do his repairs without removing it, he would eventually assent and go ahead with the job.
After what would surely feel like a few lifetimes, Drakis would announce that he had finished, stand back and brush his hands off in a ‘job-well-done’ gesture. Sure enough, anything within his expertise was good-as-new.
“Sure beats Mick’n Ralph’s, huh!” He said, using an old and very versatile expression as he poked his ear and spoke – the habit was mutual among the crew it seemed, putting a finger to the ear to indicate to those around them that they were talking to someone via BrainPal. “He’s all yours Dorin.” Drakis said, and then continued blathering on about nothing for some five minutes until the computer-science man showed up.
He was exactly what one would expect to see in a computer-science man. Average of build and height, dressed in black canvas pants and matching boots with a blue shirt with loose black tie beneath long, white coat. It was a widely known fact that he liked his coat and didn’t care how stereotypical it made him look – he was rather outspoken on the matter when addressed.
Otherwise he appeared to be in his late twenties, had an unintentionally-fashionable ‘do of sandy brown hair, and thin-framed glasses that reflected strikingly when he made a point – he’d be the envy of the whole Hellsing Organization, even if most folks agreed that he should polish the lenses less.
He appeared in the doorway to the great mechanics bay, gave a vaguely sympathetic smile and waved him over. Drakis went on with some variety of overdrawn farewell.
“I don’t need to see your face to know that you look like you’ve just scaled the Mountains of Madness.” He said, good-humoredly. “I don’t know what Tiana sees in that man. I couldn’t imagine trying to actually live in the same house as him.” A tiny, involuntary shudder, but a quick recovery. “Anyhow, as it goes I’m Dorin Harkahn and I’ll be patching up whatever Motor-Mouth couldn’t. Then we’ll get to have some good old battlefront comradery down on the surface-“ He hesitated, realizing that he might need to provide more of an explanation therein. “Admiral Petrovalyc wants you to come down with myself and Aleessa – you’ll meet her later – to bring back that rogue sapient he’s been after. Looks like the thing’s sitting in the snow up in the ‘Siberia’ continent, just a couple dozen miles out of a little city ‘Kartupelis’ or something like that. I wonder what it translates to?”
So, Dr. Harkahn wasn’t nearly as annoying as Volo. In comparison he probably seemed fantastic – but he did tend to ramble and digress a whole lot…As if his stereotypical scientist getup wasn’t complete enough without the associated speech habits.
“Ah, probably nothing.” A dismissive wave of the hand. “Anyway. You mentioned you needed some ERIS stuff? I don’t have anything brand-name but I can fix what you’ve got and get you suited with a good equivalent for anything you need replaced…”
That said, they boarded another railcar, took off, and fifteen minutes later came to another station. Through the gate, up some stairs, left, right, right, left, downstairs, left, left, hard right, U-turn, elevator 2 floors up and they were at Harkahn’s lab, which was exactly what a scientists workspace should look like. He would work quickly and efficiently, only rambling on a little bit. Certainly could be worse…
Mr. Petrovalyc was as stony-calm as ever, just as emotionally dull as always – but there was a growing sense of urgency about him. He smiled knowingly at Kampfer’s try at hitting a nerve – the Lord had only aided him in his argument. Besides, there were much more sensitive spots to prod at. Still he was being sent everything his research team could find on Dimensional Lords – which was scant indeed – but a theory in some centuries-old thesis paper perked his interest. More ammunition, he thought.
“So you’re a stable group then – for that you have my utmost respect. But explain to me this, Doctor. You say that I am blinded by power and looking to intimidate others to bend them to me. Blinded by power? Perhaps – but isn’t it you, who at this very moment is pushing me around? You’re trying to intimidate me Doctor, trying to bend me to your will. Your reasons for this are irrelevant, just or otherwise. The point is that you’re proving to me with each and every word that you are no different and no better than a human.” It seemed he was trying to strike a nerve in return.
The Lord’s impatience was rising. He shouted at Aelyn, demanded an answer – and to Aelyn himself this was an impending victory…Or at least going in the right direction. Realistically he knew that neither side would reach a /victory/ here.
He continued to ignore Kampfer’s offer, glazed right over it infuriatingly. Kampfer might have had a vastly superior force to the Admiral, but Aelyn-Paeryc Petrovalyc was a master of his emotions…and the emotions of others – through no means save for common emotional manipulation.
