Of course, converting an escape pod into a boarding vessel does have its limits and the the enemy ship is something more than a scout ship, then this escape pod turned boarding vessel will just splat on the side of the ship with all hands lost because of the possible thick hull. It was an escape pod...not a dendril boarding pod. For the cat this was there problem and not his. As for the Skadi, it remained unresponsive, purposely not returning the Koolest Boats call. However tracking it isn't hard because of its ridiculous size, but from its trajectory, it seemed that Catheroine had a change of her cold heart as the ship made its way towards the Mall, after hearing the Mall's distress call for help. As for the El Dorado. , Atticus replied "I'm sorry, but this ship isn't made for combat, we don't have such weapons on the ship, the heavy laser is for mining not for combat, I'm just here for the Cat Merchant within your ship"
As the meeting went on, Laurent on the top of the tank with shotgun in hand and went inside the tank. He soon came out wearing a old dirty space helmet and a red tight space suit, that left little to the imagination, but the little backpack was made of brass giving it a nice look. He looks at them and says "I'm not doing such a thing, once you leave, I am leaving...saving Rin and squinty man commander is your problem now, not mine. Plus I doubt they would be coming back since it seems they got what they want. Either way I am not part of this plan and I am leaving, and that's why my ship is nearby...its here to pick me up as well as my toy" as he rubs the top of his tank. "If you are still heading towards Ova's planet, then go ask Erica for that" he says as he made a grumpy face and slowly lowed himself back into the tank away from the group.
As the meeting went on, Laurent on the top of the tank with shotgun in hand and went inside the tank. He soon came out wearing a old dirty space helmet and a red tight space suit, that left little to the imagination, but the little backpack was made of brass giving it a nice look. He looks at them and says "I'm not doing such a thing, once you leave, I am leaving...saving Rin and squinty man commander is your problem now, not mine. Plus I doubt they would be coming back since it seems they got what they want. Either way I am not part of this plan and I am leaving, and that's why my ship is nearby...its here to pick me up as well as my toy" as he rubs the top of his tank. "If you are still heading towards Ova's planet, then go ask Erica for that" he says as he made a grumpy face and slowly lowed himself back into the tank away from the group.
Kovacs merely opened his helmet, the visor receding and the faceplates separating like a sego lily. He wasn't hungry, but knew that he needed to eat something to keep up his strength. The commander grabbed a tube of flavorless nutripaste and squeezed its contents into his mouth. Any normal marine would complain that it tasted like cardboard au gravel, but the Pilot didn't care.
It was just another meal.
His snack finished, he tossed it in the disposal and walked over to Ellen. Kovacs settled an oddly friendly hand on her shoulder before reaching out to pat the little slime on the head. With that, he left for the bridge to manually pilot the two hundred metre warship.
Having gotten changed into a skintight Remlok suit, the rubberized armorweave hugged his body while specialized duraplast plating covered particularly important areas. It was heavily modified, especially considering the duraplast, which was a very recent alloy of carbo-plastoid and silicon nanolaminate. This made a type of plastic that was almost as strong as steel with the tensile strength of fibreglass at a tenth of the weight.
The suit was one of Kovacs' latest pet projects, and after deciding that he liked the feel of it, he felt like being generous. Pulling up Major Zuraw's personnel file that had retrieved from her planet's databanks before exfil, he skimmed the sections that he had already read, coming to a stop over her physical profile.
Slim, agile, top marks in fitness and perfect eyesight and hearing. Reflexes were phenomenal, numerous recommendations for pilot training. Kovacs would have to evaluate her himself once she was fully rested. After he put in a fabrication order for another, much smaller Remlok-U/A, he sat back in his seat to read up on the rest of Asya's team, letting the corvette skim fuel from the star beneath them.
It was just another meal.
His snack finished, he tossed it in the disposal and walked over to Ellen. Kovacs settled an oddly friendly hand on her shoulder before reaching out to pat the little slime on the head. With that, he left for the bridge to manually pilot the two hundred metre warship.
Having gotten changed into a skintight Remlok suit, the rubberized armorweave hugged his body while specialized duraplast plating covered particularly important areas. It was heavily modified, especially considering the duraplast, which was a very recent alloy of carbo-plastoid and silicon nanolaminate. This made a type of plastic that was almost as strong as steel with the tensile strength of fibreglass at a tenth of the weight.
The suit was one of Kovacs' latest pet projects, and after deciding that he liked the feel of it, he felt like being generous. Pulling up Major Zuraw's personnel file that had retrieved from her planet's databanks before exfil, he skimmed the sections that he had already read, coming to a stop over her physical profile.
Slim, agile, top marks in fitness and perfect eyesight and hearing. Reflexes were phenomenal, numerous recommendations for pilot training. Kovacs would have to evaluate her himself once she was fully rested. After he put in a fabrication order for another, much smaller Remlok-U/A, he sat back in his seat to read up on the rest of Asya's team, letting the corvette skim fuel from the star beneath them.
Reqti saw the moment it clicked for Rai- that maybe they heading for a trap- and decided to make himself known.
Just give up already.
He dialed down the volume on his headpiece and fired at the wall, leaping through it and quickly shooting a bolt aether-enhanced energy at the two prisoners- right in the middle, next to their heads.
He stood, space helmet black and void of any telling expressions. He spun his staff, sparks and lightning running over the weapon like spidery cracks of glass.
Rai's face was tortured, torn between firing right away or weighing the value of words. They bit their lip... then frowned.
"Reqti!" they said, voice wavering uncertainly. They swallowed, then tried again. "This isn't right!"
If it's so wrong, then why do you look so…?
He tensed behind the mask. The aethermancer, likely seeing the tension, took a step back.
Good. Get out of here.
"Then battle me for your belief in falsity," he replied- and swung.
This is not your fight-!
CLANG.
The Nyran was holding their short staff up, blade meeting the sharp points of his weapon. In his surprise he lessened his pressured attack, which gave the Nyran the opportunity to push the staff away and step back into a more ready stance.
No…
"I will fight you," they said. It was low. It was lonely. It was so close to desperate.
But, then again... so was he.
He pointed his staff at them, straight, unwavering. “For Lord Qetashna."
He SPRUNG-
Rai knew it might be the end for them.
Which is why they leapt back, twisted- and pushed Tsuan into the transporter.
“Press the top button!” they yelled- and turned around, blocking another swing and giving a vicious swipe of their own. They reached inside the small space, pressed a large button, and quickly disappeared from sight as the doors closed and they snatched their hand back to slap away another blow with their dagger-staff.
It was up to Tsuan now.
Just give up already.
He dialed down the volume on his headpiece and fired at the wall, leaping through it and quickly shooting a bolt aether-enhanced energy at the two prisoners- right in the middle, next to their heads.
He stood, space helmet black and void of any telling expressions. He spun his staff, sparks and lightning running over the weapon like spidery cracks of glass.
Rai's face was tortured, torn between firing right away or weighing the value of words. They bit their lip... then frowned.
"Reqti!" they said, voice wavering uncertainly. They swallowed, then tried again. "This isn't right!"
If it's so wrong, then why do you look so…?
He tensed behind the mask. The aethermancer, likely seeing the tension, took a step back.
Good. Get out of here.
"Then battle me for your belief in falsity," he replied- and swung.
This is not your fight-!
CLANG.
The Nyran was holding their short staff up, blade meeting the sharp points of his weapon. In his surprise he lessened his pressured attack, which gave the Nyran the opportunity to push the staff away and step back into a more ready stance.
No…
"I will fight you," they said. It was low. It was lonely. It was so close to desperate.
But, then again... so was he.
He pointed his staff at them, straight, unwavering. “For Lord Qetashna."
He SPRUNG-
Rai knew it might be the end for them.
Which is why they leapt back, twisted- and pushed Tsuan into the transporter.
“Press the top button!” they yelled- and turned around, blocking another swing and giving a vicious swipe of their own. They reached inside the small space, pressed a large button, and quickly disappeared from sight as the doors closed and they snatched their hand back to slap away another blow with their dagger-staff.
It was up to Tsuan now.
The door.
If he decided that Rai could be trusted, the room he would find himself to be in- well- the hallway, that is- would be much shorter then the one below. The door in front would be new, as well. A password would be needed to open the door.
If you insist on the door...
The room would be difficult to get in. He would need a plan- to negotiate, to threaten, or perhaps hack into the room-
Or something infinitely more simple.
Nevertheless, if he succeeded...
A dark, sleek laboratory would meet his eyes the moment he went in. Containers filled with liquids, a wall of weapons, scrolls and books on a table. All in precise, methodical order.
And right in the middle, laid out on a glowing platform...
Or something infinitely more simple.
Nevertheless, if he succeeded...
A dark, sleek laboratory would meet his eyes the moment he went in. Containers filled with liquids, a wall of weapons, scrolls and books on a table. All in precise, methodical order.
And right in the middle, laid out on a glowing platform...
The paths.
There would be two paths, separated, it would seem, by the room in the middle- and it wouldn’t matter which way he went, because they would all lead to the very front of the ship.
If you take the paths less traveled…
The control room would have two seats, buttons all in the same unknown language that adorned the rest of the ship. Aside from that… nothing.
…Well.
Not really.
Because there would be a click and the soft press of a stunner at his back.
“What do we have here,” Tahil whispered, voice dripping like poisoned honey.
…Well.
Not really.
Because there would be a click and the soft press of a stunner at his back.
“What do we have here,” Tahil whispered, voice dripping like poisoned honey.
The kiss came out of nowhere.
One minute Wick was fumbling over his words, staring at her with eyes of panic and yet a swirl of something long forgotten, the next he was kissing Nirix, his hand clasped gently into the back of her hair, pressing in softly. After a few seconds, he broke away and smiled before simply running away and out of her sight. Wick had simply retreated and left the Eoclu assassin casually leaning against the wall.
She realized, almost as a side thought, that she was smiling. There wasn't a look of pure outrage that most would've expected, nor a look of shock or confusion. It was just a smile and a shimmer in the pools of lavender that she called her eyes. Nirix parted her lips to speak, to utter a sound or release a breath but whatever it was, it died on her lips.
And then it was all gone, just as soon as it had come.
No emotion or feeling. A display of emptiness that held something hidden within.
"Da'len, I trust you are feeling better?" Nirix asked Ketin upon his approach. She noticed his cheerful demeanor had returned and that he was whistling a happy tune. Another smile found her face as she crushed the slip of paper in a tight fist. Casually, she shoved it in her pocket as if it and it's owner never existed. Had that exchange even happened?
"I have already eaten but I would not mind accompanying you and Arnaldo." Her words were calm, warming even. The Assassin appeared to be all but denying the existence of the kiss with mere silence and aloofness. However, it was quite the opposite, instead.
Nirix was not denying it. She was denying the feeling that she feared would one day creep back into her heart. Her mind was like the calm before the storm, however, and a single thought floated in her mind.
The kiss was warm just like the blood that flowed through her quivering heart.
One minute Wick was fumbling over his words, staring at her with eyes of panic and yet a swirl of something long forgotten, the next he was kissing Nirix, his hand clasped gently into the back of her hair, pressing in softly. After a few seconds, he broke away and smiled before simply running away and out of her sight. Wick had simply retreated and left the Eoclu assassin casually leaning against the wall.
She realized, almost as a side thought, that she was smiling. There wasn't a look of pure outrage that most would've expected, nor a look of shock or confusion. It was just a smile and a shimmer in the pools of lavender that she called her eyes. Nirix parted her lips to speak, to utter a sound or release a breath but whatever it was, it died on her lips.
And then it was all gone, just as soon as it had come.
No emotion or feeling. A display of emptiness that held something hidden within.
"Da'len, I trust you are feeling better?" Nirix asked Ketin upon his approach. She noticed his cheerful demeanor had returned and that he was whistling a happy tune. Another smile found her face as she crushed the slip of paper in a tight fist. Casually, she shoved it in her pocket as if it and it's owner never existed. Had that exchange even happened?
"I have already eaten but I would not mind accompanying you and Arnaldo." Her words were calm, warming even. The Assassin appeared to be all but denying the existence of the kiss with mere silence and aloofness. However, it was quite the opposite, instead.
Nirix was not denying it. She was denying the feeling that she feared would one day creep back into her heart. Her mind was like the calm before the storm, however, and a single thought floated in her mind.
The kiss was warm just like the blood that flowed through her quivering heart.
More chuckles, amidst wheezing coughs, was the only answers to both Her confused and giggly frowns. Severin had probably stained his image after what he did. Even worse, he might have stained Wan Nabes' image with it, the man She would need to respect, or at least, pay attention in a near future. However, all of this was irrelevant. Benedict Severin was wielding an enormous force that trascended the very borders between Existence and NotExistence: Overjoyed laughs.
There was no being or unbeing throughout the Multiversal Frame that was stronger than that of happiness. And that was not sadistical enjoyment of one's destruction. It was light, simple humor. It was strong enough to, just in the surface, heal the wounds that an unforgiving sword and that a cosmic horror had unleashed on Her. It was enough.
Satisfied at her doubtful expression, the old man nodded as he pulled an empty 'chair', a 'chair' with 'wheels' on the tripod it rested on, pushing it towards the Girl. It landed just a few inches from bumping into her. Whatever that thing was, the astrophysicist probably expected her to do the same as the others in the room: Lay her rear section on the supple, leathery surface of the contraption. It wouldn't even matter what her reaction was, Severin would either nod eagerly at the slighest intention the Girl had of sitting down an just laugh it off if she pushed the chair away or just kept standing. Whatever took precedence, Severin would couple the notebook and pen together, and rapidly shove it on Her grasp.
His movements were sudden and firm. It gave a clear message that those objects were completely disposable and unimportant. If she paid attention, countless white sheets would be stacked on atop the many desks in the laboratory. Even more would be pinned to the walls, with a variety of symbols in many colors scribbled unto them. Some of the assistants would clump them into a ball and throw into small containers, smartly placed beside their desks, while others would stare firmly on the scribbled ones, devoting all of their sight to them. It gave a certain feeling of ambiguity to this white object. Of course, pens, and a multitude of similar cylindrical objects, would be numerous. They had different colors, different shapes, people wore them on their ears, others in their mouths and many in their hands, just like the Astrophysicist did.
And, regardless what did She do with the 'gifts', Severin would watch quietly, always with a wide, assuring smile on his wrinkly face. He observed Her cautiously, taking mental notes at her every gesture, theorizing about her civilization from the reactions She had. Wondering if the Cutlass still hurted. It still was all a little experiment. Perhaps between the two. He was eager to share and discover whatever knowledge each other may find about themselves.
However. An abrupt interruption took over. The Girl didn't even had time to finish before Severin's expression turning into one of the coldest, expressionless face she had ever seen. He reached a finger to the side of his goggles, and spoke firmly.
— Scanners might have been off due to Notspace. - Silence.
— ... Of course the radars won't... - Silence again.
— The CMB might still being affected too. - He averted his sight from her.
— ... Then use tell her to use the sextants, Wan, try to find NGC10-5439.
This when a shout deafened the gentle hums of machinery and bleeps of computers. And they were desperation questions.
— WHAT?! Stars?? Radiation?! NOTHING???
It was not only Her. Every single being in that room had suddenly stopped moving. True, horrified surprise plastered on their faces. Without any exception. They barely knew what was happening, but, whatever it was, it made Severin Ask. Hearts started to pound, chairs swirled to computer screens, lights went on, and the movement suddenly started again, albeit, much more desperate.
— Sir, verifying BD-Drive Status... A-OK.
— Anti-matter stability at 74%, 1495,342 grams remaining.
— ANOMALY BEHAVIOR DETECTED, SIR!!! Sensors... Are... NGC8 to... 10... Are... - Then, everyone would turn the one that was speaking, Severin included. His voice broke down, he started gasping.
— S-Se-sending the... D-Data, D-Doc...
For the first time, the Girl had felt the strange texture of the old man's palm on her own. Creased, sweating and cold. It held firmly unto Her's and, without any regard for Her well-being, it pushed. Severin bared his teeth as lines upon lines of symbols streamed on his computerized goggles. He was taking Her somewhere. They were getting away. Many scietists yelled orders at each other. Sound alarms went of and, soon, the voice returned.
— 'CAM 'DA <****> ON, SEVERIN!!! Hawlee <******> jayzus!! 'AYE CAN'T FIND 4439 EITHER!!! — It was him. His voice piercing every corner of these halls. But Severin just kept going, faster. The more lines that appeared on his sight, the more his expression would twist, the more he would cough. And the more he would speak rapidly to himself. — It's utterly impossible. The Anderson-Severin array couldn't find anything at the station. Nothing indicated this. There is no way. Is it Notspace? Was it Aelyn's doing? That idiot Erica?? Who could have possible done this? Is it just an error? Is 'Ssteea' truly safe with us?? Where the <****> is "safe"???
He was desperate. Then they finally reached that horrible place.
Thebridge Tactical Information Hall. TIH.
As it was expected, the dreaded Captain came right into their way. Severin immediately released her palm upon doing so. Now, there was no return. She did something terrible. Incredibly horrifying. And, now, her death was going to be much faster, will hurt more, and she would never be back again.
... But the man-in-white had ultimately ignored Her. His weapon was tightly sheathed on the contraption hanging on his waist. Instead, he started to yell at Severin... And such did it back.
— Tell 'my 'whatta <****> is 'goin on al- <******> -READY!!
— Working on it.
The same people from earlier, men and women clad in suits of armor, wearing white, elegant uniforms. Scientists, engineers, all started to flood the TIH focusing their eyes on the far end of the room, where a huge, black screen was stationed from one end to another of the hall. Severin and Wanheed, by now, didn't even care if she ran away or just stayed there. However, if she did, just by the time she would reach the doors out... A bright light came from behind her...
Thousands. Millions. Of varying glows of red, blue and orange. Some clumped together, others apart. With one region, the top-left corner, splattered with a void location, where none of those resided. Millions upon millions of stars had appeared right in front of The Mysterious Girl very eyes.
The Galaxy Wide now knew about it. Countless stars have disappeared from an blink of an eye. Where once was an unexplored region of the universe, now there was only a lifeless, lightless Void. It came out of nowhere. There was no warning, no signals, anything. They had just disappeared. Ceased to exist. Neither Captain A.P. Petrovalyc would suspect of it. Notspace had nothing to do with what just happened.
She did.
— ... They're...
— 'Thai 're <******> gone, Severin.
There was no being or unbeing throughout the Multiversal Frame that was stronger than that of happiness. And that was not sadistical enjoyment of one's destruction. It was light, simple humor. It was strong enough to, just in the surface, heal the wounds that an unforgiving sword and that a cosmic horror had unleashed on Her. It was enough.
Satisfied at her doubtful expression, the old man nodded as he pulled an empty 'chair', a 'chair' with 'wheels' on the tripod it rested on, pushing it towards the Girl. It landed just a few inches from bumping into her. Whatever that thing was, the astrophysicist probably expected her to do the same as the others in the room: Lay her rear section on the supple, leathery surface of the contraption. It wouldn't even matter what her reaction was, Severin would either nod eagerly at the slighest intention the Girl had of sitting down an just laugh it off if she pushed the chair away or just kept standing. Whatever took precedence, Severin would couple the notebook and pen together, and rapidly shove it on Her grasp.
His movements were sudden and firm. It gave a clear message that those objects were completely disposable and unimportant. If she paid attention, countless white sheets would be stacked on atop the many desks in the laboratory. Even more would be pinned to the walls, with a variety of symbols in many colors scribbled unto them. Some of the assistants would clump them into a ball and throw into small containers, smartly placed beside their desks, while others would stare firmly on the scribbled ones, devoting all of their sight to them. It gave a certain feeling of ambiguity to this white object. Of course, pens, and a multitude of similar cylindrical objects, would be numerous. They had different colors, different shapes, people wore them on their ears, others in their mouths and many in their hands, just like the Astrophysicist did.
And, regardless what did She do with the 'gifts', Severin would watch quietly, always with a wide, assuring smile on his wrinkly face. He observed Her cautiously, taking mental notes at her every gesture, theorizing about her civilization from the reactions She had. Wondering if the Cutlass still hurted. It still was all a little experiment. Perhaps between the two. He was eager to share and discover whatever knowledge each other may find about themselves.
However. An abrupt interruption took over. The Girl didn't even had time to finish before Severin's expression turning into one of the coldest, expressionless face she had ever seen. He reached a finger to the side of his goggles, and spoke firmly.
— Scanners might have been off due to Notspace. - Silence.
— ... Of course the radars won't... - Silence again.
