"POLICE? ARE YOU @#$%ING CRAZY? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY WARRANTS I AM WANTED FOR? LIKE 2!"screamed Ringo in a hushed tone, looking around to see if anyone heard him, whilst trying to grab the amorphous creature. "What we need to do is lay low, and kill the guy; no loose ends, we'll skip town after that, living off of whatever money this sweet little honeypot can provide..", Ringo began to physically salivate towards the end of his little rant, forgetting that the bike man and the unidentified creature even existed. Giving the box a hug only a terminally-ill mother could give, Ringo looked around once more and then focused on the creature. "Before we do this whole ditch town thing, I've got to learn your name, son. I'll start off, I'm Ringo Rodriguez, the best $%&#in space cowboy around *holographic tumbleweed flies by*, and yours would b.." and before Ringo could finish his sentence, three men clad in normal clothes with mighty baseball bats had walked onto the scene.
"Heard you beat up my boy here *pointing towards bike man*, and stole OUR property, and we've come here to #$%& you up!"
Really? Thought Ringo as he tried running away screaming it was the creature fault, box under poncho. He got a total of 15 feet before getting his foot stuck in the concrete and falling face first. "AGH HOOAGHAHGHA, ALL ACCORDING TO PLAN" screamed Ringo, shifting to face the thugs, and drawing his pistol. Ringo's battlecry was anything but intimidating, and all it did was make the thugs crack up. That was until Ringo shot one in the kidney...on purpose...totally.
"GOO MAN, WANT TO HELP SOME MORE? IF YOU DO, I MIGHT GIVE YOU 15% OF THE MONEY FROM SELLING THIS BOX!"
"You sent lowly Debtors? Really Ray? I mean we can stand to lose Jklan, jackass, but you've got to send better guys to pick up something that valuable, your uncle should've taught you this."
"Heard you beat up my boy here *pointing towards bike man*, and stole OUR property, and we've come here to #$%& you up!"
Really? Thought Ringo as he tried running away screaming it was the creature fault, box under poncho. He got a total of 15 feet before getting his foot stuck in the concrete and falling face first. "AGH HOOAGHAHGHA, ALL ACCORDING TO PLAN" screamed Ringo, shifting to face the thugs, and drawing his pistol. Ringo's battlecry was anything but intimidating, and all it did was make the thugs crack up. That was until Ringo shot one in the kidney...on purpose...totally.
"GOO MAN, WANT TO HELP SOME MORE? IF YOU DO, I MIGHT GIVE YOU 15% OF THE MONEY FROM SELLING THIS BOX!"
"You sent lowly Debtors? Really Ray? I mean we can stand to lose Jklan, jackass, but you've got to send better guys to pick up something that valuable, your uncle should've taught you this."
The Kingsbane
It did not matter that an apparent state of emergency had been issued. It did not matter that everyone was freaking out and going nuts over that little black spot on the beautiful, dot-spattered wall. The fact that there were so many people, all running around and doing things - that was enough for her.
She was, of course, still put on edge by it. By everything, really. The whole ordeal was not becoming any less stressful or harrowing any time soon.
But she was not overwhelmed by the chaos. She had no desire to get any further out of their way than she already was. She did not want to follow the sullen ones that were leaving for whatever reason - she wanted to stay there, where the wrinkly man was.
It had occurred to her in a swell of delight some moments prior why - most likely - he had dragged her over here when clearly nobody had anything to do or say to her. Indeed, probably she was just getting sentimental again - always a terrible trap she walked into again and again - but she wondered if maybe he just did not want to let her out of his sight.
He had been happy to see her when she reappeared. He had wept when she lay dead on the floor. He was no guard, intent on keeping her confined, nor was he a Bird, demanding things of her. She wasn’t sure what he was, but she liked him. She felt safe around him.
It was the white one that was a Bird. A White Bird, since clearly there would be no Red ones here. And as much as she dreaded and feared that White Bird, her loyalty would not be swayed.
She tried to remember more about them - the heretical Users of Tools - but found her memory fuzzy. This was no surprise. Visions of the distant past came only in fleeting, vague glimpses - and at that, it was a world which she could barely comprehend, now. There was so much she couldn’t remember - and if the memories did lay in waiting deep within her being, she knew not when they would rise to the surface.
Perhaps, she decided, it would be best not to think back.
It was more interesting to watch the people doing things anyway. Comparisons could be drawn, but she had already seen that learning new things was going to become a regular part of her existence now, and what she saw going forward was infinitely more important than what she remembered going back...
It took her a moment to adjust when the angry person approached her. She blinked rapidly, leaning back wide-eyed as they looked down at her, fuming. Almost as if a bug had landed on her nose and she was trying to avoid getting stung.
What did they want?
She was scared, of course - but she had known real terror. The White Bird was terror. This was just an angry person. And yes, they were angry at her, but they weren’t going to kill her.
She assumed.
It took them gesturing wildly for her to finally realize that they wanted the chair. Understanding dawned over her, and she stumbled off the chair to back away as if they were a weird, crazy person with a knife, hands up just a little in surrender.
Once they had the chair back, she was once again ignored.
Well, that was fine. Glancing around, she found a better place to stand - right by the doors - and went there, and stood with back against the wall, leaning on it a little.
She could have left, the. Could have retreated to the quietude and peace of the place she was becoming pretty sure was called Research Center. It was nice there.
But it seemed to her that with the commotion, almost everyone was up here, in this room. She did not like the room very much - but probably ’Research Center’ would have nobody in it.
Much more than not wanting to be in the way, than not wanting to be in the presence of the Bird - she didn’t want to be alone. She didn’t want to be alone ever again.
So she stood there. Pressed up against the wall beside the door, she would be in nobody’s way. Those stationed near the door might be irritated at her presence, but she was oblivious to that if it was the case.
And gradually, things started to settle down. There were less people. It was quieter. And-
the instant that the wrinkly man looked at her, she was looking back. It was as if he had gotten her attention with a mere glance. It was almost uncanny.
He was beckoning to her in the gesture that meant ’come’ and smiling reassuringly. She looked at him in a brief, uncomprehending stupor as if saying ’Are you insane?!’. The White one was furious! Probably not at her, she figured - but he did keep glancing over her shoulder at him, and she kept pointedly avoiding his gaze each time.
After a moment, her expression turned to uncertainty, looking out from the feathery white-blonde hair as if saying ’Are...are you sure?’
Then at last, she glanced around, and walked toward him, arms glued to her sides and hands hooked in pockets as if to make herself that much smaller. Reaching them, she took her place standing behind the old man, keeping him between her and the Bird. And, of course, she was standing too close for comfort as usual.
It did not matter that an apparent state of emergency had been issued. It did not matter that everyone was freaking out and going nuts over that little black spot on the beautiful, dot-spattered wall. The fact that there were so many people, all running around and doing things - that was enough for her.
She was, of course, still put on edge by it. By everything, really. The whole ordeal was not becoming any less stressful or harrowing any time soon.
But she was not overwhelmed by the chaos. She had no desire to get any further out of their way than she already was. She did not want to follow the sullen ones that were leaving for whatever reason - she wanted to stay there, where the wrinkly man was.
It had occurred to her in a swell of delight some moments prior why - most likely - he had dragged her over here when clearly nobody had anything to do or say to her. Indeed, probably she was just getting sentimental again - always a terrible trap she walked into again and again - but she wondered if maybe he just did not want to let her out of his sight.
He had been happy to see her when she reappeared. He had wept when she lay dead on the floor. He was no guard, intent on keeping her confined, nor was he a Bird, demanding things of her. She wasn’t sure what he was, but she liked him. She felt safe around him.
It was the white one that was a Bird. A White Bird, since clearly there would be no Red ones here. And as much as she dreaded and feared that White Bird, her loyalty would not be swayed.
She tried to remember more about them - the heretical Users of Tools - but found her memory fuzzy. This was no surprise. Visions of the distant past came only in fleeting, vague glimpses - and at that, it was a world which she could barely comprehend, now. There was so much she couldn’t remember - and if the memories did lay in waiting deep within her being, she knew not when they would rise to the surface.
Perhaps, she decided, it would be best not to think back.
It was more interesting to watch the people doing things anyway. Comparisons could be drawn, but she had already seen that learning new things was going to become a regular part of her existence now, and what she saw going forward was infinitely more important than what she remembered going back...
It took her a moment to adjust when the angry person approached her. She blinked rapidly, leaning back wide-eyed as they looked down at her, fuming. Almost as if a bug had landed on her nose and she was trying to avoid getting stung.
What did they want?
She was scared, of course - but she had known real terror. The White Bird was terror. This was just an angry person. And yes, they were angry at her, but they weren’t going to kill her.
She assumed.
It took them gesturing wildly for her to finally realize that they wanted the chair. Understanding dawned over her, and she stumbled off the chair to back away as if they were a weird, crazy person with a knife, hands up just a little in surrender.
Once they had the chair back, she was once again ignored.
Well, that was fine. Glancing around, she found a better place to stand - right by the doors - and went there, and stood with back against the wall, leaning on it a little.
She could have left, the. Could have retreated to the quietude and peace of the place she was becoming pretty sure was called Research Center. It was nice there.
But it seemed to her that with the commotion, almost everyone was up here, in this room. She did not like the room very much - but probably ’Research Center’ would have nobody in it.
Much more than not wanting to be in the way, than not wanting to be in the presence of the Bird - she didn’t want to be alone. She didn’t want to be alone ever again.
So she stood there. Pressed up against the wall beside the door, she would be in nobody’s way. Those stationed near the door might be irritated at her presence, but she was oblivious to that if it was the case.
And gradually, things started to settle down. There were less people. It was quieter. And-
the instant that the wrinkly man looked at her, she was looking back. It was as if he had gotten her attention with a mere glance. It was almost uncanny.
He was beckoning to her in the gesture that meant ’come’ and smiling reassuringly. She looked at him in a brief, uncomprehending stupor as if saying ’Are you insane?!’. The White one was furious! Probably not at her, she figured - but he did keep glancing over her shoulder at him, and she kept pointedly avoiding his gaze each time.
After a moment, her expression turned to uncertainty, looking out from the feathery white-blonde hair as if saying ’Are...are you sure?’
Then at last, she glanced around, and walked toward him, arms glued to her sides and hands hooked in pockets as if to make herself that much smaller. Reaching them, she took her place standing behind the old man, keeping him between her and the Bird. And, of course, she was standing too close for comfort as usual.
"Keep these two locked up? ON IT!" shouted Jet, still a bit jumpy. He grabbed both of them under his arms and made out like a bandit, to the closet. He threw them in, shut the door, and sat outside of it. Remembering the times where his sister would do the same to him, he assumed the ultimate door defense position, legs wide open, heels on the ground, and arms gripping the door frame. No matter what, they would not get out, at least through the door. It'd probably be easier to bust down the wall, rather than try to go through the conventional way.
"And now what?" asked Jet. Like a child off of a sugar high, he wanted more. More action, more busting through doors, and most importantly, more instances where he is useful.
"And now what?" asked Jet. Like a child off of a sugar high, he wanted more. More action, more busting through doors, and most importantly, more instances where he is useful.
Haleon had his doubts, a brow lifting at Talis' comment of a very good man followed not too soon after by the fact that she would be the one to add the poison instead. A frown taking over his features, ears flattened.
"Not trusting you then. You look like a witch afterall." A bad kind of witch, the one he did not trust. Nice try, he was still not drinking. Tail gave a light agitated swish, moving the feathers a little as it did.
He hated her.
But then again, Haleon hated everyone that was not of his species, and even some that were of his own species. Go figure. Not a hard task to accomplish such position in his mind.
He'd keep a tab on the woman, ever so sour expression remaining as the detective was then the one who had his attention. Sure. Drink your drink, he'd watch how you squirm and die, and there was no healing coming his way.
