Kampferian Battleship
Maria just shakes her head seeing how either dense or daft the dragon lady is. "Well I don't exactly command an army or a fleet...after what happened that I became like this as well as the lost of my mother when I was born...he definitely was a father trying to protect daddy's little girl" as she looks around the room, before looking back at Illya. "I guess he still see's me as that little girl" as she chuckles to herself a little more. "What you just named out is exactly why people are a afraid of me. I was gonna use a metaphor on you, but you would just idolize over me again" as she spun the knife around in hand. "A movie? I hadn't known I was famous, next thing you are gonna tell me is that they have action figures of me too" as she laughs as she goes to get Illya's hand place it on the ground flat and fingers as wide as they can be.
"Okay, Illya, just keep your hand like how it is and don't move it okay?" she asks her as she twirls the large Bowie knife in her hand begins the knife game. She slams the tip of the knife upon the ground hard between her fingers as she sang
Oh, I have all my fingers
The knife goes chop chop chop
If I miss the spaces in-between my fingers will come off
And if I hit my fingers
The blood will soon come out
But all the same I play this game cause that's what it's all about
Oh, chop chop chop chop chop chop
I'm picking up the speed
And if I hit my fingers then my hand will start to bleed
As she sang she went faster and faster at a break neck speed and by the end of her little tune, she slams the knife down in front of her hand, causing the knife to stick up from the floor. "That is the knife game" she states as she straightens up as she looks at the dragon-kin.
However peaceful times has ended as the ship rocks to one side causing Maria and possibly IIlyia to be thrown into the opposite end of the prison cell. Recovering the bounty hunter exclaims "Dammit! Something hit us harder than a stallions kick when he's a mare!" as she got up went for the door of the prison cell. She had no patience in opening the door and so instead she just kicks the damn thing, causing it fly into another wall where it sticks. She rushes over to the control panel to see what was happening. She gritted her teeth as she saw the status being "Omega-5" meaning that a Dendril cruiser just rammed itself onto the battleship. "Shit! This isn't good! Illyia were heading out! The Dendrils have rammed the ship and if the crew can't get rid of them in a certain amount of time then the self-destruct sequence activates and we all go down like it was a new galactic age!" as she gestures her to get up and get moving as she goes to grip her cloak and hat.
She dashes for the door so she can make her way into the hallway to head to the hanger by and find a ship to escape in. When it came to the cash site back on the moon, the crew was mostly concerned with Maria's safety and within haste left Illyia's ship alone to be forgotten as ship and the rest of the fleet had already jumped out of the system into another one were now a dendril ship and its crew and contents now threaten to take over the ship.
Maria just shakes her head seeing how either dense or daft the dragon lady is. "Well I don't exactly command an army or a fleet...after what happened that I became like this as well as the lost of my mother when I was born...he definitely was a father trying to protect daddy's little girl" as she looks around the room, before looking back at Illya. "I guess he still see's me as that little girl" as she chuckles to herself a little more. "What you just named out is exactly why people are a afraid of me. I was gonna use a metaphor on you, but you would just idolize over me again" as she spun the knife around in hand. "A movie? I hadn't known I was famous, next thing you are gonna tell me is that they have action figures of me too" as she laughs as she goes to get Illya's hand place it on the ground flat and fingers as wide as they can be.
"Okay, Illya, just keep your hand like how it is and don't move it okay?" she asks her as she twirls the large Bowie knife in her hand begins the knife game. She slams the tip of the knife upon the ground hard between her fingers as she sang
Oh, I have all my fingers
The knife goes chop chop chop
If I miss the spaces in-between my fingers will come off
And if I hit my fingers
The blood will soon come out
But all the same I play this game cause that's what it's all about
Oh, chop chop chop chop chop chop
I'm picking up the speed
And if I hit my fingers then my hand will start to bleed
As she sang she went faster and faster at a break neck speed and by the end of her little tune, she slams the knife down in front of her hand, causing the knife to stick up from the floor. "That is the knife game" she states as she straightens up as she looks at the dragon-kin.
However peaceful times has ended as the ship rocks to one side causing Maria and possibly IIlyia to be thrown into the opposite end of the prison cell. Recovering the bounty hunter exclaims "Dammit! Something hit us harder than a stallions kick when he's a mare!" as she got up went for the door of the prison cell. She had no patience in opening the door and so instead she just kicks the damn thing, causing it fly into another wall where it sticks. She rushes over to the control panel to see what was happening. She gritted her teeth as she saw the status being "Omega-5" meaning that a Dendril cruiser just rammed itself onto the battleship. "Shit! This isn't good! Illyia were heading out! The Dendrils have rammed the ship and if the crew can't get rid of them in a certain amount of time then the self-destruct sequence activates and we all go down like it was a new galactic age!" as she gestures her to get up and get moving as she goes to grip her cloak and hat.
She dashes for the door so she can make her way into the hallway to head to the hanger by and find a ship to escape in. When it came to the cash site back on the moon, the crew was mostly concerned with Maria's safety and within haste left Illyia's ship alone to be forgotten as ship and the rest of the fleet had already jumped out of the system into another one were now a dendril ship and its crew and contents now threaten to take over the ship.
Cornfield
The sudden loss of control that Ty had displayed was, Rin thought, somewhat inevitable- not that he was looking for it- but that he expected it. The string of absurd events that led up to this moment, this unknown still, this eye of the metaphorical storm- made a break of control all the more freeing.
He was glad of this respite. He wondered how Ty could so readily give himself to a rational calm- one he himself often failed to achieve, and instead passed off as a cold, antisocial attitude. He more than ever saw Commander Wyr in Ty- the level head, the warm presence that demanded respect- and was all the more glad for it.
And yet, he knew the Commander was not always the solid ground of their little group. Sometimes, the tension would be too much.
Commander Wyr would prowl about the base like a predator at especially bad missions. She would pounce, wreaking havoc and terror at unsuspecting crew- stare them down like they were animals, then slink away. Sometimes, he and Vaxur would carve themselves a safe space in one of their rooms, huddling and whispering whether she would finally eat someone that deserved to be hunted in such a manner, Vaxur half-jokingly and Rin half-seriously.
He was glad that this break of control did not come from frustration built up quite so long- that the wrathful energy was released through the stone that flew through the air, that was instantly absorbed by the remains of the ship, by the planted corn. He did not want to think of what Ty would be like if- well. If he would react, perhaps, like the Commander.
Yes, it was good to just let go for a second.
”No, I’m pretty sore all over but thankfully undamaged...I think. What about you?”
Rin gingerly shifted. His ankle did not give a sharp stab of pain like he expected, but a dull throb. He frowned, turning to look at him. “I’m fine.”
Ty looked at him. He held his stare, knowing that Ty knew that he was lying- at least partially- but not pushing it. He sighed inaudibly as Ty nodded.
He watched as the other man got up, somewhat stiffly, but- as he said- undamaged. Only sore. He got up too, only vaguely aware that his injury seemed to- numb? More the longer time passed- and waited as Ty climbed over the wreck and looked around.
The dull worry that permeated from the Hi’tzen’s features did not spell any good news.
”No sign of the rest of the ship…But it looks like there is some kind of...village or settlement a few miles east.”
Rin nodded, turning to the direction of the village. Before he could take another step, he heard Ty speak again.
”If you need to rest, rest.” Ty looked at him as he went over toward a row of cornstalks. ”Better to go slow than risk worsening injury. I have a bad feeling that we may be very far from modern medicine.”
Rin followed after him, hardly a limp hindering his walk. “I’m fine,” he said, obstinately insistent. “I-“ he suddenly stopped mid-sentence. There was brief moment of silence- almost awkward- before he cleared his throat. “Let’s just go,” he said, a little quieter. If Ty looked back, he would only see Rin’s head, bowed to the floor. Resolutely not looking at anything.
He would not see that brief moment of shock and bewilderment, at the thing that made Rin’s words die at his throat. The thing being the state of his arm. For underneath the blood and streaks of dirt, at where there once was an ugly gash-
Was clear, unbroken skin.
Swamp
”If we’re okay, the others probably are too. We just have to find them.”
Rai looked around the swampy grounds and shuddered. Though ze knew that ze wasn’t there- in that place of foggy awareness and predatory croaks and malicious intent lining each limp vine- ze still couldn’t help but remember how it felt to be in that Koska-forsaken planet.
The only reason ze had been in Brahmir was because Tahil had apparently needed several ingredients from there. She seemed to be right at home there, and the residents…
Well. They loved her, her thirst for knowledge- their knowledge, in dangerous chemicals and illusionary tricks. Reqti, though stoic and visibly uncomfortable, remained with her, setting himself apart from the mostly female residents. Rai had to leave after an hour of hir spying.
Ze was shaken out of hir thoughts by Sands.
”Toward the ocean then, I guess? Unless either of you have better ideas.”
Reqti turned his head toward the salty air- for ze could smell it, now, the sharp scent of salt and water in motion.
The two Kiinris exchanged a single glance, then nodded in tandem. They both knew that following the path of a major landmark would eventually help them locate where they were… that is, if a map or kind guide came along.
To the ocean it was.
City
As soon as the shout was over- and Man, that guy wasn’t screwing around- he scooted over to where Dal had landed, looking over her for anything broken. Upon seeing nothing- perhaps a bruise or two- he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Man, this day just keeps getting better and better, huh?”
He followed the tough woman up to look over the hatch- and gaped at the bloody chaos. “What the £&€¥,” he said softly.
”Uh, yeah I think we better get the @#$% outta’ here.” He heard Dal say, nearly shouting. Uh, yeah, no £&€¥ing kidding-
“Indeed,” Commander Wyr said, and he turned and nearly sighed in relief at the majestic image of his superior glorious against the blue sky, a dangerous 7-foot figure of black and grey and green, and glowing blue eyes.
And a sulking female Qetan, but he paid no real attention to her.
“Quickly now, Sergeant,” she said, and he straightened up, saluting.
“Yes ma’am!”
The sudden loss of control that Ty had displayed was, Rin thought, somewhat inevitable- not that he was looking for it- but that he expected it. The string of absurd events that led up to this moment, this unknown still, this eye of the metaphorical storm- made a break of control all the more freeing.
He was glad of this respite. He wondered how Ty could so readily give himself to a rational calm- one he himself often failed to achieve, and instead passed off as a cold, antisocial attitude. He more than ever saw Commander Wyr in Ty- the level head, the warm presence that demanded respect- and was all the more glad for it.
And yet, he knew the Commander was not always the solid ground of their little group. Sometimes, the tension would be too much.
Commander Wyr would prowl about the base like a predator at especially bad missions. She would pounce, wreaking havoc and terror at unsuspecting crew- stare them down like they were animals, then slink away. Sometimes, he and Vaxur would carve themselves a safe space in one of their rooms, huddling and whispering whether she would finally eat someone that deserved to be hunted in such a manner, Vaxur half-jokingly and Rin half-seriously.
He was glad that this break of control did not come from frustration built up quite so long- that the wrathful energy was released through the stone that flew through the air, that was instantly absorbed by the remains of the ship, by the planted corn. He did not want to think of what Ty would be like if- well. If he would react, perhaps, like the Commander.
Yes, it was good to just let go for a second.
”No, I’m pretty sore all over but thankfully undamaged...I think. What about you?”
Rin gingerly shifted. His ankle did not give a sharp stab of pain like he expected, but a dull throb. He frowned, turning to look at him. “I’m fine.”
Ty looked at him. He held his stare, knowing that Ty knew that he was lying- at least partially- but not pushing it. He sighed inaudibly as Ty nodded.
He watched as the other man got up, somewhat stiffly, but- as he said- undamaged. Only sore. He got up too, only vaguely aware that his injury seemed to- numb? More the longer time passed- and waited as Ty climbed over the wreck and looked around.
The dull worry that permeated from the Hi’tzen’s features did not spell any good news.
”No sign of the rest of the ship…But it looks like there is some kind of...village or settlement a few miles east.”
Rin nodded, turning to the direction of the village. Before he could take another step, he heard Ty speak again.
”If you need to rest, rest.” Ty looked at him as he went over toward a row of cornstalks. ”Better to go slow than risk worsening injury. I have a bad feeling that we may be very far from modern medicine.”
Rin followed after him, hardly a limp hindering his walk. “I’m fine,” he said, obstinately insistent. “I-“ he suddenly stopped mid-sentence. There was brief moment of silence- almost awkward- before he cleared his throat. “Let’s just go,” he said, a little quieter. If Ty looked back, he would only see Rin’s head, bowed to the floor. Resolutely not looking at anything.
He would not see that brief moment of shock and bewilderment, at the thing that made Rin’s words die at his throat. The thing being the state of his arm. For underneath the blood and streaks of dirt, at where there once was an ugly gash-
Was clear, unbroken skin.
Swamp
”If we’re okay, the others probably are too. We just have to find them.”
Rai looked around the swampy grounds and shuddered. Though ze knew that ze wasn’t there- in that place of foggy awareness and predatory croaks and malicious intent lining each limp vine- ze still couldn’t help but remember how it felt to be in that Koska-forsaken planet.