— The CMB might still being affected too. - He averted his sight from her.
— ... Then use tell her to use the sextants, Wan, try to find NGC10-5439.
This when a shout deafened the gentle hums of machinery and bleeps of computers. And they were desperation questions.
— WHAT?! Stars?? Radiation?! NOTHING???
It was not only Her. Every single being in that room had suddenly stopped moving. True, horrified surprise plastered on their faces. Without any exception. They barely knew what was happening, but, whatever it was, it made Severin Ask. Hearts started to pound, chairs swirled to computer screens, lights went on, and the movement suddenly started again, albeit, much more desperate.
— Sir, verifying BD-Drive Status... A-OK.
— Anti-matter stability at 74%, 1495,342 grams remaining.
— ANOMALY BEHAVIOR DETECTED, SIR!!! Sensors... Are... NGC8 to... 10... Are... - Then, everyone would turn the one that was speaking, Severin included. His voice broke down, he started gasping.
— S-Se-sending the... D-Data, D-Doc...
Encore
For the thousands lights extinguished from existence
For the thousands lights extinguished from existence
For the first time, the Girl had felt the strange texture of the old man's palm on her own. Creased, sweating and cold. It held firmly unto Her's and, without any regard for Her well-being, it pushed. Severin bared his teeth as lines upon lines of symbols streamed on his computerized goggles. He was taking Her somewhere. They were getting away. Many scietists yelled orders at each other. Sound alarms went of and, soon, the voice returned.
— 'CAM 'DA <****> ON, SEVERIN!!! Hawlee <******> jayzus!! 'AYE CAN'T FIND 4439 EITHER!!! — It was him. His voice piercing every corner of these halls. But Severin just kept going, faster. The more lines that appeared on his sight, the more his expression would twist, the more he would cough. And the more he would speak rapidly to himself. — It's utterly impossible. The Anderson-Severin array couldn't find anything at the station. Nothing indicated this. There is no way. Is it Notspace? Was it Aelyn's doing? That idiot Erica?? Who could have possible done this? Is it just an error? Is 'Ssteea' truly safe with us?? Where the <****> is "safe"???
He was desperate. Then they finally reached that horrible place.
The
As it was expected, the dreaded Captain came right into their way. Severin immediately released her palm upon doing so. Now, there was no return. She did something terrible. Incredibly horrifying. And, now, her death was going to be much faster, will hurt more, and she would never be back again.
... But the man-in-white had ultimately ignored Her. His weapon was tightly sheathed on the contraption hanging on his waist. Instead, he started to yell at Severin... And such did it back.
— Tell 'my 'whatta <****> is 'goin on al- <******> -READY!!
— Working on it.
The same people from earlier, men and women clad in suits of armor, wearing white, elegant uniforms. Scientists, engineers, all started to flood the TIH focusing their eyes on the far end of the room, where a huge, black screen was stationed from one end to another of the hall. Severin and Wanheed, by now, didn't even care if she ran away or just stayed there. However, if she did, just by the time she would reach the doors out... A bright light came from behind her...
Thousands. Millions. Of varying glows of red, blue and orange. Some clumped together, others apart. With one region, the top-left corner, splattered with a void location, where none of those resided. Millions upon millions of stars had appeared right in front of The Mysterious Girl very eyes.
The Galaxy Wide now knew about it. Countless stars have disappeared from an blink of an eye. Where once was an unexplored region of the universe, now there was only a lifeless, lightless Void. It came out of nowhere. There was no warning, no signals, anything. They had just disappeared. Ceased to exist. Neither Captain A.P. Petrovalyc would suspect of it. Notspace had nothing to do with what just happened.
She did.
— ... They're...
— 'Thai 're <******> gone, Severin.
...
Ｒ ａ ｓ
The Perrygold
One ear perked, and an expression of slight confusion came onto his face. The innocent kind. The kind that couldn’t imagine he had been feeling down at all. How could he be feeling better today if he had been feeling fine yesterday? Nothing bad had happened yesterday. Yesterday hadn’t even happened at all. There were some snippets of course - but nothing bad happened yesterday. Nope.
He chalked it up to his friend doing that ’more-concerned-than-she-lets-on’ thing, smiled brightly and said ”Fine aaaand dandy~” which suited well enough for avoiding the things he couldn’t not want to think about because they’d never happened in the first place-
Eager to change the subject, he proceeded to lean in close to Nirix and jab her lightly in the side with an elbow a few times. ”I tooooold you he was inta’ you. Totally called it~” He said in a mischievous, almost juvenile tone, then switched to something that resembled well-intended advice. ”It’s veeery good news to get the contact info on the first date, y’know. Now if you need any recommendations for romantic restaurants, I-”
Apparently the brat wasn’t planning on allowing her to ‘live this down’. So it was lucky for her that the ex-PI showed up when he did to take all the attention off her.
His greeting to the stocky man transitioned rapidly as the cheerful inflection turned to greatly exaggerated concern. ”Oh hey Arnaldooowhat the heck happened to your leg!” He seemed devastated by this particular development - not the kind of devastation as yesterday, with hollow eyes and raw throats - but the kind that one might feel when someone got hurt, or some great injustice had played out.
With a complete lack of social conduct, Ketin stepped forward, leaning down and to the side to get a better look at the missing leg as if he were examining a flat tire before changing it - but also as if he really loved that flat tire and was bent on keeping it. ”It’s gone!” He exclaimed, stating the obvious.
He was suddenly quite serious then, looking the older man right in the eyes. ”We need to get you a prosthetic!” He declared, immediately cutting off any protest that he might offer up - ”You can’t hobble around like that, that’s crazy! Great Galaxy!” Combing through his hair once with fingers, he exhaled heavily and looked downward in thought. ”I’m pretty sure we can find someone on this station who does robo-legs. So, how ‘bout we go get some sandworm and then se if we can’t get a leg up on this situation.”
It was so bad that the steward who happened to be walking by them at the time stopped, made as if to speak, to chastise him for uttering such a Space awful pun - then shook his head and walked away. Kete didn’t notice - or pretended not to.
Spinning on a heel, he was off in the direction of the stairs - and the fried sandworm - but at a slow enough pace that the hobbling Arnaldo could keep up. He didn’t seem to mind the stroll - he didn’t seem to mind much of anything, today.
Upstairs, he ordered himself a plate and some kind of drink that was clearly alcoholic but loosely disguised as something soft. It was orange. There being four chairs at the table, he commandeered an additional one so that he could rock back on one and prop his feet up on the other. Then he proceeded to tell a long winded joke that didn’t make any sense yet was somehow actually funny. It segwayed into a story about attending a ”A psychedelic-postmodern-pseudo-neoclassical-death-metal concert with a whole bunch of these, like, biker guys.” and how it ended with everyone doing so many drugs that even he was weirded out.
Nobody noticed when the TV monitor mounted near the ceiling in the corner turned off spontaneously, and nobody bothered to turn it back on. He’d caught it just in time - these people could wait a little longer to learn about what might have been the largest-scale disaster in the history of the Galaxy. He would, of course, not think about it - and it probably wouldn’t really be all over the stations until tomorrow - and ‘tomorrow’ might as well have been months away.
Qetan Scout Ship
The only detail that gave him away was a shade or two lightening of his face. Otherwise, he managed to seem utterly unfazed by the ‘warning shot’. He was too focused, too wrapped up in his own hatred of this Qetan scumbag to think about anything else. It was such a short moment that they all stood there, staring each other down – but it felt like days. There was nothing in the galaxy – in the universe – other than himself, and the Qetan.
Except there was. And he knew it. Because E’tzu Tsuan was a highly trained soldier. He was aware of his ally. The two of them, finding themselves with a common enemy, were as one. He knew his comrades well enough to predict their actions and act accordingly on reflex alone.
Except that Rai was not one of the other soldiers he had spent so much time with. He couldn’t predict Rai. And he certainly didn’t predict that said ally would go leaping headlong into the battle.
Except that Rai hadn’t been the one to attack first. Had he been so consumed by the moment that he missed his opportunity to strike? It seemed so – and before he knew what was happening, he was watching doors close in his face and vaguely hearing something about ”Top button” or some such nonsense.
It wasn’t like him to get this way. For all his antics, E’tzu was nevertheless a professional. He understood the grim difference between life and death on the battlefield. He knew that to allow emotions to cloud judgment in times of crisis was deadly. He knew that not every mission could be completed – and not every life could be saved. He knew there was no time to mourn, no time to act brash – and yet here he was, for the first time in memory, losing control of himself to such a degree that he might have just let Rai be killed at the hands of the Qetan.
It was this realization that snapped him back to reality. Gritting his teeth, he forced all thoughts to cease save for the relevant ones. There was no time to take a deep breath. No time to make a single mistake. He had to think fast – faster than he had ever thought in his life – or he and Rai would be killed, and some doubtless ghastly fate would become of Rin.
The objective was to protect Rin. Rai shared that objective. Therefore, it only made sense to do as Rai had said. It seemed unlikely that the Nyran would send him somewhere irrelevant. It wasn’t as if anywhere on the little ship would be ’safe’, and it wasn’t as if his own safety was of any particular importance at the moment. The mission – he had to complete the mission-
He had stood there for too long. What had it been – seven, eight seconds? Reaction time too slow. Unacceptable. Fix it.
Reflexively, without even consciously realizing what he was doing until after he had done it, Tsuan mashed the topmost button – and almost at once found himself in a short hallway. The silence was foreboding – for he knew that somewhere in that silence, a second enemy no less deadly than the first lurked.
Hastily he spun around to look behind him – and if by some chance the buttons were still there, he would press the large one that Rai had, followed by the lowest button, and immediately move out of the way. Of course, it was also possible that there was nothing of any use behind him. What had that even been – some kind of teleporter? He vaguely remembered it looking like an elevator – but that whole moment was all but blacked out in time. It didn’t matter anyway. Buttons or not, he whirled back toward the door approached it, and cursed silently upon seeing the keypad inscribed with alien characters.
So, he would need a password then.
As if the chances of his guessing it weren’t already slim enough, he wouldn’t be able to spell it. The Literary Arts Bachelor’s didn’t cover languages from other ‘universes’.
His mind raced. Mash buttons? No – it might trigger a lockdown. Smash it? How lucky was he feeling today? Not enough. And there was the fact that he might have been hidden presently – but touching any button would give his location away in a heartbeat if someone was looking at the right status board. Maybe they were psychic-linked with their ships as they apparently were with each other?
This couldn’t be the end. He couldn’t just sit at this dead-end hallway and wait to be faced with someone who was clearly more powerful than himself, mere human that he was.
Mere human.
His mind raced. Rin had to be behind that door. He had to open it.
Mere human.
Except...He wasn’t a mere human any more. Not since the Skadi. Not since he had opted to be a test subject for the prototype thermodynamic manipulators. The research and development team’s venture to emulate Cathorine’s natural entropic phenomenon with machines. The same technology had been put into their adaptive weapons - perfectly stable as firearms. The next step up seemed obvious - a cybernetic implant that would allow the user to wield all the seemingly magical powers of the Ice Queen at their fingertips.
But the technology did not adapt well to organic tissue. It had taken months just to get it out of the Alpha stage - and into the realm of very tentative human testing. In his characteristic recklessness, Tsuan had thought it sounded cool and pestered everyone he needed to pester until they gave in. He wasn’t supposed to use it outside of a very carefully controlled testing environment. The dangers, he had been told, were exponential. Lose a finger, a hand, an arm, or just die.
He had been itching to try it out earlier, when it was an abstract thought. Now that he was actually contemplating it, the eggheads’ warning were starting to seem more serious.
But it didn’t matter. This was going to be his only shot. The risk was negligible at those stakes.
Two minutes had passed, but he might as well have been standing there debating - and steeling himself. Tsuan bent to one knee and went about the mental checklist required to activate it. A signal was sent from the implant when it was ready, and finally - his least favorite part - he fingered the tiny, subdermal toggle hidden in the crook of his wrist. Ugh, he could feel it move-
There was the icy-hot sensation as his body became aware of the subdermal bio-mesh threaded like spiderwebs through the muscles in his right forearm and hand. Pressing his right palm to the keypad and taking care that he did not depress any buttons in the process he got to work.
There were plenty of reasons why freezing a pinpad locking mechanism to irresponsibly negative temperatures could cause it to act strange - and Tsuan didn’t know any of them. But he had seen it work twice before - though she accomplished the feat with a mere flip of the finger, rather than the mighty effort Tsuan was just now realizing he was engaged in.
He was sweating. The icy-hot feeling centered around his hand shifted vaguely between the two. The skin was starting to boast an unhealthy blue tint. He covered his right hand with his left, not wanting to see the dour hue. It hadn’t taken long for the pad to become so frosted over that it no longer resembled an electronic device at all.
If the trick worked right - and it had to work! - Once it was cold enough, some weird technobabble would malfunction and the door would just click open, all readings, monitors and security measures oblivious to the change.
But it wasn’t working.
It wasn’t working!
His hand was on fire and it wasn’t working. The pad was thoroughly cold enough to inflict serious frostbite and it still wasn’t working.
His left hand was starting to burn too as excess energy, unable to be contained by the meager force shield, seeped through his molecular structure and it still wasn’t working.
He wasn’t sure that he could ever experience anything more painful and it still wasn’t working.
And then, a subtle Crrr sound as hairline fractures began to lace the pinpad, which was finally giving way. It wasn’t what he’d wanted, but his heart leaped nevertheless. Maybe if it was smashed to bits this way the cold would keep it from sending any signals, and the ship - and the Qetans - would be none the wiser to his tampering? It was the best he could hope for now, and he wished fervently that it would just hurry up and snap already!
It must have been reading his mind - for at that moment a more audible crackling could be heard. Vaguely through the numbness and agony he could feel his hand shift slightly.
And then, after the longest two minutes and forty three seconds of his life, it gave. There was a loud, totally unsubtle POP as if someone had smashed a hefty light bulb. The comparably inaudible tinkling sound of shattered ice as it blasted out like a grenade. Probably the sound had not been quite loud enough to hear - at least, not clearly. An audio monitor malfunction, perhaps.
And, to Tsuan’s exaltation, the door slid quietly open. Even through the horrendous pain of what was most definitely a severely frostbitten hand, he managed a little grin.
One ear perked, and an expression of slight confusion came onto his face. The innocent kind. The kind that couldn’t imagine he had been feeling down at all. How could he be feeling better today if he had been feeling fine yesterday? Nothing bad had happened yesterday. Yesterday hadn’t even happened at all. There were some snippets of course - but nothing bad happened yesterday. Nope.
He chalked it up to his friend doing that ’more-concerned-than-she-lets-on’ thing, smiled brightly and said ”Fine aaaand dandy~” which suited well enough for avoiding the things he couldn’t not want to think about because they’d never happened in the first place-
Eager to change the subject, he proceeded to lean in close to Nirix and jab her lightly in the side with an elbow a few times. ”I tooooold you he was inta’ you. Totally called it~” He said in a mischievous, almost juvenile tone, then switched to something that resembled well-intended advice. ”It’s veeery good news to get the contact info on the first date, y’know. Now if you need any recommendations for romantic restaurants, I-”
Apparently the brat wasn’t planning on allowing her to ‘live this down’. So it was lucky for her that the ex-PI showed up when he did to take all the attention off her.
His greeting to the stocky man transitioned rapidly as the cheerful inflection turned to greatly exaggerated concern. ”Oh hey Arnaldooowhat the heck happened to your leg!” He seemed devastated by this particular development - not the kind of devastation as yesterday, with hollow eyes and raw throats - but the kind that one might feel when someone got hurt, or some great injustice had played out.
With a complete lack of social conduct, Ketin stepped forward, leaning down and to the side to get a better look at the missing leg as if he were examining a flat tire before changing it - but also as if he really loved that flat tire and was bent on keeping it. ”It’s gone!” He exclaimed, stating the obvious.
He was suddenly quite serious then, looking the older man right in the eyes. ”We need to get you a prosthetic!” He declared, immediately cutting off any protest that he might offer up - ”You can’t hobble around like that, that’s crazy! Great Galaxy!” Combing through his hair once with fingers, he exhaled heavily and looked downward in thought. ”I’m pretty sure we can find someone on this station who does robo-legs. So, how ‘bout we go get some sandworm and then se if we can’t get a leg up on this situation.”
It was so bad that the steward who happened to be walking by them at the time stopped, made as if to speak, to chastise him for uttering such a Space awful pun - then shook his head and walked away. Kete didn’t notice - or pretended not to.
Spinning on a heel, he was off in the direction of the stairs - and the fried sandworm - but at a slow enough pace that the hobbling Arnaldo could keep up. He didn’t seem to mind the stroll - he didn’t seem to mind much of anything, today.
Upstairs, he ordered himself a plate and some kind of drink that was clearly alcoholic but loosely disguised as something soft. It was orange. There being four chairs at the table, he commandeered an additional one so that he could rock back on one and prop his feet up on the other. Then he proceeded to tell a long winded joke that didn’t make any sense yet was somehow actually funny. It segwayed into a story about attending a ”A psychedelic-postmodern-pseudo-neoclassical-death-metal concert with a whole bunch of these, like, biker guys.” and how it ended with everyone doing so many drugs that even he was weirded out.
Nobody noticed when the TV monitor mounted near the ceiling in the corner turned off spontaneously, and nobody bothered to turn it back on. He’d caught it just in time - these people could wait a little longer to learn about what might have been the largest-scale disaster in the history of the Galaxy. He would, of course, not think about it - and it probably wouldn’t really be all over the stations until tomorrow - and ‘tomorrow’ might as well have been months away.
Qetan Scout Ship
The only detail that gave him away was a shade or two lightening of his face. Otherwise, he managed to seem utterly unfazed by the ‘warning shot’. He was too focused, too wrapped up in his own hatred of this Qetan scumbag to think about anything else. It was such a short moment that they all stood there, staring each other down – but it felt like days. There was nothing in the galaxy – in the universe – other than himself, and the Qetan.
Except there was. And he knew it. Because E’tzu Tsuan was a highly trained soldier. He was aware of his ally. The two of them, finding themselves with a common enemy, were as one. He knew his comrades well enough to predict their actions and act accordingly on reflex alone.
Except that Rai was not one of the other soldiers he had spent so much time with. He couldn’t predict Rai. And he certainly didn’t predict that said ally would go leaping headlong into the battle.
Except that Rai hadn’t been the one to attack first. Had he been so consumed by the moment that he missed his opportunity to strike? It seemed so – and before he knew what was happening, he was watching doors close in his face and vaguely hearing something about ”Top button” or some such nonsense.
It wasn’t like him to get this way. For all his antics, E’tzu was nevertheless a professional. He understood the grim difference between life and death on the battlefield. He knew that to allow emotions to cloud judgment in times of crisis was deadly. He knew that not every mission could be completed – and not every life could be saved. He knew there was no time to mourn, no time to act brash – and yet here he was, for the first time in memory, losing control of himself to such a degree that he might have just let Rai be killed at the hands of the Qetan.
It was this realization that snapped him back to reality. Gritting his teeth, he forced all thoughts to cease save for the relevant ones. There was no time to take a deep breath. No time to make a single mistake. He had to think fast – faster than he had ever thought in his life – or he and Rai would be killed, and some doubtless ghastly fate would become of Rin.
The objective was to protect Rin. Rai shared that objective. Therefore, it only made sense to do as Rai had said. It seemed unlikely that the Nyran would send him somewhere irrelevant. It wasn’t as if anywhere on the little ship would be ’safe’, and it wasn’t as if his own safety was of any particular importance at the moment. The mission – he had to complete the mission-
He had stood there for too long. What had it been – seven, eight seconds? Reaction time too slow. Unacceptable. Fix it.
Reflexively, without even consciously realizing what he was doing until after he had done it, Tsuan mashed the topmost button – and almost at once found himself in a short hallway. The silence was foreboding – for he knew that somewhere in that silence, a second enemy no less deadly than the first lurked.
Hastily he spun around to look behind him – and if by some chance the buttons were still there, he would press the large one that Rai had, followed by the lowest button, and immediately move out of the way. Of course, it was also possible that there was nothing of any use behind him. What had that even been – some kind of teleporter? He vaguely remembered it looking like an elevator – but that whole moment was all but blacked out in time. It didn’t matter anyway. Buttons or not, he whirled back toward the door approached it, and cursed silently upon seeing the keypad inscribed with alien characters.
So, he would need a password then.
As if the chances of his guessing it weren’t already slim enough, he wouldn’t be able to spell it. The Literary Arts Bachelor’s didn’t cover languages from other ‘universes’.