Only that the man did not start wincing in agony. Nothing happened.
Strange...
And the acts spoke of sincerity, no lies to be caught there... Still not fully trusting him, but he gave the man the beneficial side of doubt.
"Hrm. This once. But I do not like those that just toy around." Dismissing the others for that moment - or at least stopping his staring contest - Haleon turned to the drinks, picked one up and with a careful sniff taken first took a sip, making his own judgements of the substance. "The taste seems to be tainted."
"Leo, be a little more polite." There would be a little interruption by Siro, who scolds her fellow specimen and tries to smile in apology to the bartender, woman and man who paid for the drinks. "It's just probably the ingredient that outsider merchants like added in their drinks. I think they call it alcohol."
"That thing could kill you. Never understood quite why they keep drinking it, it numbs their senses and makes them do stupid things." Frowning at the suggestion, glass being stared at.
"I dunno, maybe it's a gamble of some sort." Siro stayed optimistic.
"Gambling is bad." As optimistic as one could at least, with someone as negative and closed as Haleon on the other side of the argument. Best to just shrug it off.
Siro was all too fine on sitting still and inspecting the surroundings from there, not minding most things and keeping a positive mind on everything. The unordinarily big cockroach... Insectoid... Jacobo, that one, it brought up some nervousness in her as they approached, but she'd try and keep smiling nevertheless. The grab on the ear was taken as 'maybe it's some form of greeting they have?' and so she was more open minded even if it felt very strange.
"Ummm, hello~ Can I help you with som-!" Friendliness was put to a halt as the tablet was smacked against her head. A smaller creature, one wouldn't expect there to be much force behind it, but this was an insect we were talking about, and insects? Those things could easily lift things multiple times their size and weight, so there was a surprising amount of strength behind it.
There goes the will to talk for a moment, stopped by a quickly increasing headache as the impact had caused it. Siro had clenched her hand and fingers tight as it was all happening, the sharpness of claws causing for some light stripes on the bar counter's surface, likely to blend in with the others, but a sad frown attempted to be hid behind that arm that lifted onto her head to hold the hurting spot were more noticeable. Markings on her backwards turned ears flickered ever so weakly like broken Christmas lights.
".... It's ok...." Spoken quietly in return to the apology, Jacobo already making his way back away. That really hurt. Bad first impressions to get out of strangers, she didn't know what to think of it.
Haleon on the other hand Did know what to think of it, expressing his thoughts rather clearly, fangs exposed and all as he snarled and glared at the insectoid.
"Get back here!" Growling after the critter, odd tasting drink pushed to the side while he wanted to absolutely savage the insectoid. No good ever came of outsiders. Never.
To their luck, he'd be stopped by the one holding her head.
"No, it's ok... We should be giving everyone a chance..." They were peaceful creatures - at least that should be their default.
"Mrrrr.... ... Ok... But next time I'll do what I want." Gesturing towards it being their lucky day. No bar fights. "Stay still." Leaving the insectoid and letting them go, Haleon would be focusing his attention on the expanding headache that was pestering the other Modral. Healer as he was, putting most of his life into it, fixing such small things was nothing - although he kept his magic to a minimum. A mere presence was enough to have a healing effect, and he quite frankly did Not feel like sharing at the moment. "Just be a bit more careful, ok?" Genuinely caring towards his own, even if he liked to give a cold shoulder to the others. Siro's only response being a quite nod, though for how long the agreement lasted? Who knows.
Solki, on the meanwhile, just let out a loud sharp yawn, having not noticed much of the action, laying down on his own little isle that was the couch. Haleon raising his voice happened so often, that it did not concern him the least bit.
He'd, however, pounce right up when the competition was mentioned. Competition, contest, tomato, potato whatever.
A Contest.
"Me! Me!!!" Hand rose up to sign that he was interested. Well, if something offered him free money? Damn right he was in! .... Was he forgetting something? Oh, right. "I mean, Us of course~" Patching up his sentence, he didn't want to be surrounded by a bunch of strangers.
"That is so cliche... And you know it." Another scolding from Siro, although she could not help but to take some of that excitement that came with all the packed energy that was Solki. Solki who faked innocence and looked away to avert eye contact.
"I mean... It'd be a good way to show others what we are capable of you know?" Taking a little different approach to the matter. "Wouldn't hurt, right~?" Giving a stupidly wide grin as head was tilted, motioning towards the other two canids with that generic 'eeh eeeh???' type of sound.
"No. To be honest, that sounds pretty darn bad." Surprise to none, Haleon declined. "Why would you want for anyone to know of us? You'll give us a bad reputation and directing attention towards us is Bad." He was strictly going to keep his foot down on that one.
"Blah blah, you always say that. Like you're a bear that someone shot on the butt. Now let me see about those things, I'm signing that ****." Waving his hand about, uncaring, the pale one hopped up and off the couch, making his way to whomever currently possessed the tablet.
Someone just rustled Haleon's jimmies, big time.
"You're Not signing Anything!" Volume was upped as he got up from his chair, fangs still showing, a couple wrinkles upon his muzzle.
"Tough luck. You're too late, I already did. Now come on, let's get going!" Not so much as out of arrogance, but out of the fact that Haleon was always against Everything. Things would get boring quick if he just complied and never did anything. He didn't fear no angry man~
And angry that man was.
"I hate This!!! And I hate you!" No surprises there either, frustrated, not having many words to choose from, foot tapped against the floor rapidly, aggravated.
"Oh come on, it can't be That bad." Trying to smile a little again, Siro took to defending Solki, having taken in some of his excitement and cheered up from it.
This all earned her a look from Haleon, one that spoke without making sounds. 'I heal you, and this is how you pay me?'
"I hate the both of you." Uh oh. "I hate everyone!" Oh eye contact, someone was picking a fight - with everyone. The reptile stopped looking and didn't pressure them? Didn't care. The ship owner wanted peace? Didn't care. He hated All of the others in the room.
"Not trusting you then. You look like a witch afterall." A bad kind of witch, the one he did not trust. Nice try, he was still not drinking. Tail gave a light agitated swish, moving the feathers a little as it did.
He hated her.
But then again, Haleon hated everyone that was not of his species, and even some that were of his own species. Go figure. Not a hard task to accomplish such position in his mind.
He'd keep a tab on the woman, ever so sour expression remaining as the detective was then the one who had his attention. Sure. Drink your drink, he'd watch how you squirm and die, and there was no healing coming his way.
Only that the man did not start wincing in agony. Nothing happened.
Strange...
And the acts spoke of sincerity, no lies to be caught there... Still not fully trusting him, but he gave the man the beneficial side of doubt.
"Hrm. This once. But I do not like those that just toy around." Dismissing the others for that moment - or at least stopping his staring contest - Haleon turned to the drinks, picked one up and with a careful sniff taken first took a sip, making his own judgements of the substance. "The taste seems to be tainted."
"Leo, be a little more polite." There would be a little interruption by Siro, who scolds her fellow specimen and tries to smile in apology to the bartender, woman and man who paid for the drinks. "It's just probably the ingredient that outsider merchants like added in their drinks. I think they call it alcohol."
"That thing could kill you. Never understood quite why they keep drinking it, it numbs their senses and makes them do stupid things." Frowning at the suggestion, glass being stared at.
"I dunno, maybe it's a gamble of some sort." Siro stayed optimistic.
"Gambling is bad." As optimistic as one could at least, with someone as negative and closed as Haleon on the other side of the argument. Best to just shrug it off.
Siro was all too fine on sitting still and inspecting the surroundings from there, not minding most things and keeping a positive mind on everything. The unordinarily big cockroach... Insectoid... Jacobo, that one, it brought up some nervousness in her as they approached, but she'd try and keep smiling nevertheless. The grab on the ear was taken as 'maybe it's some form of greeting they have?' and so she was more open minded even if it felt very strange.
"Ummm, hello~ Can I help you with som-!" Friendliness was put to a halt as the tablet was smacked against her head. A smaller creature, one wouldn't expect there to be much force behind it, but this was an insect we were talking about, and insects? Those things could easily lift things multiple times their size and weight, so there was a surprising amount of strength behind it.
There goes the will to talk for a moment, stopped by a quickly increasing headache as the impact had caused it. Siro had clenched her hand and fingers tight as it was all happening, the sharpness of claws causing for some light stripes on the bar counter's surface, likely to blend in with the others, but a sad frown attempted to be hid behind that arm that lifted onto her head to hold the hurting spot were more noticeable. Markings on her backwards turned ears flickered ever so weakly like broken Christmas lights.
".... It's ok...." Spoken quietly in return to the apology, Jacobo already making his way back away. That really hurt. Bad first impressions to get out of strangers, she didn't know what to think of it.
Haleon on the other hand Did know what to think of it, expressing his thoughts rather clearly, fangs exposed and all as he snarled and glared at the insectoid.
"Get back here!" Growling after the critter, odd tasting drink pushed to the side while he wanted to absolutely savage the insectoid. No good ever came of outsiders. Never.
To their luck, he'd be stopped by the one holding her head.
"No, it's ok... We should be giving everyone a chance..." They were peaceful creatures - at least that should be their default.
"Mrrrr.... ... Ok... But next time I'll do what I want." Gesturing towards it being their lucky day. No bar fights. "Stay still." Leaving the insectoid and letting them go, Haleon would be focusing his attention on the expanding headache that was pestering the other Modral. Healer as he was, putting most of his life into it, fixing such small things was nothing - although he kept his magic to a minimum. A mere presence was enough to have a healing effect, and he quite frankly did Not feel like sharing at the moment. "Just be a bit more careful, ok?" Genuinely caring towards his own, even if he liked to give a cold shoulder to the others. Siro's only response being a quite nod, though for how long the agreement lasted? Who knows.
Solki, on the meanwhile, just let out a loud sharp yawn, having not noticed much of the action, laying down on his own little isle that was the couch. Haleon raising his voice happened so often, that it did not concern him the least bit.
He'd, however, pounce right up when the competition was mentioned. Competition, contest, tomato, potato whatever.
A Contest.
"Me! Me!!!" Hand rose up to sign that he was interested. Well, if something offered him free money? Damn right he was in! .... Was he forgetting something? Oh, right. "I mean, Us of course~" Patching up his sentence, he didn't want to be surrounded by a bunch of strangers.
"That is so cliche... And you know it." Another scolding from Siro, although she could not help but to take some of that excitement that came with all the packed energy that was Solki. Solki who faked innocence and looked away to avert eye contact.
"I mean... It'd be a good way to show others what we are capable of you know?" Taking a little different approach to the matter. "Wouldn't hurt, right~?" Giving a stupidly wide grin as head was tilted, motioning towards the other two canids with that generic 'eeh eeeh???' type of sound.
"No. To be honest, that sounds pretty darn bad." Surprise to none, Haleon declined. "Why would you want for anyone to know of us? You'll give us a bad reputation and directing attention towards us is Bad." He was strictly going to keep his foot down on that one.
"Blah blah, you always say that. Like you're a bear that someone shot on the butt. Now let me see about those things, I'm signing that ****." Waving his hand about, uncaring, the pale one hopped up and off the couch, making his way to whomever currently possessed the tablet.
Someone just rustled Haleon's jimmies, big time.
"You're Not signing Anything!" Volume was upped as he got up from his chair, fangs still showing, a couple wrinkles upon his muzzle.
"Tough luck. You're too late, I already did. Now come on, let's get going!" Not so much as out of arrogance, but out of the fact that Haleon was always against Everything. Things would get boring quick if he just complied and never did anything. He didn't fear no angry man~
And angry that man was.
"I hate This!!! And I hate you!" No surprises there either, frustrated, not having many words to choose from, foot tapped against the floor rapidly, aggravated.
"Oh come on, it can't be That bad." Trying to smile a little again, Siro took to defending Solki, having taken in some of his excitement and cheered up from it.