The only reason ze had been in Brahmir was because Tahil had apparently needed several ingredients from there. She seemed to be right at home there, and the residents…
Well. They loved her, her thirst for knowledge- their knowledge, in dangerous chemicals and illusionary tricks. Reqti, though stoic and visibly uncomfortable, remained with her, setting himself apart from the mostly female residents. Rai had to leave after an hour of hir spying.
Ze was shaken out of hir thoughts by Sands.
”Toward the ocean then, I guess? Unless either of you have better ideas.”
Reqti turned his head toward the salty air- for ze could smell it, now, the sharp scent of salt and water in motion.
The two Kiinris exchanged a single glance, then nodded in tandem. They both knew that following the path of a major landmark would eventually help them locate where they were… that is, if a map or kind guide came along.
To the ocean it was.
City
As soon as the shout was over- and Man, that guy wasn’t screwing around- he scooted over to where Dal had landed, looking over her for anything broken. Upon seeing nothing- perhaps a bruise or two- he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Man, this day just keeps getting better and better, huh?”
He followed the tough woman up to look over the hatch- and gaped at the bloody chaos. “What the £&€¥,” he said softly.
”Uh, yeah I think we better get the @#$% outta’ here.” He heard Dal say, nearly shouting. Uh, yeah, no £&€¥ing kidding-
“Indeed,” Commander Wyr said, and he turned and nearly sighed in relief at the majestic image of his superior glorious against the blue sky, a dangerous 7-foot figure of black and grey and green, and glowing blue eyes.
And a sulking female Qetan, but he paid no real attention to her.
“Quickly now, Sergeant,” she said, and he straightened up, saluting.
“Yes ma’am!”
City
Kilwen bites his lip as he sees there reaction. He knew that peasants in general weren't very strong willed. "Maybe...one word of power would have been better" he says to himself as he see's the peasants killing each other and basically destroying there city. He looks around seeing majority of the crew on the ship were still around. Of course there were a few missing, but they needed to get out and plan on what to do next. Kilwen felt the nearby ocean breeze on his face and felt the direction in where it coming from. He looks at them and says "Alright, I know there is an ocean nearby, I head there and begin to plan on what to do. I'll make sure the peasants don't burn down there town and hopefully get help from the nearby castle" he as he looks at them with eyes that seethe confidence and seriousness as he points to to the direction of the ocean. "Go now!" he yells out at them as he rushes towards the town.
Once in the city he knew that the peasants weren't going to listen to a word he was gonna say and so he decided to lead by example. He rushes over to where he could get to a water well and begins to rope up buckets of water from the underground aquifer. He rushes over to thatch houses and begins to spray water upon the house's to drench them to prevent further damage as much as he could. He even resorted to getting into the house and hoisting out even if they didn't want to because of fear. He knew for peasants, words alone won't swayed them, but action should though as he weaved through them as they fought each other.
Kilwen bites his lip as he sees there reaction. He knew that peasants in general weren't very strong willed. "Maybe...one word of power would have been better" he says to himself as he see's the peasants killing each other and basically destroying there city. He looks around seeing majority of the crew on the ship were still around. Of course there were a few missing, but they needed to get out and plan on what to do next. Kilwen felt the nearby ocean breeze on his face and felt the direction in where it coming from. He looks at them and says "Alright, I know there is an ocean nearby, I head there and begin to plan on what to do. I'll make sure the peasants don't burn down there town and hopefully get help from the nearby castle" he as he looks at them with eyes that seethe confidence and seriousness as he points to to the direction of the ocean. "Go now!" he yells out at them as he rushes towards the town.
Once in the city he knew that the peasants weren't going to listen to a word he was gonna say and so he decided to lead by example. He rushes over to where he could get to a water well and begins to rope up buckets of water from the underground aquifer. He rushes over to thatch houses and begins to spray water upon the house's to drench them to prevent further damage as much as he could. He even resorted to getting into the house and hoisting out even if they didn't want to because of fear. He knew for peasants, words alone won't swayed them, but action should though as he weaved through them as they fought each other.
Beach
"Sie sind nicht tot, sondern ruhen sich aus, um dem Ruf des Vaterlandes noch einmal zu antworten"
Hearing the crashing waves, the man in a black ancient uniform showing only hints of its original color which was red. His unfiorm not only black, but also worn down and holes showing bone and grey rotten flesh underneath. His undershirt was in tatters, showing a bare rib-cage and a small purple ghostly light that blinked occasionally in where his heart should be. His right hand was a full skeletal, yet able to move as if muscle and skin were still on them. His other hand was still bounded to his old black leather glove which was in decent shape for being so old. His pants have holes still exposing very little of the grey flesh and bone on them while his cavalry boots where in good condition even though they were covered in ancient dirt and grime. His tricone hat was in good shape, but it too was covered in dirt and grime but not as much as his shoes though but like his shoes, its fused to his head. His face was covered by an old black scarf, showing only his eyes and grey skin. His eyes though showed age, but yet even though clearly looking like a corpse, his eyes were still alive and full of life even though being creepily red.
He hadn't remember how he got to the beach...all he remember was that he was on the plains of outside of Prague, fighting another army is where he had fallen. After such a long sleep, he walks up in another field, yet this field was not the field of Bohemia, but a different and very foreign land. He wandered around till he found the beach. As he looks down at his own predicament, he notices something new, his cavalry sword with its sheath looks new as well as his old rifle. They seem a bit futuristic for him yet the premise in how his new rifle worked was simple. All he had to do was pull back on the "flint" and then aim and pull trigger without to reload, but wait for a few seconds for it to recharge.
However even though figuring how his weapon works, he did nothing but sit upon the sandy beach and stare into the waves during the day as his eyes looked up seeing all the shooting stars go across the sky...not knowing they were starships. He kept perfectly still and even in the day time, his head was tilted downward as if asleep, but yet he wasn't though. He looked like an upright corpse who died upon the beach, however whoever approaches for a closer look they would quickly see a pair of haunting red eyes looking back at them...
"Sie sind nicht tot, sondern ruhen sich aus, um dem Ruf des Vaterlandes noch einmal zu antworten"
Hearing the crashing waves, the man in a black ancient uniform showing only hints of its original color which was red. His unfiorm not only black, but also worn down and holes showing bone and grey rotten flesh underneath. His undershirt was in tatters, showing a bare rib-cage and a small purple ghostly light that blinked occasionally in where his heart should be. His right hand was a full skeletal, yet able to move as if muscle and skin were still on them. His other hand was still bounded to his old black leather glove which was in decent shape for being so old. His pants have holes still exposing very little of the grey flesh and bone on them while his cavalry boots where in good condition even though they were covered in ancient dirt and grime. His tricone hat was in good shape, but it too was covered in dirt and grime but not as much as his shoes though but like his shoes, its fused to his head. His face was covered by an old black scarf, showing only his eyes and grey skin. His eyes though showed age, but yet even though clearly looking like a corpse, his eyes were still alive and full of life even though being creepily red.
He hadn't remember how he got to the beach...all he remember was that he was on the plains of outside of Prague, fighting another army is where he had fallen. After such a long sleep, he walks up in another field, yet this field was not the field of Bohemia, but a different and very foreign land. He wandered around till he found the beach. As he looks down at his own predicament, he notices something new, his cavalry sword with its sheath looks new as well as his old rifle. They seem a bit futuristic for him yet the premise in how his new rifle worked was simple. All he had to do was pull back on the "flint" and then aim and pull trigger without to reload, but wait for a few seconds for it to recharge.
However even though figuring how his weapon works, he did nothing but sit upon the sandy beach and stare into the waves during the day as his eyes looked up seeing all the shooting stars go across the sky...not knowing they were starships. He kept perfectly still and even in the day time, his head was tilted downward as if asleep, but yet he wasn't though. He looked like an upright corpse who died upon the beach, however whoever approaches for a closer look they would quickly see a pair of haunting red eyes looking back at them...
The Kingsbane
Outer Space
There is a point that must be emphasized at this moment. That would be the feeling of familiarity Severin was going through since the arrival of this alien 'Girl'. Starting from the very beginning, seeing the helplessness of someone suddenly plunged into a bellicose place; experiencing a heavy loss that made the old astrophysicist to question his own existence. And, at last, the clinging of someone which was just looking for shelter. Even if solely was emotional shelter.
Soon after the Girl took Severin on her anxious embrace, it was like the decades he spent studying the cosmos came crashing down in an instant. His subconscious recollected at one single point, akin to a singularity of knowledge. Right there. In a nanofractionary instant. However, before his human mind could even proccess that insightful bombardment, it was gone. As a souvenir, it left a spiking pain at the old man's head. A nasty, but otherwise uncommon headache.
Though one of his hands where at his aching head now, the Girl would not see the smile fading.
It didn't fade. It never will.
Nevertheless, there was something Severin was oblivious to. He had walked forward, standing between his working colleagues, each on opposite sides of the room. He stood mere inches away from the supposed gap where the room - or platform - ended, suspended over the large area on which the ominous structure was erected. He announced something, deviating his attention from the Girl clinging into his arm. Between his words, there was something that sounded very strangely familiar to his alien friend.
— ... Yellow emergency protocols... Previous coordinates... 'Earth' 6-D... Fracture...
Fracture.
Whenever he would mention it, The Girl would be reminded for the translated word on her language. So it did with the multiple meanings of Fracture.
Breakage. Division. Cracking. Wounding.
Splitting.
Was it paranoia induced from the White Barbarian's atrocities? Or was the old man secretly plotting Her surely permanent destruction? Was his smile truly genuine? Or was it an act? Merely to coax a prey of its hideout?
Fracture. There was a reason for the cultural shock. To be afraid of that people. Just like Her, they were aliens. Rather than risking meaningless peaceful contact with the unknown, an intelligent civilization would rather destroy it and any of its secrets along the way. Yes, that was the true.
The same truth Benedict Severin spent the entirety of his life studying about.
He dedicate his entire life to destruction.
For Her destruction. For Her unbeing.
It will not fail this time.
Unless, of course... If she undid Benedict Severin right there, on the spot.
The whole universe. No, the whole Multiversal Frame would benefit from that.
That atrocious monster. The Unmaker of Innocence, must go down.
...
Then his black stare switched back to Her again. She tried to push him away from the platform while looking to the structure, as if Wan Nabes himself was there. She gestured negation, and even through the primal dialect her mind was reducted to, the astrophysicist could get a hint of apprehension.
Then he realized.
— Why, yes. Of course.
Then, through his gaze alone, sided with Hers, it was over. Whatever wicked, paranoid thoughts that were taken inside the Girl's alien mind were now vaporized in an instant, almost as if they never were.
All of that would be easily comparable to what Severin felt with her touch.
— Opening A Fracture in four, three, two, one...
There was an amethys flash from inside the halo. An amalgam of Crimson and Azure. And it was over.
— Breach succesful.
The Kingsbane, and all the intelligent entities inside, were now in a zone beyond Space and Notspace. They were inside The Barrier.
— Well done, team. — He finished by beaming a gleeful grin at the Girl, tugging at her side.
Outer Space
There is a point that must be emphasized at this moment. That would be the feeling of familiarity Severin was going through since the arrival of this alien 'Girl'. Starting from the very beginning, seeing the helplessness of someone suddenly plunged into a bellicose place; experiencing a heavy loss that made the old astrophysicist to question his own existence. And, at last, the clinging of someone which was just looking for shelter. Even if solely was emotional shelter.
Soon after the Girl took Severin on her anxious embrace, it was like the decades he spent studying the cosmos came crashing down in an instant. His subconscious recollected at one single point, akin to a singularity of knowledge. Right there. In a nanofractionary instant. However, before his human mind could even proccess that insightful bombardment, it was gone. As a souvenir, it left a spiking pain at the old man's head. A nasty, but otherwise uncommon headache.
Though one of his hands where at his aching head now, the Girl would not see the smile fading.
It didn't fade. It never will.
Nevertheless, there was something Severin was oblivious to. He had walked forward, standing between his working colleagues, each on opposite sides of the room. He stood mere inches away from the supposed gap where the room - or platform - ended, suspended over the large area on which the ominous structure was erected. He announced something, deviating his attention from the Girl clinging into his arm. Between his words, there was something that sounded very strangely familiar to his alien friend.
— ... Yellow emergency protocols... Previous coordinates... 'Earth' 6-D... Fracture...
Fracture.
Whenever he would mention it, The Girl would be reminded for the translated word on her language. So it did with the multiple meanings of Fracture.
Breakage. Division. Cracking. Wounding.
Splitting.
Was it paranoia induced from the White Barbarian's atrocities? Or was the old man secretly plotting Her surely permanent destruction? Was his smile truly genuine? Or was it an act? Merely to coax a prey of its hideout?
Fracture. There was a reason for the cultural shock. To be afraid of that people. Just like Her, they were aliens. Rather than risking meaningless peaceful contact with the unknown, an intelligent civilization would rather destroy it and any of its secrets along the way. Yes, that was the true.
The same truth Benedict Severin spent the entirety of his life studying about.