“Think, Doctor. Think.” He tapped his temple with an index finger – it was the first time he had given any sort of gestural body language, and this would doubtless make it that much more telling. It was as if he knew something the Doctor did not – unlikely as this was, whether or not it was true, he was doing a fantastic job of making it apparent. It was as if he could see a man with a gun standing behind the Doctor and was only waiting for him to say the trigger-word to justify the kill. This was not true of course – certainly not literally – but he was doing a downright knockdown performance in making it seem that way. “Use that fantastic Dimensional-mind of yours and think through this thoroughly. Is there any reason you might benefit from allying with me as opposed to making an enemy of me? Any reason at all?”
Yes, yes! There must have been some reason that Kampfer wasn’t seeing. It was as though Aelyn were giving him opportunity after opportunity, chance after chance to see the Captain’s trump card, urging him to find it before…before…
Before what?
Kallenger herself had managed to escape the unexpected onslaught, as did the two soldiers who were keeping up with her. A few others however, who had been trailing strategically behind were not so lucky. Even the most well trained soldiers had moments of weakness – why would they have expected one of them to attack?
3/20 went down first in a single, deadly shot. 17/20 was next – again completely unaware of the threat and going down quick and easy. 6/20 noticed 17/20 go down and reacted with haste to the assailant – he managed to get a few shots off with his rifle – it had a very high rate of fire – but the assassin was too swift and even his well-trained aim failed him. He took a non-fatal hit, and would be easy to dispatch with a second shot thereafter. 14/20 made the most progress since he’d had the high ground at the moment and made certain to keep moving as he fired. A hit to the leg and he dove behind a large boulder to take cover.
“The woman he was with is allied to D.E., dispatch on sight!” He hissed into his communicator. “She’s well trained, silenced AP handgun, extremely dangerous.”
Having gotten his message out, 14/20 would proceed with a last-ditch attempt at victory by tossing a small handful of what appeared to be small, but potent electronic-paralization grenades – wait for the cluster of loud POPs and roll from cover to administer whatever he could in suppressing fire before being put out of commission one way or another.
By that point there were no soldiers left in the immediate vicinity of the Eoclu assassin. Other soldiers were moving into position some distance away to block off both of the park gates, but that wasn’t where Ketin was heading. He shot over the grass and open treelines, arcing in a wide circle from where he had first started – the result was that Nirix would have a good view of his next trick, which would be seen above a fenced ridge that dropped down a rocky 20 feet.
They were one of Kete’s favorite toys, and could be by all means classified as fireworks. Tiny capsules the size of Skittles, each containing a spark-emitting substance and a simple, mass-produced chip that allowed it to be programmed – typically from a terminal or net access device to display a written message in brilliant lights when detonated. They were typically used for what fireworks were typically for, that being shows or displays. Ever inventive Kete however had a different use for them, since he did not need a terminal to program into the little things.
Nirix would get a good view of the fugitive, running away from her through the field at the bottom of the rocky incline, but he was too far for there to be any possibility of him fleeing from her directly. He had ruled her out by now, and she was just barely out of range anyway.
Bursting from a bordering treeline, the scene would unfold quickly. Kallenger and her two soldiers had managed to cut him off, but he wasn’t having any of it. Then the unthinkable happened – Kete spun around mid-stride and…He drew a gun. It was clearly a handgun from any distance. He faced the trio just long enough to take aim and fire. There was a brilliant flash of piercing white light and some snapping and crackling as the buckshot projectiles lit up as programmed, and when the light had gone there remained brightly glowing letters that hung in the air for some seven seconds before dissipating that read
GO AWAY
It had successfully stunned the two soldiers but Kallenger kept up her pursuit – to be faced with two more shots which were fired halfhazardly behind him as he ran.
GRRRRRRR
and
WHAT A SLY FOX!
The third shot managed to be effective, sending Kallenger momentarily stumbling and clutching at her eyes, having to stop or risk running into a tree.
For good measure, he fired a fourth.
HE WENT THAT-A-WAY ==>
And managed to get a couple more of the soldiers who had been sneaking through the trees to run into them instead.
And then he was gone, flailing his way around another bend and disappearing from sight – at least from that vantage point. The chase was likely far from over, especially if that assassin was going to be involved.
Christofer had, it seemed, been largely been left behind in the chaos, considering that, as Nirix went on her counter-assault some distance away, he found himself alone once again with Agent 4/20 who was, as usual, taking the rearmost position of the squad. He had been trotting silently down the otherwise secluded pathway when hailed by the strange fellow from earlier, stopped and turned around.