This all earned her a look from Haleon, one that spoke without making sounds. 'I heal you, and this is how you pay me?'
"I hate the both of you." Uh oh. "I hate everyone!" Oh eye contact, someone was picking a fight - with everyone. The reptile stopped looking and didn't pressure them? Didn't care. The ship owner wanted peace? Didn't care. He hated All of the others in the room.
((Omit))
There was a small creaking sound from them. Though none of the humans would recognize the noise, it was the sound of surprise equivalent to a gasp. "How kind of you, Mr. Rodriguez," they said in appreciation.
One of the men ran up to the creature and tried to hit its torso with the bat. The blunt weapon sunk into its side creating an indention in its form.
"Ow," the alien said simply before picking up the man. They slammed him and the biker together before throwing them into the trash. "I am known as Mutacogi Bacterialis. Mutacogi more commonly." He looked at Ringo before saying softly in a confused voice. "I am not a man."
The last man standing looked between them nervously before running at his opponents. Mutacogi grabbed him by the face and threw him back on his shot companion. He went to get up, but his bat followed and struck him in the head.
Mutacogi turned to Ringo. "We can go now Mr. Rodriguez."
One of the men ran up to the creature and tried to hit its torso with the bat. The blunt weapon sunk into its side creating an indention in its form.
"Ow," the alien said simply before picking up the man. They slammed him and the biker together before throwing them into the trash. "I am known as Mutacogi Bacterialis. Mutacogi more commonly." He looked at Ringo before saying softly in a confused voice. "I am not a man."
The last man standing looked between them nervously before running at his opponents. Mutacogi grabbed him by the face and threw him back on his shot companion. He went to get up, but his bat followed and struck him in the head.
Mutacogi turned to Ringo. "We can go now Mr. Rodriguez."
The reptoid's muscular tail swished as the volume of his would-be team mates increased. The energy of the canids reminded him of prey animals-- as he turned back to observe, he could almost hear the sounds of their collective heartbeats, imagining the warmth of their blood on his tongue. His stomach growled and he salivated. Almost losing a drop of it off the edge of his snout prompted him to lap it back between his teeth with his forked tongue and he blurted out. "I hunger."
He stood up to find a waiter but it didn't take long for one to find him, uncomfortably risking the strange alien's wrath to show him a menu. Then Shashi was occupied again, sipping his beverage and reading.
He stood up to find a waiter but it didn't take long for one to find him, uncomfortably risking the strange alien's wrath to show him a menu. Then Shashi was occupied again, sipping his beverage and reading.
"Who is to say that I am not a witch?~" Talis played into the canid creature mistrust with a easy coy smile. They were absolutely delicious to tease and plucking such simple strings of mischief while they got to know each other, was grand fun.
"I could cast a spell and steal all of your riches and buy the finest of wines. Or maybe I could turn you all into frogs and cook you into a stew," She pondered, flourishing her movements as if she could cast such a whimsical thing with a wave of her hand. Ending her commentary with a shrug, Talis sighed and her eyes glittered. Humming, she suddenly spoke louder, indicating that she was speaking to all in her team.
"What I would really like to know, however, is details. Give me stories, tell me all about you and maybe, I won't turn you into a frog or better yet, I won't steal too much from you. After all, if this is supposed to be a grand adventure why not start it off with sharing tales? It would surely help set the mood" She added with a playful wink.
"I could cast a spell and steal all of your riches and buy the finest of wines. Or maybe I could turn you all into frogs and cook you into a stew," She pondered, flourishing her movements as if she could cast such a whimsical thing with a wave of her hand. Ending her commentary with a shrug, Talis sighed and her eyes glittered. Humming, she suddenly spoke louder, indicating that she was speaking to all in her team.
"What I would really like to know, however, is details. Give me stories, tell me all about you and maybe, I won't turn you into a frog or better yet, I won't steal too much from you. After all, if this is supposed to be a grand adventure why not start it off with sharing tales? It would surely help set the mood" She added with a playful wink.
The room was dimly lit, shadows softening the corners and neutralizing the harsh brightness of its usual light. Shen, the snarky Phyx, was curled up at the foot of the bed, their feathers thick enoigh to protect their body from the chilly floor. Their eyes were closed, breathing slow.
Rai stared up at the ceiling of their new room in the Koolest. They turned the awakening of the other Nyran over and over in their mind, trying to analyze everything that went on. Was there a cruel expression too quick to catch? A hand twitch towards an aether staff? A grace too recognizable, or, unrecognizable, betraying another presence? There were too many questions, too many possibilities of failure in their part.
They were too tired to think this through.
They exhaled, half- expecting to find it foggy, and marginally disappointed (though not too much so) when it didn't. I've regressed they mused to themself, turning on their stomach in order to properly bury their face on the pillow. I wonder how Reqti is was an unbidden thought that they frantically attempted to push away- but, no luck. They groaned, pushing their head even more into the pillow until he was suffocating, but they could still feel the warmth of his hand- aaand they were blushing.
... He's grown so much...
They lifted their head, leaning on their elbows this time, and finally tugged at their clasp, loose hair falling over their shoulders. Their thoughts strayed towards his sister.
Tahil.
They bit their lip. Her eyes had a certain glint- one that, in their experience, meant trouble. A lot of it. It was the look of a woman with nothing to lose.
She seemed... happy before. Alright.
They wondered what changed.
They flopped back on their stomach, limbs sprawled and eyelids half closed. They'll find out in the morning.
(Or, you know, what counts as morning in the middle of space. But they were too tired to care about stupid little things like that.)
Rin flinched in surprise, blinking rapidly. Instinctively he made to step back and give himself space- but as soon as he tried Vaxur held him in place, one hand firm on his shoulder, the other pressing the small of his back. Embarassment seemed to be taking a backseat this time.
He wavered.
Vaxur shot him a bright grin that left him dazed as he turned to Dal. "Sure were, miss," he said, voice reaching a level of joy that had not been previously heard. "He looks good, too. Not that he doesn't usually, cause, damn-" he winked. Oh gods, not again, his cheeks were hot stop- "but anyway, he should be alright once he's got more rest."
Rin nodded, still flushed, but giving Dal a tiny smile. "Just tired, like Vax said," he replied. His content expression changed into that of concern. "You should rest soon," he said, softly.
"Definitely," Vaxur said, waving a hand out towards the med bay. "Speaking of which, that Tsuan dude better not complain about having to rest a a while after he wakes up."
Oh right! He tapped the hand on his shoulder, and he was able to turn and take a few shaky steps towards Dal with a stabilizing hand still on his back. "What happened to Tsuan?" he asked. He could hear Commander Wyr wander off, presumably back to whatever ship she and Vaxur traveled on- he could feel the faint wince, the twitch that moved Vaxur's hand as he asked the question- and he saw the slump on Dal's shoulders, the tired sag of each movement.
I hope he'll be alright...
Rai stared up at the ceiling of their new room in the Koolest. They turned the awakening of the other Nyran over and over in their mind, trying to analyze everything that went on. Was there a cruel expression too quick to catch? A hand twitch towards an aether staff? A grace too recognizable, or, unrecognizable, betraying another presence? There were too many questions, too many possibilities of failure in their part.
They were too tired to think this through.
They exhaled, half- expecting to find it foggy, and marginally disappointed (though not too much so) when it didn't. I've regressed they mused to themself, turning on their stomach in order to properly bury their face on the pillow. I wonder how Reqti is was an unbidden thought that they frantically attempted to push away- but, no luck. They groaned, pushing their head even more into the pillow until he was suffocating, but they could still feel the warmth of his hand- aaand they were blushing.
... He's grown so much...
They lifted their head, leaning on their elbows this time, and finally tugged at their clasp, loose hair falling over their shoulders. Their thoughts strayed towards his sister.
Tahil.
They bit their lip. Her eyes had a certain glint- one that, in their experience, meant trouble. A lot of it. It was the look of a woman with nothing to lose.
She seemed... happy before. Alright.
They wondered what changed.
They flopped back on their stomach, limbs sprawled and eyelids half closed. They'll find out in the morning.
(Or, you know, what counts as morning in the middle of space. But they were too tired to care about stupid little things like that.)
Rin flinched in surprise, blinking rapidly. Instinctively he made to step back and give himself space- but as soon as he tried Vaxur held him in place, one hand firm on his shoulder, the other pressing the small of his back. Embarassment seemed to be taking a backseat this time.
He wavered.
Vaxur shot him a bright grin that left him dazed as he turned to Dal. "Sure were, miss," he said, voice reaching a level of joy that had not been previously heard. "He looks good, too. Not that he doesn't usually, cause, damn-" he winked. Oh gods, not again, his cheeks were hot stop- "but anyway, he should be alright once he's got more rest."
Rin nodded, still flushed, but giving Dal a tiny smile. "Just tired, like Vax said," he replied. His content expression changed into that of concern. "You should rest soon," he said, softly.
"Definitely," Vaxur said, waving a hand out towards the med bay. "Speaking of which, that Tsuan dude better not complain about having to rest a a while after he wakes up."
Oh right! He tapped the hand on his shoulder, and he was able to turn and take a few shaky steps towards Dal with a stabilizing hand still on his back. "What happened to Tsuan?" he asked. He could hear Commander Wyr wander off, presumably back to whatever ship she and Vaxur traveled on- he could feel the faint wince, the twitch that moved Vaxur's hand as he asked the question- and he saw the slump on Dal's shoulders, the tired sag of each movement.
I hope he'll be alright...
"Legendary", whispered Ringo, tipping his hat. This was followed with a fake cough that eventually turned into a legitimate cough. "Lets get out of here before this place starts to look like a Xeno-Tarantino film...Mutacogi...". The name Mutacogi came out like syrup as Ringo tried fumbling it out. He picked up the previous gangsters bike and signaled for Mutacogi to get on. Never learning how to ride a hoverbike, Ringo wrenched one of the handles down, starting the engine and turning on the headlights. Speeding off like a rat on fire, Ringo and Mutacogi flew past about a dozen or so large crowds before making it to a intercontinental mega-highway that wrapped around a city. "So you want to tell me more about yourself, Mootahcogee?".
The Ark of Chyll
I think it’s worth noting before we continue that I’m not a crooked cop. Just throwing that out there.
Thing is, justice has a lot of different interpretations. In my experience, the ends usually justify the means. I’ve done my share of bad things for good reasons. That’s why I couldn’t bring myself to entirely write off Talis - Not sure when I learned her name actually, might have been later. I couldn’t write her off because I knew there was a ripe good chance we’d have to do some low @#$% - and if it came to that, it’d be damn good to have her around.
I was pretty sure one of those chicken-dogs was a Regenerator. I don’t know much about them - but supposedly every now and then a primitive race will spring up outta’ nowhere, with these ‘magic healers’, with some weird biological properties allowing them to accelerate organic healing. One way or another, it wasn’t ‘magic’, though you’d be ard-pressed to get them to agree.
It sure as heck hadn’t taken long to scope the three of them out. The female was the only level-headed one with them, and I had a feeling I’d be dealing with her more than the others.
Some of us were already butting heads. Not good - but there’d be only so much I could do…
The sudden rumble of the lizard Shashi’s voice was enough to earn a sidelong glance from the detective - but he also had to make a conscious effort not to hoot at the bluntness of it. Clearly social interaction was not this one’s strong suit. The same, he figured, applied to the awkward white-haired kid, who was acting sketchy enough that in any other situation, Clégg would have taken him for a punk.
Sipping at his drink, Dave peered over the glass and watched as the canids bickered amongst themselves. ”Well, you three certainly get along well.” He said on a cheerful note, grinning. ”Did we get your names already?” The followup was carefully lacking in any accusatory undertones.