He dedicate his entire life to destruction.
For Her destruction. For Her unbeing.
It will not fail this time.
Unless, of course... If she undid Benedict Severin right there, on the spot.
The whole universe. No, the whole Multiversal Frame would benefit from that.
That atrocious monster. The Unmaker of Innocence, must go down.
...
Then his black stare switched back to Her again. She tried to push him away from the platform while looking to the structure, as if Wan Nabes himself was there. She gestured negation, and even through the primal dialect her mind was reducted to, the astrophysicist could get a hint of apprehension.
Then he realized.
— Why, yes. Of course.
Then, through his gaze alone, sided with Hers, it was over. Whatever wicked, paranoid thoughts that were taken inside the Girl's alien mind were now vaporized in an instant, almost as if they never were.
All of that would be easily comparable to what Severin felt with her touch.
— Opening A Fracture in four, three, two, one...
There was an amethys flash from inside the halo. An amalgam of Crimson and Azure. And it was over.
— Breach succesful.
The Kingsbane, and all the intelligent entities inside, were now in a zone beyond Space and Notspace. They were inside The Barrier.
— Well done, team. — He finished by beaming a gleeful grin at the Girl, tugging at her side.
Amaury's morning since leaving the brothel had largely been spent preparing for a trip back. It wasn't something he looked forward to; a third of a mason's life might be spent on the road, but going backwards had little financial benefit most of the time. The mason was nearly gone from Hag's Shore when he came across an acquaintance named Pit; the man welcomed him into a tavern and even paid for breakfast.
So they sat at a long, wooden table with other patrons and spoke as they waited for food. Amaury loathed the idea of telling him what happened that morning and so was relieved when his friend started speaking of other matters immediately.
"You were heading for the swamp, weren't you? 'Cause folk got a lot to say about it today." Pit inquired as he lifted a cup of tea to his lips. The mason quirked a brow at him and shifted in his seat, folding his arms against the table. "...Yes? Why? I know the rumors about the witches and whatnot--"
As he replied his acquaintance waved his hand, "No, nothin' about that, friend. What I'm talkin' about is new! Happened this morning. Somethin' fell from the sky, it did." That was the time that the mason's expression shifted from casual curiosity to a scrutinizing stare.
"From the sky?"
"Yep."
"...This morning? What bells?"
"Well, I dunno, but it was damn early."
Amaury lifted his hand if only to rest his chin upon it and ponder. The memory of a far off, thunderous sound came to mind; the invisible storm he'd heard while still waking up. He supposed that could have been something falling instead; though it didn't please him. Things didn't just fall from the sky for no reason.
"...So it fell into the swamp, then?"
"Some folk say so. Others say it fell in other places, but most are saying the former." The two looked up as one of the tavern workers arrived and deposited two bowls of pottage before them. They smiled and thanked her (Amaury's came with a wink, of course), starting to eat while they conversed.
Pit spoke up first. "So folk are saying it was a sign from the Gods. Maybe there's something real important in that there swamp that they want us to find." The man looked up slowly at Amaury, a mirthful twinkle in his eye. "And maybe a man's a bit spooked by all that to be searching for it himself, but with a partner..."
The mason snorted, lowering his bowl and swallowing before replying. "All this because you want me to help you search for a sword in the stone, Pit?" He sighed. It was about as annoying as it was amusing. Pit was a larger, stronger man than he was, yet he was asking for help.
Still, he looked at Amaury with genuine interest. The smaller man rolled his eyes. "Look. I'll help you for a while, but my business is back across the pass. I can't spend all day looking for... whatever it is we're hoping to find."
Pit grinned and started to scarf his food. The mason watched, stuck between awe at his speed and horror while he took his time on his own meal. "We're not going any faster for that, you pig!" Amaury teased.
So they sat at a long, wooden table with other patrons and spoke as they waited for food. Amaury loathed the idea of telling him what happened that morning and so was relieved when his friend started speaking of other matters immediately.
"You were heading for the swamp, weren't you? 'Cause folk got a lot to say about it today." Pit inquired as he lifted a cup of tea to his lips. The mason quirked a brow at him and shifted in his seat, folding his arms against the table. "...Yes? Why? I know the rumors about the witches and whatnot--"
As he replied his acquaintance waved his hand, "No, nothin' about that, friend. What I'm talkin' about is new! Happened this morning. Somethin' fell from the sky, it did." That was the time that the mason's expression shifted from casual curiosity to a scrutinizing stare.
"From the sky?"
"Yep."
"...This morning? What bells?"
"Well, I dunno, but it was damn early."
Amaury lifted his hand if only to rest his chin upon it and ponder. The memory of a far off, thunderous sound came to mind; the invisible storm he'd heard while still waking up. He supposed that could have been something falling instead; though it didn't please him. Things didn't just fall from the sky for no reason.
"...So it fell into the swamp, then?"
"Some folk say so. Others say it fell in other places, but most are saying the former." The two looked up as one of the tavern workers arrived and deposited two bowls of pottage before them. They smiled and thanked her (Amaury's came with a wink, of course), starting to eat while they conversed.
Pit spoke up first. "So folk are saying it was a sign from the Gods. Maybe there's something real important in that there swamp that they want us to find." The man looked up slowly at Amaury, a mirthful twinkle in his eye. "And maybe a man's a bit spooked by all that to be searching for it himself, but with a partner..."
The mason snorted, lowering his bowl and swallowing before replying. "All this because you want me to help you search for a sword in the stone, Pit?" He sighed. It was about as annoying as it was amusing. Pit was a larger, stronger man than he was, yet he was asking for help.
Still, he looked at Amaury with genuine interest. The smaller man rolled his eyes. "Look. I'll help you for a while, but my business is back across the pass. I can't spend all day looking for... whatever it is we're hoping to find."
Pit grinned and started to scarf his food. The mason watched, stuck between awe at his speed and horror while he took his time on his own meal. "We're not going any faster for that, you pig!" Amaury teased.
A long moment of silence had passed over the two of them - the tall old man with his white hair tufting out in either direction behind his head, his long, black coat trailing over the stool - and the girl beside him, fluffy black hair cut short and a smart, white collared shirt that only aided in making her look like a teenage boy.
Before each of them a bowl of steaming noodles sat, looking sultry and delicious, wafting the succulent scent of onions and roasted garlic up at the pair. Around them, the Off-White Dragon Noodle Bar mulled with the dull sounds of midday patronage. IT was a room separated from the main station corridor, blue-steel walls and a dim atmosphere lit by neon lights above.
After a while, the girl spoke up suddenly, though talking low. ”Two rows back, one left, against the wall. First from the corner.” She resisted the urge to look toward the old man for affirmation, bt it became harder as seconds passed. The noodles were not that interesting. At last, she gave in and gave him one hasty, almost imperceptible glance.
Not imperceptible enough, though - he was grinning mischievously at her, with his own sidelong look. Silently the girl cursed her own impatience, her own need to know if she had been right. She could have looked back at the place she had spoken of, but that would have been cheating.
Before she could look hastily back to the noodles and pretend in knowing vain that she had not glanced so needily at him, the old man nodded, just once. The girl did not smile, though her heart leaped at the affirmation. She merely sat up a little straighter, encouraged, and extended her reply to include the rest.
”A Malsatek driver system. Probably relating to medical statistics or secretarial organization. Not worth pursuing.”
This time, she did turn to look openly at him, her face stern and hard, though her eyes were a tad too big to really get across the message.
The old man’s grin widened, the lines of his age parting to make him look years younger. The parted tufts of white hair looked no less silly for it. He looked like a wacky mad scientist with a hooked nose and a toothy smile. He nodded, following long anticipation. The girl, having not realized she was holding her breath, let it out.
”Most perceptive, Agent Kallenger.” The old mentor said, respectfully. ”I should expect nothing less from my star pupil.”
Again, the girl swelled with pride.
The question, of course, had been as to where the people talking technical jargon had been seated in relation to themselves, what they had been talking about, and whether or not it was worth looking further into. As usual, without so much as glancing about the little restaurant, the girl had gotten it all on the nose.
Satisfied with her performance, the scent of the noodles finally got to her and the girl plucked up her sticks, diving hungrily into the bowl. The old man’s remained untouched. Immediately after biting down on the first wound bunch of noodles wound around the sticks, the girl froze, eyes wide. She admitted a quiet, carefully squelched yelp and swallowed it whole, shooting out to grab the glass bottle to her right and drink greedily from it.
The old man suppressed his grin then, waiting until she had pounded the bottle back onto the counter before turning to her, looking earnest and sober. ”You okay?” He asked simply, and the girl’s hostility shot back like a flintlock.
”I’m fine!” She snapped, hands balled into fists on the bar top and cheeks tinged red.
The old man only nodded in acceptance, and turned his attention to his own food, wrapping a bundle of noodles around his sticks and blowing on them pointedly before taking a bite. Only when the girl had taken to pouting in the other direction did he reach over and plant one pale, gnarled hand atop the fluffy black hair on her head and ruffle it, roughly enough to make her bob her head slightly under the weight of it. She glared daggers at him through the depressed hair, emerald eyes shimmering, cheeks redder still. She was met with only the same impenetrable sidelong grin.
”You do it every time, Roy.” He said gently, almost apologetically.
”Do not!” She snapped back, but the blush remained a deep crimson because she knew very well that he was quite right.
The old man tittered and released her head, returning to his soup. ”Yes you do. And you’re going to keep doing it, I think...”
Tora Station
Royanna listened, nodding along, eating, drinking. They did not look in that moment like a semi-fugitive secret agent and her awkward, skittish transformed army companion. Instead they just looked like two friends, having lunch, and chatting. This was not something that the Agent was consciously aware of, but she likely would not have been offended if she had known.
She had, in the past, attempted to appear casual in order to be inconspicuous, but had always preferred direct intimidation over subtlety. It was humorous in a way, that now she should be focusing not at all on how she might have appeared to others - though that was not to say she was unaware of her surroundings.
”Not as obvious as you might think.” Royanna said simply, with no hint of consolation. As usual, she spoke plainly, speaking merely to speak, rather than to offer empty reassurement. ”Many planets in the Way are defined by singular characteristics. Like ‘jungle planets’ or ‘arctic planets’. Many are characterized by singular cultures, or societal norms - like those populated entirely by the wealthy, or those that are in constant war or lawlessness, or the opposite.”
She took a moment then to gesture wordlessly at the man behind the bar, who promptly brought two more bottles, one of them to replace Roy’s empty one, and another for Christofer.
”Ardella, for example, is mostly ash-marble steppelands and pine forests. No jungles at all.” Having deftly popped the cap off her soda, the Agent took an indulgent sip. ”That’s the sort of thing Severs and I talked about when he took me here during training. That and general awareness training, those kinds of things.”
She had no obligation to answer the boy’s earlier question regarding the subject of her training. He had even retracted the question - but to let it slide felt to Royanna like keeping a secret...And for some unidentifiable reason, she found the idea of keeping secrets from Christofer to be off putting. At least, secrets that wouldn’t matter if he were interrogated. Despite how carefully Agents of the Imperial Special Agent Program were kept from the public eye, there wasn’t actually all that much in the way of classified information...At least, not in her case.
The most secretive part of her job - though she was already thinking of it as her old job - was that which regarded her target, the Devil Eye. The secondary nature of her position - that of collecting valuable technology and research for use by the Empire - was really not so secret. Not as of now, anyway. So why bother? It wasn’t as if she was giving anything of value away, right?
”Must have been interesting to come from a varied world like that.” Roy mused quietly, uncharacteristically. But then everything about Roy was uncharacteristic right now, it seemed. Was this somehow the ‘real’ Royanna Kallenger? Or was it merely hidden? Even that seemed unlikely. Perhaps it was a simple matter of the complexity of human nature.
She found herself thinking then not about Christofer’s planet itself, but what to do about it. She found herself wondering what would happen if they did eventually return to that place. Doubtless he would wish to return there, to stay, and see her off on her merry way. She wondered if she really wanted to help him find the answers- and then, through force of will, she clamped down on those thoughts and forced them out of her head.
Having finished the noodles, Roy picked up the deep bowl in both hands and drank down the remaining broth before setting it back on the bar. She wasted no time in hailing the chef once more. Filling as the meal had been, there was still room. ”One brittlenut bowl.” She ordered, sounding just a little bit too demanding, as usual. There was no trace of that harshness when she returned to her canid friend. ”Dessert. I think you’ll like these."
Royanna had been the first to finish her food, having wolfed it down in a precise, but decidedly unladylike fashion. Despite this, it would take long enough to prepare the dessert that the canid would likewise have time to finish. When the bowl did come, it was filled with what appeared to be candied hazelnuts. Roy plucked one up with her fingers - they were warm, but not sticky - popped it contentedly in her mouth. They were light. almost weightless, with a wafer-like consistency. They did not taste like hazelnuts however - much sweeter thanks to the candied glaze and with the nut itself tasting like butter and honey. There were more than enough in the bowl for sharing.