“We’re here after Devil Eye. If you don’t know he’s an extremely dangerous criminal and you should be sure to keep clear of him. Keep clear of us too, since usually our policy is to eliminate anyone Devil Eye associates with, which now means you. Lay low, this is not a game. Now I’m not stopping to talk because this is very important and I don’t have the time. Don’t get yourself killed.”
And with that he took off at a sprint, arcing wide around the area where Nirix was fighting so as to avoid the otherwise inevitable death. 4/20 had always had a way of being more observant than his comrades and it had saved his life on more than enough occasions to make it a worthwhile trait.
Gaelan Yascra gave a knowing, assenting grin at the Ranger’s suggesting that a shoot-on-sight policy for Drakis Volo would be mutually beneficial. Of course, he didn’t really want to kill the man either, but most could agree that the man was largely intolerable.
“Hm, impressive isn’t it?” He replied to the Ranger’s awe at the Stella’s vast, shiny arsenal. “All hand-tooled by yours-truly, most reliable pieces in the ‘Verse.” He did seem proud of his work, though speaking always in a voice that – again – might be imagined as that of an anthropomorphic snake. He was calm and otherwise quiet as well, certainly better fit for company even if he did look like he’d just crawled from the Caves of the Falmer. He didn’t have much to say until prompted again – at which point he gave a sardonic smirk. “Unfortunately yes – in fact he’s probably the best mechanic this side of the Galaxy. The man’s as gifted with machines as he is irritating, almost makes it worth it to try and endure his presence…I hate to say it but it’s best to stay on his good side for that reason. The propulsion gas and radar he’ll be able to take care of – I don’t know anything about ERIS but if it’s mechanical or cybernetic he can handle it. Anything more computer-based Harkahn will be able to take care of.”
Hopefully this Harkahn character wouldn’t be half as obnoxious as the master mechanic…but then, someone who was as good with computers as Volo was machines would have to be some kind of spectacle.
It wouldn’t be long before the Ranger would find out for himself. After he had collected whatever he could carry from the armory – If any of his weapons required maintenance Gaelan would take care of that while the Ranger browsed and return a fantastically refurbished product – at last he would find himself back at the door. It opened and sure enough, there was Drakis Volo, standing right where they had left him, smiling that infuriating smile of his through scraggly facial-tufts. With an equal misfortune he would begin speaking the very millisecond that the door was opened, and he wouldn’t stop again for a long, long while.
“Pretty great selection huh? Yascra really knows his stuff...once had a missile launcher that...never seen anything like it, it was…and how about the…y’know it’s kind of funny that we’ve got all those guns because Stella doesn’t have any real militant force to speak of, I think the Commodore just likes to collect things…whole collection of old cannons, must’a been…and you shoulda’ seen when she…there was this Falscian prostitute y’see…sixteen days later she…with a box of fancy cigars and five thousand standard…and this other time there was….and then…”
And on…and on…and on…
Luckily it wasn’t too hard to make him believe one was actually engaged in his one-way conversation. A few nods would do the trick – and as before he would be blissfully oblivious to any subtle attempts at making him shut up.
It was a painfully long process, getting to the mechanical bay and having any repairs, refurbishes, restorations or refilling done. It would be an interesting time, however it would go down, when the time would come for him to work on the Ranger’s mask. Naturally he was persistently curious to see the madman’s face, but if he ended up just having to do his repairs without removing it, he would eventually assent and go ahead with the job.
After what would surely feel like a few lifetimes, Drakis would announce that he had finished, stand back and brush his hands off in a ‘job-well-done’ gesture. Sure enough, anything within his expertise was good-as-new.
“Sure beats Mick’n Ralph’s, huh!” He said, using an old and very versatile expression as he poked his ear and spoke – the habit was mutual among the crew it seemed, putting a finger to the ear to indicate to those around them that they were talking to someone via BrainPal. “He’s all yours Dorin.” Drakis said, and then continued blathering on about nothing for some five minutes until the computer-science man showed up.
He was exactly what one would expect to see in a computer-science man. Average of build and height, dressed in black canvas pants and matching boots with a blue shirt with loose black tie beneath long, white coat. It was a widely known fact that he liked his coat and didn’t care how stereotypical it made him look – he was rather outspoken on the matter when addressed.Otherwise he appeared to be in his late twenties, had an unintentionally-fashionable ‘do of sandy brown hair, and thin-framed glasses that reflected strikingly when he made a point – he’d be the envy of the whole Hellsing Organization, even if most folks agreed that he should polish the lenses less.