”And y’know,” he added with a drawl, focusing his eyes on the grumpiest of dogs. ”I hear witches make a mean frog stew.”
Finally, Clégg made to stand, with just a little bit of exaggerated tiredness. ”Something tells me-” he began, voice strained just a little, and airing out once he was standing up straight. H was much taller than he’d looked sitting down. ”Our friend Jacobo’s got a few interesting stories, ah?” He prompted, putting him on the spot.
Clégg knew little about the pillbug species, but the beard gave an impression of old age.
Regardless of what the old bug had to say, it would be just enough for Clégg - who stepped away from the barstool just enough to come up to Wick. He gave the younger man a meaningful pat to the side of his shoulder with the back of his hand, caught his eye, and nodded toward the back of the room.
Know Boat The Scout U Koolest Ship
Dallen blinked, faltering for only half a beat. An impressive feat, given the situation and her present condition. Casually, she flicked a stray lock of blue hair away from her eyes, imbuing the words with a similar easiness. ”Swan hurt ‘imself ‘cause he a @#$%in’ idiot.” She drawled, stepping back just enough to allow the groggy Rin a glimpse, without letting him look too closely. She would be conspicuously in the way if he tried edging past her. ”@#$%ed up his hand. Pretty bad but ain’t nothin’ we can’t fix. He’ll be fine.”
And she did have a way of blowing it all off that made big problems seem like ‘no big deal’. But what she couldn’t do anything about was the lingering scent of sterility and the pungent, residual odor of blood and sweat. Faint, hardly a whisper - but hanging there like a vague, bad memory.
Dal stepped forward, gently ushering Rin out of the doorway so that his curiosity might be redirected elsewhere without actually gesturing or touching. ”I’mma head up the P.C. an’ get us goin’ real quick.” She concluded, promptly making her way down the hall to the control room. She let the silent implication that a prompt return to the medbay would follow go unspoken.
Meanwhile, Sands had followed Jackson to where he stood - or, rather, sat - sentry in front of the makeshift brig - inside which were two unconscious - or very nearly unconscious - Qetans. The eagerness that the beefy man radiated, the enthusiasm to contribute and help - it made Sands grin.
When he spoke though, leaning against one wall and letting the hefty rifle hang loosely in his arms, it was with regret. ”Sorry about sticking you with the most boring job in the house.” He said, earnestly. ”Wish there was more you could do but...Until whatshisface decides what to do with them...y’know.” He gave a helpless shrug. ”I’ll take over if you get too bored.”
It had been little trouble to lock down the Qetan ship. With the lizard-thing still unconscious, Ty had merely to shut and lock the airlock of the Koolest, allowing the docking clamps to retain their vice-like grip on the alien vessel. It was an important bargaining chip to have - not to mention that their new friend Rai would probably benefit from having the ship at hand.
Following the lockdown, Ty made a cursory check on the security of the smaller ship upon which Rin’s friends had come, seeing to it that it too would remain snugly attached to the mismatched eyesore that was three vastly different ships all clinging to one another as they drifted lazily through space. Satisfied that all was as well as it was going to get, he signaled Dal, who went about getting the ship moving. Slow enough that all three ships stayed together, fast enough that they would likely reach the Skadi by the next morning.
”So.” Ty began, catching Vaxur just as Dallen was stealthily slipping back into the medbay, where she would remain for most of the night. ”What do you think you’ll do now?”
The White Death
Nobody aboard the White Death was having a very good day. None of the humans, anyway. The inexplicable failure of otherwise miraculous technology would be enough to dampen spirits - let alone what said technology was the only thing standing between a beloved comrade and the real death. But the gloom and misfortune was not spared from anyone - not even the unwelcome guest.
The malevolent entity that had infiltrated the unassailable flying fortress that was the majestic White Death. The being of such incredible, inconceivable power that surely it would be incapable of failure in any capacity. Hyperintelligence, omniscience, even? A being of limitless skill and grace! The one for whom every day was strength and satisfaction.
Except today. Today, she was having a very bad day indeed. This was no ‘omniscient entity’. Not by a long-shot.
The worst part was that she wasn’t even entirely sure how she had gotten to this stage of her predicament. It had been that way for days - a blur of nonstop desperation trying to navigate the wartorn world following the collapse of the Union. She wasn’t sure when was the last time she ate or slept was, just as she wasn’t sure why she was dealing with all that blood. It didn’t really matter. Reasons had long since become irrelevant.
She was on the floor, hidden away behind a host of storage crates of varying sizes. It was well lit and quiet. It was the cargo hold of the starship White Death. She had made it off the planet. Now all she had to do was survive until the first place they moored, flee the ship, and she’d be home-free.
Easier said than done.
On the floor, she was fumbling one-handedly with the roll of medical tape she kept in one of her many pockets. The gash on her upper arm wasn’t bleeding too much - but only because she had put as much pressure on it as she could, and had yet to unclench her hand from around it. Unfortunately it meant she had only one hand to use, and she couldn’t even actually find the thing, come to think of it-
She had slipped aboard and immediately ducked for one of the subtle maintenance hatchways that allowed access to the narrow place between the inner and outer hulls. Or, at least, that’s where she figured she was, but there was no way to tell without mapping the ship, and that was not a concern at the moment.
Something, she recalled, had forced her out into the open. Space only knew what - had something fallen? Had conditions changed in her hiding spot and forced her to a clumsy retreat into the open? She was pretty sure that she hadn’t actually been spotted. The sophisticated device which had gained her entry into the impenetrable fortress would likely keep her invisible to automated defenses. She was essentially a glitch in the system - a skipped-beat.
But she was pretty sure that for some reason or another, she had ended up making a whole lot of noise - and that wasn’t something that her powerful little gadget - precious as it was - could protect her from. Whatever had happened to give her that gash had probably called of at least some degree of attention. She hoped that she’d gotten far enough away, but for all she knew it could have gone down right around the corner. She was dimly aware of the fact that she was in an incredible vulnerable position. If someone had come to investigate…whatever had happened, they might very well find her cornered and all but delirious.
Where were those blasted bandages?
Obviously she hadn’t triggered alarms. The entire crew of the ship wouldn’t be barreling down upon her at that very moment. Probably. But one wayward sentry would be all it took to end her.
She was going to need both hands. That meant she had to bandage that wound. She could have sworn there was a roll of gauze in one of those pockets…!
♪
I think it’s worth noting before we continue that I’m not a crooked cop. Just throwing that out there.
Thing is, justice has a lot of different interpretations. In my experience, the ends usually justify the means. I’ve done my share of bad things for good reasons. That’s why I couldn’t bring myself to entirely write off Talis - Not sure when I learned her name actually, might have been later. I couldn’t write her off because I knew there was a ripe good chance we’d have to do some low @#$% - and if it came to that, it’d be damn good to have her around.
I was pretty sure one of those chicken-dogs was a Regenerator. I don’t know much about them - but supposedly every now and then a primitive race will spring up outta’ nowhere, with these ‘magic healers’, with some weird biological properties allowing them to accelerate organic healing. One way or another, it wasn’t ‘magic’, though you’d be ard-pressed to get them to agree.
It sure as heck hadn’t taken long to scope the three of them out. The female was the only level-headed one with them, and I had a feeling I’d be dealing with her more than the others.
Some of us were already butting heads. Not good - but there’d be only so much I could do…
The sudden rumble of the lizard Shashi’s voice was enough to earn a sidelong glance from the detective - but he also had to make a conscious effort not to hoot at the bluntness of it. Clearly social interaction was not this one’s strong suit. The same, he figured, applied to the awkward white-haired kid, who was acting sketchy enough that in any other situation, Clégg would have taken him for a punk.
Sipping at his drink, Dave peered over the glass and watched as the canids bickered amongst themselves. ”Well, you three certainly get along well.” He said on a cheerful note, grinning. ”Did we get your names already?” The followup was carefully lacking in any accusatory undertones.
”And y’know,” he added with a drawl, focusing his eyes on the grumpiest of dogs. ”I hear witches make a mean frog stew.”
Finally, Clégg made to stand, with just a little bit of exaggerated tiredness. ”Something tells me-” he began, voice strained just a little, and airing out once he was standing up straight. H was much taller than he’d looked sitting down. ”Our friend Jacobo’s got a few interesting stories, ah?” He prompted, putting him on the spot.
Clégg knew little about the pillbug species, but the beard gave an impression of old age.
Regardless of what the old bug had to say, it would be just enough for Clégg - who stepped away from the barstool just enough to come up to Wick. He gave the younger man a meaningful pat to the side of his shoulder with the back of his hand, caught his eye, and nodded toward the back of the room.
Know Boat The Scout U Koolest Ship
Dallen blinked, faltering for only half a beat. An impressive feat, given the situation and her present condition. Casually, she flicked a stray lock of blue hair away from her eyes, imbuing the words with a similar easiness. ”Swan hurt ‘imself ‘cause he a @#$%in’ idiot.” She drawled, stepping back just enough to allow the groggy Rin a glimpse, without letting him look too closely. She would be conspicuously in the way if he tried edging past her. ”@#$%ed up his hand. Pretty bad but ain’t nothin’ we can’t fix. He’ll be fine.”
And she did have a way of blowing it all off that made big problems seem like ‘no big deal’. But what she couldn’t do anything about was the lingering scent of sterility and the pungent, residual odor of blood and sweat. Faint, hardly a whisper - but hanging there like a vague, bad memory.
Dal stepped forward, gently ushering Rin out of the doorway so that his curiosity might be redirected elsewhere without actually gesturing or touching. ”I’mma head up the P.C. an’ get us goin’ real quick.” She concluded, promptly making her way down the hall to the control room. She let the silent implication that a prompt return to the medbay would follow go unspoken.
Meanwhile, Sands had followed Jackson to where he stood - or, rather, sat - sentry in front of the makeshift brig - inside which were two unconscious - or very nearly unconscious - Qetans. The eagerness that the beefy man radiated, the enthusiasm to contribute and help - it made Sands grin.
When he spoke though, leaning against one wall and letting the hefty rifle hang loosely in his arms, it was with regret. ”Sorry about sticking you with the most boring job in the house.” He said, earnestly. ”Wish there was more you could do but...Until whatshisface decides what to do with them...y’know.” He gave a helpless shrug. ”I’ll take over if you get too bored.”
It had been little trouble to lock down the Qetan ship. With the lizard-thing still unconscious, Ty had merely to shut and lock the airlock of the Koolest, allowing the docking clamps to retain their vice-like grip on the alien vessel. It was an important bargaining chip to have - not to mention that their new friend Rai would probably benefit from having the ship at hand.
Following the lockdown, Ty made a cursory check on the security of the smaller ship upon which Rin’s friends had come, seeing to it that it too would remain snugly attached to the mismatched eyesore that was three vastly different ships all clinging to one another as they drifted lazily through space. Satisfied that all was as well as it was going to get, he signaled Dal, who went about getting the ship moving. Slow enough that all three ships stayed together, fast enough that they would likely reach the Skadi by the next morning.
”So.” Ty began, catching Vaxur just as Dallen was stealthily slipping back into the medbay, where she would remain for most of the night. ”What do you think you’ll do now?”
The White Death
Nobody aboard the White Death was having a very good day. None of the humans, anyway. The inexplicable failure of otherwise miraculous technology would be enough to dampen spirits - let alone what said technology was the only thing standing between a beloved comrade and the real death. But the gloom and misfortune was not spared from anyone - not even the unwelcome guest.
The malevolent entity that had infiltrated the unassailable flying fortress that was the majestic White Death. The being of such incredible, inconceivable power that surely it would be incapable of failure in any capacity. Hyperintelligence, omniscience, even? A being of limitless skill and grace! The one for whom every day was strength and satisfaction.
Except today. Today, she was having a very bad day indeed. This was no ‘omniscient entity’. Not by a long-shot.