Plucking up a couple more, Roy nudged the bowl slightly in Christofer’s direction, encouraging him silently to help himself.
It was a nice feeling, she realized, to share something she liked with someone who, against all possible odds, seemed to consider her a friend. Someone who, despite herself, she considered the same...Regardless of how her willingness to use the term, even within her own mind, waxed and waned almost by the minute.
She hoped dearly that nothing would interrupt it - and it was that very thought which caused her to casually turn around and survey the hallway behind them once… Just in case.
Probably nothing.
LoneWorld
Cornfield
The corn, towering over their heads in neat rows, was infinite.
They had entered a limbo of corn, a corn purgatory, and through it they would wander for all eternity.
This became more and more apparent as the eons went on. Thousands of years of corn. Millions.
And then, roughly an hour after they had set off into the eternal abyss of corn, the corn ceased, and was behind them. There was a squat, grassy hill to scale and lining the ridge of it was an old fashioned picket fence. Only once they had reached that surely artificial bluff would they at last lay their eyes upon the quaintest example of civilization anyone had ever seen.
It was delightful in its rustic charm. Several buildings with white walls and rough-hewn frames sat stoutly along a packed-dirt road which divided the little town in two. Several other, narrower paths could be seen leading off to other little buildings in the distance, each with their own plots of land and different varieties of fencing. Along the main road, several buildings could be identified, including several storefronts, marked by the various goods stocked on their facades and the signs over each. ’Booker’s Generol Goods’ and ’Husker’s Tovern’ among them. In either direction, the road stretched out to infinity, bordered on all sides by eternal fields of corn that seemed to stretch to the very horizon itself.
It was the idealized rural farming village, straight out of medieval-era tales of fantasy and fancy.
The only thing wrong with it...
Was that it appeared completely abandoned.
Ty surveyed the place carefully with one hand cupped over his eyes to shield him from the sun, then turned to his companion and shrugged dubiously. He wasn’t about to proceed without his friend’s input, self-styled ‘leader-of-the-band’ or not. No point in ‘taking charge’ when there were only two of them left…
Swamp
The scent of salt air became more apparent as the group trudged eastward, navigating the pools of murky water by keeping to the firmer, but still spongy peat that divided it at no regular intervals. Insects buzzed and chirped quietly from their hidden homes. Ahead, an improbable puce colored bird gave a horrendous squawk before lifting off and disappearing into the sunlight speckled canopy above.
It was a quiet trek - apparently nobody had much to say given the bleak circumstances. The marshy wastes seemed to stretch on forever, and it was all but impossible to keep track of time in such a state. The sun did not appear to move in the sky - either time was moving slow, or the days were longer...It seemed to Sands that the former was more likely. Time flew when having fun, and dragged when hopping from peat-moss to peat-moss in order to avoid whatever unpleasant critters might lurk in the murky waters below.
It was beginning to look like they had fallen victim to one of the cruelest fates of modern spacefaring - crashing on an uninhabited world.
Yet regardless of how long it had actually been, progress was made. It was not Sands, but someone else who discovered the first sign of sentient life, literally in the form of a sign. The bulky soldier hopped over to examine it - a single, mouldering plank on which the faded words ’Hogs Shor’ could just barely be discerned. One side of the plank tapered to a rough point, indicating what might have been north. They looked to one another, letting the implications sink in. It was a relief, to say the least - though surely they all knew that there was a good chance of the people this sign was intended for being long gone. It was a very old sign, and there was no road in sight for it to stand beside, nailed instead into a completely miscellaneous tree.
But, Sands realized, that wasn’t true. It was purely by chance that he noticed it. He beckoned the others closer in order that they might see it too, or tell him that his eyes were playing tricks.
Indeed, the very faintest remnants of a trail could be made out, headed in the direction of the salty breeze. It could only be seen by taking in the view as a whole, and letting it appear through association. The way several rocks lined up here, the way the peat clumped and padded down there. Clearly the trail was long unused, perhaps even ancient, almost completely reclaimed by the swamp through which it cut its path - but not quite. If the sign pointed north, the ancient trail’s faint remains ran east.
It was slightly easier walking, at least.
The sun was descending by the time they reached the edge of the swamp, which broke off suddenly and completely at the edge of an east-facing cliff, with only several yards of passable terrain between the dense, swampy growth and a solid, hundred-some drop into jagged rocks and the white foaming waves of the sea. Over it, the sun hung like a dim incandescent bulb, lighting the water up like embers.
Sands stood on the edge of that cliff for a long moment, contemplating the sight. It was beautiful, indeed - but he had other things on his mind. Graver things.
From there, it only made sense to proceed north, in the direction the old sign had suggested. The walking was easier still now, a thin layer of topsoil and pale green grass growing atop the slate-like ground which kept the swamp from pouring into the ocean. The gently winding nature of the edge of the cliffs, however, made it impossible to see more than a few miles ahead at best.
As the sun began making its intention to plunge into the sea more apparent, it was starting to look like the group would need to make camp, or otherwise risk navigating by starlight and taking one too many steps in the direction of certain death - though would be the last thing to occur to Sands, given his preoccupation.
City
Dal gave the huge, two-toned man a searching look for a long moment, and followed it with a decisive nod. ”A’ight. I think Bones can take care’ himself, yeah. Let’s do us a favor and git the @#$% out this dump.” She gave off the impression - probably unintentionally - of saying so more to convince herself than anyone else.
She did not give the impression of being ‘in charge’, but certainly did not lack for initiative. Still standing atop the wrecked hunk of twisted metal that had once been part of the Koolest Boat U Know, the woman took the liberty of stepping up to a slightly higher point, which allowed her just barely to see over the closest thatched rooftops...Some of which were already starting to smoke faintly. She would have let the tallest of her comrades do this, except that she was the one closest to the vantage point.
”Yup, that way.” She called down after a moment, pointing to the northeast, where a faint change in the cloud patterns suggested ocean. The city was vast enough that no water could be seen, but it seemed a likely direction. The bitter tinge of smoke was already beginning to cloud the air, but the salt air was pungent enough that even from so far it could be just barely detected.
Hopping energetically down from the perch, Dal slid down the side of the bulkhead, landing roughly, but n her feet among the stony rubble of what the nameless peasant had called the ’Chapel of Motuk’.
The clearing surrounding the one-time chapel gave the crew a wide range of sight. Old-style buildings, higher floors wider than the lowers, stood crooked in a wide berth around the clearing, which itself ws dotted with now overturned carts and one stone well. The packed-dirt streets between the huddled buildings with their rough-hewn wood frames and white plaster siding looked narrow and daunting, especially given the madness that was spreading like wildfire through the people. Already one of the streets was aglow with some fire burning around the corner.
”I get th’feelin’ we gone’ have to fight our way out.” Dal said grimly, making her way toward the most likely entrance to what was doubtless an extensive maze of chaotic, disorganized streets and alleys.
Kilwen had already begun his valiant attempt at leading by example, working to extinguish the fires and rescue the idiots from themselves. Despite having known him for barely an hour or two, Dal found herself looking back at him as she went with the others, watching as he plucked two flailing peasants from the second floor of their mostly burned out hovel.
It did not give her much hope for Kilwen’s honorable endeavor, given that she was still watching when the two were placed safely on the ground, only to immediately sprint to the nearest blaze, fish out burning sticks, and proceed to light two more fires as if to make up for the one that the Lord had put out.
In some perverse way the soldier found this humorous, and had to stifle a guffawing laugh.
Passing from the open pavillion - if it could be called that much - into the narrow, dank street was like navigating the threshold of a dark cave. Sunlight did stream down from between the narrow slits of sky afforded by the overhanging upper levels, which seemed to be on the verge of tipping in upon each other even without the added instability of spotty fires - but it was those very fires that were starting to cloud over the sky even as the group moved forth.
They had gotten hardly a dozen feet in when, almost as if synchronized, five peasants came bursting forth from yawning doorways and immediately went hacking or punching at whoever was within their reach, including each other. Many were wielding farming tools or other primitive apparatuses. Ahead, one could be seen brandishing a torch, screaming something incomprehensible as he - or she - sprinted back and forth along the walls, holding the flame so as to set alight everything it could.
”Motukka Monshuuk Kanuuk! Kanuuuuk!”
One peasant leaped at Dallen with a rusty hatchet, having appeared from who knows where, also shouting something incomprehensible. Whatever it was, he did not get the chance to finish it. Dallen’s hand-to-hand was far from legendary, but she could hold her own against other trained soldiers - frenzied dirt-farmers were of no challenge at all. She promptly, almost casually disarmed the man and clonked him on the head with the dull backside of the hatchet. Then she hefted her new weapon, taking a cursory glance at it before proceeding.
She was not the only one under sporadic attack, either - though she found herself the brunt of more attacks than her two alien friends. The sulky Qetan was in the same boat, suffering the brunt of peasant-rage before they had time to see the surely awe-inspiring sight of Vaxur and Wyr and turning tail to go light more fires.
At one point as they proceeded through the streets which seemed to grow more and more chaotic as they went along, Dal even found herself giving a solid thwack to someone who would probably have managed to flank the Qetan and get a solid hit in. She pointedly did not make eye contact with the woman afterwards.
-
Meanwhile, Kilwen would be finding himself in an infuriating predicament. For every fire he extinguished, two more would spring up nearby. In the distance, thumping explosions could be heard as power kegs detonated, doubtless lighting more fires still.
Even as he worked against the flames, the city began to transform into a mad inferno. The streets were thronged with crazed violence. Packs of wild peasants would glide through the throngs, mowing down all in their path, then turn on each other without warning. Market stalls were torn down with fervor. There was not even any looting - only mindless, relentless destruction. The entire city was coming apart.
Worse still, Kilwen himself - Motuk, to these people - went entirely ignored. It was as if his presence was completely expected, as if everyone knew that he should be there. That he was not joining in the destruction did not occur to him, nor did anything he say get through. They whirled at his feet like eddies and kept on their mad, aimless missions.
The craze they were in, it soon became apparent, was more than Kilwen’s effect alone. The Voice was powerful, but surely it was incapable of whipping so many people into such an insurmountable, impenetrable madness. This was more than mere mob mentality sparked by the Voice of terror.
This was anarchy.
As the Lord proceeded, he would begin to hear nonsense cries along with the other screeches. One in particular was the same that his companions would be hearing as they fought their way in the opposite direction; ”Motukka Monshuuk Kanuuk! Motukka Monshuuk Kanuuuuk!” Was now mixed in with the assorted ”Burn for Motuk!” and ”Motuk comes! Do not be afraid!” and ”All ends with Motuk! All burns with Motuk!”
One scrawny fellow, clearly inspired from other sources, was squawking ”Akira comes!” He was, in turn, neatly gored with a pitchfork for being entirely out of touch with the situation.
It would become apparent to both parties that the madness was no longer centered around the ruins of the Chapel of Motuk. Indeed, the destruction seemed only to become greater and greater still as they went along, the crew toward the sea and Kilwen toward the distant castle wall. More distant thumping as powder barrels went off. Here and there, buildings were collapsing now - eaten through by fire or simply knocked down by the monetary cooperation of determined peasants.
As he proceeded, Kilwen would begin to see men in heavy armor, more heavily armed. Guardsmen, surely - but impossibly, they were actually joining in with the chaos! Even as he watched, a man in heavy cavalry outfit chopped away at several wailing peasants, then snatched up a torch and tossed it through the window of what once might have been a tavern...before the apparent end of the world.
Nor would Kilwen be relieved at what he saw upon finally nearing the castle.
There was a wide, open space between the buildings and the castle wall - it was littered with bodies and debris. The wall itself had been crumbled to cobbles in several places. The castle beyond - which looked more like a stout, rough-hewn fortress - was similarly ablaze from within.
Worse still - and unbelievably so - men who were outfitted in regiment which could only be that of the king’s personal guard were at it too - contributing to the slow and nigh inevitable collapse that was bound to come within the hour. They, however, were shouting a slight variant of the nonsense; ”Ovamotukka Montuuk Kanuuk! Oooooovamotukka Monshuuk Kanuuuuk!” One of them wailed, clunking over the ruins of the outer wall and throwing primitive fire-bombs helter-skelter over the rooftops.
One might have wondered where the king was, in all this. None of the corpses so far appeared to be crowned, though the great, ironwood doors marking the fortress’ mouth were gaping...
Before each of them a bowl of steaming noodles sat, looking sultry and delicious, wafting the succulent scent of onions and roasted garlic up at the pair. Around them, the Off-White Dragon Noodle Bar mulled with the dull sounds of midday patronage. IT was a room separated from the main station corridor, blue-steel walls and a dim atmosphere lit by neon lights above.
After a while, the girl spoke up suddenly, though talking low. ”Two rows back, one left, against the wall. First from the corner.” She resisted the urge to look toward the old man for affirmation, bt it became harder as seconds passed. The noodles were not that interesting. At last, she gave in and gave him one hasty, almost imperceptible glance.
Not imperceptible enough, though - he was grinning mischievously at her, with his own sidelong look. Silently the girl cursed her own impatience, her own need to know if she had been right. She could have looked back at the place she had spoken of, but that would have been cheating.