He appeared in the doorway to the great mechanics bay, gave a vaguely sympathetic smile and waved him over. Drakis went on with some variety of overdrawn farewell.
“I don’t need to see your face to know that you look like you’ve just scaled the Mountains of Madness.” He said, good-humoredly. “I don’t know what Tiana sees in that man. I couldn’t imagine trying to actually live in the same house as him.” A tiny, involuntary shudder, but a quick recovery. “Anyhow, as it goes I’m Dorin Harkahn and I’ll be patching up whatever Motor-Mouth couldn’t. Then we’ll get to have some good old battlefront comradery down on the surface-“ He hesitated, realizing that he might need to provide more of an explanation therein. “Admiral Petrovalyc wants you to come down with myself and Aleessa – you’ll meet her later – to bring back that rogue sapient he’s been after. Looks like the thing’s sitting in the snow up in the ‘Siberia’ continent, just a couple dozen miles out of a little city ‘Kartupelis’ or something like that. I wonder what it translates to?”
So, Dr. Harkahn wasn’t nearly as annoying as Volo. In comparison he probably seemed fantastic – but he did tend to ramble and digress a whole lot…As if his stereotypical scientist getup wasn’t complete enough without the associated speech habits.
“Ah, probably nothing.” A dismissive wave of the hand. “Anyway. You mentioned you needed some ERIS stuff? I don’t have anything brand-name but I can fix what you’ve got and get you suited with a good equivalent for anything you need replaced…”
That said, they boarded another railcar, took off, and fifteen minutes later came to another station. Through the gate, up some stairs, left, right, right, left, downstairs, left, left, hard right, U-turn, elevator 2 floors up and they were at Harkahn’s lab, which was exactly what a scientists workspace should look like. He would work quickly and efficiently, only rambling on a little bit. Certainly could be worse…
Mr. Petrovalyc was as stony-calm as ever, just as emotionally dull as always – but there was a growing sense of urgency about him. He smiled knowingly at Kampfer’s try at hitting a nerve – the Lord had only aided him in his argument. Besides, there were much more sensitive spots to prod at. Still he was being sent everything his research team could find on Dimensional Lords – which was scant indeed – but a theory in some centuries-old thesis paper perked his interest. More ammunition, he thought.
“So you’re a stable group then – for that you have my utmost respect. But explain to me this, Doctor. You say that I am blinded by power and looking to intimidate others to bend them to me. Blinded by power? Perhaps – but isn’t it you, who at this very moment is pushing me around? You’re trying to intimidate me Doctor, trying to bend me to your will. Your reasons for this are irrelevant, just or otherwise. The point is that you’re proving to me with each and every word that you are no different and no better than a human.” It seemed he was trying to strike a nerve in return.
The Lord’s impatience was rising. He shouted at Aelyn, demanded an answer – and to Aelyn himself this was an impending victory…Or at least going in the right direction. Realistically he knew that neither side would reach a /victory/ here.
He continued to ignore Kampfer’s offer, glazed right over it infuriatingly. Kampfer might have had a vastly superior force to the Admiral, but Aelyn-Paeryc Petrovalyc was a master of his emotions…and the emotions of others – through no means save for common emotional manipulation.
“Think, Doctor. Think.” He tapped his temple with an index finger – it was the first time he had given any sort of gestural body language, and this would doubtless make it that much more telling. It was as if he knew something the Doctor did not – unlikely as this was, whether or not it was true, he was doing a fantastic job of making it apparent. It was as if he could see a man with a gun standing behind the Doctor and was only waiting for him to say the trigger-word to justify the kill. This was not true of course – certainly not literally – but he was doing a downright knockdown performance in making it seem that way. “Use that fantastic Dimensional-mind of yours and think through this thoroughly. Is there any reason you might benefit from allying with me as opposed to making an enemy of me? Any reason at all?”
Yes, yes! There must have been some reason that Kampfer wasn’t seeing. It was as though Aelyn were giving him opportunity after opportunity, chance after chance to see the Captain’s trump card, urging him to find it before…before…
Before what?
The boy wasn't on his swiftest. His attempts on reaching out after the soldier were meaningless, the other one was already long gone when he had got himself away from the tree. His head couldn't comprehend with the words he was spoken. It was all just.. so... stupid...