The worst part was that she wasn’t even entirely sure how she had gotten to this stage of her predicament. It had been that way for days - a blur of nonstop desperation trying to navigate the wartorn world following the collapse of the Union. She wasn’t sure when was the last time she ate or slept was, just as she wasn’t sure why she was dealing with all that blood. It didn’t really matter. Reasons had long since become irrelevant.
She was on the floor, hidden away behind a host of storage crates of varying sizes. It was well lit and quiet. It was the cargo hold of the starship White Death. She had made it off the planet. Now all she had to do was survive until the first place they moored, flee the ship, and she’d be home-free.
Easier said than done.
On the floor, she was fumbling one-handedly with the roll of medical tape she kept in one of her many pockets. The gash on her upper arm wasn’t bleeding too much - but only because she had put as much pressure on it as she could, and had yet to unclench her hand from around it. Unfortunately it meant she had only one hand to use, and she couldn’t even actually find the thing, come to think of it-
She had slipped aboard and immediately ducked for one of the subtle maintenance hatchways that allowed access to the narrow place between the inner and outer hulls. Or, at least, that’s where she figured she was, but there was no way to tell without mapping the ship, and that was not a concern at the moment.
Something, she recalled, had forced her out into the open. Space only knew what - had something fallen? Had conditions changed in her hiding spot and forced her to a clumsy retreat into the open? She was pretty sure that she hadn’t actually been spotted. The sophisticated device which had gained her entry into the impenetrable fortress would likely keep her invisible to automated defenses. She was essentially a glitch in the system - a skipped-beat.
But she was pretty sure that for some reason or another, she had ended up making a whole lot of noise - and that wasn’t something that her powerful little gadget - precious as it was - could protect her from. Whatever had happened to give her that gash had probably called of at least some degree of attention. She hoped that she’d gotten far enough away, but for all she knew it could have gone down right around the corner. She was dimly aware of the fact that she was in an incredible vulnerable position. If someone had come to investigate…whatever had happened, they might very well find her cornered and all but delirious.
Where were those blasted bandages?
Obviously she hadn’t triggered alarms. The entire crew of the ship wouldn’t be barreling down upon her at that very moment. Probably. But one wayward sentry would be all it took to end her.
She was going to need both hands. That meant she had to bandage that wound. She could have sworn there was a roll of gauze in one of those pockets…!
Assuming a meaning from the detective's nod, Wick stood up from his chair and made for the back of the room. He seemed much better with people than Wick, so more than likely he would be there leader and wick just the pilot.
"Is there something you want to talk about?" he whispered, unsure whether or not they needed to be discreet. There were a lot of people in the bar, maybe they wouldn't be heard either way.
"Is there something you want to talk about?" he whispered, unsure whether or not they needed to be discreet. There were a lot of people in the bar, maybe they wouldn't be heard either way.
The Ark of Chyll
What makes a good leader? I’ll tell you what - just as soon as I figure it out myself.
There’s a lot of factors that go into it, and chances are everyone’s heard some uppity political analyst or armchair-dictator go off on the supposed science of it. But the thing is - nobody really knows. You can read the book a hundred times, stick right to the plan, and still bungle it all something fierce.
Yeah, the knack comes with experience. I’m no politician, but when you’ve dealt with as many people as I have, some of it becomes natural. Intuitive.
Not sayin’ I’m infallible. I’ve screwed up more times than I Can count, and the results are never pretty. WHen you get up on a pedestal and start finessing other people, it can go from crowd control to crisis management quicker than the click of a gun.
Some people like the power that comes with a position of leadership. They’re called ’tyrants’. Nobody in their right mind will ever want the responsibility of leadership. No genuinely good person as ever become a president. The simple act of seeking out power invalidates the intent.
It’s the folks who didn’t ask for it, didn’t want it, but bear it anyway that really stand out as good leaders.
But, I’m getting off topic…
Having retreated to the back of the bar, the pair were well out of average hearing range - but that didn’t always mean much given that all different kinds of beings came with differently-abled senses. Business had picked up however, and their little party was no longer the center of attention. Still, the spot that the Detective picked kept most of them strategically in sight.
With one hand in the pocket of his long, navy blue coat, he used the one still holding the drink to pluck the curious, unlit ‘cigarette’ from his mouth and held it between two fingers, dangerously close to flipping right into the murky booze.
The man looked older, up close. His long face gave an air of chronic exhaustion to every expression, and the five o’clock shadow only emphasized it. That being said, he also seemed perpetually amused.
”Yeaah,” He began, dragging out the word into two syllables, ”I’m gettin’ the vibe here that you might’a got yourself into deeper water than you bargained for.” There was neither hostility, nor smugness in his tone. The words were spoken lowly, but not quite a whisper.
”Now, I wanna’ be real clear here-” There was an air about him that suggested he was sharing helpful information, rather than scolding - and the deep, gravelly baritone of his voice was almost soothing to listen to, especially talking quietly as he was. ”This little group of ours, we’re all gonna’ be livin on your boat. That means you’re in charge.” He punctuated the words by splaying out the fingers holding the glass and cigarette, pointing at him. Suddenly it seemed vaguely as if he were delivering some not-so-hot news. His tired, but earnest eyes mae steady contact with those of the younger man.
”You’re the captain. Y’know that, right? You and her.” He gestured vaguely in the direction of Alice. ”All of us, we play by your rules as long as we’re on your boat. You got the last word. And don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m thinkin’ that…” He paused briefly, choosing his words, ”Ain’t exactly the kind of responsibility you really cherish.”
The Detective took a thoughtful sip of his drink, watching carefully, gauging the young man’s reaction more as a matter of habit than conscious intent. A man like Clégg, it seemed, was always watching.
”So, here’s the deal. I ain’t gonna’ budge on who's in charge around here - but I’ll do what I can to help you out. Any time you got somethin’ you wanna’ chat about, I’m all ears. You need anything, just say the word. Somebody needs to go out an airlock? That’s your word - but I’ll stick right behind ya’ the whole ride, alright?”
He sipped again at the drink, but made no move to return to the group just yet.
♪
What makes a good leader? I’ll tell you what - just as soon as I figure it out myself.
There’s a lot of factors that go into it, and chances are everyone’s heard some uppity political analyst or armchair-dictator go off on the supposed science of it. But the thing is - nobody really knows. You can read the book a hundred times, stick right to the plan, and still bungle it all something fierce.
Yeah, the knack comes with experience. I’m no politician, but when you’ve dealt with as many people as I have, some of it becomes natural. Intuitive.
Not sayin’ I’m infallible. I’ve screwed up more times than I Can count, and the results are never pretty. WHen you get up on a pedestal and start finessing other people, it can go from crowd control to crisis management quicker than the click of a gun.
Some people like the power that comes with a position of leadership. They’re called ’tyrants’. Nobody in their right mind will ever want the responsibility of leadership. No genuinely good person as ever become a president. The simple act of seeking out power invalidates the intent.
It’s the folks who didn’t ask for it, didn’t want it, but bear it anyway that really stand out as good leaders.
But, I’m getting off topic…
Having retreated to the back of the bar, the pair were well out of average hearing range - but that didn’t always mean much given that all different kinds of beings came with differently-abled senses. Business had picked up however, and their little party was no longer the center of attention. Still, the spot that the Detective picked kept most of them strategically in sight.
With one hand in the pocket of his long, navy blue coat, he used the one still holding the drink to pluck the curious, unlit ‘cigarette’ from his mouth and held it between two fingers, dangerously close to flipping right into the murky booze.
The man looked older, up close. His long face gave an air of chronic exhaustion to every expression, and the five o’clock shadow only emphasized it. That being said, he also seemed perpetually amused.
”Yeaah,” He began, dragging out the word into two syllables, ”I’m gettin’ the vibe here that you might’a got yourself into deeper water than you bargained for.” There was neither hostility, nor smugness in his tone. The words were spoken lowly, but not quite a whisper.
”Now, I wanna’ be real clear here-” There was an air about him that suggested he was sharing helpful information, rather than scolding - and the deep, gravelly baritone of his voice was almost soothing to listen to, especially talking quietly as he was. ”This little group of ours, we’re all gonna’ be livin on your boat. That means you’re in charge.” He punctuated the words by splaying out the fingers holding the glass and cigarette, pointing at him. Suddenly it seemed vaguely as if he were delivering some not-so-hot news. His tired, but earnest eyes mae steady contact with those of the younger man.
”You’re the captain. Y’know that, right? You and her.” He gestured vaguely in the direction of Alice. ”All of us, we play by your rules as long as we’re on your boat. You got the last word. And don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m thinkin’ that…” He paused briefly, choosing his words, ”Ain’t exactly the kind of responsibility you really cherish.”
The Detective took a thoughtful sip of his drink, watching carefully, gauging the young man’s reaction more as a matter of habit than conscious intent. A man like Clégg, it seemed, was always watching.
”So, here’s the deal. I ain’t gonna’ budge on who's in charge around here - but I’ll do what I can to help you out. Any time you got somethin’ you wanna’ chat about, I’m all ears. You need anything, just say the word. Somebody needs to go out an airlock? That’s your word - but I’ll stick right behind ya’ the whole ride, alright?”
He sipped again at the drink, but made no move to return to the group just yet.
Wick blinked, unsure of what to say at first. The fact that he had just been tossing that around in his head and it was exactly what Clégg wanted to talk about caught him by surprise. Was the detective a telepath? He heard of them before, but he had yet to meet one. Then again, Wick hadn't made much of an effort to hide his reservations since they arrived, so it was probably obvious. Whatever the case, he appreciated the man wanting to talk to him about it and made sure to show it.
"I'll keep that in mind. This whole thing became much bigger than what I had bought the ship for, so yeah, I'm feeling a little in over my head. Thanks, though. I'll be sure to talk to you if I have any trouble." Wick held out his hand for a shake. He wasn't sure how well he'd do at leading them, but he would be sure to try his best.
"I'll keep that in mind. This whole thing became much bigger than what I had bought the ship for, so yeah, I'm feeling a little in over my head. Thanks, though. I'll be sure to talk to you if I have any trouble." Wick held out his hand for a shake. He wasn't sure how well he'd do at leading them, but he would be sure to try his best.
Christofer wouldn't have the slightest idea of Royanna's reaction towards him calling the washing machine simple. Really, he was guilty of the same thought process. What was simple to him, may not have been as simple to others. Made them similar but also different. He'd try to take things easy for the time being, not over think things. Although, it was a liiittle bit humoring and nostalgic to have someone address the map of something else than an area of operation as if it was a strategy war map or something. Well, he'd easily forgive her, nodding to the second choice she gave.
But lucky enough they wouldn't be going around the whole ship three times with the dirty and beat up coat at arms, for the target room was located rather quickly. And yet another lucky incidence, using it wasn't all that difficult either for the model appeared similar to what Christofer himself was used to. Perhaps a little figuring out, but all in all the progress happened swift and slick.
Then there was the whole issue and situation of him following. Yes, he had heard the same words a couple times already, but he was terribly afraid of making mistakes and getting on the nerves of the only other person present that he almost did it anyway. On accident but still. He was genuinely worried about things.
Shy wagging of his tail ensured as the woman wasn't critically angry at him, and he was allowed to come with. His shyness and varyness had gotten the most attention, for better or for worse, not exactly as intended but hey, he was happy over the softer nicer tone, and allowance.
Things were seeming better again. He wouldn't really even paid much deep attention to Roy's words, taking them as a norm again, to say such things, but because she corrected herself, his head lifted to pay attention to it. Had she somehow spoken of things with forbidden terms? Yes? No? Now he really should have put more mind into the first saying of the phrase, but he had been too happy over other things to get in any deeper meaning than 'normal piece of conversation and positivity'. Too bad he wouldn't want to bother Royanna over it, ask to have the first thing repeated. Yes she Just Said to him that things were fine, but he'd just silently nod instead of asking for repeats. Couldn't have been that important, and he heard the second one.