Before she could look hastily back to the noodles and pretend in knowing vain that she had not glanced so needily at him, the old man nodded, just once. The girl did not smile, though her heart leaped at the affirmation. She merely sat up a little straighter, encouraged, and extended her reply to include the rest.
”A Malsatek driver system. Probably relating to medical statistics or secretarial organization. Not worth pursuing.”
This time, she did turn to look openly at him, her face stern and hard, though her eyes were a tad too big to really get across the message.
The old man’s grin widened, the lines of his age parting to make him look years younger. The parted tufts of white hair looked no less silly for it. He looked like a wacky mad scientist with a hooked nose and a toothy smile. He nodded, following long anticipation. The girl, having not realized she was holding her breath, let it out.
”Most perceptive, Agent Kallenger.” The old mentor said, respectfully. ”I should expect nothing less from my star pupil.”
Again, the girl swelled with pride.
The question, of course, had been as to where the people talking technical jargon had been seated in relation to themselves, what they had been talking about, and whether or not it was worth looking further into. As usual, without so much as glancing about the little restaurant, the girl had gotten it all on the nose.
Satisfied with her performance, the scent of the noodles finally got to her and the girl plucked up her sticks, diving hungrily into the bowl. The old man’s remained untouched. Immediately after biting down on the first wound bunch of noodles wound around the sticks, the girl froze, eyes wide. She admitted a quiet, carefully squelched yelp and swallowed it whole, shooting out to grab the glass bottle to her right and drink greedily from it.
The old man suppressed his grin then, waiting until she had pounded the bottle back onto the counter before turning to her, looking earnest and sober. ”You okay?” He asked simply, and the girl’s hostility shot back like a flintlock.
”I’m fine!” She snapped, hands balled into fists on the bar top and cheeks tinged red.
The old man only nodded in acceptance, and turned his attention to his own food, wrapping a bundle of noodles around his sticks and blowing on them pointedly before taking a bite. Only when the girl had taken to pouting in the other direction did he reach over and plant one pale, gnarled hand atop the fluffy black hair on her head and ruffle it, roughly enough to make her bob her head slightly under the weight of it. She glared daggers at him through the depressed hair, emerald eyes shimmering, cheeks redder still. She was met with only the same impenetrable sidelong grin.
”You do it every time, Roy.” He said gently, almost apologetically.
”Do not!” She snapped back, but the blush remained a deep crimson because she knew very well that he was quite right.
The old man tittered and released her head, returning to his soup. ”Yes you do. And you’re going to keep doing it, I think...”
Tora Station
Royanna listened, nodding along, eating, drinking. They did not look in that moment like a semi-fugitive secret agent and her awkward, skittish transformed army companion. Instead they just looked like two friends, having lunch, and chatting. This was not something that the Agent was consciously aware of, but she likely would not have been offended if she had known.
She had, in the past, attempted to appear casual in order to be inconspicuous, but had always preferred direct intimidation over subtlety. It was humorous in a way, that now she should be focusing not at all on how she might have appeared to others - though that was not to say she was unaware of her surroundings.
”Not as obvious as you might think.” Royanna said simply, with no hint of consolation. As usual, she spoke plainly, speaking merely to speak, rather than to offer empty reassurement. ”Many planets in the Way are defined by singular characteristics. Like ‘jungle planets’ or ‘arctic planets’. Many are characterized by singular cultures, or societal norms - like those populated entirely by the wealthy, or those that are in constant war or lawlessness, or the opposite.”
She took a moment then to gesture wordlessly at the man behind the bar, who promptly brought two more bottles, one of them to replace Roy’s empty one, and another for Christofer.
”Ardella, for example, is mostly ash-marble steppelands and pine forests. No jungles at all.” Having deftly popped the cap off her soda, the Agent took an indulgent sip. ”That’s the sort of thing Severs and I talked about when he took me here during training. That and general awareness training, those kinds of things.”
She had no obligation to answer the boy’s earlier question regarding the subject of her training. He had even retracted the question - but to let it slide felt to Royanna like keeping a secret...And for some unidentifiable reason, she found the idea of keeping secrets from Christofer to be off putting. At least, secrets that wouldn’t matter if he were interrogated. Despite how carefully Agents of the Imperial Special Agent Program were kept from the public eye, there wasn’t actually all that much in the way of classified information...At least, not in her case.
The most secretive part of her job - though she was already thinking of it as her old job - was that which regarded her target, the Devil Eye. The secondary nature of her position - that of collecting valuable technology and research for use by the Empire - was really not so secret. Not as of now, anyway. So why bother? It wasn’t as if she was giving anything of value away, right?
”Must have been interesting to come from a varied world like that.” Roy mused quietly, uncharacteristically. But then everything about Roy was uncharacteristic right now, it seemed. Was this somehow the ‘real’ Royanna Kallenger? Or was it merely hidden? Even that seemed unlikely. Perhaps it was a simple matter of the complexity of human nature.
She found herself thinking then not about Christofer’s planet itself, but what to do about it. She found herself wondering what would happen if they did eventually return to that place. Doubtless he would wish to return there, to stay, and see her off on her merry way. She wondered if she really wanted to help him find the answers- and then, through force of will, she clamped down on those thoughts and forced them out of her head.
Having finished the noodles, Roy picked up the deep bowl in both hands and drank down the remaining broth before setting it back on the bar. She wasted no time in hailing the chef once more. Filling as the meal had been, there was still room. ”One brittlenut bowl.” She ordered, sounding just a little bit too demanding, as usual. There was no trace of that harshness when she returned to her canid friend. ”Dessert. I think you’ll like these."
Royanna had been the first to finish her food, having wolfed it down in a precise, but decidedly unladylike fashion. Despite this, it would take long enough to prepare the dessert that the canid would likewise have time to finish. When the bowl did come, it was filled with what appeared to be candied hazelnuts. Roy plucked one up with her fingers - they were warm, but not sticky - popped it contentedly in her mouth. They were light. almost weightless, with a wafer-like consistency. They did not taste like hazelnuts however - much sweeter thanks to the candied glaze and with the nut itself tasting like butter and honey. There were more than enough in the bowl for sharing.
Plucking up a couple more, Roy nudged the bowl slightly in Christofer’s direction, encouraging him silently to help himself.
It was a nice feeling, she realized, to share something she liked with someone who, against all possible odds, seemed to consider her a friend. Someone who, despite herself, she considered the same...Regardless of how her willingness to use the term, even within her own mind, waxed and waned almost by the minute.
She hoped dearly that nothing would interrupt it - and it was that very thought which caused her to casually turn around and survey the hallway behind them once… Just in case.
Probably nothing.
LoneWorld
Cornfield
The corn, towering over their heads in neat rows, was infinite.
They had entered a limbo of corn, a corn purgatory, and through it they would wander for all eternity.
This became more and more apparent as the eons went on. Thousands of years of corn. Millions.
And then, roughly an hour after they had set off into the eternal abyss of corn, the corn ceased, and was behind them. There was a squat, grassy hill to scale and lining the ridge of it was an old fashioned picket fence. Only once they had reached that surely artificial bluff would they at last lay their eyes upon the quaintest example of civilization anyone had ever seen.
It was delightful in its rustic charm. Several buildings with white walls and rough-hewn frames sat stoutly along a packed-dirt road which divided the little town in two. Several other, narrower paths could be seen leading off to other little buildings in the distance, each with their own plots of land and different varieties of fencing. Along the main road, several buildings could be identified, including several storefronts, marked by the various goods stocked on their facades and the signs over each. ’Booker’s Generol Goods’ and ’Husker’s Tovern’ among them. In either direction, the road stretched out to infinity, bordered on all sides by eternal fields of corn that seemed to stretch to the very horizon itself.
It was the idealized rural farming village, straight out of medieval-era tales of fantasy and fancy.
The only thing wrong with it...
Was that it appeared completely abandoned.
Ty surveyed the place carefully with one hand cupped over his eyes to shield him from the sun, then turned to his companion and shrugged dubiously. He wasn’t about to proceed without his friend’s input, self-styled ‘leader-of-the-band’ or not. No point in ‘taking charge’ when there were only two of them left…
Swamp
The scent of salt air became more apparent as the group trudged eastward, navigating the pools of murky water by keeping to the firmer, but still spongy peat that divided it at no regular intervals. Insects buzzed and chirped quietly from their hidden homes. Ahead, an improbable puce colored bird gave a horrendous squawk before lifting off and disappearing into the sunlight speckled canopy above.
It was a quiet trek - apparently nobody had much to say given the bleak circumstances. The marshy wastes seemed to stretch on forever, and it was all but impossible to keep track of time in such a state. The sun did not appear to move in the sky - either time was moving slow, or the days were longer...It seemed to Sands that the former was more likely. Time flew when having fun, and dragged when hopping from peat-moss to peat-moss in order to avoid whatever unpleasant critters might lurk in the murky waters below.
It was beginning to look like they had fallen victim to one of the cruelest fates of modern spacefaring - crashing on an uninhabited world.
Yet regardless of how long it had actually been, progress was made. It was not Sands, but someone else who discovered the first sign of sentient life, literally in the form of a sign. The bulky soldier hopped over to examine it - a single, mouldering plank on which the faded words ’Hogs Shor’ could just barely be discerned. One side of the plank tapered to a rough point, indicating what might have been north. They looked to one another, letting the implications sink in. It was a relief, to say the least - though surely they all knew that there was a good chance of the people this sign was intended for being long gone. It was a very old sign, and there was no road in sight for it to stand beside, nailed instead into a completely miscellaneous tree.
But, Sands realized, that wasn’t true. It was purely by chance that he noticed it. He beckoned the others closer in order that they might see it too, or tell him that his eyes were playing tricks.
Indeed, the very faintest remnants of a trail could be made out, headed in the direction of the salty breeze. It could only be seen by taking in the view as a whole, and letting it appear through association. The way several rocks lined up here, the way the peat clumped and padded down there. Clearly the trail was long unused, perhaps even ancient, almost completely reclaimed by the swamp through which it cut its path - but not quite. If the sign pointed north, the ancient trail’s faint remains ran east.
It was slightly easier walking, at least.
The sun was descending by the time they reached the edge of the swamp, which broke off suddenly and completely at the edge of an east-facing cliff, with only several yards of passable terrain between the dense, swampy growth and a solid, hundred-some drop into jagged rocks and the white foaming waves of the sea. Over it, the sun hung like a dim incandescent bulb, lighting the water up like embers.
Sands stood on the edge of that cliff for a long moment, contemplating the sight. It was beautiful, indeed - but he had other things on his mind. Graver things.
From there, it only made sense to proceed north, in the direction the old sign had suggested. The walking was easier still now, a thin layer of topsoil and pale green grass growing atop the slate-like ground which kept the swamp from pouring into the ocean. The gently winding nature of the edge of the cliffs, however, made it impossible to see more than a few miles ahead at best.
As the sun began making its intention to plunge into the sea more apparent, it was starting to look like the group would need to make camp, or otherwise risk navigating by starlight and taking one too many steps in the direction of certain death - though would be the last thing to occur to Sands, given his preoccupation.
City
Dal gave the huge, two-toned man a searching look for a long moment, and followed it with a decisive nod. ”A’ight. I think Bones can take care’ himself, yeah. Let’s do us a favor and git the @#$% out this dump.” She gave off the impression - probably unintentionally - of saying so more to convince herself than anyone else.
She did not give the impression of being ‘in charge’, but certainly did not lack for initiative. Still standing atop the wrecked hunk of twisted metal that had once been part of the Koolest Boat U Know, the woman took the liberty of stepping up to a slightly higher point, which allowed her just barely to see over the closest thatched rooftops...Some of which were already starting to smoke faintly. She would have let the tallest of her comrades do this, except that she was the one closest to the vantage point.
”Yup, that way.” She called down after a moment, pointing to the northeast, where a faint change in the cloud patterns suggested ocean. The city was vast enough that no water could be seen, but it seemed a likely direction. The bitter tinge of smoke was already beginning to cloud the air, but the salt air was pungent enough that even from so far it could be just barely detected.
Hopping energetically down from the perch, Dal slid down the side of the bulkhead, landing roughly, but n her feet among the stony rubble of what the nameless peasant had called the ’Chapel of Motuk’.
The clearing surrounding the one-time chapel gave the crew a wide range of sight. Old-style buildings, higher floors wider than the lowers, stood crooked in a wide berth around the clearing, which itself ws dotted with now overturned carts and one stone well. The packed-dirt streets between the huddled buildings with their rough-hewn wood frames and white plaster siding looked narrow and daunting, especially given the madness that was spreading like wildfire through the people. Already one of the streets was aglow with some fire burning around the corner.
”I get th’feelin’ we gone’ have to fight our way out.” Dal said grimly, making her way toward the most likely entrance to what was doubtless an extensive maze of chaotic, disorganized streets and alleys.