His mind raced. Mash buttons? No – it might trigger a lockdown. Smash it? How lucky was he feeling today? Not enough. And there was the fact that he might have been hidden presently – but touching any button would give his location away in a heartbeat if someone was looking at the right status board. Maybe they were psychic-linked with their ships as they apparently were with each other?
This couldn’t be the end. He couldn’t just sit at this dead-end hallway and wait to be faced with someone who was clearly more powerful than himself, mere human that he was.
Mere human.
His mind raced. Rin had to be behind that door. He had to open it.
Mere human.
Except...He wasn’t a mere human any more. Not since the Skadi. Not since he had opted to be a test subject for the prototype thermodynamic manipulators. The research and development team’s venture to emulate Cathorine’s natural entropic phenomenon with machines. The same technology had been put into their adaptive weapons - perfectly stable as firearms. The next step up seemed obvious - a cybernetic implant that would allow the user to wield all the seemingly magical powers of the Ice Queen at their fingertips.
But the technology did not adapt well to organic tissue. It had taken months just to get it out of the Alpha stage - and into the realm of very tentative human testing. In his characteristic recklessness, Tsuan had thought it sounded cool and pestered everyone he needed to pester until they gave in. He wasn’t supposed to use it outside of a very carefully controlled testing environment. The dangers, he had been told, were exponential. Lose a finger, a hand, an arm, or just die.
He had been itching to try it out earlier, when it was an abstract thought. Now that he was actually contemplating it, the eggheads’ warning were starting to seem more serious.
But it didn’t matter. This was going to be his only shot. The risk was negligible at those stakes.
Two minutes had passed, but he might as well have been standing there debating - and steeling himself. Tsuan bent to one knee and went about the mental checklist required to activate it. A signal was sent from the implant when it was ready, and finally - his least favorite part - he fingered the tiny, subdermal toggle hidden in the crook of his wrist. Ugh, he could feel it move-
There was the icy-hot sensation as his body became aware of the subdermal bio-mesh threaded like spiderwebs through the muscles in his right forearm and hand. Pressing his right palm to the keypad and taking care that he did not depress any buttons in the process he got to work.
There were plenty of reasons why freezing a pinpad locking mechanism to irresponsibly negative temperatures could cause it to act strange - and Tsuan didn’t know any of them. But he had seen it work twice before - though she accomplished the feat with a mere flip of the finger, rather than the mighty effort Tsuan was just now realizing he was engaged in.
He was sweating. The icy-hot feeling centered around his hand shifted vaguely between the two. The skin was starting to boast an unhealthy blue tint. He covered his right hand with his left, not wanting to see the dour hue. It hadn’t taken long for the pad to become so frosted over that it no longer resembled an electronic device at all.
If the trick worked right - and it had to work! - Once it was cold enough, some weird technobabble would malfunction and the door would just click open, all readings, monitors and security measures oblivious to the change.
But it wasn’t working.
It wasn’t working!
His hand was on fire and it wasn’t working. The pad was thoroughly cold enough to inflict serious frostbite and it still wasn’t working.
His left hand was starting to burn too as excess energy, unable to be contained by the meager force shield, seeped through his molecular structure and it still wasn’t working.
He wasn’t sure that he could ever experience anything more painful and it still wasn’t working.
And then, a subtle Crrr sound as hairline fractures began to lace the pinpad, which was finally giving way. It wasn’t what he’d wanted, but his heart leaped nevertheless. Maybe if it was smashed to bits this way the cold would keep it from sending any signals, and the ship - and the Qetans - would be none the wiser to his tampering? It was the best he could hope for now, and he wished fervently that it would just hurry up and snap already!
It must have been reading his mind - for at that moment a more audible crackling could be heard. Vaguely through the numbness and agony he could feel his hand shift slightly.
And then, after the longest two minutes and forty three seconds of his life, it gave. There was a loud, totally unsubtle POP as if someone had smashed a hefty light bulb. The comparably inaudible tinkling sound of shattered ice as it blasted out like a grenade. Probably the sound had not been quite loud enough to hear - at least, not clearly. An audio monitor malfunction, perhaps.
And, to Tsuan’s exaltation, the door slid quietly open. Even through the horrendous pain of what was most definitely a severely frostbitten hand, he managed a little grin.
He shifted gingerly and made to stand, only to end up sitting limply against the wall and looking down at something that had caught his attention.
Half of Tsuan’s right hand had ceased to exist. Where thumb, index and middle fingers had been, there was only a mangled slab of blackened flesh that left only the outer half of the palm intact. The two remaining fingers looked like the burned branches of some ancient, gnarled tree, spasming slightly, but otherwise unresponsive. The very corner of the inner wrist bone was protruding slightly. It had cauterized itself in some ungodly duet of death-ice and atomic fire. Unnatural veiny tendrils crept up around his forearm, and gave the illusion that they were the only thing keeping the hand’s revolting remains attached at all.
Tsuan contemplated this development for a very long time. He stared at it uncomprehendingly, wondering absently why it didn’t hurt, and realizing disinterestedly that he had simply reached a new height of pain that was so greater in intensity than anything he had ever experienced that it warranted a new sensation that was somehow more abstract, but infinitely worse.
His pointer finger itched terribly. Maddeningly. But unfortunately his pointer finger no longer existed. In a moment of stupidity so profound that even he recognized it, he impulsively glanced around the hallway to see if maybe he could find the finger, and scratch it. There was, of course, nothing left.
Some distant voice in his head murmured something about having a job to do. It was very important. It made him want to stand - which he did with surprising ease. He wavered a little as he got reaccustomed to the long-forgotten art of standing, which he had not done since five minutes ago. His gait was stilted, but he managed. The ruined hand hung limply at hs side, a small white-hot sun of agony that followed him wherever he went and reeked of decaying flesh.
The room was dark, and had lots of things in it. Now his thumb itched too.
Once he realized consciously that he was still in a state of shock and that pure adrenaline was the only thing keeping him from collapsing in a heap, he became slightly more cognizant. He could not make the shock go away, but as long as he knew it was there, he could understand why everything seemed so dreamlike and why his head was swimming so badly.
He had to find Rin. Rin was in this room. He had to find Rin and get him away. If he could just accomplish that much, the hand business was no big deal. It was just a hand. He was left handed anyway. No big deal. He had a feeling that Rin might be on that glowing table. It seemed important. It was dark though. He thought he saw a figure laying on it, but couldn’t be quite sure.
Not entirely certain why he was doing it - maybe in some past life he’d had a hunch or something - he unclipped the stunner from his belt and held it at the ready. By the time he reached the glowing table and looked down at whatever was, or wasn’t on the surface, the glazed look was gone from his eyes. So, he was self-aware, at least. That was something.
Tsuan contemplated this development for a very long time. He stared at it uncomprehendingly, wondering absently why it didn’t hurt, and realizing disinterestedly that he had simply reached a new height of pain that was so greater in intensity than anything he had ever experienced that it warranted a new sensation that was somehow more abstract, but infinitely worse.
His pointer finger itched terribly. Maddeningly. But unfortunately his pointer finger no longer existed. In a moment of stupidity so profound that even he recognized it, he impulsively glanced around the hallway to see if maybe he could find the finger, and scratch it. There was, of course, nothing left.
Some distant voice in his head murmured something about having a job to do. It was very important. It made him want to stand - which he did with surprising ease. He wavered a little as he got reaccustomed to the long-forgotten art of standing, which he had not done since five minutes ago. His gait was stilted, but he managed. The ruined hand hung limply at hs side, a small white-hot sun of agony that followed him wherever he went and reeked of decaying flesh.
The room was dark, and had lots of things in it. Now his thumb itched too.
Once he realized consciously that he was still in a state of shock and that pure adrenaline was the only thing keeping him from collapsing in a heap, he became slightly more cognizant. He could not make the shock go away, but as long as he knew it was there, he could understand why everything seemed so dreamlike and why his head was swimming so badly.
He had to find Rin. Rin was in this room. He had to find Rin and get him away. If he could just accomplish that much, the hand business was no big deal. It was just a hand. He was left handed anyway. No big deal. He had a feeling that Rin might be on that glowing table. It seemed important. It was dark though. He thought he saw a figure laying on it, but couldn’t be quite sure.
Not entirely certain why he was doing it - maybe in some past life he’d had a hunch or something - he unclipped the stunner from his belt and held it at the ready. By the time he reached the glowing table and looked down at whatever was, or wasn’t on the surface, the glazed look was gone from his eyes. So, he was self-aware, at least. That was something.
Reqti didn’t want to kill them.
He stabbed forward, turning with the blocking swipe to kick at their exposed side. They stumbled, winded, but aware enough to duck at the swing to their head, doing an admirable job of ignoring the pain.
"Give up already." He winced inwardly, cursing his slip of tongue. He just barely caught the weary tremble in his own voice.
They stood their ground, exchanging a rapid flurry of attacks that left them both pushed to opposite sides, almost to the opposing walls. "Mission," they gritted out, wild eyes watching for any sudden movements.
"Forget about it!" Ah, he didn't mean to sound so- "The Nyran is-"
"YOU are my mission!"
He just barely avoided stabbing the stupid, foolish, exasperating-
"What." It was not a question. It was a demand to explain the hell out of that- that-
"... Both of you..." they murmured, taking a step forward. He raised his hand in the universal sign for STOP, hold the phone for one DAMN moment-
"No. Explain." He pointed his weapon at- at- with a pale face (not that it could be seen. Only the faint tremble in his voice betrayed him.) "Your mission is to stop us, at any cost, even death. That is what you meant, Isn't it?" Because no, he couldn't- wouldn't- consider the other meaning, because- because-
No, it wasn't. The aethermancer isn't that stupid, no matter what Tahil said.
"That's THEIR mission, NOT mine!"
No.
"I remember you." They took a step forward. He didn't stop them. "We were so young," they sighed.
Another step. He couldn't move.
"Please, just- come home," they said, so low it was almost a whisper. They lifted a hand... but stopped, hovering over dark cloth. He was- too tense. The air was-
Reqti didn’t sign up for this.
Rin was there, in a deep sleep, so still it was as if he were a part of the very platform he was laid out on. Only his slow, shallow breathing betrayed this presumption. His dagger laid a ways away on a table, next to a tiny black sphere, engraved with symbols.
There seemed to be nothing amiss.
He stabbed forward, turning with the blocking swipe to kick at their exposed side. They stumbled, winded, but aware enough to duck at the swing to their head, doing an admirable job of ignoring the pain.
"Give up already." He winced inwardly, cursing his slip of tongue. He just barely caught the weary tremble in his own voice.
They stood their ground, exchanging a rapid flurry of attacks that left them both pushed to opposite sides, almost to the opposing walls. "Mission," they gritted out, wild eyes watching for any sudden movements.
"Forget about it!" Ah, he didn't mean to sound so- "The Nyran is-"
"YOU are my mission!"
He just barely avoided stabbing the stupid, foolish, exasperating-
"What." It was not a question. It was a demand to explain the hell out of that- that-
"... Both of you..." they murmured, taking a step forward. He raised his hand in the universal sign for STOP, hold the phone for one DAMN moment-
"No. Explain." He pointed his weapon at- at- with a pale face (not that it could be seen. Only the faint tremble in his voice betrayed him.) "Your mission is to stop us, at any cost, even death. That is what you meant, Isn't it?" Because no, he couldn't- wouldn't- consider the other meaning, because- because-
No, it wasn't. The aethermancer isn't that stupid, no matter what Tahil said.
"That's THEIR mission, NOT mine!"
No.
"I remember you." They took a step forward. He didn't stop them. "We were so young," they sighed.
He-
"Reqti."
He... was still somewhat stupified by what was happening right now. And somewhat upset at himself for giving away his position so easily.
"Hey," the other child said suddenly, making him barely hold back a surprised flinch. "I'm bored, let's go play!"
... He blames the sheer unpredictability of the situation AND the child (enemy?), because by the time he'd come back to himself enough to stand his ground and resist the Nyran's pull he was well out of the target path.
"Are you out of your "mind?!" he hissed, gesturing with the hand not clasped with the child. "I'm your enemy. I threatened you! Heck, I'm here to steal something for crying out loud!"
"Yes yes alright, do that later," the crazy Nyran said, tugging at his wrist. "Do that later. There's a festival I wanna go to, and I don't wanna be alone."
Reqti stared in dead silence. He then tilted his head up to the sky, murmuring either a curse or a prayer- he didn't even know anymore- and resigned himself to keeping an eye on this douche until he was set free to to his duty.
Tahil, for the first time in his life, had tears in her eyes as she clung to him for dear life.
He blinked, shocked for what seemed like to thousandth time today.
Screw Rai- the Ny- that boy. Honestly, distracting him...
"We thought you dead," she muttered into his tunic. She sniffed, pushing herself at arms length. "The plans were- outdated. They set new traps. If you'd gone, you-" she coughed, throat thick with sobs that made his gut heavy with guilt.
She'd been mourning, while he was just fine with Ra- that N- the child. He distrac- Oh.
She drew herself up to her full height (she was a good height, at the ripe age of 14). "Where were you!"
He stared at the ground- then, pursing his lips in determination, looked up. "I was saved by a Nyran," he replied.
"Reqti."
He... was still somewhat stupified by what was happening right now. And somewhat upset at himself for giving away his position so easily.
"Hey," the other child said suddenly, making him barely hold back a surprised flinch. "I'm bored, let's go play!"
... He blames the sheer unpredictability of the situation AND the child (enemy?), because by the time he'd come back to himself enough to stand his ground and resist the Nyran's pull he was well out of the target path.
"Are you out of your "mind?!" he hissed, gesturing with the hand not clasped with the child. "I'm your enemy. I threatened you! Heck, I'm here to steal something for crying out loud!"
"Yes yes alright, do that later," the crazy Nyran said, tugging at his wrist. "Do that later. There's a festival I wanna go to, and I don't wanna be alone."
Reqti stared in dead silence. He then tilted his head up to the sky, murmuring either a curse or a prayer- he didn't even know anymore- and resigned himself to keeping an eye on this douche until he was set free to to his duty.
Tahil, for the first time in his life, had tears in her eyes as she clung to him for dear life.
He blinked, shocked for what seemed like to thousandth time today.
Screw Rai- the Ny- that boy. Honestly, distracting him...
"We thought you dead," she muttered into his tunic. She sniffed, pushing herself at arms length. "The plans were- outdated. They set new traps. If you'd gone, you-" she coughed, throat thick with sobs that made his gut heavy with guilt.
She'd been mourning, while he was just fine with Ra- that N- the child. He distrac- Oh.
Oh.
"You like snatching shiny stuff?"
"No, just a mission."
"What's the most evil plan you can get away with?"
"Stealing sacred scrolls."
"Hey, so what if not everything goes to plan?"
"Improvisation."
"... You might die."
"Part of the job."
"We're too young to die. Let's start living from now on!"
"... You're weird. For a Nyran."
"And you're nice... for a Qetan."
"Don't get any ideas."
"You like snatching shiny stuff?"
"No, just a mission."
"What's the most evil plan you can get away with?"
"Stealing sacred scrolls."
"Hey, so what if not everything goes to plan?"
"Improvisation."
"... You might die."
"Part of the job."
"We're too young to die. Let's start living from now on!"
"... You're weird. For a Nyran."
"And you're nice... for a Qetan."
"Don't get any ideas."
She drew herself up to her full height (she was a good height, at the ripe age of 14). "Where were you!"
He stared at the ground- then, pursing his lips in determination, looked up. "I was saved by a Nyran," he replied.
Another step. He couldn't move.
"Please, just- come home," they said, so low it was almost a whisper. They lifted a hand... but stopped, hovering over dark cloth. He was- too tense. The air was-
Reqti didn’t sign up for this.
Rin was there, in a deep sleep, so still it was as if he were a part of the very platform he was laid out on. Only his slow, shallow breathing betrayed this presumption. His dagger laid a ways away on a table, next to a tiny black sphere, engraved with symbols.
There seemed to be nothing amiss.
…There was something moving in the corner.
If one were to draw nearer to the odd movement, it would become apparent that the motion was coming from a tail- and not just any tail, a bird’s tail- tail feathers that were at least four feet long. The feathers were brilliantly hued, shades of yellow and gold and bright crimson with dashes of sunset orange- it was a magnificent bird, indeed. The wings, too, seemed large, that it looked as though they were able to easily carry its weight in prey; Its talons, iron dark and wickedly sharp. The sleek body supported a short, sturdy neck and a bold head; its head crest was as strikingly plumed as its tail feathers, both carrying elaborate patterns not unlike the Earthen peacock.
Its steely black beak and gold, unwavering gaze turned towards the man who came in- the Man who was Not Nyran, or Qetan, the Man who came with Her- the Man who sacrificed his hand for a friend.
… Well, crap, Shen said.
Except of course it sounded more like a lilting chitter.
How the heck was they supposed to communicate with this person?
The space beside the caged Phyx shifted, and they stilled as the muffled hiss trailed off into a more subdued airy sound. It was a good thing their current warden- screw this Raakis, and her camouflage- was dead asleep, or they’d both be- well. Dead.
The only good thing about this was that they’d agitated Laith enough for her to blurt out the passcode. Trust her to be as wildly temperamental as her familiar. It really was a pure stroke of luck that they’d made her angry enough to be overconfident with the password.
However… they could not convey this to the man.
They peeked at the mass of blackened flesh and inwardly cringed. They’d better find a way soon, too, or the Man with no Hand wouldn’t have anything else left of his entire limb.
They sighed, lightly ruffling their feathers. Trust them to always have to come up with the actual plan. Honestly.
They didn’t sign up for this…
If one were to draw nearer to the odd movement, it would become apparent that the motion was coming from a tail- and not just any tail, a bird’s tail- tail feathers that were at least four feet long. The feathers were brilliantly hued, shades of yellow and gold and bright crimson with dashes of sunset orange- it was a magnificent bird, indeed. The wings, too, seemed large, that it looked as though they were able to easily carry its weight in prey; Its talons, iron dark and wickedly sharp. The sleek body supported a short, sturdy neck and a bold head; its head crest was as strikingly plumed as its tail feathers, both carrying elaborate patterns not unlike the Earthen peacock.
Its steely black beak and gold, unwavering gaze turned towards the man who came in- the Man who was Not Nyran, or Qetan, the Man who came with Her- the Man who sacrificed his hand for a friend.
… Well, crap, Shen said.
Except of course it sounded more like a lilting chitter.
How the heck was they supposed to communicate with this person?
The space beside the caged Phyx shifted, and they stilled as the muffled hiss trailed off into a more subdued airy sound. It was a good thing their current warden- screw this Raakis, and her camouflage- was dead asleep, or they’d both be- well. Dead.
The only good thing about this was that they’d agitated Laith enough for her to blurt out the passcode. Trust her to be as wildly temperamental as her familiar. It really was a pure stroke of luck that they’d made her angry enough to be overconfident with the password.
However… they could not convey this to the man.
They peeked at the mass of blackened flesh and inwardly cringed. They’d better find a way soon, too, or the Man with no Hand wouldn’t have anything else left of his entire limb.
They sighed, lightly ruffling their feathers. Trust them to always have to come up with the actual plan. Honestly.
They didn’t sign up for this…
The Kingsbane
She was beginning to feel…contented. Maybe even happy.
This, time and time again, had been proven to be a big mistake, as it only set her up for disappointment. It provided an opportunity to be brutally reminded of what she was - and, more importantly - more devastatingly - what she was not.
It lulled her into the false sense that maybe she deserved to be treated as a person - when in reality, she did not. She was so much less than a person. It was not worth wasting time, let alone kindness upon her. Yet stupid as she was, the false promise of it ever lingered in the back of her mind and taunted her, springing its ugly head whenever the chance arose.
Naturally a little part of her was all too aware of this. It screamed at her to stay alert, stay wary - don’t be tricked into contentment at any cost!
But the promise of that elusive interaction, that coveted feeling of humanity was too much. It was to be expected that so pitiful creature would fall into the same traps again and again. It was why they could be trusted, and in the same breath why they could be disregarded.
First, there was the ‘chair’. It glided toward her on what she first assumed to be the nature of thin air, only to discover that the mode was primitive wheels. She was tempted to playfully push the chair back at him, just to see what would happen.
Usually, that was just how she was. She loved to see what would happen - to poke things, prod things, agitate things - just to see the play of cause and effect.