The German would trip on his own feet after trying to walk after the others, or whichever direction his wobbly legs tooks him. Too tired to get up, Christofer would slowly black out and faint, feeling dizzy, with the gunshots and alike echoing in his head...
The German would trip on his own feet after trying to walk after the others, or whichever direction his wobbly legs tooks him. Too tired to get up, Christofer would slowly black out and faint, feeling dizzy, with the gunshots and alike echoing in his head...
Kampfer tilted his head down with his arms crossed, evidence that Kampfer is done dealing with Aelyn and his pointless questioning of him. As raised his head he realizeed the operator was signaling more things about the fleet, something more unexpected and frightening for the operator. Kampfer smiled at him and nodded at him. He returned his attention back to Aelyn and said "Aelyn, I am done vith zis senseless questioning...to answer your offer of being my ally, it should be YOU vho vants to be my ally." he smiled and then continued "As an old video game character vould say Ve are many, and you are but one, meaning zat I have a much superior production and scientific capabilities and able to do it in various locations all over the galaxy, unlike you who only as that one ship with a civilian population on it, so one disastrous strike on your ship and your done" KAmpfer smile got even wider. "I don't need you Aelyn, you need me and I am intent to reclaim your tech either by force or not, and then..." he paused as his face and smile finally broke down into a look that shows Kampfer has no ethical boundaries and the real him, the him that made him feared around galaxy and with absurd bounty on his head "...take you and your sibling and CUT YOU UP AND EXPERIMENT UPON BOTH OF YOUR BODIES FOR MY OWN AMUSEMENT!!!" he yelled as he raises his claw hand and flexed it a bit to show that he was serious. "I AM DONE VITH YOU, AELYN! I SHALL LEAVE YOU TO YOUR FATE" he said with his really scary face as he disconnected his part with the monitor and sound and turned towards the operator and ordered "TELL ZE FLEET TO RELEASE ZE DETAINED DENDRIL INFECTED CRAFT AND SEND IT TOWARDS ZE OVER SIZED JUNK YARD OF A SHIP...MAKE SURE IT HAS ZAT REPLACEMENT ATOM MODULE!". The operator immediately did what Kampfer ordered him to do and communicated to the fleet to release the craft. Another opertor entered and approached Kampfer vith news "Sir, we were able to decypt some of there communications and there after the droid we dropped and we have the location of it too" he said as he handed the mad scientist the report. Kampfer looked over it with his still sadistic smile he said "Zis great, it is not zat far from ze city...send a patrol to retrieve it and I'll send Maria over to oversee the city with commander Louie...I bet ve are going to see Aleyn soon" he Kampfer started to laugh manically as he exited the commander center for a minute.
Soon a patrol, mostly a doc-bot patrol with a few Z-bots, was dispatch to check the surrounding area for the droid. After a few hours they saw it and start and made there way to retrieve it and bring it back to the city.
Out of warp a mysterious ship came in at really high speed. As the ship got closer to its destination, it can be identified as a small luxury liner that was lost in space only a few years ago. The nice white and blue trim on it gave way on two rather large dark green tubes sticking out of it on it side giving off fumes into the emptiness of space...a tall tell sign that the vessel is infected by the Dendrils. The ship itself swung around the moon using gravity assist and having a collision course with towards the Viventrum.
Soon a patrol, mostly a doc-bot patrol with a few Z-bots, was dispatch to check the surrounding area for the droid. After a few hours they saw it and start and made there way to retrieve it and bring it back to the city.
Out of warp a mysterious ship came in at really high speed. As the ship got closer to its destination, it can be identified as a small luxury liner that was lost in space only a few years ago. The nice white and blue trim on it gave way on two rather large dark green tubes sticking out of it on it side giving off fumes into the emptiness of space...a tall tell sign that the vessel is infected by the Dendrils. The ship itself swung around the moon using gravity assist and having a collision course with towards the Viventrum.
Bravo awoke from his sleep mode in response to being carried by the Doc-bots and Z-bots and struggled to get free "What? Other synthetics? Where did you come from? Where were we going?" he asked and came out several questions. He stayed on alert being cautious of the bots around him. Swiveling his head left and right keeping an eye on the various bots keeping his sensors on overdrive they were all functioning past their purposed levels of expectation and in a red zone where Bravo was threatening his own temporary shut down.