Kilwen had already begun his valiant attempt at leading by example, working to extinguish the fires and rescue the idiots from themselves. Despite having known him for barely an hour or two, Dal found herself looking back at him as she went with the others, watching as he plucked two flailing peasants from the second floor of their mostly burned out hovel.
It did not give her much hope for Kilwen’s honorable endeavor, given that she was still watching when the two were placed safely on the ground, only to immediately sprint to the nearest blaze, fish out burning sticks, and proceed to light two more fires as if to make up for the one that the Lord had put out.
In some perverse way the soldier found this humorous, and had to stifle a guffawing laugh.
Passing from the open pavillion - if it could be called that much - into the narrow, dank street was like navigating the threshold of a dark cave. Sunlight did stream down from between the narrow slits of sky afforded by the overhanging upper levels, which seemed to be on the verge of tipping in upon each other even without the added instability of spotty fires - but it was those very fires that were starting to cloud over the sky even as the group moved forth.
They had gotten hardly a dozen feet in when, almost as if synchronized, five peasants came bursting forth from yawning doorways and immediately went hacking or punching at whoever was within their reach, including each other. Many were wielding farming tools or other primitive apparatuses. Ahead, one could be seen brandishing a torch, screaming something incomprehensible as he - or she - sprinted back and forth along the walls, holding the flame so as to set alight everything it could.
”Motukka Monshuuk Kanuuk! Kanuuuuk!”
One peasant leaped at Dallen with a rusty hatchet, having appeared from who knows where, also shouting something incomprehensible. Whatever it was, he did not get the chance to finish it. Dallen’s hand-to-hand was far from legendary, but she could hold her own against other trained soldiers - frenzied dirt-farmers were of no challenge at all. She promptly, almost casually disarmed the man and clonked him on the head with the dull backside of the hatchet. Then she hefted her new weapon, taking a cursory glance at it before proceeding.
She was not the only one under sporadic attack, either - though she found herself the brunt of more attacks than her two alien friends. The sulky Qetan was in the same boat, suffering the brunt of peasant-rage before they had time to see the surely awe-inspiring sight of Vaxur and Wyr and turning tail to go light more fires.
At one point as they proceeded through the streets which seemed to grow more and more chaotic as they went along, Dal even found herself giving a solid thwack to someone who would probably have managed to flank the Qetan and get a solid hit in. She pointedly did not make eye contact with the woman afterwards.
-
Meanwhile, Kilwen would be finding himself in an infuriating predicament. For every fire he extinguished, two more would spring up nearby. In the distance, thumping explosions could be heard as power kegs detonated, doubtless lighting more fires still.
Even as he worked against the flames, the city began to transform into a mad inferno. The streets were thronged with crazed violence. Packs of wild peasants would glide through the throngs, mowing down all in their path, then turn on each other without warning. Market stalls were torn down with fervor. There was not even any looting - only mindless, relentless destruction. The entire city was coming apart.
Worse still, Kilwen himself - Motuk, to these people - went entirely ignored. It was as if his presence was completely expected, as if everyone knew that he should be there. That he was not joining in the destruction did not occur to him, nor did anything he say get through. They whirled at his feet like eddies and kept on their mad, aimless missions.
The craze they were in, it soon became apparent, was more than Kilwen’s effect alone. The Voice was powerful, but surely it was incapable of whipping so many people into such an insurmountable, impenetrable madness. This was more than mere mob mentality sparked by the Voice of terror.
This was anarchy.
As the Lord proceeded, he would begin to hear nonsense cries along with the other screeches. One in particular was the same that his companions would be hearing as they fought their way in the opposite direction; ”Motukka Monshuuk Kanuuk! Motukka Monshuuk Kanuuuuk!” Was now mixed in with the assorted ”Burn for Motuk!” and ”Motuk comes! Do not be afraid!” and ”All ends with Motuk! All burns with Motuk!”
One scrawny fellow, clearly inspired from other sources, was squawking ”Akira comes!” He was, in turn, neatly gored with a pitchfork for being entirely out of touch with the situation.
It would become apparent to both parties that the madness was no longer centered around the ruins of the Chapel of Motuk. Indeed, the destruction seemed only to become greater and greater still as they went along, the crew toward the sea and Kilwen toward the distant castle wall. More distant thumping as powder barrels went off. Here and there, buildings were collapsing now - eaten through by fire or simply knocked down by the monetary cooperation of determined peasants.
As he proceeded, Kilwen would begin to see men in heavy armor, more heavily armed. Guardsmen, surely - but impossibly, they were actually joining in with the chaos! Even as he watched, a man in heavy cavalry outfit chopped away at several wailing peasants, then snatched up a torch and tossed it through the window of what once might have been a tavern...before the apparent end of the world.
Nor would Kilwen be relieved at what he saw upon finally nearing the castle.
There was a wide, open space between the buildings and the castle wall - it was littered with bodies and debris. The wall itself had been crumbled to cobbles in several places. The castle beyond - which looked more like a stout, rough-hewn fortress - was similarly ablaze from within.
Worse still - and unbelievably so - men who were outfitted in regiment which could only be that of the king’s personal guard were at it too - contributing to the slow and nigh inevitable collapse that was bound to come within the hour. They, however, were shouting a slight variant of the nonsense; ”Ovamotukka Montuuk Kanuuk! Oooooovamotukka Monshuuk Kanuuuuk!” One of them wailed, clunking over the ruins of the outer wall and throwing primitive fire-bombs helter-skelter over the rooftops.
One might have wondered where the king was, in all this. None of the corpses so far appeared to be crowned, though the great, ironwood doors marking the fortress’ mouth were gaping...
The view that greeted Kallenger was mostly normal and to be expected. The only standout among it all was a decidedly short woman with hair not too much longer than Kallenger's own. In fact ,the woman almost appeared as the complete opposite of Kallenger in terms of dress. Wearing high-end synthetic clothing in white and black she contrasted starkly against Kallenger's older and darker attire.
The woman was almost on top of the two, taking the stool on the opposite side of Kallenger. Without waiting the woman gives a friendly, if almost too perfect, smile and a quick wave. Inside the palm of the waved hand was an s-class badge much like Kallenger's own. "Good evening Ms. Kallenger. My name is Dee. I do apologize if I am interrupting your meal...but I'm so glad to have finally caught up with you. The three of us have so much to talk about....after you finish your meals of course." as Dee spoke her voice carried an subtle electronic quality as she did her best to come across as non-threatening.
The woman was almost on top of the two, taking the stool on the opposite side of Kallenger. Without waiting the woman gives a friendly, if almost too perfect, smile and a quick wave. Inside the palm of the waved hand was an s-class badge much like Kallenger's own. "Good evening Ms. Kallenger. My name is Dee. I do apologize if I am interrupting your meal...but I'm so glad to have finally caught up with you. The three of us have so much to talk about....after you finish your meals of course." as Dee spoke her voice carried an subtle electronic quality as she did her best to come across as non-threatening.
"My name isn't Starlander, its Jet. And before we do an 'honest' battle, how about you tell me wherein the hell I am? And where are my...", Jet trailed off, realizing he still had the bow, "...friends". He quickly notched the bow pulled it taught, making sure his shoulders were down and arm was back. Looking intensely at the now readied warrior woman, he unleashed the arrow, its fury driving it directly...into the roof of the cave. At the last second, Jet pulled the bow up, launching the arrow away from his opponent, and leapt at her, driving his shoulder as hard as he could into her sternum. He'd done this as a way to distract his enemy, for she was interested more in the arrow, and was promptly misdirected.
Once Jet had gotten his shoulder into her sternum, he drove her to the edge of the cave, moving like a hyper-train on full speed. Before he flung her off the edge, he twisted his body and grabbed her wrist. Then he propped her up on his hip, throwing her down, and putting himself between her and the cliff. The wrist grab had disarmed her, and now Jet had pulled her up, putting her into a full nelson.
"From the looks of it, you seem to be a simple hunter, and we both know there is no such thing as an "honest battle". If you don't give me a proper answer, I'll throw myself off this cliff, bringing you with, restraining you the whole time so there's no funny business." griped Jet, knowing everything he had just said was a flat out lie. His entire persona and life was built off of "fair" and "honest" battle, hell thats why he doesn't use a gun. And its not like he had a death wish either, he had just been fighting for his life, why would he want to end it. Not to mention the grief it'd bring to his friends.
Once Jet had gotten his shoulder into her sternum, he drove her to the edge of the cave, moving like a hyper-train on full speed. Before he flung her off the edge, he twisted his body and grabbed her wrist. Then he propped her up on his hip, throwing her down, and putting himself between her and the cliff. The wrist grab had disarmed her, and now Jet had pulled her up, putting her into a full nelson.
"From the looks of it, you seem to be a simple hunter, and we both know there is no such thing as an "honest battle". If you don't give me a proper answer, I'll throw myself off this cliff, bringing you with, restraining you the whole time so there's no funny business." griped Jet, knowing everything he had just said was a flat out lie. His entire persona and life was built off of "fair" and "honest" battle, hell thats why he doesn't use a gun. And its not like he had a death wish either, he had just been fighting for his life, why would he want to end it. Not to mention the grief it'd bring to his friends.
Tora Station
It was by sheer force of will and long practice alone that kept Royanna Kallenger from jumping at the sight of the newcomer. A similar depth of willpower kept her from dwelling too much on how thoroughly disgusted she was with herself for having allowed this threat to get so close to them without noticing or even suspecting.
Were her instincts so dulled? Had she become so complacent, had sloth so overcome her in these latter days? Now was not the time to dwell upon it, no matter how shrilly he insecurities called to her with their temptations of spiraling self-loathing and burgeoning madness.
Instead, Royanna’s jaw tightened. Her posture stiffened - but otherwise she appeared more or less unfazed. Only the highly trained eyes of an Imperial Special Agent - or the intuitive senses of a solitary companion - would notice the change.
She had expected what role this newcomer may have been occupying from the instant their eyes met, and the diamond shaped, blue and green holographed badge subtly hidden in the palm of her cheerfully waving hand was beyond solid proof.
It was a badge identical to the one that Royanna herself carried - though her own was presently separated into two halves, one in the possession of her canid friend. It was a vastly powerful technological relic intrusted to only the most capable and high-ranking members of the Ardellan Imperial Forces.
It was the badge of an Imperial Special Agent.
Even as the newcomer sat in the seat next to her, she resented the smooth and sociable way this newcomer was able to smile at her. Even as her eyes, steadily locked on the mismatched orbs of the other with no pretense of friendliness. Within seconds, at least a dozen means of subduing the white-clad Agent, of striking her down, slaughtering her where she sat had shot through Roy's head. But simultaneously she was well aware that for every attack, maneuver or action she could think of, this agent would have a counter.
Not all Agents were of precisely the same level of experience and skill, but that meant nothing. Outright battles between Agents were unheard of, and for two to fight would be an unstoppable object versus an immovable object. There was no reason to think that a conflict between the two of them would be anything but a life ans death gamble.
Such a battle was unheard of. If one had occurred in the past, it had been cleanly and thoroughly wiped from all records, likely by Malbec himself. Agents had limited contact with each other to begin with. If at some point one Agent had been tasked with dispatching another, it was the last thing that others would ever be allowed to know of.
But Imperial Agents were on the same side. They were tested thoroughly for loyalty to the cause and to the Empire. They were put through harrowing ‘mind conditioning’ as insurance that the idea of treasonous acts would cause deep anxiety. It was very unlikely that reason to destroy an Agent from within the Program itself had ever come up.
Until, that is, now...
There was no pretense of friendliness in the emerald eyes as they stared down the newcomer, who smiled cheerfully despite the blank expression and deep-rooted hostility pouring out at her from the stoic, black-haired woman. There was no open rage, and certainly no trace of contempt, for she knew well what she was now facing. The stillness of her body and steadiness of her hard gaze was more than enough.
A long moment lingered then - a tension in the air that was completely one-sided, for any such tension exuded by the newcomer named Dee was well hidden in a manner of self-control that Royanna herself was presently incapable of.
Then, at long last and without uttering a word, there was a minor, almost undetectable softening of the woman’s demeanor. To the casual observer it might have appeared that she had been put at ease, though this could not be farther from the truth. Rather, the stiffness of initial recognition, akin to a deer staring into headlights but without the blank mind, was passing in order to allow the ease of mind and motion that allowed for swift and decisive action.
Though no such action was taken. Instead, without taking her eyes from those of the other, Roy hooked a thumb over the lip of the bowl of brittlenuts, lifting it and holding it out to the newcomer. She glanced from Dee to the bowl and back, clearly offering for the Agent to help herself.
As she did this, the Agent accessed the simple cybernetic interface in her mind that kept her connected to the various functions of her badge. Manipulating the rudimentary controls with thought alone, she sent payment for the food to the Off-White Dragon Noodle Bar, then sent a much larger sum into the personal account of the gentleman working behind the counter. With the surprise deposit was a simple note implying that he get lost.
Seconds later, the narrow-featured man glanced to his own pocket-terminal, blinked with clear surprise, then hastily made with turning the various pots and pans down to a simmer, and switching the various OPEN signs situated around the bar to CLOSED. Then, without a word, he disappeared into the back room.