He'd follow after the woman, not really objecting, but staying closely behind her even if he knew he route to the control center now. The sight of the grey structures had eyes the size of saucers as a result. Oh. What was that? Sure, the letters and name rang a bell at the back of his head, but visual effects were more overpowering here.
He was stuck at the door for a moment, only a careful step and another made to carry him into the actual room, distance kept but the view out of the window eyed keenly, movement a little stiff due to this.
Shortly as the sound of greeting echoed and was heard in the room, head turned hastily from side to side to try and identify the source, arms leaning to the back of Roy's chair as he leaned on over the back of it, looking around the room before eventually settling on the thought that it was some of that newer technology again. Some easier wireless controls probably. Yeah, definitely.
Staying quiet for the duration of the entry and verification, he couldn't help but to ponder things all the while observing everything possible.
Would they know about the Diplomat? Did they ask for the ID check because it was no longer on the list? Or something else? Was there another Diplomat and they just got fluke lucky? Royanna had had a big reaction on finding the ship, Christofer trusted that it was not a reaction to just any ship - even if his would have been. They did need a ship, any ship back then, but this one could not have been just any ship. Tilting his head, had Royanna mentioned that it was super old or something? Well, it belonged to some rich and important person, so that was enough reassurance on him. But while Roy knew this, did the people at the station?
He was unsure about these things, but remained on the back, silent and trusting enough, not interrupting until things were all cleared out. Canid certainly wouldn't want to disrupt the docking of the ship, so he kept his thoughts to himself.
How common was theft here anyway? Would they be arrested? Or was this a great grand find? Uhhhh, too many questions.
Curious as he was and wanted to distract his mind, he could easily keep himself from going to the windows and taking a closer look outside. Sitting finally as he took in the fact that they were not going anywhere until the ship ad been properly parked. Right near the other chair, he was comfortable with seeing more than he needed just from there.
It was good that Roy did the piloting work, he could admire her for that.
Underlying thoughts were pressuring, but he'd just try to not think of them as they finally settled on some place. Eyes were quick to go to Roy as head turned. No need to ask if she had done it before or if this was the custom, usual process. Seemed obvious enough.
"I... Guess we're here then?" Spoken softly, but with a mild pitch at the end. Things were a little hard to grasp for now, but he should focus on the essentials and then figure the bigger picture, slowly and surely.
There was no burst of excitement to get off his chair, to jump up and be all joyful, run around, get crazy. No. He was calm, on the outside, a little stressed and nervous no the inside but ready to go and breath whenever Roy chose to get up.
But lucky enough they wouldn't be going around the whole ship three times with the dirty and beat up coat at arms, for the target room was located rather quickly. And yet another lucky incidence, using it wasn't all that difficult either for the model appeared similar to what Christofer himself was used to. Perhaps a little figuring out, but all in all the progress happened swift and slick.
Then there was the whole issue and situation of him following. Yes, he had heard the same words a couple times already, but he was terribly afraid of making mistakes and getting on the nerves of the only other person present that he almost did it anyway. On accident but still. He was genuinely worried about things.
Shy wagging of his tail ensured as the woman wasn't critically angry at him, and he was allowed to come with. His shyness and varyness had gotten the most attention, for better or for worse, not exactly as intended but hey, he was happy over the softer nicer tone, and allowance.
Things were seeming better again. He wouldn't really even paid much deep attention to Roy's words, taking them as a norm again, to say such things, but because she corrected herself, his head lifted to pay attention to it. Had she somehow spoken of things with forbidden terms? Yes? No? Now he really should have put more mind into the first saying of the phrase, but he had been too happy over other things to get in any deeper meaning than 'normal piece of conversation and positivity'. Too bad he wouldn't want to bother Royanna over it, ask to have the first thing repeated. Yes she Just Said to him that things were fine, but he'd just silently nod instead of asking for repeats. Couldn't have been that important, and he heard the second one.
He'd follow after the woman, not really objecting, but staying closely behind her even if he knew he route to the control center now. The sight of the grey structures had eyes the size of saucers as a result. Oh. What was that? Sure, the letters and name rang a bell at the back of his head, but visual effects were more overpowering here.
He was stuck at the door for a moment, only a careful step and another made to carry him into the actual room, distance kept but the view out of the window eyed keenly, movement a little stiff due to this.
Shortly as the sound of greeting echoed and was heard in the room, head turned hastily from side to side to try and identify the source, arms leaning to the back of Roy's chair as he leaned on over the back of it, looking around the room before eventually settling on the thought that it was some of that newer technology again. Some easier wireless controls probably. Yeah, definitely.
Staying quiet for the duration of the entry and verification, he couldn't help but to ponder things all the while observing everything possible.
Would they know about the Diplomat? Did they ask for the ID check because it was no longer on the list? Or something else? Was there another Diplomat and they just got fluke lucky? Royanna had had a big reaction on finding the ship, Christofer trusted that it was not a reaction to just any ship - even if his would have been. They did need a ship, any ship back then, but this one could not have been just any ship. Tilting his head, had Royanna mentioned that it was super old or something? Well, it belonged to some rich and important person, so that was enough reassurance on him. But while Roy knew this, did the people at the station?
He was unsure about these things, but remained on the back, silent and trusting enough, not interrupting until things were all cleared out. Canid certainly wouldn't want to disrupt the docking of the ship, so he kept his thoughts to himself.
How common was theft here anyway? Would they be arrested? Or was this a great grand find? Uhhhh, too many questions.
Curious as he was and wanted to distract his mind, he could easily keep himself from going to the windows and taking a closer look outside. Sitting finally as he took in the fact that they were not going anywhere until the ship ad been properly parked. Right near the other chair, he was comfortable with seeing more than he needed just from there.
It was good that Roy did the piloting work, he could admire her for that.
Underlying thoughts were pressuring, but he'd just try to not think of them as they finally settled on some place. Eyes were quick to go to Roy as head turned. No need to ask if she had done it before or if this was the custom, usual process. Seemed obvious enough.
"I... Guess we're here then?" Spoken softly, but with a mild pitch at the end. Things were a little hard to grasp for now, but he should focus on the essentials and then figure the bigger picture, slowly and surely.
There was no burst of excitement to get off his chair, to jump up and be all joyful, run around, get crazy. No. He was calm, on the outside, a little stressed and nervous no the inside but ready to go and breath whenever Roy chose to get up.
Feeling a unusual drop of water begin to roll down her cheek, Asya gets up from her seat. Heading towards the med bay door she turns and looks back at the Commander still attempting to repair the machine. With a voice that was beginning to crack despite a clear attempt at using her officers voice, Asya says "I must speak with Sergeant Black on the current situation. There is nothing else that I can do here." Without waiting for a reply Asya leaves the med bay and begins to navigate back towards Jack's quarters.
Unfortunately for Asya Jack would not be inside his quarters when she arrived. Jack had awoken and left several minutes earlier to check on Jin, unaware of the emergency that was about to happen, only to promptly become lost in the unfamiliar corridors of the ship. That's when he heard a loud clattering noise. Racing in the direction the sound had come from, he arrives to see a couple of twisted access panels on the floor and blood. Becoming alert he cautiously draws his knife.
He knew he needed to warn of a possible intruder on board , but he did not know how to work the ships intercom system. Yet he couldn't just leave and let whoever it was have free roam. He begins to follow the direction of travel the drops hinted at, eventually ending up in the cargo hold. While having lost the trail, he assumed they must be hold up somewhere close if they had been injured. Slowly he begins to quietly work his way through the stacks of cargo. Despite his best efforts, in the quietness of the cargo hold he was still loud.
Unfortunately for Asya Jack would not be inside his quarters when she arrived. Jack had awoken and left several minutes earlier to check on Jin, unaware of the emergency that was about to happen, only to promptly become lost in the unfamiliar corridors of the ship. That's when he heard a loud clattering noise. Racing in the direction the sound had come from, he arrives to see a couple of twisted access panels on the floor and blood. Becoming alert he cautiously draws his knife.
He knew he needed to warn of a possible intruder on board , but he did not know how to work the ships intercom system. Yet he couldn't just leave and let whoever it was have free roam. He begins to follow the direction of travel the drops hinted at, eventually ending up in the cargo hold. While having lost the trail, he assumed they must be hold up somewhere close if they had been injured. Slowly he begins to quietly work his way through the stacks of cargo. Despite his best efforts, in the quietness of the cargo hold he was still loud.
White Death, Cargo Bay
BN-12 activated with a clatter, a damaged restraint sent it spinning to the floor wildly. With a whirr and the sound of hydraulics, the BRD-01 struggled to push itself to its feet. Once upright, BN-12's boxy head looking around for....it wasn't sure. When it reached for the A858 "Volt" directed energy submachine gun, it noticed two things: one, its weapon was missing; and two, so was its right arm.
Being of a more primitive programming, it stumbled forward on disused leg actuators, a rusty clank grinding against its audio receptors. Again and again, it tried linking to the ship's mainframe. Again and again, it failed, but never stopped trying. The reason was because the older SPECTRE had expired comsec keys, so the encryptions of the White Death simply ignored the machine.
Moments later, it detected two lifeforms, and upon seeing them, ignored them as noncombatants. It carried on, walking between them both towards an unknown goal.
BN-12 activated with a clatter, a damaged restraint sent it spinning to the floor wildly. With a whirr and the sound of hydraulics, the BRD-01 struggled to push itself to its feet. Once upright, BN-12's boxy head looking around for....it wasn't sure. When it reached for the A858 "Volt" directed energy submachine gun, it noticed two things: one, its weapon was missing; and two, so was its right arm.
Being of a more primitive programming, it stumbled forward on disused leg actuators, a rusty clank grinding against its audio receptors. Again and again, it tried linking to the ship's mainframe. Again and again, it failed, but never stopped trying. The reason was because the older SPECTRE had expired comsec keys, so the encryptions of the White Death simply ignored the machine.
Moments later, it detected two lifeforms, and upon seeing them, ignored them as noncombatants. It carried on, walking between them both towards an unknown goal.
Rin was determined to see what was wrong- the smell of blood was there, sharp like everything else was. He’d gotten used to ignoring his discomforts regarding light and smell- but this he couldn’t ignore.
Unfortunately, Vaxur was always good at forcing him to take care of himself.
“I promise we’ll visit him first thing tomorrow,” he said. He placed a hand on the dip between Rin’s neck and shoulder, softly shushing his protests. “Rin, you need sleep. C’mon, you won’t be any good to anyone like this.” He took his wrist and squeezed. “Please?”
He stared straight at him, gaze never wavering, even when Rin finally flushed, looking away with a sulky pout and a mumbled “fine.” He just squeezed his shoulder and smiled.
Off they went, back to the little scout ship Vaxur and Commander Wyr had been on. He smiled as Wyr finally had a turn in holding Rin, her small teammate stumbling into her arms before muttering about taking a short nap. She waved him off, knowing that he would want to talk to the leader of their new allies once again in order to further establish good relations.
He nodded and left, feeling lighter in the knowledge that Rin was in good hands. Commander Wyr, being their leader, would have gone with him.
But family came first.
He met Ty just as he was wondering what turn to make. “Ah, well,” Vaxur said, scratching the back of his head. “Right now I think we’ll have a rest. It’s been quite a day.” He tilted his head, giving a friendly concerned look. “I think everyone should.”
Unfortunately, Vaxur was always good at forcing him to take care of himself.
“I promise we’ll visit him first thing tomorrow,” he said. He placed a hand on the dip between Rin’s neck and shoulder, softly shushing his protests. “Rin, you need sleep. C’mon, you won’t be any good to anyone like this.” He took his wrist and squeezed. “Please?”