After clearing out the space station and putting the station under Kampfer's control, she soon arrived to the occupied Siberian city of Kartupelis via dropship. As she got out she was met with snow on the ground of the square and a wintery breeze meeting her face. "Damn, from a climate control space station to the god forsaken city of snow" she said to herself as she walked towards Commander Louie who was waiting for her. "Greetings, Lock-on, I hope the trip was okay for you" he greeted her with a pleasant smile. She looked at him and scuffed at him, interested at the incoming patrol that carried Bravo. The commanding X-bot approached to her and said "This is the droid that Lord Kampfer has ordered us to hand over". Maria was surprised that she will have to take care of an arcade relic from the past but she nodded the Z-bot to bring the Bravo over. Maria ordered Bravo's capture's to bring him the the interrogation room in the unoccupied police station, so she and droid can get to know each other. With Bravo released from his imprisonment and on a sitting in a chair in the plain room with just Maria on the other side of a table and a over head lamp. Maria looked at him and leaned on the table and said "Who are you and what is you goal, my robotic friend" trying to win the trust of the droid
"I am Combat Droid 407 Bravo, most call me Bravo" Bravo took a second to look around the room making tiny adjustments to his gyros necessary "My intentions however are not so easily revealable, I have been told to keep my creators greatest secret under what he referred to as Under lock and key" Bravo's way of saying this was very soft and in a sense mysterious as to how he was programmed, for being an archaic machine he sure was smart for one. "Why am I so important for you and your crew?"
Maria leaned back on the chair and blotted her mechanical feet on the table and shook her head "Alright, so I am guessing your creators are in the giant space ship in the sky uh?" she said looking at the droid. "Well Bravo, I really don't know why my father has put you under my care" she said as she took out her Du pont reserved rum and took a swig out of it. As she placed it on the table she said "If you can drink, drink it, its really good" as she gently pushed the bottle towards the war machine. "Bravo, all I know is that you are under my care, we have to stay in the city for a little bit...Oh my name is Maria by the way" she said as she crossed her arms at Bravo.
"Long Range Marker Type 72..." - The Ranger muttered, carefully sliding his artificial fingers over the weapon's body. - "Muzzle velocity of 5000 ms. Target-binding magnetic-lock drive coupled with a smart fifty-fold zoom scope."
He did not hesitate to immediately get his grip unto the artifact. It was not a classified piece of hardware just because a far away galactic government felt like hiding it. Armored vehicles, small cruisers, battle mechs. At the hands of the right person, the LRM T-72 can easily put an end to anything as far as the eye can not see.
"If the target's at the edge of the horizon, this gun will earn me my bounty."
Attaching the weapon unto his shoulder holster, the Ranger packed a couple of magazines deep into his coat, nothing else in the arsenal really caught his interest. What was not some sort of fragile energy-based hardware, probably did not match the versatily of a Lucian Defender paired with expensive cybernetic limbs. Although old, his diamond-tipped nanocarbon bowie knife had more uses than katanas, energy blades and all the fancy 'hero stuff' available in Yascra's armory.
With a dry nod, the Ranger let out a simple "Thanks." as he led his way towards the exit, only to be met with an old 'friend'. It was the mechanic again. Once again, the Ranger could only throw more nods at Drakis, slothfully agreeing and disagreeing most of his questions.
However, the Ranger soon saw some compensation after enduring such ear bleeding torture: Brand new thermo-repellant nanocarbonite trench coat, complete with a leather finish. Niobium-titanium armor plates swapped from his vest. Main and backup batteries replaced by enhanced lithium-ion ones. Boots upgraded from standard gasoline propulsion to hydrogen and full revamp of the cybernetic structure of the Ranger's arms. EMP protection fuses swapped, explosive impact and electric discharge gauntlets repaired and a throughout recondition of his hydraulic joints.
Volo had complete liberty tinker with every component of the Ranger's armor, excluding his mask and - most critically - his chest. No matter how tattered his pitch black tank-top were, the Masked Man simply refused every offer for swapping it. The same reaction with his mask.
"No surprise from a Gun Runner like you." - Chuckling, the Masked Man muttered to Drakis, before quietly fading his presence away. Soon, another meaningful-looking person came into view. The Ranger never was much of a fan of scientist stereotypes, regardless if their intentions were malign or completely the opposite, but, surely, after Yascra and Drakin, this Dorin Harkhan certainly felt like a change of pace. "Armor and bionics like that won't come in cheap, I'm quite grateful, but, ******* it, he should shatter the platter. And, being honest..." - For some reason, the Ranger's visor seemed to reflect the lights around into a strong, crimson glow - "There are worse men in the universe."