Now, save for several miscellaneous passers-by just out of hearing range down the hallway, the three of them were alone. Their privacy would have been more thorough had the Noodle Bar been an actual building built into the station wall rather than a simple thing barely embedded in the hallway - but the hallway was something of a side-passage and not well traveled, and it would serve.
Regardless of whether Dee accepted or refused a brittlenut, Roy set the bowl carefully back onto the bar, still without taking her hard, unwavering gaze from the eyes of the other Agent.
When she spoke, her voice was relatively soft, but the firmness and coldness made it clear that every inflection had been measured to an iota, and she was not at all happy with any of it. Yet she was polite enough, and civil. Always civil
”Talk, then.” She said, as if truly to convey ’Speak your piece and be done with it.’
LoneWorld
Forest
Where the arrow might have hit was of no consequence to the woman who bore the snow-white fur cloak and razor bone dagger. It only made sense that it would be aimed at her - so she did not watch either the tool or the projectile past the split second of realization.
As her opponent began his attack, the huntress feinted to one side, nimbly as some Eastern shadow-warrior. The dagger spun naturally in her fingers so as to be held in reverse in an entirely unconscious gesture.
Had he truly been intent to skewer her, she would have shot through the plan with ease, lunging at him as he notched another shot.
She lunged, ducking forth as she did so - but was met instead with a meaty shoulder that struck with twice the velocity and force as the mightiest beasts of the Wildwood. She had played right into his trap - and besides that, had simply not anticipated such speed from the lumbering giant of a man.
”Underestimating again, cocky!” Akota crooned, from her memories.
Beneath the staggering force of her opponent’s iron charge, the woman was able to do little more than score a few grazing stabs with the bone dagger in the general vicinity of his side, or maybe lower back. The lung-voiding pain in her chest shot through her body like thunder, weakening her so that the few strikes she did land were little more than small, though stinging punctures. Even as she did so, she attempted a retreat - but succeeded only in stumbling helplessly backwards toward the lip of the cave and the deadly drop below.
That was fine for her, though - she knew that her own death would likely not follow such a plunge. She knew all the holds to grab, all the branches to reach for. It was her advantage over him, whose beefy fingers would be too thick to grasp the meager handholds and whose great bulk would bend or snap the branches like twigs. Even as she saw herself being plowed directly toward this leap of faith, she was prepared for it.
Yet again the brute managed to trick her! This time she was downright disgusted with herself for having fallen for not one, but two misdirections.
”What, you think because he is big, it makes him stupid?” Akota teased, from the past. Cheeky and infuriating, even in death.
In the instant before she would have let herself fall backwards off the lip of the cave to nimbly grab a lifeline and position herself for a counterattack, the bastard’s arm shot out and caught her wrist in one, great hand. It clamped down on her tendons in a manner that was clearly intended to force her into dropping the weapon, but in this she would not be moved - her own grip bit down on the dagger with a comparable force to the vice he had captured her in, and the blade remained.
Not that it it would do her any good. Even as she insured this minor victory, she knew the fluid movement of their battle would put her in a vulnerable position - the best she could do was let it happen...Much to her own frustration.
The woman gave an angry grunt of discomfort as her head was shoved down beneath the man’s sizable palms, her arms spread uselessly out to either side. She breathed heavily, still trying to recover from the blow to her sternum while simultaneously clenching her fist around the little tool that might well save her life...If she had a chance to use it.
For a moment after her opponent spoke - she could feel his breath in her hair, and rather hated it - the woman remained obstinately silent. Then, she defiantly spit onto the floor of the cave at their feet - the only real show of opposition she could muster in so helpless a state.
"Y'ai breath reeks of lies, Starlander.” She growled pointedly, the venomous revulsion dripping from each word. Not fond of liars, apparently - and the way she spat ’Starlander’ was almost a token of petty defiance in itself. "I will palaver not to one what sails the star-black but can nay speak true...And to she in honest battle! Dishonor on ye' if such be the way of Starland..”
Had she seen through his facade so easily? The woman seemed disgusted, even disappointed at her opponent’s words - as if she would simply not put up with such dishonorable tomfoolery. And indeed, it was the nonsense about honest battle that had bothered her more than the threat of a double-suicide which she found to be equally improbable.
There was another long moment of quiet before she moved again, with her own startling speed and still more impressive strength - hardly anything compared to the might of Jet, but remarkably powerful nonetheless. Having paid careful attention to his breathing, she waited until he was exhaling - a small detail, but important - to thrust her elbows downward, pulling apart her captor’s locked hands and breaking his grip, just for a split second. A split second was all she needed. In the same gesture, the woman curled in on herself, shifting one leg behind Jet’s and, with his arms still pinned under her own for that precious half-second, reached around the back of his knee in order to pull it out from under him and complete the maneuver.
But, of course, instead of grabbing the knee - which she knew perfectly well was too like a great redwood tree and would not topple at what strength she could offer - she stabbed him in the back of the calf - as deep and as long as she would have to in order to throw him off balance and escape the hold for real by wriggling and diving away from him.
At that point, if he seemed for some reason about to topple off the cliff himself, she would reach out and grab him, and yank him back toward her before hopping back away from him herself.
Otherwise, she would simply step away, not quite putting her back to the wall of her shelter, and brandish the dagger boldly while glaring at him with fierce, golden eyes and a snarl that was almost a grin.
"Do ye’well call me ’simple hunter’ over still, aye?” She taunted, dripping with well-deserved confidence. Then, wth more snap to the tone, she challenged "Be done now ye’, or fight on, ah Starlander? No shame in a backdown, true's ever say all.”
And the last part, though spoken with feisty challenge, yet rang as truth. It seemed that she would well honor one who would back down in battle just as she would honor a victor. Anything, it seemed, was better than a liar...
It was by sheer force of will and long practice alone that kept Royanna Kallenger from jumping at the sight of the newcomer. A similar depth of willpower kept her from dwelling too much on how thoroughly disgusted she was with herself for having allowed this threat to get so close to them without noticing or even suspecting.
Were her instincts so dulled? Had she become so complacent, had sloth so overcome her in these latter days? Now was not the time to dwell upon it, no matter how shrilly he insecurities called to her with their temptations of spiraling self-loathing and burgeoning madness.
Instead, Royanna’s jaw tightened. Her posture stiffened - but otherwise she appeared more or less unfazed. Only the highly trained eyes of an Imperial Special Agent - or the intuitive senses of a solitary companion - would notice the change.
She had expected what role this newcomer may have been occupying from the instant their eyes met, and the diamond shaped, blue and green holographed badge subtly hidden in the palm of her cheerfully waving hand was beyond solid proof.
It was a badge identical to the one that Royanna herself carried - though her own was presently separated into two halves, one in the possession of her canid friend. It was a vastly powerful technological relic intrusted to only the most capable and high-ranking members of the Ardellan Imperial Forces.
It was the badge of an Imperial Special Agent.
Even as the newcomer sat in the seat next to her, she resented the smooth and sociable way this newcomer was able to smile at her. Even as her eyes, steadily locked on the mismatched orbs of the other with no pretense of friendliness. Within seconds, at least a dozen means of subduing the white-clad Agent, of striking her down, slaughtering her where she sat had shot through Roy's head. But simultaneously she was well aware that for every attack, maneuver or action she could think of, this agent would have a counter.
Not all Agents were of precisely the same level of experience and skill, but that meant nothing. Outright battles between Agents were unheard of, and for two to fight would be an unstoppable object versus an immovable object. There was no reason to think that a conflict between the two of them would be anything but a life ans death gamble.
Such a battle was unheard of. If one had occurred in the past, it had been cleanly and thoroughly wiped from all records, likely by Malbec himself. Agents had limited contact with each other to begin with. If at some point one Agent had been tasked with dispatching another, it was the last thing that others would ever be allowed to know of.
But Imperial Agents were on the same side. They were tested thoroughly for loyalty to the cause and to the Empire. They were put through harrowing ‘mind conditioning’ as insurance that the idea of treasonous acts would cause deep anxiety. It was very unlikely that reason to destroy an Agent from within the Program itself had ever come up.
Until, that is, now...
There was no pretense of friendliness in the emerald eyes as they stared down the newcomer, who smiled cheerfully despite the blank expression and deep-rooted hostility pouring out at her from the stoic, black-haired woman. There was no open rage, and certainly no trace of contempt, for she knew well what she was now facing. The stillness of her body and steadiness of her hard gaze was more than enough.
A long moment lingered then - a tension in the air that was completely one-sided, for any such tension exuded by the newcomer named Dee was well hidden in a manner of self-control that Royanna herself was presently incapable of.
Then, at long last and without uttering a word, there was a minor, almost undetectable softening of the woman’s demeanor. To the casual observer it might have appeared that she had been put at ease, though this could not be farther from the truth. Rather, the stiffness of initial recognition, akin to a deer staring into headlights but without the blank mind, was passing in order to allow the ease of mind and motion that allowed for swift and decisive action.
Though no such action was taken. Instead, without taking her eyes from those of the other, Roy hooked a thumb over the lip of the bowl of brittlenuts, lifting it and holding it out to the newcomer. She glanced from Dee to the bowl and back, clearly offering for the Agent to help herself.
As she did this, the Agent accessed the simple cybernetic interface in her mind that kept her connected to the various functions of her badge. Manipulating the rudimentary controls with thought alone, she sent payment for the food to the Off-White Dragon Noodle Bar, then sent a much larger sum into the personal account of the gentleman working behind the counter. With the surprise deposit was a simple note implying that he get lost.
Seconds later, the narrow-featured man glanced to his own pocket-terminal, blinked with clear surprise, then hastily made with turning the various pots and pans down to a simmer, and switching the various OPEN signs situated around the bar to CLOSED. Then, without a word, he disappeared into the back room.
Now, save for several miscellaneous passers-by just out of hearing range down the hallway, the three of them were alone. Their privacy would have been more thorough had the Noodle Bar been an actual building built into the station wall rather than a simple thing barely embedded in the hallway - but the hallway was something of a side-passage and not well traveled, and it would serve.
Regardless of whether Dee accepted or refused a brittlenut, Roy set the bowl carefully back onto the bar, still without taking her hard, unwavering gaze from the eyes of the other Agent.
When she spoke, her voice was relatively soft, but the firmness and coldness made it clear that every inflection had been measured to an iota, and she was not at all happy with any of it. Yet she was polite enough, and civil. Always civil
”Talk, then.” She said, as if truly to convey ’Speak your piece and be done with it.’
LoneWorld
Forest
Where the arrow might have hit was of no consequence to the woman who bore the snow-white fur cloak and razor bone dagger. It only made sense that it would be aimed at her - so she did not watch either the tool or the projectile past the split second of realization.
As her opponent began his attack, the huntress feinted to one side, nimbly as some Eastern shadow-warrior. The dagger spun naturally in her fingers so as to be held in reverse in an entirely unconscious gesture.
Had he truly been intent to skewer her, she would have shot through the plan with ease, lunging at him as he notched another shot.
She lunged, ducking forth as she did so - but was met instead with a meaty shoulder that struck with twice the velocity and force as the mightiest beasts of the Wildwood. She had played right into his trap - and besides that, had simply not anticipated such speed from the lumbering giant of a man.
”Underestimating again, cocky!” Akota crooned, from her memories.
Beneath the staggering force of her opponent’s iron charge, the woman was able to do little more than score a few grazing stabs with the bone dagger in the general vicinity of his side, or maybe lower back. The lung-voiding pain in her chest shot through her body like thunder, weakening her so that the few strikes she did land were little more than small, though stinging punctures. Even as she did so, she attempted a retreat - but succeeded only in stumbling helplessly backwards toward the lip of the cave and the deadly drop below.
That was fine for her, though - she knew that her own death would likely not follow such a plunge. She knew all the holds to grab, all the branches to reach for. It was her advantage over him, whose beefy fingers would be too thick to grasp the meager handholds and whose great bulk would bend or snap the branches like twigs. Even as she saw herself being plowed directly toward this leap of faith, she was prepared for it.
Yet again the brute managed to trick her! This time she was downright disgusted with herself for having fallen for not one, but two misdirections.
”What, you think because he is big, it makes him stupid?” Akota teased, from the past. Cheeky and infuriating, even in death.
In the instant before she would have let herself fall backwards off the lip of the cave to nimbly grab a lifeline and position herself for a counterattack, the bastard’s arm shot out and caught her wrist in one, great hand. It clamped down on her tendons in a manner that was clearly intended to force her into dropping the weapon, but in this she would not be moved - her own grip bit down on the dagger with a comparable force to the vice he had captured her in, and the blade remained.
Not that it it would do her any good. Even as she insured this minor victory, she knew the fluid movement of their battle would put her in a vulnerable position - the best she could do was let it happen...Much to her own frustration.
The woman gave an angry grunt of discomfort as her head was shoved down beneath the man’s sizable palms, her arms spread uselessly out to either side. She breathed heavily, still trying to recover from the blow to her sternum while simultaneously clenching her fist around the little tool that might well save her life...If she had a chance to use it.