But she had seen first hand, with inconceivable brutality what happened when she agitated things here, in the New Place. She had seen what became of running her mouth and screwing around - here, where she was unimportant. Here, where she served no integral purpose. Here, where nobody had any reason at all to give her so much as a passing glance. She had gotten away with causing trouble before - before - in the memories that were vague and indistinct, that were only barely present at all, more like a forgotten dream than any past reality. She had been a necessary cog in the machine. They could reprimand her - punish her - but little more.
But here? Not so. Here she was as disposable as the Birds had always wished she was. Here, causing trouble, being curious - poking things - was unacceptable.
And so, though she was tempted to push the chair back - she didn’t.
She just looked at it from where she sat cross-legged beneath the desk, blinked once or twice. Looked from it, to the man, back to it.
Hesitantly, she stood, gestured vaguely toward the chair, glancing around and looking yet again back to him for confirmation - for permission.
It was obviously something to be sat upon. Everyone else was doing it. But that was where the trouble was - they were doing it - and she could not be certain if she was allowed to do anything that they were.
Interestingly, a minor detail about her person would become apparent once she was standing at her full, unimpressive height. It might have been a trick of the eye, but there appeared to be a very slightly visible line running diagonally down the white T shirt, from the left shoulder to halfway down her right midsection - exactly where the cutlass had bisected her not long before.
But he seemed very much to want her to sit - so she sat - pulling her legs up to again sit cross-legged on the chair, hands in lap.
Was it a test? It seemed cruel if that was the case, and somehow she felt that this man was not cruel. It wasn’t a test, apparently.
She fumbled when the ‘notebook’ and ‘pen’ were carelessly shoved into her hands. She almost dropped them as if they were very hot, but didn’t. Again, she glanced around to the others, and got a better idea of the status of these things. Not very important. Commonplace. He was watching her all the while, but smiling widely and reassuringly.
With a surprising dexterity, she played the pen in one hand, looked it over closely, rolled it between thumb and forefinger, tapped at the button on top to find that it clicked and moved a retractable tip at the opposite end. Said tip was coated in some kind of inky black substance, which she learned by also tapping a finger on that end, and finding a pinprick of black on her fingertip. With a note of distaste, she rubbed fingers together briefly and the pinprick smudge disappeared completely.
Her peremptory examination of the ‘notebook’ was quicker, as there was less to it. She thumbed through the pages, confirmed that they were all quite the same, and conveniently stacked so that when one was finished with one, they could remove it and the next would be right there. Handy.
At last, she decided to try it out. She tried out a number of ways of holding the pen before settling on the ‘thumb-and-forefinger’ method that the others were using. Clearly her hands were unfamiliar with the tool, but adapted well.
Always glancing between the paper and the man, she carefully dragged the black-coated tip of the thing in a short, concise line, and so the paper was marked with a short, concise black line.
Then, she drew a squggle in the vague shape of an S or Z. Then she rapidly scribbled back and forth in minute motions to produce a sort of cone shape. Then four lines in a row. Then another squiggle.
And when she felt that she had a good idea of how the whole thing worked, she bit her lip lightly - thoughtfully. Something had occurred to her.
Perhaps this would be a good means of communication?
So after one more hesitant, reaffirming look toward the man, she started in earnest - marking the page carefully, but at a reasonable pace.
First, lot of straight, vertical lines close together, with some that extended much higher. Then connecting them with mostly horizontal, some diagonal lines. It began to look like very distant, clustered skyscrapers.
Then a long, curving line below them all, as if they sat in a wide bowl. It was abruptly very clear what she had produced.
But curiously, she was not done. The structure she had loosely recreated was supposed to be surrounded by endless dunes - but she instead drew still more lines, all shorter, more spaced apart, surrounding the city-in-a-bowl. The lines stretched across the page until they created a vague horizon.
Then it was a series of wide, curving arcs that might have been spiders with many extra limbs - and gently sloping vertical lines that made them out to be something akin to palm trees. Then a longer, bumpy line, and another. As she went along, she seemed to become more engrossed with the task - more passionate - and some distant, unfathomable emotion had flickered over her face as she did so.
But then, one might have expected a strange reaction that was difficult to place - for when the image was finished and she looked again up at the old man, it was a picture of a very familiar place indeed - in a very unfamiliar landscape. Far from professional, but admirable nonetheless.
She searched him for approval. Bit her lip again. Then endeavored to add one more detail to the picture - and this one made less sense than the rest.
Carefully, she went about drawing a blocky shape in the sky above the towers. When it was finished, she began shading it in so that it was stark, solid black against the white page - save for the shape forming in relief that might have been a football.
This was the important part. This was the part that she doubted whether or not she should add. Was this a question she really wanted to ask? Was the answer really one she wanted to hear? But she already had her suspicions - her curiosity was too great and needed to be sated…
And besides - if the answer was ’yes’ then she would need to be very, very careful…
But before she could finish that last, infinitely vital part of the picture, something changed. She had been so focused on that part, so focused on deciding and worrying whether or not it was the right thing to do - that she hadn’t noticed the change in the old man’s expression until it was too late - until he heard the change in his voice.
When she looked up, her eyes went wide, and hand froze with pen still on paper. Her body tensed visibly, and she gaped fearfully up at him.
Others began panicking too. She glanced around at them nervously, always looking back to the old man in rapidly mounting terror.
What had she done now!
Stupid! Why had she ever come out from under that table in the first place!
The chaos paused briefly - the eye of the storm - as everyone went silent and turned to one man, who spoke stuttered words as though he had witnessed something very frightening.
Everyone seemed frightened - and in a way, that was a relief to her - because it was very unlikely that they would be afraid of her.
Still, the infinite possibilities raced through her head. All the different things she might have done differently. All the reasons why she might still be in trouble. She shook very slightly, the tension of her body as it remained otherwise stationary.
A distant part of her hoped in vain that the old man might do that thing again, where he put his hand on her shoulder. That had been the most comforting thing anyone had ever done. It had made her feel for once that she had done something right.
But instead - quite to the contrary - she found herself being roughly grabbed by the hand and yanked out of the chair. A dark, scarring line was left on the page as she dropped the pen, and stumbled rather violently out of the chair with an audible, frightened yelp.
She even actively resisted him this time, making briefly as if to stand her ground and tug her hand away - but she was too frightened to put up any more than a perfunctory fight and found herself stumbling along obediently behind him as he muttered in what could only have been a cold fury.
For the first time since before she had been sent into UnBeing, she spoke. The words were tiny, almost inaudible, utterly meek and terrified. More akin to a helpless, panicked, despairing and utterly confused whimper than anything - but nevertheless another rare glimpse at her native language - even if everyone was much too busy to hear it.
"A-ae'a s'steaa! Y'lrü had i lai à'ty'?!” She pleaded, begged.
Even she didn’t realize she’d spoken until afterwards - and she regretted it - but was glad that it had gone at least visibly unnoticed.
What had she done now!?
Even she had to admit that these were some pretty mixed signals…
Though she also had to admit that it did not seem entirely certain that she was the source of it all. So than, what?
Her panic rose still when she saw the dreaded doors and doubled when she found herself again faced with the man in white! Just because she was pretty certain that he didn’t hold the real power around here didn’t mean she was any less terrified of him. He was a Bird - he thought he was in control because he looked like he was - but in reality it was someone else who held the power.
But he had all the cruelty of the Birds. The Red Birds.
And now she was being dragged right back to him!
She yanked her hand forcibly away from the old man at the same moment he released her, which caused her to stumble back a few steps. And she cowered there, raising arms in vain defence, whimpering and closing eyes tightly to keep from witnessing her next UnBeing.
But…
The blow never came.
She stood like that for a long moment - but the blow never came.
Eventually she opened one eye and peered through her arms. The man in white - the White Bird - was occupied. So then, she realized, she had been right. The source of everyone’s panic had not been her.
The relief poured over her in waves. The trembling continued, but her shoulders slumped as the weight of impending doom slid off them.
But the anxiety of the others was contagious. Everyone was moving around, yelling, talking loudly, exchanging words and information. Slightly dazed from it all, she stepped back a few paces, looked around, found a chair toward the back of the room, and curled up in it with legs crossed and hands in lap. She was out of the way. Back here, she couldn’t get into any trouble - couldn’t get in anyone’s way - couldn’t trip someone and make them hate her, couldn’t annoy people who were doing important things.
Usually, her curiosity would have overtaken her. Usually she would have been right up with the rest of them whether they liked it or not.
But usually, they couldn’t have done anything about it.
The curiosity - the desire to learn - and even the mischievous, playful nature were not completely gone from her - but the recent events had dampened them. She was meek now - timid - anxious - as to be expected. She was cautious and wary.
So for now, she endeavored to stay out of the way, sitting perched on the chair in the back of the room, and just looking about with apprehensive, but sharply curious white-ringed eyes.
Everyone else was frightened, and so she too was gradually adopting their fear. She was not immune to that. The fact that she knew nothing of what was going on only made it worse.
Then, at last, a development occurred. A great swath of the front wall shifted to display a myriad of specks of color - billions of specks, in all different sizes, all different shades. A vague swirling pattern in their stillness implied movement where there was none. Her eyes widened marginally. It was beautiful.
But she had not the faintest idea what they actually were, or what they meant.
The idea that they might have been suns had simply not occurred to her - for she had never seen any except one. Sure, if she thought about it, a great many suns seen from very far away would obviously mean a great many specks - but the idea that there could have been a great many suns in the first place was so alien that it simply did not come to mind.
All she saw was a very beautiful array of specks on a screen, with one area blotted out. Everyone was very upset about it - and she hadn’t the faintest idea why. And, as curious as she was to know what everyone else was freaking out over - she said nothing. She just sat in the chair in the back of the room, cross-legged with arms resting in her lap, and watched with attentive uncertainty. And she would do so until otherwise addressed.
The Stella Viventium
Aelyn-Paeryc Petrovalyc stared at the fuchsia-haired “Dimensional Lord” for a long moment, awaiting this supposedly vital information that he claimed to have. Valheimer was silent, and he was absently beginning to wonder if perhaps she had lost her mind completely - but it was of no importance at this time. She had refused to be of any help anyway, so what did she matter?
Before Caru could speak, however, his dead, blank expression changed minutely - eyebrows raised very slightly. He held up a finger in the universal ’wait’ gesture, then put a finger habitually to his ear and spoke aloud. ”Repeat that, please.” He said flatly.
Virtually nobody spoke aloud via BrainPal™. The Captain’s habit of doing so was a tradition so ancient that it was all but forgotten - from the days of earpieces. The finger-to-the-ear gesture was the same - nobody did that. It was as if he were a very old man sticking to the mannerisms of his youth. It was frankly outdated - purely archaic. But then, so were Dorin Harkahn’s glasses.
The Captain frowned slightly, brows still raised. ”Gone?” He said. Then, ”Notspace? No?” It seemed mildly interesting. Somewhat of a surprise. Something unusual and intriguing. He frowned thoughtfully. ”...Okay then. I...guess I’ll...look into it?” Indeed, he didn’t know what to do with the information. If it wasn’t Notspace, and it wasn’t related to Earth - then he didn’t particularly care.
He had already learned some trivia about a supposed collapse of the fabric of spacetime happening over some great length, and that had not particularly vexed him. Robots from another timestream had poked into his own - that was unusual - but it did not particularly affect him, nor his search for Earth of Sol.
But it still seemed like an important event - so naturally he was going to have to look into this - at least for a moment.
Harkahn, meanwhile, had received all the same information, and was staring at the surface of the table as if it were the most horrifying and grotesque thing he had ever seen.
”Uh...Okay then. Thanks. Harkahn and I will be in the R.C. soon.”
He dropped his finger from ear, then exchanged a ’well @#$%’ look with Alexia - then turned back to Caru.
”Alright. Tell me what you came to tell me, please.”
The Koolest Assault U Know
”You really are a fraud, aren’t you?” Ty said profoundly, with a sad smile and eyes that were as pitying as they were utterly revolted. Almost before he could get the words out, an explosive ”Are you FU-” screamed over the intercom, with Ty cutting it off mid-curse by flipping a switch absentmindedly.
”Everything about you. You never cared about Rin at all. You could pretend you did as long as you were taking advantage of him. But the moment it put you in any trouble you dropped him like an old hat.” He shook his head despondently. ”We’ll be sure to tell him how you abandoned him.” He spoke as the Cat was climbing into the tank, kept speaking for he knew well that such primitive machines were full of openings and gaps that allowed sight from within, and that he could be heard.
The El Dorado and Koolest were connected via the cargo bay doors, which opened to allow transfer of the tank and its occupant. Over the roar if it’s ancient combustion engines, Ty had to shout to be heard - but heard he would be. ”And Laurent! If we ever see you again, we’ll shoot on sight!”
Sands, who had as of yet said nothing, merely stood beside Jet, arms crossed, head shaking slowly. ”Sure as heck glad to have one good person joining us.” He muttered, obviously referring to Jet himself. ”And I’ll be just as happy never to see that sack of @#$% again.”
When the doors were again sealed and the junker running away with proverbial tail between legs, it appeared that zero-hour had come. It seemed Dallen would have to fend for herself in the unlikely event of a counter-boarding, but there was nothing to be done - a full boarding party was going to be required for this stupidly risky mission to go anything other than very, very badly.
The three of them crammed into the tiny converted boarding-vessel - made to feel all the more like sardines for Jackson’s overwhelming bulk but all the more comforted for it.
Once packed in tight and sealed, the dimly lit space seemed claustrophobic and made only more so by the sudden jerking back as the pod was mounted onto the launching rails. In yachts like this one, often the greatest danger was critical reactor failure leading to meltdown - so the escape pods were usually designed like bulky cannons - firing the pod and occupants with incredible velocity to get them as far as possible from the potential detonation. The sound of the hatch closing them into the barrel of that hefty rail-cannon was heard only faintly through the hastily reinforced pod’s armor. After that, it would be up to the pilot. In normal circumstances, the pod’s occupant could launch it with the press of a button - but a maneuver this foolish required a level of finesse that only the pilot could acquire…
The instant that his eye caught the hint of movement from just beyond the range of hazy vision, E’tzu Tsuan knew he was dead. He shouldn’t have just walked to the obvious place like that - should have carefully scanned the room and flush out potential ambushers. The flaring star of pain did not seem an admirable enough excuse for his own oversight - though he would be forced to admit that the lack of caution had been inevitable given his present desperation.
Nevertheless, there was more adrenaline than shock in him now, and his immediate instinct was to whirl around and draw his pistol in one swift and elegant gesture - made considerably less swift and elegant by his overall pitiful condition. He might have even gotten a shot off, if there had been anyone to shoot. But when no target became immediately apparent, he grew all the wearier and stepped closer after a moment’s foggy deliberation. The movement of the stealthy hunter was worked into his bones, and the soles of his quality combat boots made no sound as he crept one step, two steps, three steps closer. If not for the shadows encroaching upon his vision from all sides, he might have comprehended what he was seeing earlier - but it was not until he was within several feet before he understood.
A bird.
Tsuan accepted this as completely normal, as did he accept that the way it was looking at him was not indicative of a mere animal - not that he could prove it.
Then came that faint sound, and the indistinct, vague shift in the fabric of reality that either meant pain-induced hallucination or some cloaked enemy.
Still brandishing the pistol, he stared at the space where something invisible may have been slumbering. Then he looked back to the bird, met it’s gaze with as meaningful a look as he could. Then he looked back to the indistinct shape, raised the gun, aimed it at the shape, and glanced once more to the bird.
Having no serious, solid reason to believe that this bird was anything more than a simple animal other than a vague, unjustified hunch, this was an abhorrently stupid thing to be doing. Nobody in their right mind could conceive of asking a bird for permission to shoot something...and then still more expecting it to reply with a coherent answer. But Tsuan was rarely in his right mind to begin with, especially now when everything was hazy and shadows encroached on his mind as darkly as his eyes. Plus, he was dealing with aliens - true aliens - not mere offworlders, nor some non-carbon based lifeform from a different system. Aliens.
And...Hadn’t Rai been conversing psychically with someone? Had he mentioned a name? A ’familiar’? It wasn’t as if he had any frame of reference to know just what the wod implied - but if nothing else, he had gut instinct. So he waited for a brief moment and searched the caged bird for a sign - anything that might say ’no’.
If some sign to the contrary was given, he would not shoot, and instead reach for the cage’s unlocking mechanism. If there was no sign - for he assumed that it would be much easier for a creature with no humanoid aspects to indicate the negative than the positive - he would fire, at would amounted to almost point-blank, delivering what amounted to a hollowpoint slug of supercooled death that would surely obliterate whatever unfortunate creature was so stricken.
But he had only that one last moment to make an intelligent decision - for the very moment that he unlatched the cage or fired the gun, the Qetan Scout Ship would buck beneath him as the great, hollow crashing of some sizable projectile penetrated the hull with devastating force.
The yacht’s engines screamed as Dallen Armston was pressed into her seat with a force that dwarfed the one they had rode on the way over. The utter stupidity of the maneuver - the sheer brilliant luck that would be required to pull it off - both were pressed out of her mind to focus on the impossible task at hand - to build up enough momentum to fire a modified escape pod through the hull of an armored scout ship and hope the occupants didn’t get smashed to pulp in the process. If the luck persisted and her natural talent proved great enough, the drive-plume of the yacht would help cook the heat-proofed outer shell of the pod to further assist in a clean entry wound.
The pod was designed to crash-land on a planet with full atmosphere at excessive speeds - with the added armor and other modifications they had a chance - albeit a slim one.
The moment arrived. Sweating madly Dallen slammed the controls with fervor as every reasonable synapse in her brain pleaded her to the contrary. The gravity shifted furiously as the yacht arced around and the engines roared as they were forced to compensate the momentum. Slamming a hand down with all her might against the shifting pull the thump of the escape pod cannon firing was barely audible.
In the pod itself gravity shifted similarly - pressing the jam-packed soldiers into one wall, then the other. Then the hand of a giant descended on their chests in an instant that would have snapped their necks if not for the built-in supports. THey wr a bullet now, an object being cooked by the engine that had fired it hurdling toward an enemy at intolerable velocity. What little Sands could do to control it he did, seeing to it that their momentum was guided toward the proper target.
Then in an instant, the superheated cannonball crashed through the hull of the enemy vessel and lated to a stop suddenly within the belly of the beast. The hyper-cushioning gel deflated from overuse and something sparked and fizzled, but already the door was being ejected - the hot metal panel utterly mutilating anyone who might have been on the opposite side as it was flung across the room - and the soldiers within unpacked themselves with utmost haste to get a bearing on their surroundings.
Chatter was minimal, with the facemask respirators acting as short-range transmitters to attached earpieces.
Nothing short of death would halt their advance. They would be relentless, a killing force of nature - an entity of three which would bring slaughter to any who dared stand in their path. Jackson would tear doors off hinges, Sands and T’yzfir would mow down countless troops - it did not matter how many soldiers this enemy boat held. They would storm each new room with force and coordinated precision. They would storm by fire and might and take back what was theirs - or they would die trying.
But...It was as the song said.
She was beginning to feel…contented. Maybe even happy.
This, time and time again, had been proven to be a big mistake, as it only set her up for disappointment. It provided an opportunity to be brutally reminded of what she was - and, more importantly - more devastatingly - what she was not.
It lulled her into the false sense that maybe she deserved to be treated as a person - when in reality, she did not. She was so much less than a person. It was not worth wasting time, let alone kindness upon her. Yet stupid as she was, the false promise of it ever lingered in the back of her mind and taunted her, springing its ugly head whenever the chance arose.
Naturally a little part of her was all too aware of this. It screamed at her to stay alert, stay wary - don’t be tricked into contentment at any cost!
But the promise of that elusive interaction, that coveted feeling of humanity was too much. It was to be expected that so pitiful creature would fall into the same traps again and again. It was why they could be trusted, and in the same breath why they could be disregarded.
First, there was the ‘chair’. It glided toward her on what she first assumed to be the nature of thin air, only to discover that the mode was primitive wheels. She was tempted to playfully push the chair back at him, just to see what would happen.
Usually, that was just how she was. She loved to see what would happen - to poke things, prod things, agitate things - just to see the play of cause and effect.
But she had seen first hand, with inconceivable brutality what happened when she agitated things here, in the New Place. She had seen what became of running her mouth and screwing around - here, where she was unimportant. Here, where she served no integral purpose. Here, where nobody had any reason at all to give her so much as a passing glance. She had gotten away with causing trouble before - before - in the memories that were vague and indistinct, that were only barely present at all, more like a forgotten dream than any past reality. She had been a necessary cog in the machine. They could reprimand her - punish her - but little more.