Shrugging off what Harkhan said thereafter, the Ranger wasn't really worried about the purposes of his upcoming 'mission'. As far as how things works, the Ranger just were bothered about Harkhan and Aleessa's part in it, if they were going to take any direct action on the 'job', that is... But, what was that... ? Siberia? The Original Earth, according to many of the Ranger's findings, had an exactly icy region on it. Maybe a space civilization were mass producing copycats of Earth?
"Kartupelis... ? 'Dunno, but it makes me long for a roasted potato."
The Masked Man did switch tilt his head one time or another but most of the trip he just kept in dead silence, only letting out his constant lightsaber-wielding evil admiral until they were finally at the lab. The facility struck the Ranger with some sort of masochistic nostalgia of this kind of ambient...
"No ERIS'? No surprise. Need it, but I'll be fine without a think-tank surgery. You could probably provide me with a automatic targeting device or anything that won't require you to mess with my skull."
He did not hesitate to immediately get his grip unto the artifact. It was not a classified piece of hardware just because a far away galactic government felt like hiding it. Armored vehicles, small cruisers, battle mechs. At the hands of the right person, the LRM T-72 can easily put an end to anything as far as the eye can not see.
"If the target's at the edge of the horizon, this gun will earn me my bounty."
Attaching the weapon unto his shoulder holster, the Ranger packed a couple of magazines deep into his coat, nothing else in the arsenal really caught his interest. What was not some sort of fragile energy-based hardware, probably did not match the versatily of a Lucian Defender paired with expensive cybernetic limbs. Although old, his diamond-tipped nanocarbon bowie knife had more uses than katanas, energy blades and all the fancy 'hero stuff' available in Yascra's armory.
With a dry nod, the Ranger let out a simple "Thanks." as he led his way towards the exit, only to be met with an old 'friend'. It was the mechanic again. Once again, the Ranger could only throw more nods at Drakis, slothfully agreeing and disagreeing most of his questions.
However, the Ranger soon saw some compensation after enduring such ear bleeding torture: Brand new thermo-repellant nanocarbonite trench coat, complete with a leather finish. Niobium-titanium armor plates swapped from his vest. Main and backup batteries replaced by enhanced lithium-ion ones. Boots upgraded from standard gasoline propulsion to hydrogen and full revamp of the cybernetic structure of the Ranger's arms. EMP protection fuses swapped, explosive impact and electric discharge gauntlets repaired and a throughout recondition of his hydraulic joints.
Volo had complete liberty tinker with every component of the Ranger's armor, excluding his mask and - most critically - his chest. No matter how tattered his pitch black tank-top were, the Masked Man simply refused every offer for swapping it. The same reaction with his mask.
"No surprise from a Gun Runner like you." - Chuckling, the Masked Man muttered to Drakis, before quietly fading his presence away. Soon, another meaningful-looking person came into view. The Ranger never was much of a fan of scientist stereotypes, regardless if their intentions were malign or completely the opposite, but, surely, after Yascra and Drakin, this Dorin Harkhan certainly felt like a change of pace. "Armor and bionics like that won't come in cheap, I'm quite grateful, but, ******* it, he should shatter the platter. And, being honest..." - For some reason, the Ranger's visor seemed to reflect the lights around into a strong, crimson glow - "There are worse men in the universe."
Shrugging off what Harkhan said thereafter, the Ranger wasn't really worried about the purposes of his upcoming 'mission'. As far as how things works, the Ranger just were bothered about Harkhan and Aleessa's part in it, if they were going to take any direct action on the 'job', that is... But, what was that... ? Siberia? The Original Earth, according to many of the Ranger's findings, had an exactly icy region on it. Maybe a space civilization were mass producing copycats of Earth?
"Kartupelis... ? 'Dunno, but it makes me long for a roasted potato."
The Masked Man did switch tilt his head one time or another but most of the trip he just kept in dead silence, only letting out his constant lightsaber-wielding evil admiral until they were finally at the lab. The facility struck the Ranger with some sort of masochistic nostalgia of this kind of ambient...
"No ERIS'? No surprise. Need it, but I'll be fine without a think-tank surgery. You could probably provide me with a automatic targeting device or anything that won't require you to mess with my skull."