He stared straight at him, gaze never wavering, even when Rin finally flushed, looking away with a sulky pout and a mumbled “fine.” He just squeezed his shoulder and smiled.
Off they went, back to the little scout ship Vaxur and Commander Wyr had been on. He smiled as Wyr finally had a turn in holding Rin, her small teammate stumbling into her arms before muttering about taking a short nap. She waved him off, knowing that he would want to talk to the leader of their new allies once again in order to further establish good relations.
He nodded and left, feeling lighter in the knowledge that Rin was in good hands. Commander Wyr, being their leader, would have gone with him.
But family came first.
He met Ty just as he was wondering what turn to make. “Ah, well,” Vaxur said, scratching the back of his head. “Right now I think we’ll have a rest. It’s been quite a day.” He tilted his head, giving a friendly concerned look. “I think everyone should.”
White Death
For the slime onboard, Dietrich has always the habit in replicating herself. However the slime needed fluid to do a straight up copy, but it still was able to detach a piece of herself even though it maybe quiet small in the beginning, just in case something goes completely wrong. The tiny slime ball that came off of Dietrich mostly kept itself roving around in the inside of the ship, collecting water from condensation from the pipes on the ship and what little humidity there is. In thier travels thus far the little slime became the size of a very malleable soccer ball, squeezing itself between cervices and small ducts within the between hulls of the ship, looking for more water and a little bit of heat, but not too hot so the engine compartment was out of the question. Soon the blue ball of slime would make its way over into the cargo bay area were it sensed not only a bit of heat but also some kind of liquid. It would soon position itself right over the stowaway who's bleeding within the crevice. Once in position it would then try to drop itself right onto the stowaway's bleeding arm, being attached to it as it absorbed the blood. If successful it would merely stay on the arm, acting as a seal from the outside as the slime ball began to absorb the blood till the blood clots begin to stop the bleeding. As the blood was being absorbed, the blue slime ball would begin to change a different color, more specifically into the color purple as the blue mixes with the red, as the ball slowly increases in size.
If it didn't get to it's target, it would harmlessly splat on the floor and begin to absorb some of the blood that was on the ground after it returned back into being a ball of slime instead of some kind of snot blown on the floor.
Ellen saw that Dietrich seemed to be entertaining herself from the coloring books which was good for Ellen since now she can walk around and stretch her eight legs. As she walks around, she heads towards the cockpit and see's that Kovac's was no where to be found. Ellen merely shrugged as she began to go through some of the computers that she can access to so she can become better acquainted with the ship and its functions.
For the slime onboard, Dietrich has always the habit in replicating herself. However the slime needed fluid to do a straight up copy, but it still was able to detach a piece of herself even though it maybe quiet small in the beginning, just in case something goes completely wrong. The tiny slime ball that came off of Dietrich mostly kept itself roving around in the inside of the ship, collecting water from condensation from the pipes on the ship and what little humidity there is. In thier travels thus far the little slime became the size of a very malleable soccer ball, squeezing itself between cervices and small ducts within the between hulls of the ship, looking for more water and a little bit of heat, but not too hot so the engine compartment was out of the question. Soon the blue ball of slime would make its way over into the cargo bay area were it sensed not only a bit of heat but also some kind of liquid. It would soon position itself right over the stowaway who's bleeding within the crevice. Once in position it would then try to drop itself right onto the stowaway's bleeding arm, being attached to it as it absorbed the blood. If successful it would merely stay on the arm, acting as a seal from the outside as the slime ball began to absorb the blood till the blood clots begin to stop the bleeding. As the blood was being absorbed, the blue slime ball would begin to change a different color, more specifically into the color purple as the blue mixes with the red, as the ball slowly increases in size.
If it didn't get to it's target, it would harmlessly splat on the floor and begin to absorb some of the blood that was on the ground after it returned back into being a ball of slime instead of some kind of snot blown on the floor.
Ellen saw that Dietrich seemed to be entertaining herself from the coloring books which was good for Ellen since now she can walk around and stretch her eight legs. As she walks around, she heads towards the cockpit and see's that Kovac's was no where to be found. Ellen merely shrugged as she began to go through some of the computers that she can access to so she can become better acquainted with the ship and its functions.
The Diplomat - Tora Station
The other ships outside the wide, frontal window of C-Ship Diplomat hung and moved around them like so many giant fish, all in vastly different shapes and styles. They moved slowly, gradually, carefully, with the density increasing as they grew nearer to the station. It was surreal, especially to one who had never seen this otherwise commonplace sight. A bulbous, bright lime-green thing floated lazily by, dodging slowly beneath a great, polygonal structure of gunmetal grey. A tiny school of little white pods glided by, tailed by a couple of boxy things with lattice-like protrusions. As the Diplomat turned to circumvent a collection of silvery spheres connected by thin tubes, what must have been a very large, elongated ship that was very far away came into view, the relative size and distance only evident from the spread of other, closer ships that moved along on their ways.
Roy navigated the reef of other ships effortlessly, and as they grew closer to the magnificent structure, its’ true size and breadth became more and more apparent. It was like standing at the base of a very tall building and looking straight up. But the disorienting moment would be brief and mild, with the entryway coming into view shortly after. Inset into the grey and white surface was a translucent panel of dark blue, through which many small ships were passing harmlessly in and out of. Beyond that apparently permeable, blue-tinted window could be seen a very large, mostly white chamber. On the outside, a series of numbers were printed that laid out the dimensions of clearance - or, at least, there were lot of numbers and symbols that looked like that sort of thing.
Roy brought the ship to an easy halt then, allowing for several other, smaller vessels to pass through. Following that brief pause, she proceeded through the blueish barrier, apparently only just meeting the clearance requirements - any larger of a ship, and they would not have fit in that particular entry. The images on several monitors which depicted views from either side of the vessel illustrated the closeness of the approach, but Roy was not concerned, merely glancing at them to insure she wasn’t scraping the sides.
There was no sensation as they passed through the blue barrier, and it did not permeate the walls of the ship itself. Inside, the expansive chamber was some double in height than the entryway. It was brightly lit, with shelves lining the walls upon which were parked all manner of small craft. People could be seen walking about on them, as well as down below on the main floor level - upon which the larger ships were parked. Craning her neck some, Roy glanced at monitors until locating a clearing large enough for them to claim, then proceeded with the delicate landing process. For that, she leaned forward some, focusing more intently until at last, there was the subtle sensation of coming into contact.
Poking at a few more controls and levering a few more pedals, there wasn notable sound or change as the ship shut itself down. Roy did look mildly concerned for a moment then, looking and feeling around the control board as if searching for something that should have been in plain sight - but it did not take long for her to find what she sought. Wit the press of a button, a small box popped up from within the console’s body. She opened it, revealing a red velvet lining that encased some kind of bulky wristwatch.
And, upon seeing it, Roy’s eyes widened just a little bit, a fleeting spark to them that hinted at something approaching delight. It was the same expression she had made upon first laying eyes on the Diplomat. Suppressing her reverence, she picked the thing up and proceeded to secure it around her wrist by the simple buckle.
It was a wide, rich leather cuff upon which some kind of touchscreen was mounted. It did not look nearly so bulky once it was actually worn, curving with the contour of the wrist. She watched it expectantly or a beat, blinking - and again, the enigmatic fascination glimmered in her emerald eyes as the screen flickered to life, revealing a shallow holographic display in shades of blue. On - or, rather, in it was that lopsided GE emblem and, in elegant lettering, the word ’Diplomat’, followed in a much smaller, more utilitarian font by ’Welcome, Capitan. Then, the screen cleared, and a whole bunch of incomprehensible things appeared instead. Roy studied this too for a moment, appeared satisfied, then closed the box and allowed it to again hide within the body of the control console.
When Christofer asked his question, she responded promptly with an affirmatory ”Mmhm.” That was almost cheerful - or, at least, almost what constituted ‘cheerful’ for the stony young woman.
Now, it seemed, they were ready to go. She stood, spun on a heel, and started for the door, giving Christofer a follow-me nod, with hands in pockets. She headed down the corridor, back into that open, carpeted room with the grand staircase, the bloodied couch (Which she pointedly ignored) and the faux-fireplace. ”I think you’ll like it here. Stations within Imperial borders are usually kept very well.” She said, along the way. Then it was out the double airlock-doors - the innermost of which was, of course, wood panelled. Stepping down from the Diplomat was not unlike dismounting a front porch. Poking at her fancy new wrist-thing, the doors shut behind them, and she took a moment to stand back and admire the majestic ship.
It was definitely the largest thing in the hangar. The size of it was comparable to a large state house, befitting the interior. (Insignificant in comparison to most full-fledged starships, but looking very large compared to all the landing craft and other small vessels in the hangar.) It was bulky, yet sleek, mostly painted a pearly white with black accents. And across the main body was the old, asymmetrical GE logo and the ebon-printed letters of DIPLOMAT.
Very clearly, Royanna was in awe of it - if in her usual, severely muted way.
Overhead, several smaller ships floated by, some with lights on their undersides, some humming unobtrusively, but none making any particularly loud noise. It gave what might have been an otherwise chaotic place an air of relative tranquility.
”Alright,” She concluded after that brief moment of appreciation, which was doubtless disguised as a simple checking-over of the ship’s security - ”Let’s go find something to eat.”
Boat Qetan U Koolest Know Scout The
Ty blinked, and flushed ever so slightly. There he went again - constant attempts at being suave and totally in-control faltering just a little as inoffensive, but stupid things came out of his mouth.
It was pretty obvious that they were all going to get some sleep. It was an idiotic question-
But he didn’t let it get to him. Ty wasn’t so hard on himself as to really dwell on the embarrassing little moments, however frequent they seemed to be.
”Uh- yes, that’s definitely a good plan.” He said, nodding as if it was exactly what he had already been thinking. Granted, it was - in a way. He just really loathed coming off awkward.
”We got spare rooms, if you want!” Sands said from down the hall, speaking only loud enough to be heard. ”I’ll hang out here tonight and switch off with Jet.” Glancing to Jackson, he added ”We’ll play cards or something. Better than just sitting here.”
Accepting this, Ty nodded. ”And Dal will probably spend the night with E’tzu. I’ll stay in the pilot’s berth and make sure there’s no problems…” then, with the ghost of a chuckle, he muttered ”That makes enough free beds to give our closet-pals a room.”
”Yeah, except the only reason we haven’t already plugged those two @#$%heads in the face is ‘cause of Rai.” Sands piped up, a bite to his voice. Ty nodded to this. ”True. I suppose they should be grateful for the closet… Sleep well, Vaxur. Hopefully tomorrow will not be such a tough day.” Concluding with a faint smile, Ty made his way to the control room, leaving the others to their devices.
The night would proceed relatively smoothly. Dozing in the pilot’s berth, Ty kept just alert enough to be awoken by potential warnings, of which there were none. Sands stayed with Jet, chatting or playing with a deck of holo-cards, switching ‘door-duty’ if one or the other got tired or uncomfortable. Dal did not leave the medbay, sitting and nodding off next to Tsuan’s cot. Some hours into the night, there was a muffled cry from that direction, accompanied by a couple of panicky curses - not loud enough to wake the whole ship however, and anyone who did hear would know exactly what it was. Given that the stricken exclamations wore down hastily, it could be assumed that Dal sufficiently comforted the man upon his sudden realization of lacking an appendage - that, or she had sedated him. However, the fact that she would wake up the next morning in an awkward and uncomfortable position, half sitting on the bed and half leaning against the wall, would have suggest otherwise to anyone who happened to peek in.
And, unless something else disturbed the peace, morning would come quickly enough. Most folks would be right where they had been all night, seeing no need to wake their guests…
The White Death
She realized dimly at first, and then with a staggering clarity - it didn’t matter how far she had gotten from the blown access panels - she had left a trail, A surge of urgency struck her with significant voltage. She needed to move-
She had managed to find the bandage. There was less than she remembered - the fact that she had used most of it already on other wounds was irrelevant information which would fail to enter her mind at all. There was one meager strip. Enough to fashion a crude tourniquet, if she tied it tight enough.