But here? Not so. Here she was as disposable as the Birds had always wished she was. Here, causing trouble, being curious - poking things - was unacceptable.
And so, though she was tempted to push the chair back - she didn’t.
She just looked at it from where she sat cross-legged beneath the desk, blinked once or twice. Looked from it, to the man, back to it.
Hesitantly, she stood, gestured vaguely toward the chair, glancing around and looking yet again back to him for confirmation - for permission.
It was obviously something to be sat upon. Everyone else was doing it. But that was where the trouble was - they were doing it - and she could not be certain if she was allowed to do anything that they were.
Interestingly, a minor detail about her person would become apparent once she was standing at her full, unimpressive height. It might have been a trick of the eye, but there appeared to be a very slightly visible line running diagonally down the white T shirt, from the left shoulder to halfway down her right midsection - exactly where the cutlass had bisected her not long before.
But he seemed very much to want her to sit - so she sat - pulling her legs up to again sit cross-legged on the chair, hands in lap.
Was it a test? It seemed cruel if that was the case, and somehow she felt that this man was not cruel. It wasn’t a test, apparently.
She fumbled when the ‘notebook’ and ‘pen’ were carelessly shoved into her hands. She almost dropped them as if they were very hot, but didn’t. Again, she glanced around to the others, and got a better idea of the status of these things. Not very important. Commonplace. He was watching her all the while, but smiling widely and reassuringly.
With a surprising dexterity, she played the pen in one hand, looked it over closely, rolled it between thumb and forefinger, tapped at the button on top to find that it clicked and moved a retractable tip at the opposite end. Said tip was coated in some kind of inky black substance, which she learned by also tapping a finger on that end, and finding a pinprick of black on her fingertip. With a note of distaste, she rubbed fingers together briefly and the pinprick smudge disappeared completely.
Her peremptory examination of the ‘notebook’ was quicker, as there was less to it. She thumbed through the pages, confirmed that they were all quite the same, and conveniently stacked so that when one was finished with one, they could remove it and the next would be right there. Handy.
At last, she decided to try it out. She tried out a number of ways of holding the pen before settling on the ‘thumb-and-forefinger’ method that the others were using. Clearly her hands were unfamiliar with the tool, but adapted well.
Always glancing between the paper and the man, she carefully dragged the black-coated tip of the thing in a short, concise line, and so the paper was marked with a short, concise black line.
Then, she drew a squggle in the vague shape of an S or Z. Then she rapidly scribbled back and forth in minute motions to produce a sort of cone shape. Then four lines in a row. Then another squiggle.
And when she felt that she had a good idea of how the whole thing worked, she bit her lip lightly - thoughtfully. Something had occurred to her.
Perhaps this would be a good means of communication?
So after one more hesitant, reaffirming look toward the man, she started in earnest - marking the page carefully, but at a reasonable pace.
First, lot of straight, vertical lines close together, with some that extended much higher. Then connecting them with mostly horizontal, some diagonal lines. It began to look like very distant, clustered skyscrapers.
Then a long, curving line below them all, as if they sat in a wide bowl. It was abruptly very clear what she had produced.
But curiously, she was not done. The structure she had loosely recreated was supposed to be surrounded by endless dunes - but she instead drew still more lines, all shorter, more spaced apart, surrounding the city-in-a-bowl. The lines stretched across the page until they created a vague horizon.
Then it was a series of wide, curving arcs that might have been spiders with many extra limbs - and gently sloping vertical lines that made them out to be something akin to palm trees. Then a longer, bumpy line, and another. As she went along, she seemed to become more engrossed with the task - more passionate - and some distant, unfathomable emotion had flickered over her face as she did so.
But then, one might have expected a strange reaction that was difficult to place - for when the image was finished and she looked again up at the old man, it was a picture of a very familiar place indeed - in a very unfamiliar landscape. Far from professional, but admirable nonetheless.
She searched him for approval. Bit her lip again. Then endeavored to add one more detail to the picture - and this one made less sense than the rest.
Carefully, she went about drawing a blocky shape in the sky above the towers. When it was finished, she began shading it in so that it was stark, solid black against the white page - save for the shape forming in relief that might have been a football.
This was the important part. This was the part that she doubted whether or not she should add. Was this a question she really wanted to ask? Was the answer really one she wanted to hear? But she already had her suspicions - her curiosity was too great and needed to be sated…
And besides - if the answer was ’yes’ then she would need to be very, very careful…
But before she could finish that last, infinitely vital part of the picture, something changed. She had been so focused on that part, so focused on deciding and worrying whether or not it was the right thing to do - that she hadn’t noticed the change in the old man’s expression until it was too late - until he heard the change in his voice.
When she looked up, her eyes went wide, and hand froze with pen still on paper. Her body tensed visibly, and she gaped fearfully up at him.
Others began panicking too. She glanced around at them nervously, always looking back to the old man in rapidly mounting terror.
What had she done now!
Stupid! Why had she ever come out from under that table in the first place!
The chaos paused briefly - the eye of the storm - as everyone went silent and turned to one man, who spoke stuttered words as though he had witnessed something very frightening.
Everyone seemed frightened - and in a way, that was a relief to her - because it was very unlikely that they would be afraid of her.
Still, the infinite possibilities raced through her head. All the different things she might have done differently. All the reasons why she might still be in trouble. She shook very slightly, the tension of her body as it remained otherwise stationary.
A distant part of her hoped in vain that the old man might do that thing again, where he put his hand on her shoulder. That had been the most comforting thing anyone had ever done. It had made her feel for once that she had done something right.
But instead - quite to the contrary - she found herself being roughly grabbed by the hand and yanked out of the chair. A dark, scarring line was left on the page as she dropped the pen, and stumbled rather violently out of the chair with an audible, frightened yelp.
She even actively resisted him this time, making briefly as if to stand her ground and tug her hand away - but she was too frightened to put up any more than a perfunctory fight and found herself stumbling along obediently behind him as he muttered in what could only have been a cold fury.
For the first time since before she had been sent into UnBeing, she spoke. The words were tiny, almost inaudible, utterly meek and terrified. More akin to a helpless, panicked, despairing and utterly confused whimper than anything - but nevertheless another rare glimpse at her native language - even if everyone was much too busy to hear it.
"A-ae'a s'steaa! Y'lrü had i lai à'ty'?!” She pleaded, begged.
Even she didn’t realize she’d spoken until afterwards - and she regretted it - but was glad that it had gone at least visibly unnoticed.
What had she done now!?
Even she had to admit that these were some pretty mixed signals…
Though she also had to admit that it did not seem entirely certain that she was the source of it all. So than, what?
Her panic rose still when she saw the dreaded doors and doubled when she found herself again faced with the man in white! Just because she was pretty certain that he didn’t hold the real power around here didn’t mean she was any less terrified of him. He was a Bird - he thought he was in control because he looked like he was - but in reality it was someone else who held the power.
But he had all the cruelty of the Birds. The Red Birds.
And now she was being dragged right back to him!
She yanked her hand forcibly away from the old man at the same moment he released her, which caused her to stumble back a few steps. And she cowered there, raising arms in vain defence, whimpering and closing eyes tightly to keep from witnessing her next UnBeing.
But…
The blow never came.
She stood like that for a long moment - but the blow never came.
Eventually she opened one eye and peered through her arms. The man in white - the White Bird - was occupied. So then, she realized, she had been right. The source of everyone’s panic had not been her.
The relief poured over her in waves. The trembling continued, but her shoulders slumped as the weight of impending doom slid off them.
But the anxiety of the others was contagious. Everyone was moving around, yelling, talking loudly, exchanging words and information. Slightly dazed from it all, she stepped back a few paces, looked around, found a chair toward the back of the room, and curled up in it with legs crossed and hands in lap. She was out of the way. Back here, she couldn’t get into any trouble - couldn’t get in anyone’s way - couldn’t trip someone and make them hate her, couldn’t annoy people who were doing important things.
Usually, her curiosity would have overtaken her. Usually she would have been right up with the rest of them whether they liked it or not.
But usually, they couldn’t have done anything about it.
The curiosity - the desire to learn - and even the mischievous, playful nature were not completely gone from her - but the recent events had dampened them. She was meek now - timid - anxious - as to be expected. She was cautious and wary.
So for now, she endeavored to stay out of the way, sitting perched on the chair in the back of the room, and just looking about with apprehensive, but sharply curious white-ringed eyes.
Everyone else was frightened, and so she too was gradually adopting their fear. She was not immune to that. The fact that she knew nothing of what was going on only made it worse.
Then, at last, a development occurred. A great swath of the front wall shifted to display a myriad of specks of color - billions of specks, in all different sizes, all different shades. A vague swirling pattern in their stillness implied movement where there was none. Her eyes widened marginally. It was beautiful.
But she had not the faintest idea what they actually were, or what they meant.
The idea that they might have been suns had simply not occurred to her - for she had never seen any except one. Sure, if she thought about it, a great many suns seen from very far away would obviously mean a great many specks - but the idea that there could have been a great many suns in the first place was so alien that it simply did not come to mind.
All she saw was a very beautiful array of specks on a screen, with one area blotted out. Everyone was very upset about it - and she hadn’t the faintest idea why. And, as curious as she was to know what everyone else was freaking out over - she said nothing. She just sat in the chair in the back of the room, cross-legged with arms resting in her lap, and watched with attentive uncertainty. And she would do so until otherwise addressed.
And in the Kingsbane Research Department, the drawing lay all but forgotten...
The Stella Viventium
Aelyn-Paeryc Petrovalyc stared at the fuchsia-haired “Dimensional Lord” for a long moment, awaiting this supposedly vital information that he claimed to have. Valheimer was silent, and he was absently beginning to wonder if perhaps she had lost her mind completely - but it was of no importance at this time. She had refused to be of any help anyway, so what did she matter?
Before Caru could speak, however, his dead, blank expression changed minutely - eyebrows raised very slightly. He held up a finger in the universal ’wait’ gesture, then put a finger habitually to his ear and spoke aloud. ”Repeat that, please.” He said flatly.
Virtually nobody spoke aloud via BrainPal™. The Captain’s habit of doing so was a tradition so ancient that it was all but forgotten - from the days of earpieces. The finger-to-the-ear gesture was the same - nobody did that. It was as if he were a very old man sticking to the mannerisms of his youth. It was frankly outdated - purely archaic. But then, so were Dorin Harkahn’s glasses.
The Captain frowned slightly, brows still raised. ”Gone?” He said. Then, ”Notspace? No?” It seemed mildly interesting. Somewhat of a surprise. Something unusual and intriguing. He frowned thoughtfully. ”...Okay then. I...guess I’ll...look into it?” Indeed, he didn’t know what to do with the information. If it wasn’t Notspace, and it wasn’t related to Earth - then he didn’t particularly care.
He had already learned some trivia about a supposed collapse of the fabric of spacetime happening over some great length, and that had not particularly vexed him. Robots from another timestream had poked into his own - that was unusual - but it did not particularly affect him, nor his search for Earth of Sol.
But it still seemed like an important event - so naturally he was going to have to look into this - at least for a moment.
Harkahn, meanwhile, had received all the same information, and was staring at the surface of the table as if it were the most horrifying and grotesque thing he had ever seen.
”Uh...Okay then. Thanks. Harkahn and I will be in the R.C. soon.”
He dropped his finger from ear, then exchanged a ’well @#$%’ look with Alexia - then turned back to Caru.
”Alright. Tell me what you came to tell me, please.”
The Koolest Assault U Know
”You really are a fraud, aren’t you?” Ty said profoundly, with a sad smile and eyes that were as pitying as they were utterly revolted. Almost before he could get the words out, an explosive ”Are you FU-” screamed over the intercom, with Ty cutting it off mid-curse by flipping a switch absentmindedly.
”Everything about you. You never cared about Rin at all. You could pretend you did as long as you were taking advantage of him. But the moment it put you in any trouble you dropped him like an old hat.” He shook his head despondently. ”We’ll be sure to tell him how you abandoned him.” He spoke as the Cat was climbing into the tank, kept speaking for he knew well that such primitive machines were full of openings and gaps that allowed sight from within, and that he could be heard.
The El Dorado and Koolest were connected via the cargo bay doors, which opened to allow transfer of the tank and its occupant. Over the roar if it’s ancient combustion engines, Ty had to shout to be heard - but heard he would be. ”And Laurent! If we ever see you again, we’ll shoot on sight!”
Sands, who had as of yet said nothing, merely stood beside Jet, arms crossed, head shaking slowly. ”Sure as heck glad to have one good person joining us.” He muttered, obviously referring to Jet himself. ”And I’ll be just as happy never to see that sack of @#$% again.”
When the doors were again sealed and the junker running away with proverbial tail between legs, it appeared that zero-hour had come. It seemed Dallen would have to fend for herself in the unlikely event of a counter-boarding, but there was nothing to be done - a full boarding party was going to be required for this stupidly risky mission to go anything other than very, very badly.
The three of them crammed into the tiny converted boarding-vessel - made to feel all the more like sardines for Jackson’s overwhelming bulk but all the more comforted for it.
Once packed in tight and sealed, the dimly lit space seemed claustrophobic and made only more so by the sudden jerking back as the pod was mounted onto the launching rails. In yachts like this one, often the greatest danger was critical reactor failure leading to meltdown - so the escape pods were usually designed like bulky cannons - firing the pod and occupants with incredible velocity to get them as far as possible from the potential detonation. The sound of the hatch closing them into the barrel of that hefty rail-cannon was heard only faintly through the hastily reinforced pod’s armor. After that, it would be up to the pilot. In normal circumstances, the pod’s occupant could launch it with the press of a button - but a maneuver this foolish required a level of finesse that only the pilot could acquire…
The instant that his eye caught the hint of movement from just beyond the range of hazy vision, E’tzu Tsuan knew he was dead. He shouldn’t have just walked to the obvious place like that - should have carefully scanned the room and flush out potential ambushers. The flaring star of pain did not seem an admirable enough excuse for his own oversight - though he would be forced to admit that the lack of caution had been inevitable given his present desperation.
Nevertheless, there was more adrenaline than shock in him now, and his immediate instinct was to whirl around and draw his pistol in one swift and elegant gesture - made considerably less swift and elegant by his overall pitiful condition. He might have even gotten a shot off, if there had been anyone to shoot. But when no target became immediately apparent, he grew all the wearier and stepped closer after a moment’s foggy deliberation. The movement of the stealthy hunter was worked into his bones, and the soles of his quality combat boots made no sound as he crept one step, two steps, three steps closer. If not for the shadows encroaching upon his vision from all sides, he might have comprehended what he was seeing earlier - but it was not until he was within several feet before he understood.
A bird.
Tsuan accepted this as completely normal, as did he accept that the way it was looking at him was not indicative of a mere animal - not that he could prove it.
Then came that faint sound, and the indistinct, vague shift in the fabric of reality that either meant pain-induced hallucination or some cloaked enemy.
Still brandishing the pistol, he stared at the space where something invisible may have been slumbering. Then he looked back to the bird, met it’s gaze with as meaningful a look as he could. Then he looked back to the indistinct shape, raised the gun, aimed it at the shape, and glanced once more to the bird.
Having no serious, solid reason to believe that this bird was anything more than a simple animal other than a vague, unjustified hunch, this was an abhorrently stupid thing to be doing. Nobody in their right mind could conceive of asking a bird for permission to shoot something...and then still more expecting it to reply with a coherent answer. But Tsuan was rarely in his right mind to begin with, especially now when everything was hazy and shadows encroached on his mind as darkly as his eyes. Plus, he was dealing with aliens - true aliens - not mere offworlders, nor some non-carbon based lifeform from a different system. Aliens.
And...Hadn’t Rai been conversing psychically with someone? Had he mentioned a name? A ’familiar’? It wasn’t as if he had any frame of reference to know just what the wod implied - but if nothing else, he had gut instinct. So he waited for a brief moment and searched the caged bird for a sign - anything that might say ’no’.
If some sign to the contrary was given, he would not shoot, and instead reach for the cage’s unlocking mechanism. If there was no sign - for he assumed that it would be much easier for a creature with no humanoid aspects to indicate the negative than the positive - he would fire, at would amounted to almost point-blank, delivering what amounted to a hollowpoint slug of supercooled death that would surely obliterate whatever unfortunate creature was so stricken.
But he had only that one last moment to make an intelligent decision - for the very moment that he unlatched the cage or fired the gun, the Qetan Scout Ship would buck beneath him as the great, hollow crashing of some sizable projectile penetrated the hull with devastating force.
The yacht’s engines screamed as Dallen Armston was pressed into her seat with a force that dwarfed the one they had rode on the way over. The utter stupidity of the maneuver - the sheer brilliant luck that would be required to pull it off - both were pressed out of her mind to focus on the impossible task at hand - to build up enough momentum to fire a modified escape pod through the hull of an armored scout ship and hope the occupants didn’t get smashed to pulp in the process. If the luck persisted and her natural talent proved great enough, the drive-plume of the yacht would help cook the heat-proofed outer shell of the pod to further assist in a clean entry wound.
The pod was designed to crash-land on a planet with full atmosphere at excessive speeds - with the added armor and other modifications they had a chance - albeit a slim one.
The moment arrived. Sweating madly Dallen slammed the controls with fervor as every reasonable synapse in her brain pleaded her to the contrary. The gravity shifted furiously as the yacht arced around and the engines roared as they were forced to compensate the momentum. Slamming a hand down with all her might against the shifting pull the thump of the escape pod cannon firing was barely audible.
In the pod itself gravity shifted similarly - pressing the jam-packed soldiers into one wall, then the other. Then the hand of a giant descended on their chests in an instant that would have snapped their necks if not for the built-in supports. THey wr a bullet now, an object being cooked by the engine that had fired it hurdling toward an enemy at intolerable velocity. What little Sands could do to control it he did, seeing to it that their momentum was guided toward the proper target.
Then in an instant, the superheated cannonball crashed through the hull of the enemy vessel and lated to a stop suddenly within the belly of the beast. The hyper-cushioning gel deflated from overuse and something sparked and fizzled, but already the door was being ejected - the hot metal panel utterly mutilating anyone who might have been on the opposite side as it was flung across the room - and the soldiers within unpacked themselves with utmost haste to get a bearing on their surroundings.
Chatter was minimal, with the facemask respirators acting as short-range transmitters to attached earpieces.
Nothing short of death would halt their advance. They would be relentless, a killing force of nature - an entity of three which would bring slaughter to any who dared stand in their path. Jackson would tear doors off hinges, Sands and T’yzfir would mow down countless troops - it did not matter how many soldiers this enemy boat held. They would storm each new room with force and coordinated precision. They would storm by fire and might and take back what was theirs - or they would die trying.
But...It was as the song said.
Ah, $#&%, er, um, Shen twittered, tail ruffling in- well, it wasn't glee, that was for sure. Certainly not. That would be an awful way to fail his stupidly attached familiar's Mission. The agitated bird made a sharp motion- one, twice- to the left.
NO please?! They squawked- as hushed as they can. They failed, a little- it was still pretty sharp. It'll kill the Qetan welp's sister! they chittered, now certain that the... humanoid's mind was still muddled. From pain, perhaps. They took another look and cringed. Yeah, probably.
But before they launch another attempt at communication, the male reached out for the lock to their cage.
Their head shot forward. Wait! The shield-
The door swung open.
They gaped. What-?
A heavy LURCH made Shen perform a mad scrabble toward the wall not layered with painful shield-shocks, talons screeching on the metal.
And-
Laith jolted, waking instantly from her nap before darting away from the dangerous force shield around the bird's prison. Eyes like molten gold fixed on Tsuan. She slowly, steadily, stepped forward, camouflage falling away like a veil, drawing herself up in a threatening stance.
Spikes and sharp fins flared out, cool colors of poison jade and navy blue blending in a gleaming, scaly sheen. Glowing specks and streaks of purple only served to make the dragon-like lizard seem bigger- not that it needed help on that department. The familiar was easily Shen's approxiamate size.
Intruder! she screeched, a rattling hiss the only indication she spoke aloud. Before she could say any more, a vague flutter from the corner of her eye made itself known- and landed right in between her and the initial target.
Why was the cage door unlocked?! They screeched, batting their wings in an equal parts agitated and threatening manner. She hissed. What are you planning?!
Not telling, egghead, she rumbled, reveling in the offended snarl it brought out of them.
I'll MAKE you! Before she could say anymore, they lashed out, talon snagging part of her bony shoulderblade. They heaved- and threw her, right over the intruder, the comatose prisoner, and out the laboratory door.
Shen let out a battle cry, flying over the two and into the hall outside the lab.