"You do not understand" The droid Bravo sat up in his chair leaning forward "My creators are much older than the Viventium or it's captain, much older" The droid said "In the shadows of my moon I am more ancient than what I appear to be" Bravo said in a quoting manner "The stars align with my structures, we form a map, and different routes to planets" Bravo said than sat back into a chilled manner in his seat "This is what eventually lead the humans from Earth, to Mars" He stated and clasped his hands together "This is also where my creators lay resting, hidden from every eye in the galaxy until their creations return, or so it is said among others"
"Hmmmm" she said still leaning back on the chair stroking her metal chin. "Now I wonder...can you tell more about your creators, if can" she asked hoping the droid willfully tell her as she sat up on the chair and leaned on the table, her face only a couple of inches from Bravo "So, Bravo is there any reason you can think of on why the Viventium has taken an interest in you, by any chance?" She asked as she stared down the droid with her red and blue eyes
"Drawing data" Bravo took a second to retrieve the information asked of from his core "The information I can provide you is limited" Bravo said as he began first with the information on the Viventium "They are after my knowledge of Earth, no one can know of my information until deemed ready or worthy of knowing" Bravo stated "They wish to convert me is my best guess otherwise i'd be nothing but scrap to them" Bravo then returned his focus "If you wish to use the knowledge I have available about my creators i'd be more than happy to share"
Maria once again leaned back the chair and said in sad tone "I know how it feels to be used and thrown away like junk" with a sigh she continued "Well I could always ask my father, but it'll be nice to know more about your creators coming from someone who knew them" she looked at the droid and asked another question "So how does one become worthy to know your knowledge?" Maria hopes to learn as much from Bravo as she can so she knows what she's into
Bravo's chest opened and a hologram projector shined an image of a moon that hovered just above the table in front of them "They must find the key that opens the ancient gateway hidden in the shadows of the angel moon" Bravo stated as he pointed a finger at the holographic image of a moon or what it looked to be at least. Craters dotted the entire surface of the moon and a trench circled the entire ball of mass disconnecting one side of the moons surface from the other as if it were a large game of conquest.
Maria examined the hologram of the moon and seemed intrigue by it. "I have been pass this moon lots of times, but I didn't realize it has a big secret in it" she said looking at hologram in more detail. "I don't know by the key's though, I'm just a bounty hunter, but I think this is what the Viventium may be after" she said out loud letting Bravo know what she thought. "Anyway, you look like hammered s***, so lets get you cleaned up, waxed and those cracks on your body filled up" she said as she got up looking at Bravo. "You will feel so much better, plus the tent for that is at the city square, just right outside" she said as she gestured towards the droid to follow her.
Bravo got up without any more words said and willingly followed Maria "You noted that you passed by this moon many times, have you ever experienced strange anomalies?" he asked and closed his front holographic imaging port. Readying his systems for temporary shutdown for maintenance as was standard protocol for him "These humans, lost from their home, built copies of my model, but they weren't as efficient, nor as smart as a man would say, they were more for war or construction work where a human would normally be" He stated "And the Viventium seems extremely biased on the usage of it's technology, almost like a relic from Earth"
Maria turn towards Bravo before she exited the room and said "I haven't detected any strange anomalies every time I go pass it...to me it's just a flying space rock" she continued to look at Bravo and said "I may not have the answers, but I do believe I know someone who does...anyway before you shut down, let's get you to the tent and clean you up, does that sound fine?" She looked at Bravo hoping the droid would accept her offer
"Would do me better than just a scheduled software check" Bravo said gladly following behind Marias and came up with a quick question "Whom do you think has the answer I am looking for?" He asked wondering exactly whom she has connections to that could possibly have what he seeks. As he followed Maria into the tent to get cleaned Bravo looked around and scanned the entire zone "Seems you come prepared with all the tools you possess"
As Maria entered the tent right behind Bravo she answered "Well when your father happens to be a powerful being who basically controls technology then you get a lot of perks with that" She soon went a drawer and got out a tube filled with some kind light blue stuff and she reapproached Bravo she answers his question "Well I do know someone who knows a lot about the universe and is the keeper of time and space basically, she always has this craving for knowledge and has a butt ton of books about some many different things, from ancient civilizations to the answers of life etc, etc...the only problem is getting to her since she is basically surrounded with creatures that will just kill you on sight" she squeezed the fluid on her metal hand and started to rub it on Bravo's arm, seeing the dirt grime and scratches turn into metal fresh off the assembly line. As she cleaned the droid she an idea pop into her head " Actually meeting her wouldn't be so hard for you or me, well one your not living so those creatures will most likely leave you alone as long you don't shoot them and me, well most of my body has there parts so to them I am just like them to some degree"
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