Except now, there would be no time. Now, she was certain that someone was going to be on top of her any minute-
She was right.
In the same instant, she saw him - a middle-aged soldier-type, prowling the cargo bay, following that blatant, stupid trail. Still gripping one of the bandage in her hand and the other clenched between her teeth, she met his eyes, glaring daggers. A hateful, defiant glare. A furious spite that dared him to come closer and finish the job.
It was a girl, maybe twenty years old, but small enough that she might have been several years younger. Bright red hair was a filthy, tufty mess. Old-fashioned military fatigues hung unbefitting on her, with tears and bloodstains, and a cacophony of dirt, grime and other various filth that came with crawling through the average urban-jungle warzone.
That instant seemed to last an eternity. Her steely grey eyes bore into his, her dirty, blood-crusted face snarling with the ferocity of a cornered, rabid animal.
And then, out of nowhere, the eternal moment was interrupted...When a glob of blue slime plopped down from above and promptly latched onto her wounded arm.
The girl yelped, cried out in something between feral rage and incredulous terror, flailing wildly to one side in a frantic effort to claw it off. It was futile - the slime merely slipped through her gloved fingers, adhering around her arm like some kind of insane hot glue as she watched in mounting horror. The fact that it was staunching the blood flow did not cross her mind - only that a foreign, and clearly living…thing had attached itself to her and was refusing to let go. If she hadn’t already been freaking out, the minor detail of its gruesome color change would have been more impactful as well - but she had only given an instant to that struggle.
Having scrambled to her feet and instinctively rammed her shoulder into the nearest wall in yet another futile attempt at bashing it off, it was only then that she remembered the man - who had probably had time to sprint at her while she was hopelessly flailing. Wild eyes shot back in his direction, and she forgot about the slime thing just long enough to make one final, mad dash...anywhere - but it seemed unlikely that she would get very far...
The other ships outside the wide, frontal window of C-Ship Diplomat hung and moved around them like so many giant fish, all in vastly different shapes and styles. They moved slowly, gradually, carefully, with the density increasing as they grew nearer to the station. It was surreal, especially to one who had never seen this otherwise commonplace sight. A bulbous, bright lime-green thing floated lazily by, dodging slowly beneath a great, polygonal structure of gunmetal grey. A tiny school of little white pods glided by, tailed by a couple of boxy things with lattice-like protrusions. As the Diplomat turned to circumvent a collection of silvery spheres connected by thin tubes, what must have been a very large, elongated ship that was very far away came into view, the relative size and distance only evident from the spread of other, closer ships that moved along on their ways.
Roy navigated the reef of other ships effortlessly, and as they grew closer to the magnificent structure, its’ true size and breadth became more and more apparent. It was like standing at the base of a very tall building and looking straight up. But the disorienting moment would be brief and mild, with the entryway coming into view shortly after. Inset into the grey and white surface was a translucent panel of dark blue, through which many small ships were passing harmlessly in and out of. Beyond that apparently permeable, blue-tinted window could be seen a very large, mostly white chamber. On the outside, a series of numbers were printed that laid out the dimensions of clearance - or, at least, there were lot of numbers and symbols that looked like that sort of thing.
Roy brought the ship to an easy halt then, allowing for several other, smaller vessels to pass through. Following that brief pause, she proceeded through the blueish barrier, apparently only just meeting the clearance requirements - any larger of a ship, and they would not have fit in that particular entry. The images on several monitors which depicted views from either side of the vessel illustrated the closeness of the approach, but Roy was not concerned, merely glancing at them to insure she wasn’t scraping the sides.
There was no sensation as they passed through the blue barrier, and it did not permeate the walls of the ship itself. Inside, the expansive chamber was some double in height than the entryway. It was brightly lit, with shelves lining the walls upon which were parked all manner of small craft. People could be seen walking about on them, as well as down below on the main floor level - upon which the larger ships were parked. Craning her neck some, Roy glanced at monitors until locating a clearing large enough for them to claim, then proceeded with the delicate landing process. For that, she leaned forward some, focusing more intently until at last, there was the subtle sensation of coming into contact.
Poking at a few more controls and levering a few more pedals, there wasn notable sound or change as the ship shut itself down. Roy did look mildly concerned for a moment then, looking and feeling around the control board as if searching for something that should have been in plain sight - but it did not take long for her to find what she sought. Wit the press of a button, a small box popped up from within the console’s body. She opened it, revealing a red velvet lining that encased some kind of bulky wristwatch.
And, upon seeing it, Roy’s eyes widened just a little bit, a fleeting spark to them that hinted at something approaching delight. It was the same expression she had made upon first laying eyes on the Diplomat. Suppressing her reverence, she picked the thing up and proceeded to secure it around her wrist by the simple buckle.
It was a wide, rich leather cuff upon which some kind of touchscreen was mounted. It did not look nearly so bulky once it was actually worn, curving with the contour of the wrist. She watched it expectantly or a beat, blinking - and again, the enigmatic fascination glimmered in her emerald eyes as the screen flickered to life, revealing a shallow holographic display in shades of blue. On - or, rather, in it was that lopsided GE emblem and, in elegant lettering, the word ’Diplomat’, followed in a much smaller, more utilitarian font by ’Welcome, Capitan. Then, the screen cleared, and a whole bunch of incomprehensible things appeared instead. Roy studied this too for a moment, appeared satisfied, then closed the box and allowed it to again hide within the body of the control console.
When Christofer asked his question, she responded promptly with an affirmatory ”Mmhm.” That was almost cheerful - or, at least, almost what constituted ‘cheerful’ for the stony young woman.
Now, it seemed, they were ready to go. She stood, spun on a heel, and started for the door, giving Christofer a follow-me nod, with hands in pockets. She headed down the corridor, back into that open, carpeted room with the grand staircase, the bloodied couch (Which she pointedly ignored) and the faux-fireplace. ”I think you’ll like it here. Stations within Imperial borders are usually kept very well.” She said, along the way. Then it was out the double airlock-doors - the innermost of which was, of course, wood panelled. Stepping down from the Diplomat was not unlike dismounting a front porch. Poking at her fancy new wrist-thing, the doors shut behind them, and she took a moment to stand back and admire the majestic ship.
It was definitely the largest thing in the hangar. The size of it was comparable to a large state house, befitting the interior. (Insignificant in comparison to most full-fledged starships, but looking very large compared to all the landing craft and other small vessels in the hangar.) It was bulky, yet sleek, mostly painted a pearly white with black accents. And across the main body was the old, asymmetrical GE logo and the ebon-printed letters of DIPLOMAT.
Very clearly, Royanna was in awe of it - if in her usual, severely muted way.
Overhead, several smaller ships floated by, some with lights on their undersides, some humming unobtrusively, but none making any particularly loud noise. It gave what might have been an otherwise chaotic place an air of relative tranquility.
”Alright,” She concluded after that brief moment of appreciation, which was doubtless disguised as a simple checking-over of the ship’s security - ”Let’s go find something to eat.”
Boat Qetan U Koolest Know Scout The
Ty blinked, and flushed ever so slightly. There he went again - constant attempts at being suave and totally in-control faltering just a little as inoffensive, but stupid things came out of his mouth.
It was pretty obvious that they were all going to get some sleep. It was an idiotic question-
But he didn’t let it get to him. Ty wasn’t so hard on himself as to really dwell on the embarrassing little moments, however frequent they seemed to be.
”Uh- yes, that’s definitely a good plan.” He said, nodding as if it was exactly what he had already been thinking. Granted, it was - in a way. He just really loathed coming off awkward.
”We got spare rooms, if you want!” Sands said from down the hall, speaking only loud enough to be heard. ”I’ll hang out here tonight and switch off with Jet.” Glancing to Jackson, he added ”We’ll play cards or something. Better than just sitting here.”
Accepting this, Ty nodded. ”And Dal will probably spend the night with E’tzu. I’ll stay in the pilot’s berth and make sure there’s no problems…” then, with the ghost of a chuckle, he muttered ”That makes enough free beds to give our closet-pals a room.”
”Yeah, except the only reason we haven’t already plugged those two @#$%heads in the face is ‘cause of Rai.” Sands piped up, a bite to his voice. Ty nodded to this. ”True. I suppose they should be grateful for the closet… Sleep well, Vaxur. Hopefully tomorrow will not be such a tough day.” Concluding with a faint smile, Ty made his way to the control room, leaving the others to their devices.
The night would proceed relatively smoothly. Dozing in the pilot’s berth, Ty kept just alert enough to be awoken by potential warnings, of which there were none. Sands stayed with Jet, chatting or playing with a deck of holo-cards, switching ‘door-duty’ if one or the other got tired or uncomfortable. Dal did not leave the medbay, sitting and nodding off next to Tsuan’s cot. Some hours into the night, there was a muffled cry from that direction, accompanied by a couple of panicky curses - not loud enough to wake the whole ship however, and anyone who did hear would know exactly what it was. Given that the stricken exclamations wore down hastily, it could be assumed that Dal sufficiently comforted the man upon his sudden realization of lacking an appendage - that, or she had sedated him. However, the fact that she would wake up the next morning in an awkward and uncomfortable position, half sitting on the bed and half leaning against the wall, would have suggest otherwise to anyone who happened to peek in.
And, unless something else disturbed the peace, morning would come quickly enough. Most folks would be right where they had been all night, seeing no need to wake their guests…
The White Death
She realized dimly at first, and then with a staggering clarity - it didn’t matter how far she had gotten from the blown access panels - she had left a trail, A surge of urgency struck her with significant voltage. She needed to move-
She had managed to find the bandage. There was less than she remembered - the fact that she had used most of it already on other wounds was irrelevant information which would fail to enter her mind at all. There was one meager strip. Enough to fashion a crude tourniquet, if she tied it tight enough.
Except now, there would be no time. Now, she was certain that someone was going to be on top of her any minute-
She was right.
In the same instant, she saw him - a middle-aged soldier-type, prowling the cargo bay, following that blatant, stupid trail. Still gripping one of the bandage in her hand and the other clenched between her teeth, she met his eyes, glaring daggers. A hateful, defiant glare. A furious spite that dared him to come closer and finish the job.
It was a girl, maybe twenty years old, but small enough that she might have been several years younger. Bright red hair was a filthy, tufty mess. Old-fashioned military fatigues hung unbefitting on her, with tears and bloodstains, and a cacophony of dirt, grime and other various filth that came with crawling through the average urban-jungle warzone.That instant seemed to last an eternity. Her steely grey eyes bore into his, her dirty, blood-crusted face snarling with the ferocity of a cornered, rabid animal.
And then, out of nowhere, the eternal moment was interrupted...When a glob of blue slime plopped down from above and promptly latched onto her wounded arm.
The girl yelped, cried out in something between feral rage and incredulous terror, flailing wildly to one side in a frantic effort to claw it off. It was futile - the slime merely slipped through her gloved fingers, adhering around her arm like some kind of insane hot glue as she watched in mounting horror. The fact that it was staunching the blood flow did not cross her mind - only that a foreign, and clearly living…thing had attached itself to her and was refusing to let go. If she hadn’t already been freaking out, the minor detail of its gruesome color change would have been more impactful as well - but she had only given an instant to that struggle.
Having scrambled to her feet and instinctively rammed her shoulder into the nearest wall in yet another futile attempt at bashing it off, it was only then that she remembered the man - who had probably had time to sprint at her while she was hopelessly flailing. Wild eyes shot back in his direction, and she forgot about the slime thing just long enough to make one final, mad dash...anywhere - but it seemed unlikely that she would get very far...
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