Sounds of lightning shocks, fiery flare bursts, and acidic poison splats echoed across the hall.
The hit was an awful surprise.
Rai stumbled to the side, lurching forward to cling at one of Reqti's shoulders. For a terrifying moment, their hold on their weapon loosened- but no. It was still in their grasp. Reqti, they noted, was taking this a little better- though he did lose his balance for a brief second when they held on to him instead of letting go.
"They're here," he murmered.
Rai reached up, determined to take off his helmet. "What do you mean?" they huffed, equal parts confused, frustrated, dreading the answer. "I-"
Reqti held their wrist, halting their hand's progress toward his helmet. They both paused- then, turning as one, looked at the far hall.
Footsteps.
Instincts... blaring-
They raced to the transporter, Reqti slamming a palm at the topmost button as soon as Rai jumped into the closet-like space.
The doors shut-
A flash of light-
And the doors of the 'elevator' opened to utter chaos.
Both Kiinris ducked as a flaming ball of- acid spit?- soared over them and SPLAT into the wall behind them.
Sorry! both familiars hissed/chirped. They glared at each other, then went back to clawing.
Rai could clearly make out Tsuan in the distance, beyond the lab doors- and- wait-
...Uh... I could have sworn that he had a hand... there...?
Well, the stupid reckless man did something, Shen sassily replied, blocking a spike to the face with a beak, 'cause he doesn't have one anymore!
Rai barely managed to contain his eye roll to acceptable levels.
Anyway, try doing something useful for once and help him with Rin. The Phyx puffed up their chest- and flames of aether wisped into being all around their body. I'll hold her off.
My hero, Rai sassed right back, glaring balefully at them before making their way across the hall, Laith thoroughly distracted by the battle at hand. From the corner of their eye they saw Reqti hesitate, almost facing Rai- and turned his back on them, striding quickly towards the front of the ship.
They slumped a little- and, resigned to finding a way to persuade the Qetans to come with them without a fight later, went straight for the lying figure on the platform.
Tahil was seething.
Well, who wouldn't? Her ship was infiltrated by a Nyran, just got pancaked by god knows what though she had a good guess, and-
Actually, that was pretty much it.
An unholy screech rang out before a violent SPLAT rang from the hallway. Mental curses came pouring out like gamma rays through her bond.
... Also her hot-headed familiar was fighting a big bird.
I hate this plan, she sulked, furiously tapping out commands, making sure everything was ready before she took out the chip and pocketed it in a safe place.
Grabbing her stunner, she made her way to the door of her lab- and pressed the keys in the correct sequence, face composed, but eyes betraying her inner feelings on the matter.
This is gonna be fun.
Rai stopped beside the platform in the middle of the room... then winced at the blackened flesh at the end of Tsuan's limb- the one not holding a gun.
"I can try to make that... uh... less? Infection-worthy?" they said, tentative. "I'm not a healer or anything, but-"
The door- the other door to the lab, because, of course, the lab was right in the middle of the second floor, right in between the transporter and the helm- opened up to reveal wild-eyed Qetan woman.
"Hello, Nyran scum," she growled- before firing her stunner at Rai. They yelped, dropping to the ground as the blast almost grazed their shoulder. She turned the weapon towards Tsuan, eyes flickering over to Tsuan's mangled hand in interest.
"Oh, lovely," she murmured, stepping forward, gun still trained at his chest, completely taken by the black mess. "I'm sure I can craft a wonderful hand just for you. Shouldn't be so hard... after all, you have energy inside you." She tutted, calculating look turning a tad more malicious. "How'd you manage to lose it so fast? You're a weird one."
"Let him be, Tahil," Rai said, standing up, staff pointing to the ground. They twitched. "You've lost. Your ship is being boarded. If you don't wanna die, you gotta stand down."
She narrowed her eyes, red koh a severe blood red in the harsh light. "After ransacking my ship? No thanks."
"To be fair, you did steal one of their own," they pointed out, hoping to reason with her.
No such luck.
"And it's a good thing too," she said, mouth tilting up in a pleased way. "He had some sort of device on his wrist! Somewhat crude, I admit, and not well thought out, either. There shouldn't have been any real skin there if he ever planned to use it right."
They didn't like the look on her face. She looked... thrilled. She was even more of an enigma than Reqti, though her loyalty to her partner was a proven constant.
Anyway. They had to get out of here. Idly, they wondered to themself which 'they' they meant- Tsuan and the Nyrans, or the Qetans. Or both.
"Let it go," they said, suddenly weary. "You don't shoot, we don't shoot, nobody dies. Let us go."
NO please?! They squawked- as hushed as they can. They failed, a little- it was still pretty sharp. It'll kill the Qetan welp's sister! they chittered, now certain that the... humanoid's mind was still muddled. From pain, perhaps. They took another look and cringed. Yeah, probably.
But before they launch another attempt at communication, the male reached out for the lock to their cage.
Their head shot forward. Wait! The shield-
The door swung open.
They gaped. What-?
A heavy LURCH made Shen perform a mad scrabble toward the wall not layered with painful shield-shocks, talons screeching on the metal.
And-
Laith jolted, waking instantly from her nap before darting away from the dangerous force shield around the bird's prison. Eyes like molten gold fixed on Tsuan. She slowly, steadily, stepped forward, camouflage falling away like a veil, drawing herself up in a threatening stance.
Spikes and sharp fins flared out, cool colors of poison jade and navy blue blending in a gleaming, scaly sheen. Glowing specks and streaks of purple only served to make the dragon-like lizard seem bigger- not that it needed help on that department. The familiar was easily Shen's approxiamate size.
Intruder! she screeched, a rattling hiss the only indication she spoke aloud. Before she could say any more, a vague flutter from the corner of her eye made itself known- and landed right in between her and the initial target.
Why was the cage door unlocked?! They screeched, batting their wings in an equal parts agitated and threatening manner. She hissed. What are you planning?!
Not telling, egghead, she rumbled, reveling in the offended snarl it brought out of them.
I'll MAKE you! Before she could say anymore, they lashed out, talon snagging part of her bony shoulderblade. They heaved- and threw her, right over the intruder, the comatose prisoner, and out the laboratory door.
Shen let out a battle cry, flying over the two and into the hall outside the lab.
Sounds of lightning shocks, fiery flare bursts, and acidic poison splats echoed across the hall.
The hit was an awful surprise.
Rai stumbled to the side, lurching forward to cling at one of Reqti's shoulders. For a terrifying moment, their hold on their weapon loosened- but no. It was still in their grasp. Reqti, they noted, was taking this a little better- though he did lose his balance for a brief second when they held on to him instead of letting go.
"They're here," he murmered.
Rai reached up, determined to take off his helmet. "What do you mean?" they huffed, equal parts confused, frustrated, dreading the answer. "I-"
Reqti held their wrist, halting their hand's progress toward his helmet. They both paused- then, turning as one, looked at the far hall.
Footsteps.
Instincts... blaring-
They raced to the transporter, Reqti slamming a palm at the topmost button as soon as Rai jumped into the closet-like space.
The doors shut-
A flash of light-
And the doors of the 'elevator' opened to utter chaos.
Both Kiinris ducked as a flaming ball of- acid spit?- soared over them and SPLAT into the wall behind them.
Sorry! both familiars hissed/chirped. They glared at each other, then went back to clawing.
Rai could clearly make out Tsuan in the distance, beyond the lab doors- and- wait-
...Uh... I could have sworn that he had a hand... there...?
Well, the stupid reckless man did something, Shen sassily replied, blocking a spike to the face with a beak, 'cause he doesn't have one anymore!
Rai barely managed to contain his eye roll to acceptable levels.
Anyway, try doing something useful for once and help him with Rin. The Phyx puffed up their chest- and flames of aether wisped into being all around their body. I'll hold her off.
My hero, Rai sassed right back, glaring balefully at them before making their way across the hall, Laith thoroughly distracted by the battle at hand. From the corner of their eye they saw Reqti hesitate, almost facing Rai- and turned his back on them, striding quickly towards the front of the ship.
They slumped a little- and, resigned to finding a way to persuade the Qetans to come with them without a fight later, went straight for the lying figure on the platform.
Tahil was seething.
Well, who wouldn't? Her ship was infiltrated by a Nyran, just got pancaked by god knows what though she had a good guess, and-
Actually, that was pretty much it.
An unholy screech rang out before a violent SPLAT rang from the hallway. Mental curses came pouring out like gamma rays through her bond.
... Also her hot-headed familiar was fighting a big bird.
I hate this plan, she sulked, furiously tapping out commands, making sure everything was ready before she took out the chip and pocketed it in a safe place.
Grabbing her stunner, she made her way to the door of her lab- and pressed the keys in the correct sequence, face composed, but eyes betraying her inner feelings on the matter.
This is gonna be fun.
Rai stopped beside the platform in the middle of the room... then winced at the blackened flesh at the end of Tsuan's limb- the one not holding a gun.
"I can try to make that... uh... less? Infection-worthy?" they said, tentative. "I'm not a healer or anything, but-"
The door- the other door to the lab, because, of course, the lab was right in the middle of the second floor, right in between the transporter and the helm- opened up to reveal wild-eyed Qetan woman.
"Hello, Nyran scum," she growled- before firing her stunner at Rai. They yelped, dropping to the ground as the blast almost grazed their shoulder. She turned the weapon towards Tsuan, eyes flickering over to Tsuan's mangled hand in interest.
"Oh, lovely," she murmured, stepping forward, gun still trained at his chest, completely taken by the black mess. "I'm sure I can craft a wonderful hand just for you. Shouldn't be so hard... after all, you have energy inside you." She tutted, calculating look turning a tad more malicious. "How'd you manage to lose it so fast? You're a weird one."
"Let him be, Tahil," Rai said, standing up, staff pointing to the ground. They twitched. "You've lost. Your ship is being boarded. If you don't wanna die, you gotta stand down."
She narrowed her eyes, red koh a severe blood red in the harsh light. "After ransacking my ship? No thanks."
"To be fair, you did steal one of their own," they pointed out, hoping to reason with her.
No such luck.
"And it's a good thing too," she said, mouth tilting up in a pleased way. "He had some sort of device on his wrist! Somewhat crude, I admit, and not well thought out, either. There shouldn't have been any real skin there if he ever planned to use it right."
They didn't like the look on her face. She looked... thrilled. She was even more of an enigma than Reqti, though her loyalty to her partner was a proven constant.
Anyway. They had to get out of here. Idly, they wondered to themself which 'they' they meant- Tsuan and the Nyrans, or the Qetans. Or both.
"Let it go," they said, suddenly weary. "You don't shoot, we don't shoot, nobody dies. Let us go."
Wyr heard a beep.
She blinked, momentarily torn from her nudging whoever remained in the mall to leave out of the attacker's range. At first, she thought it was Vaxur, calling for backup, or maybe to check on her- but as soon as she looked down her throat closed up and her eyes became blurred.
Rin.
She opened her communicator, hardly daring to breathe. An hour away from Kremlin mall. But...
A distress signal. He was-
"Vaxur, please respond."
"Commander! Sorry, just leading the last of this group away. There was a pretty bad explosion, ears are kinda ringing. I'm clear on this section. Do you-"
"I found Rin."
"... W-wha- oh, oh my god. I didn't hear it beep-"
"Understandable, given what you said just happened." She took a solid breath. "Vaxur, we must leave."
"... Roger that, Commander." A grunt, a few ragged breaths, then fast steps. "We'll just tell a dendril to thank Lord Erica and say we're on our way, yeah?"
"That would be wise." She bowed her head, eyes becoming half-closed. "The signal..."
"... I know," he whispered. For a moment the com was silent. When his voice came through, it was with an edge she only rarely heard in the direst of situations. "We'll be ready."
And they were. Once they'd informed a dendril of their departure, they climbed back inside their ship. Meeting eyes, they nodded.
The scout ship carefully extracted itself out of the Lord Erica's ship, escaping into the silent void of space. They opened a hyperspace window- and they were gone.
... A second later they jumped out of hyperspace to see a huge chaotic mess.
"... Uh... that looks..." Vaxur's hands spazzed in an effort to covey what exactly he was seeing. "Damn, I dunno, but that ship's back looks like $#&%."
She couldn't blame his blunt assessment- what she assumed was a small cargo bay was utterly destroyed by the oversized pod sticking out of it.
At least the transfer port was in one piece. Small miracles.
Now that they were here, the question is...
Was Rin being infiltrated... or rescued...?
She blinked, momentarily torn from her nudging whoever remained in the mall to leave out of the attacker's range. At first, she thought it was Vaxur, calling for backup, or maybe to check on her- but as soon as she looked down her throat closed up and her eyes became blurred.
Rin.
She opened her communicator, hardly daring to breathe. An hour away from Kremlin mall. But...
A distress signal. He was-
"Vaxur, please respond."
"Commander! Sorry, just leading the last of this group away. There was a pretty bad explosion, ears are kinda ringing. I'm clear on this section. Do you-"
"I found Rin."
"... W-wha- oh, oh my god. I didn't hear it beep-"
"Understandable, given what you said just happened." She took a solid breath. "Vaxur, we must leave."
"... Roger that, Commander." A grunt, a few ragged breaths, then fast steps. "We'll just tell a dendril to thank Lord Erica and say we're on our way, yeah?"
"That would be wise." She bowed her head, eyes becoming half-closed. "The signal..."
"... I know," he whispered. For a moment the com was silent. When his voice came through, it was with an edge she only rarely heard in the direst of situations. "We'll be ready."
And they were. Once they'd informed a dendril of their departure, they climbed back inside their ship. Meeting eyes, they nodded.
The scout ship carefully extracted itself out of the Lord Erica's ship, escaping into the silent void of space. They opened a hyperspace window- and they were gone.
... A second later they jumped out of hyperspace to see a huge chaotic mess.
"... Uh... that looks..." Vaxur's hands spazzed in an effort to covey what exactly he was seeing. "Damn, I dunno, but that ship's back looks like $#&%."
She couldn't blame his blunt assessment- what she assumed was a small cargo bay was utterly destroyed by the oversized pod sticking out of it.
At least the transfer port was in one piece. Small miracles.
Now that they were here, the question is...
Was Rin being infiltrated... or rescued...?
Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing
Those words could never be so true to Caru. The more he stared into those dark abysses of his eyes all he can see was the eyes that have haunted for eternity. Those eyes were the same eyes that looked at him as he was tossed into the void. They were the eyes that scream that the means he will do anything to achieve is goals and hearing Harkhan and seeing the lack of emotional response with the man with the eyes of the abyss, his feeling in his gut was good as gold.
Louder! Louder! Louder! It his the beating of his hideous heart!
As the more he stared into the man's eyes sound of the beating heart became louder and louder, was it Caru's own or was it his? No one was for certain, but the more he stared dumbly at him, the more haunting the each beat of the muscle became to almost a deafing tone! All he could see was this man in a black room, merely curising the poor lord with his eye as his ears were clogged by the blasted sound of the heart! He wanted to stop it, but he couldn't, he knew he could stabbed this man in the heart to stop the beating of his love muscle, for Caru is love. But even love can falter in the sight of fright. Then he heard it, the familiar cackle of the long dead lord of madness Ragnarok. How could this be? The man was dead so long ago, his head on a pike as trophy during the Great Purge. However this man always alluded that he could never be killed since he lives in everyone's mind, was this his doing? Staring into a man's eyes and listening nothing but a calm beating heart as it slowly got faster and faster? Was it his own way in getting at a lord that did him no harm? Beating just gets louder and louder for poor Caru, he couldn't take it, but soon the spell was broken the second time the man spoke to him.
He shook his head to get him out of the trance as he took a deep breath and says "I have message from a Dimensional Lord who is allied to you" he closed his eyes, glade that he doesn't have to see his eyes again as he reads the mental letter in his head even as those eyes remained trance on looking at him
Dear Aelyn and others involved
I am glade that Lord Caru has made it upon your ship to report this message. I am Lord Ova, Dimensional Lord of Undead and Darkness and I am your...ally. In for glorious attempt to disrupt the balance in the galaxy, you have aided me in my arrival to this realm and so in kindness I have taken upon myself to distract Lord Kampfer and Lord Erica forces as you find what you are looking for...the fabled Sol System. However upon your journey do I hope we meet in person for I wish to help you on your endeavor...being Lord of the Undead I do have souls and I maybe tempted to see if I have your brother's soul and you both can have a chat while we discuss on how we find the system. I know you must be skeptical of this, but you must take my word for it. For what is the purpose in doing things alone with the weight upon your shoulders instead of having friends and allies to help you carry the burden. All I ask is you support me against Kampfer and Erica.
Hope to see you soon
Love Lord Ova
P.S. If you decide to become hostile to me, let me reassure you that your little Notspace will not protect you from the army of the damn nor Darkness, for in which the only thing in nothingness is darkness
After reading the mental letter, Caru didn't want to see Aelyn and so he slams his head upon the table and put his hands on top of his head as he closes his eyes...all in an effort not to hear the beating of the tell tale heart
Those words could never be so true to Caru. The more he stared into those dark abysses of his eyes all he can see was the eyes that have haunted for eternity. Those eyes were the same eyes that looked at him as he was tossed into the void. They were the eyes that scream that the means he will do anything to achieve is goals and hearing Harkhan and seeing the lack of emotional response with the man with the eyes of the abyss, his feeling in his gut was good as gold.
Louder! Louder! Louder! It his the beating of his hideous heart!
As the more he stared into the man's eyes sound of the beating heart became louder and louder, was it Caru's own or was it his? No one was for certain, but the more he stared dumbly at him, the more haunting the each beat of the muscle became to almost a deafing tone! All he could see was this man in a black room, merely curising the poor lord with his eye as his ears were clogged by the blasted sound of the heart! He wanted to stop it, but he couldn't, he knew he could stabbed this man in the heart to stop the beating of his love muscle, for Caru is love. But even love can falter in the sight of fright. Then he heard it, the familiar cackle of the long dead lord of madness Ragnarok. How could this be? The man was dead so long ago, his head on a pike as trophy during the Great Purge. However this man always alluded that he could never be killed since he lives in everyone's mind, was this his doing? Staring into a man's eyes and listening nothing but a calm beating heart as it slowly got faster and faster? Was it his own way in getting at a lord that did him no harm? Beating just gets louder and louder for poor Caru, he couldn't take it, but soon the spell was broken the second time the man spoke to him.
He shook his head to get him out of the trance as he took a deep breath and says "I have message from a Dimensional Lord who is allied to you" he closed his eyes, glade that he doesn't have to see his eyes again as he reads the mental letter in his head even as those eyes remained trance on looking at him
Dear Aelyn and others involved
I am glade that Lord Caru has made it upon your ship to report this message. I am Lord Ova, Dimensional Lord of Undead and Darkness and I am your...ally. In for glorious attempt to disrupt the balance in the galaxy, you have aided me in my arrival to this realm and so in kindness I have taken upon myself to distract Lord Kampfer and Lord Erica forces as you find what you are looking for...the fabled Sol System. However upon your journey do I hope we meet in person for I wish to help you on your endeavor...being Lord of the Undead I do have souls and I maybe tempted to see if I have your brother's soul and you both can have a chat while we discuss on how we find the system. I know you must be skeptical of this, but you must take my word for it. For what is the purpose in doing things alone with the weight upon your shoulders instead of having friends and allies to help you carry the burden. All I ask is you support me against Kampfer and Erica.
Hope to see you soon
Love Lord Ova
P.S. If you decide to become hostile to me, let me reassure you that your little Notspace will not protect you from the army of the damn nor Darkness, for in which the only thing in nothingness is darkness
After reading the mental letter, Caru didn't want to see Aelyn and so he slams his head upon the table and put his hands on top of his head as he closes his eyes...all in an effort not to hear the beating of the tell tale heart
The trio had their little welcoming upon arrival, not that all of them liked it, but it was something. As usual, Haleon was not feeling too comfortable. Way too many strangers. His ears folded backwards, eyes stuck on the reptile.
".... That one's gonna eat us, right..?" Spoken out loud, mostly as if whispering to the others that shared his species. He sounded unsure, the markings on his fur, or rather, the reverse - being his fur and not the markings, as colors were reversed while their fur was wet - still, they turned to reflect the mood of Shashi as he spoke. Was not easy to pick up, but it wasn't hostile.
"Ah shush, not with me around~ Chill~" Solki decided to at least act proud and strong, standing on his toes, buffing up his chest and trying to make the creature think twice about eating his magenta self. No touching this guy! That was his idea at least, and he'd definitely at least make it so that the main target of Shashi was not him. To take advantage of the punchline, he'd be patting Haleon's shoulder, rather harshly, using some of his ice abilities to cool down the armor on that spot to make the other literally chill.
What he got in return was an angry hiss and a swat at his arm. No punchlines for him!
Regardless, Solki's only reaction was to shrug, look towards the detective at his comment on the awkwardness, point towards him and speak.
"He gets it~" Hopefully so! Whichever the case, Solki was trying to act as normal as he could. Walking off the door, he made his way to the seated tables a little further in the bar, just looking for a soft spot somewhere in the room where he could lay down like he owned the place. So he laid down on the seats, on his back, stretched as far as he could, gauntlets were off, and he was making sure to get his talon like fingers and claws on Everything he could reach, scratching them as he stretches - but made sure to not actually break or rip anything. "Oh yes~"
He was making himself quite comfortable indeed, just flopping and laying there. Acting with no real care.
Giving a shrug at it all, knowing there was no stopping the other, Siro tried to deal with the things with underlying thoughts of 'Can't tell him no because he won't listen, so letting him do what he does is less trouble - at least less trouble for me myself' some logic behind it all. At least an attempt. Stepping further, partially dragging Haleon with her as to not have the grumpy one blocking the entrance.
Drying up, all the Modrals were going to look rather strange for a moment. Mottled with 'holes' in their coloration as the dried up parts regained their usual colors.
Giving the reptile a nod in greeting, acting all calm even if there was a little doubt due to the fact she had never seen anyone or anything like that. But making good first impressions was important, right? Haleon surely wasn't going to make the attempt on painting them in good light, and Solki was... Solki. So it all fell on Siro if anyone. She could even give a silent wave over to Jacobo and at least attempted a smile if she was noticed. At least she was trying.
Taking the offered seat, Siro dragged Haleon on over to sit on the seat near hers, giving him a rather clear look.
"I trust you can sit on your own?"
And he did sit, just that she'd get an aggrivated puff of air in return, and a back turning on all of them. Pouty man, arms crossed and all.
"Okay then." Shrugging it off again, the usual. She'd be free to turn herself over to the others then. "? You speak of a contest? What is that?" Answering the Detective's question, with probably something he wasn't expecting at first, considering he had been rather right so far. "I don't think I've heard of any contests being held or anything." Barely knew where they were, let alone what big corporations had arranged.
Haleon was much less interested in the topic chosen, his attention went over to the drinks served, and his gaze was looking to make them drop into some crack that, sadly, never appeared.
"You aren't looking to drug us with the drinks, are you?" He queried, from both the detective and the bartender. Questioning this showed that they either had some knowledge on the darker side of society, or that they were just cautious for other reasons. Like for the fact they were currently around strangers. He'd be having his eyes rather set on getting the right answer, and with their natural ability of reading emotions, lying was going to be very hard if not impossible.
Not picking a side by which to stand on, Siro left the drink be for the time being as well. Looking at the door when even more people seem to show up, her ear would twitch at the words spoken.
"Are you going somewhere? All of you?" Was it about the 'contest'?
".... That one's gonna eat us, right..?" Spoken out loud, mostly as if whispering to the others that shared his species. He sounded unsure, the markings on his fur, or rather, the reverse - being his fur and not the markings, as colors were reversed while their fur was wet - still, they turned to reflect the mood of Shashi as he spoke. Was not easy to pick up, but it wasn't hostile.
"Ah shush, not with me around~ Chill~" Solki decided to at least act proud and strong, standing on his toes, buffing up his chest and trying to make the creature think twice about eating his magenta self. No touching this guy! That was his idea at least, and he'd definitely at least make it so that the main target of Shashi was not him. To take advantage of the punchline, he'd be patting Haleon's shoulder, rather harshly, using some of his ice abilities to cool down the armor on that spot to make the other literally chill.
What he got in return was an angry hiss and a swat at his arm. No punchlines for him!
Regardless, Solki's only reaction was to shrug, look towards the detective at his comment on the awkwardness, point towards him and speak.
"He gets it~" Hopefully so! Whichever the case, Solki was trying to act as normal as he could. Walking off the door, he made his way to the seated tables a little further in the bar, just looking for a soft spot somewhere in the room where he could lay down like he owned the place. So he laid down on the seats, on his back, stretched as far as he could, gauntlets were off, and he was making sure to get his talon like fingers and claws on Everything he could reach, scratching them as he stretches - but made sure to not actually break or rip anything. "Oh yes~"
He was making himself quite comfortable indeed, just flopping and laying there. Acting with no real care.
Giving a shrug at it all, knowing there was no stopping the other, Siro tried to deal with the things with underlying thoughts of 'Can't tell him no because he won't listen, so letting him do what he does is less trouble - at least less trouble for me myself' some logic behind it all. At least an attempt. Stepping further, partially dragging Haleon with her as to not have the grumpy one blocking the entrance.
Drying up, all the Modrals were going to look rather strange for a moment. Mottled with 'holes' in their coloration as the dried up parts regained their usual colors.
Giving the reptile a nod in greeting, acting all calm even if there was a little doubt due to the fact she had never seen anyone or anything like that. But making good first impressions was important, right? Haleon surely wasn't going to make the attempt on painting them in good light, and Solki was... Solki. So it all fell on Siro if anyone. She could even give a silent wave over to Jacobo and at least attempted a smile if she was noticed. At least she was trying.
Taking the offered seat, Siro dragged Haleon on over to sit on the seat near hers, giving him a rather clear look.
"I trust you can sit on your own?"
And he did sit, just that she'd get an aggrivated puff of air in return, and a back turning on all of them. Pouty man, arms crossed and all.
"Okay then." Shrugging it off again, the usual. She'd be free to turn herself over to the others then. "? You speak of a contest? What is that?" Answering the Detective's question, with probably something he wasn't expecting at first, considering he had been rather right so far. "I don't think I've heard of any contests being held or anything." Barely knew where they were, let alone what big corporations had arranged.
Haleon was much less interested in the topic chosen, his attention went over to the drinks served, and his gaze was looking to make them drop into some crack that, sadly, never appeared.
"You aren't looking to drug us with the drinks, are you?" He queried, from both the detective and the bartender. Questioning this showed that they either had some knowledge on the darker side of society, or that they were just cautious for other reasons. Like for the fact they were currently around strangers. He'd be having his eyes rather set on getting the right answer, and with their natural ability of reading emotions, lying was going to be very hard if not impossible.
Not picking a side by which to stand on, Siro left the drink be for the time being as well. Looking at the door when even more people seem to show up, her ear would twitch at the words spoken.
"Are you going somewhere? All of you?" Was it about the 'contest'?
One thought, speed. One gear, 5th. One direction, straight ahead. Ty told Jet where to breach, his consciousness on taking a back seat, like a mother bear looking for her cubs. It got to the point where Ty had to merely turn his head towards a door way and the sound of punches would begin to ring throughout the room. The more heavily reinforced doors went down like walls made of glass as the military outfit fired cryo-bolts, freezing the doors, and breaking them apart at their seams. Most rooms where empty, while others looked like renaissance paintings, with crates and other vaguely creature shaped crates being accidentally splattered against the wall. As Jet punched through it all, he cracked a smile. It was not one of happiness, more of knee-jerk reaction to the whole event. After traveling the stars for years, he had finally felt some sense of urgency. He finally had a purpose...these people. Their wacky squabbles, their deep friendship, their emotional breakdowns, it was this, this human element. He had been traveling by himself for so long, he had throw his emotions through the window, and donned a guise of a body-builder and pseudo-masculinity. He kept trying to convince himself that he needed to "turn over a new leaf" and that his hallucinogenic was disappointed in him. Out of all of the adventures he had gone on prior, none would feel as new and refreshing as this one. As the faint smile stained his lips, he kicked another door in.
They were going to get them. Tsuan and Rin. There was no question, it was going to happen.
They were going to get them. Tsuan and Rin. There was no question, it was going to happen.
Nirix was grateful for the distraction that Ketin provided.
He was always the energetic storyteller and now, she was more than willing to listen. The thoughts of the stolen kiss had all but faded to the back of her mind and she tried her hardest to focus on what was being said....
And yet, Nirix couldn't help but wonder if it had any meaning at all. The kiss had just been a spur of the moment kind of thing. Wick was just going through many emotions at the time and....
"Da'len, you shock even me with what you get yourself into," Nirix sliced through her own thoughts and silenced the odd stirring within her heart. A smile crawled onto her lips yet it did not entirely reach her eyes. Nirix was listening but also not. She was failing at her own feelings and denied herself that truth even still.
"I've never heard of something such as that, though I do not recommend you attend such an event as that, ever again. It was obviously not good for you" She added a few words here and there when needed.
Nirix may have looked okay, sounded perfectly normal and well. But the truth was not so. Her mind kept traveling to the one moment in time, replaying it over and over again.
How odd that her mind would not let it go. She had cheated him...
He was always the energetic storyteller and now, she was more than willing to listen. The thoughts of the stolen kiss had all but faded to the back of her mind and she tried her hardest to focus on what was being said....
And yet, Nirix couldn't help but wonder if it had any meaning at all. The kiss had just been a spur of the moment kind of thing. Wick was just going through many emotions at the time and....
"Da'len, you shock even me with what you get yourself into," Nirix sliced through her own thoughts and silenced the odd stirring within her heart. A smile crawled onto her lips yet it did not entirely reach her eyes. Nirix was listening but also not. She was failing at her own feelings and denied herself that truth even still.
"I've never heard of something such as that, though I do not recommend you attend such an event as that, ever again. It was obviously not good for you" She added a few words here and there when needed.
Nirix may have looked okay, sounded perfectly normal and well. But the truth was not so. Her mind kept traveling to the one moment in time, replaying it over and over again.
How odd that her mind would not let it go. She had cheated him...
The Perrygold
Ketin looked shocked - entirely taken aback by Nirix’s suggestion. He might have appeared to be offended, if not for the fact that it wa obviously virtually impossible to offend the Fox and everyone knew it.
”Are you kidding? That concert was awesome! They’re holding it again in a few months on Melialn 5 and I’m totally going~ It’s gonna be great! Hey, you two can come if you want. I’m sure Dirge and Hemorrhage would love to meet you~” He went on, swallowing one bit of sandworm and already skewering the next, waving it around a little on the end of the fork before popping it in his mouth. ”They’re really a lot nicer than they sound. And Horvath, Destroyer of Worlds is a total sweetheart~ but you didn’t hear that from me.”
A lull in the conversation followed as Kete finished the last of his food, then with an utter disregard for manners went about dragging his finger along the surface of the plate, and licking it clean. At least it was one step above actually licking the plate.
And a long moment passed, where the only sounds were the dull-roar of other patrons and the clinking of their glasses. Kete swirled his own drink idly, looking into it as if it were some crystal ball with all the answers - or just a particularly pretty shade of red-orange.
Then, with no prompting at all, he leaned in slightly toward Nirix and looked her in the eye, and smiled.
It was that warm, earnest, intimate smile, with the eyes that seemed soft and reassuring, as if they saw so much more than could ever be explained.
”You’re going to see him again, y’know.” He said simply, blinking in a friendly sort of way, and smiling that open, wholehearted smile of his. ”I can promise you that.”
And when he leaned back, the sound seemed to return to the cafe and life seemed to return to normal again. He stretched grandly and added, in a much lighter, detached tone ”I Never got the chance to put the moves on that cute sister of his. It’s going to have to be fixed, eventually.”
In an equally grand gesture, Kete tipped back and downed the remainder of his drink, then hopped to his feet, fished around in his pocket for a moment, removed a very large Standard bill, and left it on the table as an obscenely disproportionate tip for services rendered.
”Now, let’s go see if we can get a leg up on this situation.” He said, turning back to Arnado once h had reached the threshold between the cafe and the Perrygold hallway. ”So...Where do you think we should start looking for robot legs? Any ideas?”
Qetan Scout Ship
He remembered only belatedly the danger of aether-energy shields. To reach blindly over and unlatch the cage without so much as a second thought was the sort of profoundly dunderheaded thing he had done in a while...discounting that time that he severed his own right hand on a one-in-a-million gamble.
The cage opened - the ship reeled, the invisible mass roared to life as transparency melted away like water. But already sprawled out on the floor, Tsuan was unable to appreciate the imposing stance or ferocious features of the serpentine opponent. He was only barely able to keep clinging to his gun. He was a man of action at present - thought did not come into the equation.
The bird went launching from it’s prison, the lizard went soaring across the room with an ear-rattling screech, and Tsuan stared at the ceiling as if the meaning of life might be hidden there.
But only for a moment. Mind blank, he got unsteadily back to his feet, and clumsily shoved the pistol into his pants gangster-style for fear of missing the holster and dropping it.
The screeching, wailing, warcries and sounds of brutal combat raged in his ears as the man struggled to stay upright and keep the shadows from blacking out his vision completely. Beneath the sound was the roaring of blood in his ears, and the visceral lightheadedness and syrupy slow-motion of a bad dream.
Recalling the aether-shield business, Tsuan regarded the table before him wearily, then gave an imperceptible, unconscious shrug, thought ’@#$% it’ and proceeded to unceremoniously prod the table with his blackened, half-amputated right hand. Because, he figured, if there was something there to zap him, it would be better to zap the part of him that was already beyond help.
Whether or not a shield was present however, there was no time to make further progress before - much to his relief and slight confusion - Rai was there. He wasn’t quite sure where the Nyran had appeared from, but he was glad nonetheless - not that he showed it. Tsuan’s face was a mask of pain - an ugly grimace with teeth locked together and jaw muscles straining. He looked as though he had suffered a very grave injury - which was apt.
He only shook his head drunkenly at Rai’s offer for help. ”Frget it.” he croaked, intending to say more but being interrupted by a newcomer. A small wad of venom went sailing over his head to spatter impotently on the far wall, but he didn’t seem to notice. He just shifted his agonized grimace into an agonized grimace that was also full of distaste for the individual he was being forced to interact with. He looked impatient, too - as if he wanted very much for said individual to shut up-
”Would you shut- up-” He grunted, each word forced through gritted teeth. His good arm had wrapped around his abdomen to loosely clutch the crippled one to his side, keeping it from flopping about if he happened to stumble again. He glared daggers at the woman - and shot Rai a glance that would have looked a little mean too, if they hadn’t known any better. When he spoke next, the words were hurried - as if he knew he had a limited time and air-supply remaining to use on them. ”Listen to me. The people boarding this ship are going to kill everyone on sight that isn’t me or Rin without a second thought unless you shut the @#$% up, drop your weapon and surrender. These people are not @#$%ing around! They-” His words cut off with a choking grunt as the ragged, heavy breathing caught in his throat briefly and a spike of pain otherwise silenced him. He wanted to explain the ferocity of their weapons and the virtually indestructible mass that was Jackson, but he was rapidly losing consciousness, swaying where he stood and at last falling bodily into Rai, who would be forced to help prop the man up or else let him slump like a corpse over the table.
And then, not a moment too soon, the door to the lab burst open with a mighty, resounding crash as the shadow of Goliath loomed in to challenge the would-be David.
They were a machine. Relentless. Oiled - like the clockwork of death, taking the ship by storm in furious, systematic might. Jackson worked in perfect synchronicity with them, their minds seemingly linked by the hunter’s pack instinct. Had there been resistance, the walls would have been decorated with the spattering of lifeblood and the floors heaped with the corpses of their foes. There would have been crushed skulls and frozen limbs shattered like fine glass.
But with each new room they breached, each new hallway they traversed, they were met only with silence and emptiness. The ship seemed, for all intents and purposes, abandoned. The lights were on, but nobody was home. Ty was beginning to worry that their assault had been too slow to start, and they had already abandoned ship, either by means of an escape pod, or some strange technique as the one that had gotten them aboard the Koolest in the first place.
The latter seemed more likely, since as quickly as she could recover from the ridiculous maneuver, Dallen had proceeded with rocketing back around to pepper the enemy ship with point-defense-cannon rounds - a meager assault, but enough to keep any potential auto-defenses busy, and possibly entertain the enemy pilot if there was one.
It was that sleek, blue-silver ship that two intergalactic soldiers would witness performing just such an assault shortly after their arrival. It hurdled by with reckless speed, diving in much too close for comfort to the crippled vessel and spitting a few dozen high-velocity hull-piercing PDC rounds along the broad side, or underbelly before blasting back around to do it again. It was only after two of these rapid petty assaults that a transmission would come through to the newcomers - a husky female voice who sounded distracted, angry, and straight to the point.
”State names and intents or be fired on. Repeat. Names and intents or considered hostile.”
Inside, it was door after door, room after room - and it made a small ship seem very, very large indeed that they were continually met with no resistance.
But faintly, through the mostly soundproof walls and decking, they could hear it - the sounds of combat - of a scuffle - of some primal battle raging on beyond their wildest comprehension. So they pressed on.
And when it became clear that they had stormed every inch of the ship, they paused briefly. The only remaining course was to activate some kind of teleporter that looked like an elevator - which would undoubtedly take them to some hidden part of the ship inaccessible by the normal means.
But they certainly weren’t going to trust a teleporter on a hostile vessel. If they even could figure out how to use it, it might have had defense protocols that fried them instantly instead of teleporting them.
So they took two minutes to determine where the sounds of combat were coming from, lined up, and started shooting holes in the wall in an arching shape. In the hallway outside the lab, icy bullets abruptly began shooting through the wall, shattering into nothingness upon contacting the opposite side. Then there was a crash as Jackson pounded the wall in, making their own doorway where there had previously been only wall.
The final door was no obstacle. Jackson pummelled it down like cardboard and stepped through to block the doorframe with his massive girth, with Ty and Sands slipping past on either side. Their faces were all partially covered with the respirator masks, making them look all the more ominous.
It was all Tsuan could do in his delirium to shout with all his remaining might ”S. R.!” in a voice just barely loud enough to actually be heard by the breaching soldiers - for they would prove every bit as ruthless as he had warned.
Without seeming to exchange a single word - though in reality they were muttering into the respirator microphones to be heard by each other exclusively - Ty and Sands raised rifles and proceeded to absolutely riddle anything that moved - that being the Qetan woman and both familiars - with rounds that were so fine as to leave no visible mark upon the bodies of their targets, successful hits only recognizable by the way they jolted the body with their force.
Only Rai escaped being shredded due to his propping up Tsuan.
Anyone that wasn’t able to be immediately gunned down in cold blood would doubtless find Jackson’s overwhelming girth heaving down upon them.
It was over within several terrible heartbeats. In one ghastly moment, the intruders had come and torn asunder everything that Rai had been trying to keep together.
in the silence that followed - regardless of who had been apparently murdered, and who Jackson had either restrained or knocked unconscious - still the attackers wasted no time. Ty was standing before Tsuan and Rai without hesitation, demanding ”What’s the situation.” To which Tsuan, in his stupor, could only clumsily pat Rai atop the head and mutter ”Friend.”
For a very long moment, it all seemed to hang in stillness as Ty helped get Tsuan off Rai’s shoulders, stifling exclamations and demands as to the abhorrent condition of his comrade’s hand until later, and Sands moved first to check Rin’s pulse - then survey the others.
Anyone Jackson hadn’t been able to restrain or knock out, they had simply…killed. Just like that.
Even Shen -
Ketin looked shocked - entirely taken aback by Nirix’s suggestion. He might have appeared to be offended, if not for the fact that it wa obviously virtually impossible to offend the Fox and everyone knew it.
”Are you kidding? That concert was awesome! They’re holding it again in a few months on Melialn 5 and I’m totally going~ It’s gonna be great! Hey, you two can come if you want. I’m sure Dirge and Hemorrhage would love to meet you~” He went on, swallowing one bit of sandworm and already skewering the next, waving it around a little on the end of the fork before popping it in his mouth. ”They’re really a lot nicer than they sound. And Horvath, Destroyer of Worlds is a total sweetheart~ but you didn’t hear that from me.”
A lull in the conversation followed as Kete finished the last of his food, then with an utter disregard for manners went about dragging his finger along the surface of the plate, and licking it clean. At least it was one step above actually licking the plate.
And a long moment passed, where the only sounds were the dull-roar of other patrons and the clinking of their glasses. Kete swirled his own drink idly, looking into it as if it were some crystal ball with all the answers - or just a particularly pretty shade of red-orange.
Then, with no prompting at all, he leaned in slightly toward Nirix and looked her in the eye, and smiled.
It was that warm, earnest, intimate smile, with the eyes that seemed soft and reassuring, as if they saw so much more than could ever be explained.
”You’re going to see him again, y’know.” He said simply, blinking in a friendly sort of way, and smiling that open, wholehearted smile of his. ”I can promise you that.”
And when he leaned back, the sound seemed to return to the cafe and life seemed to return to normal again. He stretched grandly and added, in a much lighter, detached tone ”I Never got the chance to put the moves on that cute sister of his. It’s going to have to be fixed, eventually.”
In an equally grand gesture, Kete tipped back and downed the remainder of his drink, then hopped to his feet, fished around in his pocket for a moment, removed a very large Standard bill, and left it on the table as an obscenely disproportionate tip for services rendered.
”Now, let’s go see if we can get a leg up on this situation.” He said, turning back to Arnado once h had reached the threshold between the cafe and the Perrygold hallway. ”So...Where do you think we should start looking for robot legs? Any ideas?”
Qetan Scout Ship
He remembered only belatedly the danger of aether-energy shields. To reach blindly over and unlatch the cage without so much as a second thought was the sort of profoundly dunderheaded thing he had done in a while...discounting that time that he severed his own right hand on a one-in-a-million gamble.
The cage opened - the ship reeled, the invisible mass roared to life as transparency melted away like water. But already sprawled out on the floor, Tsuan was unable to appreciate the imposing stance or ferocious features of the serpentine opponent. He was only barely able to keep clinging to his gun. He was a man of action at present - thought did not come into the equation.
The bird went launching from it’s prison, the lizard went soaring across the room with an ear-rattling screech, and Tsuan stared at the ceiling as if the meaning of life might be hidden there.
But only for a moment. Mind blank, he got unsteadily back to his feet, and clumsily shoved the pistol into his pants gangster-style for fear of missing the holster and dropping it.
The screeching, wailing, warcries and sounds of brutal combat raged in his ears as the man struggled to stay upright and keep the shadows from blacking out his vision completely. Beneath the sound was the roaring of blood in his ears, and the visceral lightheadedness and syrupy slow-motion of a bad dream.
Recalling the aether-shield business, Tsuan regarded the table before him wearily, then gave an imperceptible, unconscious shrug, thought ’@#$% it’ and proceeded to unceremoniously prod the table with his blackened, half-amputated right hand. Because, he figured, if there was something there to zap him, it would be better to zap the part of him that was already beyond help.
Whether or not a shield was present however, there was no time to make further progress before - much to his relief and slight confusion - Rai was there. He wasn’t quite sure where the Nyran had appeared from, but he was glad nonetheless - not that he showed it. Tsuan’s face was a mask of pain - an ugly grimace with teeth locked together and jaw muscles straining. He looked as though he had suffered a very grave injury - which was apt.
He only shook his head drunkenly at Rai’s offer for help. ”Frget it.” he croaked, intending to say more but being interrupted by a newcomer. A small wad of venom went sailing over his head to spatter impotently on the far wall, but he didn’t seem to notice. He just shifted his agonized grimace into an agonized grimace that was also full of distaste for the individual he was being forced to interact with. He looked impatient, too - as if he wanted very much for said individual to shut up-
”Would you shut- up-” He grunted, each word forced through gritted teeth. His good arm had wrapped around his abdomen to loosely clutch the crippled one to his side, keeping it from flopping about if he happened to stumble again. He glared daggers at the woman - and shot Rai a glance that would have looked a little mean too, if they hadn’t known any better. When he spoke next, the words were hurried - as if he knew he had a limited time and air-supply remaining to use on them. ”Listen to me. The people boarding this ship are going to kill everyone on sight that isn’t me or Rin without a second thought unless you shut the @#$% up, drop your weapon and surrender. These people are not @#$%ing around! They-” His words cut off with a choking grunt as the ragged, heavy breathing caught in his throat briefly and a spike of pain otherwise silenced him. He wanted to explain the ferocity of their weapons and the virtually indestructible mass that was Jackson, but he was rapidly losing consciousness, swaying where he stood and at last falling bodily into Rai, who would be forced to help prop the man up or else let him slump like a corpse over the table.
And then, not a moment too soon, the door to the lab burst open with a mighty, resounding crash as the shadow of Goliath loomed in to challenge the would-be David.
They were a machine. Relentless. Oiled - like the clockwork of death, taking the ship by storm in furious, systematic might. Jackson worked in perfect synchronicity with them, their minds seemingly linked by the hunter’s pack instinct. Had there been resistance, the walls would have been decorated with the spattering of lifeblood and the floors heaped with the corpses of their foes. There would have been crushed skulls and frozen limbs shattered like fine glass.
But with each new room they breached, each new hallway they traversed, they were met only with silence and emptiness. The ship seemed, for all intents and purposes, abandoned. The lights were on, but nobody was home. Ty was beginning to worry that their assault had been too slow to start, and they had already abandoned ship, either by means of an escape pod, or some strange technique as the one that had gotten them aboard the Koolest in the first place.
The latter seemed more likely, since as quickly as she could recover from the ridiculous maneuver, Dallen had proceeded with rocketing back around to pepper the enemy ship with point-defense-cannon rounds - a meager assault, but enough to keep any potential auto-defenses busy, and possibly entertain the enemy pilot if there was one.
It was that sleek, blue-silver ship that two intergalactic soldiers would witness performing just such an assault shortly after their arrival. It hurdled by with reckless speed, diving in much too close for comfort to the crippled vessel and spitting a few dozen high-velocity hull-piercing PDC rounds along the broad side, or underbelly before blasting back around to do it again. It was only after two of these rapid petty assaults that a transmission would come through to the newcomers - a husky female voice who sounded distracted, angry, and straight to the point.
”State names and intents or be fired on. Repeat. Names and intents or considered hostile.”
Inside, it was door after door, room after room - and it made a small ship seem very, very large indeed that they were continually met with no resistance.
But faintly, through the mostly soundproof walls and decking, they could hear it - the sounds of combat - of a scuffle - of some primal battle raging on beyond their wildest comprehension. So they pressed on.
And when it became clear that they had stormed every inch of the ship, they paused briefly. The only remaining course was to activate some kind of teleporter that looked like an elevator - which would undoubtedly take them to some hidden part of the ship inaccessible by the normal means.
But they certainly weren’t going to trust a teleporter on a hostile vessel. If they even could figure out how to use it, it might have had defense protocols that fried them instantly instead of teleporting them.
So they took two minutes to determine where the sounds of combat were coming from, lined up, and started shooting holes in the wall in an arching shape. In the hallway outside the lab, icy bullets abruptly began shooting through the wall, shattering into nothingness upon contacting the opposite side. Then there was a crash as Jackson pounded the wall in, making their own doorway where there had previously been only wall.
The final door was no obstacle. Jackson pummelled it down like cardboard and stepped through to block the doorframe with his massive girth, with Ty and Sands slipping past on either side. Their faces were all partially covered with the respirator masks, making them look all the more ominous.
It was all Tsuan could do in his delirium to shout with all his remaining might ”S. R.!” in a voice just barely loud enough to actually be heard by the breaching soldiers - for they would prove every bit as ruthless as he had warned.
Without seeming to exchange a single word - though in reality they were muttering into the respirator microphones to be heard by each other exclusively - Ty and Sands raised rifles and proceeded to absolutely riddle anything that moved - that being the Qetan woman and both familiars - with rounds that were so fine as to leave no visible mark upon the bodies of their targets, successful hits only recognizable by the way they jolted the body with their force.
Only Rai escaped being shredded due to his propping up Tsuan.
Anyone that wasn’t able to be immediately gunned down in cold blood would doubtless find Jackson’s overwhelming girth heaving down upon them.
It was over within several terrible heartbeats. In one ghastly moment, the intruders had come and torn asunder everything that Rai had been trying to keep together.
in the silence that followed - regardless of who had been apparently murdered, and who Jackson had either restrained or knocked unconscious - still the attackers wasted no time. Ty was standing before Tsuan and Rai without hesitation, demanding ”What’s the situation.” To which Tsuan, in his stupor, could only clumsily pat Rai atop the head and mutter ”Friend.”
For a very long moment, it all seemed to hang in stillness as Ty helped get Tsuan off Rai’s shoulders, stifling exclamations and demands as to the abhorrent condition of his comrade’s hand until later, and Sands moved first to check Rin’s pulse - then survey the others.
Anyone Jackson hadn’t been able to restrain or knock out, they had simply…killed. Just like that.
Even Shen -
who had taken at least two of the deadly rounds to the chest and wings.
Except…
Sands was there next, kneeling over the bird, checking the pulse and meeting Rai’s doubtless traumatized eyes. ”Stun rounds.” He said simply, ”Comatose for an hour or two, then fine. Tsuan saved your friend’s life.”
Tsuan himself had at last lost consciousness entirely, and Ty was seeing to the matter, depending on how Jackson had occupied himself - either restraining Tahil, or her lizard, or some other manner of post-battle maintenance.
”Targets secure, Dal.” Sands said, obviously speaking to their pilot. ”We’ll give you the all-clear once we’ve captured the boat.”
Ty was speaking to Rai. ”What’s the situation here? Fill us in. Any more hostiles on the ship?”
Except…
Sands was there next, kneeling over the bird, checking the pulse and meeting Rai’s doubtless traumatized eyes. ”Stun rounds.” He said simply, ”Comatose for an hour or two, then fine. Tsuan saved your friend’s life.”
Tsuan himself had at last lost consciousness entirely, and Ty was seeing to the matter, depending on how Jackson had occupied himself - either restraining Tahil, or her lizard, or some other manner of post-battle maintenance.
”Targets secure, Dal.” Sands said, obviously speaking to their pilot. ”We’ll give you the all-clear once we’ve captured the boat.”
Ty was speaking to Rai. ”What’s the situation here? Fill us in. Any more hostiles on the ship?”
It felt like an eternity had passed as Asya rolled out of bed. Ignoring her bodies aching protest that she needed more rest, she gets out of bed. Picking up the visor from her armor, she peers inside to check the time. Twelve hours. Asya had slept for nearly half a day. She hears a message begin playing as she sets down her visor. It advised her to come to the bridge after she had awoken and included detailed instruction on How to get there. Suiting back up, Asya decides against putting her hair up, opting to simply comb it with her fingers for lack of a hairbrush. The same couldn't be said for her armor. It would need a complete tear down to ever be presentable again.
Following the directions she had been given, Asya makes her way through the ship. Noting how high tech it was, she wondered where it had been manufactured as it didn't conform to any notable civilian or naval shipyard design styles known to her. It was fairly opposite to the cramped utilitarian feeling of Niven ships as well, which was a welcome change. She would have to ask about it later. But first she had been summoned then afterwards she would check on her unit. She assumed Jack would still be asleep, though she would directly check on Jin in medbay. Arriving at the bridge, she clears her throat before speaking "Asya Żuraw reporting to the bridge as requested."
Following the directions she had been given, Asya makes her way through the ship. Noting how high tech it was, she wondered where it had been manufactured as it didn't conform to any notable civilian or naval shipyard design styles known to her. It was fairly opposite to the cramped utilitarian feeling of Niven ships as well, which was a welcome change. She would have to ask about it later. But first she had been summoned then afterwards she would check on her unit. She assumed Jack would still be asleep, though she would directly check on Jin in medbay. Arriving at the bridge, she clears her throat before speaking "Asya Żuraw reporting to the bridge as requested."
"Its like the universe just shit out the contents of the InterGalactic-nonhuman encyclopedia into one bar!" Jacobo sputtreed out of his mouth, inching closer to the Detective, feeling more comfortable with him than with the menagerie of space kooks that had washed up on Jacobo's beach of thought and sight.
A sudden blip from Jacobo's holo-tablet, which he had bought about 30 minutes ago at the port, had startled the insectoid. In this situation his wings would've fluttered, but since he had no wings, and only stumps, he merely made a weird thumping noise against his shell. He took a look at the tablet, seeing a recent message, and was once again infuriated by the fact that he could not operate the tablet. Taking a quick look at the new mammalian bar attendees, and feeling a bit anxious about asking the Detective to help, Jacobo had chosen to, once again, to scuttle across the counter. He scratched his way towards the furry creatures at speeds that would rival the average human walk, and took grasp of the nearest ones ear. Using that bit of heat, he bopped the creature with the tablet on the head, opening the message. This message was a running list of current teammates.
"Sorry about that" chattered Jacobo, running, not scuttling, on the ground, after jumping off the counter and holding the tablet over his head triumphantly, towards the lizard and the Detective. He felt the most acquainted with these two, as if they were long lost fishing buddies.
A sudden blip from Jacobo's holo-tablet, which he had bought about 30 minutes ago at the port, had startled the insectoid. In this situation his wings would've fluttered, but since he had no wings, and only stumps, he merely made a weird thumping noise against his shell. He took a look at the tablet, seeing a recent message, and was once again infuriated by the fact that he could not operate the tablet. Taking a quick look at the new mammalian bar attendees, and feeling a bit anxious about asking the Detective to help, Jacobo had chosen to, once again, to scuttle across the counter. He scratched his way towards the furry creatures at speeds that would rival the average human walk, and took grasp of the nearest ones ear. Using that bit of heat, he bopped the creature with the tablet on the head, opening the message. This message was a running list of current teammates.
"Sorry about that" chattered Jacobo, running, not scuttling, on the ground, after jumping off the counter and holding the tablet over his head triumphantly, towards the lizard and the Detective. He felt the most acquainted with these two, as if they were long lost fishing buddies.
//"FRAME SHIFT DRIVE CHARGING."// The computer sounded off after Major Zuraw made herself known. Which was hardly necessary, as Kovacs had been tracking her progress since she had woken up.
"I suggest that you take a seat, Major," he motioned towards the nav station to his left, the chair swiveling to accept the newcomer. Regardless of whether or not Asya took the invitation, the vessel shot forward ten seconds later, the canopy revealing the colorful maelstrom of light and nebulous clouds that was Witchspace.
Upon reversion to supercruise, the White Death leveled out into a stable orbit around the red dwarf of the new system. "I have a proposition for you, should you choose to accept," Kovacs hit a key, activating the wall locker containing the Major's version of his suit. "That is your new utility uniform slash flight suit slash battle armor. It's yours, as well as becoming a pilot for the F63 Condor starfighter.
"You will be granted access to the flight simulator, and upon certification with the craft, you will be given a snub to fly in," Kovacs returned to his console, pulling the corvette away from the star towards the system's populated sector.
"I suggest that you take a seat, Major," he motioned towards the nav station to his left, the chair swiveling to accept the newcomer. Regardless of whether or not Asya took the invitation, the vessel shot forward ten seconds later, the canopy revealing the colorful maelstrom of light and nebulous clouds that was Witchspace.
Upon reversion to supercruise, the White Death leveled out into a stable orbit around the red dwarf of the new system. "I have a proposition for you, should you choose to accept," Kovacs hit a key, activating the wall locker containing the Major's version of his suit. "That is your new utility uniform slash flight suit slash battle armor. It's yours, as well as becoming a pilot for the F63 Condor starfighter.
"You will be granted access to the flight simulator, and upon certification with the craft, you will be given a snub to fly in," Kovacs returned to his console, pulling the corvette away from the star towards the system's populated sector.
”State names and intents or be fired on. Repeat. Names and intents or considered hostile.”
Vaxur shared a side glance with Commander Wyr, then waved a hand at the console. "Your call, boss."
It was said in a way that seemed lazy, eyes hooded and arm slumped- but he set his hands on the ship controls and suddenly his fingers were rigid, his stance was straight, and his eyes glowed brighter as they narrowed.
He would be ready for anything- supporter or betrayer- it didn't matter. Nothing mattered, except for their wayward teammate.
He saw her pause, then lean over to reply.
"This is Commander Wyr and Sergeant Vaxur Aksen of EGS-2."
Her voice double in tone, like two people talking at the exact same time, one as high-pitched as a young girl's and the other low pitched like a mature woman's rattled his ears. She was high-strung, too.
"We are here on a search-and-rescue mission for Cadet Rin Rahila al-Najm. State your reason for firing upon a vessel containing one of my team, over."
He reached over and patted her arm. She relaxed, the coils of her fingers unraveling slightly from their sword formation. He nudged his own sniper rifle with his foot to assure himself that it was still within reach. "I repeat, state your reason for attack and if you know Cadet Rin Rahila al-Najm."
Vaxur shared a side glance with Commander Wyr, then waved a hand at the console. "Your call, boss."
It was said in a way that seemed lazy, eyes hooded and arm slumped- but he set his hands on the ship controls and suddenly his fingers were rigid, his stance was straight, and his eyes glowed brighter as they narrowed.
He would be ready for anything- supporter or betrayer- it didn't matter. Nothing mattered, except for their wayward teammate.
He saw her pause, then lean over to reply.
"This is Commander Wyr and Sergeant Vaxur Aksen of EGS-2."
Her voice double in tone, like two people talking at the exact same time, one as high-pitched as a young girl's and the other low pitched like a mature woman's rattled his ears. She was high-strung, too.
"We are here on a search-and-rescue mission for Cadet Rin Rahila al-Najm. State your reason for firing upon a vessel containing one of my team, over."
He reached over and patted her arm. She relaxed, the coils of her fingers unraveling slightly from their sword formation. He nudged his own sniper rifle with his foot to assure himself that it was still within reach. "I repeat, state your reason for attack and if you know Cadet Rin Rahila al-Najm."
At first, Rai wasn't able to absorb anything Ty said. They was still dizzy, struggling to stand without a severe sway in their posture. Eyes locked on the unconsious form of Shen, they then groaned, closing their eyes and rubbing their head.
The bond had wavered in the midst of a last-second attempt at communication, a warning to get out of the way- which had let to a wave of fatigue that flowed through to Rai before they forcibly made their bond dormant.
They shook their head, squinting at the man helping and holding on to Tsuan; from the corner of their eye they saw Tahil slump with dazed eyes, too weak to resist a large, muscled man holding her captive. It was evident that she, too, tried to warn her familiar- and payed for it in strength. "Situation...?" Their voice was strangely subdued- especially to someone who was used to their usually talkative manner of speaking. "The Qetans have been captured. Have to... convince them. What's wrong..."
They sighed. Not in the best state to explain... anything, really. "Only two. Don't... kill them. My responsibility." They twitched- then jolted, stumbling forward as they staggered to the front of the ship, where-
Where Reqti was, standing tall, staff lowered in a non-threatening way. Helmet off. Eyes unreadable- which flashed with something when Rai appeared, holding themself up only by a trembling arm braced against a wall.
"Reqti," they whispered, lids fluttering furiously, forcing themself to stay awake.
He paused. Face still fixed in an emotionless mask, he went over to them, steps silent, until he was right in front of them. Not looking at anyone else, he held out his arm.
Rai reached out and clutched at dark cloth, a soft breath of relief escaping. Reqti's flashed with that unknown emotion again. They didn't notice. "Surrender," they said, voice cracking.
He looked at the hand on his arm for a long moment. He looked up at Tahil, at Laith, then back down, at the pale green braid over Rai's shoulder.
He bowed his head. It was as close to a yes as he could manage.
The bond had wavered in the midst of a last-second attempt at communication, a warning to get out of the way- which had let to a wave of fatigue that flowed through to Rai before they forcibly made their bond dormant.
They shook their head, squinting at the man helping and holding on to Tsuan; from the corner of their eye they saw Tahil slump with dazed eyes, too weak to resist a large, muscled man holding her captive. It was evident that she, too, tried to warn her familiar- and payed for it in strength. "Situation...?" Their voice was strangely subdued- especially to someone who was used to their usually talkative manner of speaking. "The Qetans have been captured. Have to... convince them. What's wrong..."
They sighed. Not in the best state to explain... anything, really. "Only two. Don't... kill them. My responsibility." They twitched- then jolted, stumbling forward as they staggered to the front of the ship, where-
Where Reqti was, standing tall, staff lowered in a non-threatening way. Helmet off. Eyes unreadable- which flashed with something when Rai appeared, holding themself up only by a trembling arm braced against a wall.
"Reqti," they whispered, lids fluttering furiously, forcing themself to stay awake.
He paused. Face still fixed in an emotionless mask, he went over to them, steps silent, until he was right in front of them. Not looking at anyone else, he held out his arm.
Rai reached out and clutched at dark cloth, a soft breath of relief escaping. Reqti's flashed with that unknown emotion again. They didn't notice. "Surrender," they said, voice cracking.
He looked at the hand on his arm for a long moment. He looked up at Tahil, at Laith, then back down, at the pale green braid over Rai's shoulder.
He bowed his head. It was as close to a yes as he could manage.
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