For a moment after her opponent spoke - she could feel his breath in her hair, and rather hated it - the woman remained obstinately silent. Then, she defiantly spit onto the floor of the cave at their feet - the only real show of opposition she could muster in so helpless a state.
"Y'ai breath reeks of lies, Starlander.” She growled pointedly, the venomous revulsion dripping from each word. Not fond of liars, apparently - and the way she spat ’Starlander’ was almost a token of petty defiance in itself. "I will palaver not to one what sails the star-black but can nay speak true...And to she in honest battle! Dishonor on ye' if such be the way of Starland..”
Had she seen through his facade so easily? The woman seemed disgusted, even disappointed at her opponent’s words - as if she would simply not put up with such dishonorable tomfoolery. And indeed, it was the nonsense about honest battle that had bothered her more than the threat of a double-suicide which she found to be equally improbable.
There was another long moment of quiet before she moved again, with her own startling speed and still more impressive strength - hardly anything compared to the might of Jet, but remarkably powerful nonetheless. Having paid careful attention to his breathing, she waited until he was exhaling - a small detail, but important - to thrust her elbows downward, pulling apart her captor’s locked hands and breaking his grip, just for a split second. A split second was all she needed. In the same gesture, the woman curled in on herself, shifting one leg behind Jet’s and, with his arms still pinned under her own for that precious half-second, reached around the back of his knee in order to pull it out from under him and complete the maneuver.
But, of course, instead of grabbing the knee - which she knew perfectly well was too like a great redwood tree and would not topple at what strength she could offer - she stabbed him in the back of the calf - as deep and as long as she would have to in order to throw him off balance and escape the hold for real by wriggling and diving away from him.
At that point, if he seemed for some reason about to topple off the cliff himself, she would reach out and grab him, and yank him back toward her before hopping back away from him herself.
Otherwise, she would simply step away, not quite putting her back to the wall of her shelter, and brandish the dagger boldly while glaring at him with fierce, golden eyes and a snarl that was almost a grin.
"Do ye’well call me ’simple hunter’ over still, aye?” She taunted, dripping with well-deserved confidence. Then, wth more snap to the tone, she challenged "Be done now ye’, or fight on, ah Starlander? No shame in a backdown, true's ever say all.”
And the last part, though spoken with feisty challenge, yet rang as truth. It seemed that she would well honor one who would back down in battle just as she would honor a victor. Anything, it seemed, was better than a liar...
New Vegas
With Ketin and Hayden at the bar, no doubt both were drinking an up-scene amount of alcohol and made worse with Hayden keep passing Ketin shot after shot after shot with drink after drink after drink. Hayden was blasted himself from the amount of alcohol he drank barely able to stand straight and just wobbled around in one place. He just looked at Ketin with eyes that say "I want you", but he laughed with boy and danced with him if he so wanted. With music blaring, sounds of people winning and chips being passed on with cheers and cries of people around, it was definitely something from another world. Everyone was away from the troubles of the galaxy for vice and sin and to do so in peace...not quite though. Hayden would then warp his arm around the fox's head spoke to him like he knew him forever "Y-you knowish kid, thatttt IIII like you. If youish need a place to crash...my place is openish to you!" he declares in slurs as he points to the boys chest as he smiles with his rosey red cheeks. "Hell stay for eternity if you wishhhh" he slurs before leaning back and laughing loudly as he releases from Ketin before leaning back onto the bar
As for Nirix, some one else has an eye for her. A man in a blue open coat with a button white shirt and vibrate blue eyes and flowing blond locks of hair. If one hadn't none any better, he would seem to be some sort of prince charming, but his outfit does scream nobleman. He had a nice glass full of Du pont rum. He eyed Nirix from a distance and slowly made his way through the crowd, he grabbed another glass. He shuffles over towards her and leans against a wall a little bit distance away, his face was young, yet showed off his beauty that also went well with his charming white teeth. He hadn't seen that she was on a communicator as he walks up to her and gives her a little bow. "Hello, my beautiful madame, I see you here alone keeping an eye on someone yes?" he says to her as he glances in the direction of where she was looking at, towards Ketin. "Oh it seems you be may be a while then" as he gave her a charming smile. "My name is Luke Richelieu and it is a pleasure to meet you, would you like to drink with me? It is the finest rum in the galaxy, I bet you will like it, it's smooth yet gives very minimal the burning sensation in your throat and it tastes sweet, trust me" he greets himself as he presents her the glass he took from a waiter, giving her a nice friendly smile.
For Arnaldo, he got a completely different visitor, someone who would less likely to show up. A bottle of possibly Arnaldo's beer was handed to him uncapped, by a pale hand coming from behind him. "I think you may want this" the feminine voice spoke as she walked in front of him for that grandfather like man could see who passed him the beer. The woman was no other than Lord Ova! However her outfit was a bit different, going with the old blue D'Artagnan outfit with hat included, yet she still has her long black hair and red eyes. She smiles as she holds a glass of wine. "I don't think we met, Arnaldo, but before you freak out I'm not here for you or your posse, just here to unwind a little" as she takes a seat and gestures the old man in front to have a seat in front of her. She takes a sip of her wine "Tell me, Arnaldo what is a man like you hanging around a hardcore assassin and a mass murderer? For a former investigator/cop it seems a bit...puzzling for you to team up and yet care for those two. So did they promise you riches or did they promise you other things?"
She leans forward with a toothy smile on her face "Or did you just happen to be following because fate has told you so? Are you a man who believes in superstition? Or one of many who are...atheistic towards beliefs especially in this day of age?"
With Ketin and Hayden at the bar, no doubt both were drinking an up-scene amount of alcohol and made worse with Hayden keep passing Ketin shot after shot after shot with drink after drink after drink. Hayden was blasted himself from the amount of alcohol he drank barely able to stand straight and just wobbled around in one place. He just looked at Ketin with eyes that say "I want you", but he laughed with boy and danced with him if he so wanted. With music blaring, sounds of people winning and chips being passed on with cheers and cries of people around, it was definitely something from another world. Everyone was away from the troubles of the galaxy for vice and sin and to do so in peace...not quite though. Hayden would then warp his arm around the fox's head spoke to him like he knew him forever "Y-you knowish kid, thatttt IIII like you. If youish need a place to crash...my place is openish to you!" he declares in slurs as he points to the boys chest as he smiles with his rosey red cheeks. "Hell stay for eternity if you wishhhh" he slurs before leaning back and laughing loudly as he releases from Ketin before leaning back onto the bar
As for Nirix, some one else has an eye for her. A man in a blue open coat with a button white shirt and vibrate blue eyes and flowing blond locks of hair. If one hadn't none any better, he would seem to be some sort of prince charming, but his outfit does scream nobleman. He had a nice glass full of Du pont rum. He eyed Nirix from a distance and slowly made his way through the crowd, he grabbed another glass. He shuffles over towards her and leans against a wall a little bit distance away, his face was young, yet showed off his beauty that also went well with his charming white teeth. He hadn't seen that she was on a communicator as he walks up to her and gives her a little bow. "Hello, my beautiful madame, I see you here alone keeping an eye on someone yes?" he says to her as he glances in the direction of where she was looking at, towards Ketin. "Oh it seems you be may be a while then" as he gave her a charming smile. "My name is Luke Richelieu and it is a pleasure to meet you, would you like to drink with me? It is the finest rum in the galaxy, I bet you will like it, it's smooth yet gives very minimal the burning sensation in your throat and it tastes sweet, trust me" he greets himself as he presents her the glass he took from a waiter, giving her a nice friendly smile.
For Arnaldo, he got a completely different visitor, someone who would less likely to show up. A bottle of possibly Arnaldo's beer was handed to him uncapped, by a pale hand coming from behind him. "I think you may want this" the feminine voice spoke as she walked in front of him for that grandfather like man could see who passed him the beer. The woman was no other than Lord Ova! However her outfit was a bit different, going with the old blue D'Artagnan outfit with hat included, yet she still has her long black hair and red eyes. She smiles as she holds a glass of wine. "I don't think we met, Arnaldo, but before you freak out I'm not here for you or your posse, just here to unwind a little" as she takes a seat and gestures the old man in front to have a seat in front of her. She takes a sip of her wine "Tell me, Arnaldo what is a man like you hanging around a hardcore assassin and a mass murderer? For a former investigator/cop it seems a bit...puzzling for you to team up and yet care for those two. So did they promise you riches or did they promise you other things?"
She leans forward with a toothy smile on her face "Or did you just happen to be following because fate has told you so? Are you a man who believes in superstition? Or one of many who are...atheistic towards beliefs especially in this day of age?"
Christofer, in return to all of Royanna's nods took the role of a listener as she replied to his concerns on being 'obvious'. Slowly eating on the side, but maintaining eye contact whenever, he'd be paying attention in-between making sure to not burn his tongue.
"Aah... So... That'd make the planet I'm from quite diverse?" Tipping his head to the side, partly out of curiosity as he was confirming the collected information, taking a sip from the familiarly colored drink while he listened on. Well it was something. He'd have considered that all planets capable of having life on them would be similar, but it did make sense to him that there'd be 'jungle planets' and such. He was learning something new. He wouldn't mind not knowing of Roy's past. She wasn't bringing it up in the slightest, so his curious thoughts and questions were kept at bay and occupied with other things.
"Ja, I, I could say it's something. I've always considered people all sorts of different, so with different climates, cultures and such there was always a lot to think about and new things to learn." Things were different and varied because the starting points were different and varied. Makes sense? To him it did.
The canid himself was eating at his own pace as the conversation moved around. He'd not be done as quickly as Roy, but he wouldn't be too far from being done when she offered the brittlenuts to him. Familiar yet not familiar, he'd examine them as he finished the noodles, cleaning up the bowl and placing his utensils neatly on top of it. "Ah, yes, I do like dessert." At least he was trying to still be proper and careful even if the thought of something sweet had his inner mind jumping like he was 10 years younger and it was candy day. And it might as well have been - he tried to hold his excitement to a minimum, but a small tail wag could not be helped as he did gingerly and carefully pick one of the nuts to bite a small piece of as a test. "Oh, these are good~" Smiling openly, he'd have to really thank the cook later.
With all the food and drinks he was surely getting his fill.
And also a healthy but unhealthy amount of distraction from the activities of past days. He was reverting back to being carefree over all the cautious behaviour he had grown into from before.
Christofer would notice Royanna's stiffening first before the newcomer, ears perking up half way as eyes clearly shifted their course to pay mind on what was going on. It was almost automatic for him to try and start saying 'what is it?' until his gaze drifted just that little bit to notice that there was now a new particle to the conversation at hand.
Dee, her cheery attitude catching his own, perhaps from the lack of exposure to such emotions, Christofer would not consider the thought of picking up the bowl that held the brittlenuts in it - he'd cheerfully offer to share them with a person that presented themselves as one of Royanna's comrades. Although, as it were, he'd be stopped. It had been an instant thought of him to 'hey, this person seems nice, I'll wholely drop my guard just because acting like this here has seemed like something unheard of, let me return the nice favour'. Naive. His only concern on second thought had been if Kallenger was ok with sharing, he'd have stopped to look at her to ask for confirmation, but instead, surprisingly, she got there first. Canid could only blink at the exchange and tipping of situation and their roles, letting out a silent "Oh." as it were, unsure on what else to say. He sure wasn't going to complain over her being more open, even if it made him look just that little bit more insignificant. But hey, maybe that was good? If they wanted less attention on him and all that...
Well, it looks like he wasn't told to leave though. Attention was certainly paid and given to the supposed chef making their way to the backroom and all the signs being switched and so forth. Oh, things were serious weren't they? There were parts of past scattered memories telling him that he should get up and go outside to leave the 'big people' talk on their own. That's what he had always done. That's what They had always organized such meetings into. He wasn't important enough to listen in. If there was something that he needed to be filled in they'd be told and explained to him afterwards by someone else, not firsthand by the big people unless he knew them and they knew him.
He could always have ask-stated 'I shouldn't really be here, should I?' but he refrained from speaking for now. He wasn't asked to speak, so he wouldn't. Like the obedient underling he was.
So.. It was all a little strange and the clear hesitation could easily be told from him, not as able to hide and control his emotions as it was. Ears folded back, fiddling fingers, eyes looking somewhere else, likely scanning the floor as if he was looking after a coin that had fallen from someone else's pocket. Oh yeah. He wasn't sure if he should be there, but tail was wrapped around his seat, to keep it from wagging at a stranger earlier and now to forcefully keep him seated until told otherwise.
And if told otherwise, he would indeed get up and back away, though depending on the person who gave the orders, it'd be either just a little bit away, on the other side of seats on the bar, or where ever Royanna wanted for him to wait - with slight complaining over her own safety even if he trusted her with his life.
Yep, he was new to this, but also not. Make up your mind, or have it be made for you.
"Aah... So... That'd make the planet I'm from quite diverse?" Tipping his head to the side, partly out of curiosity as he was confirming the collected information, taking a sip from the familiarly colored drink while he listened on. Well it was something. He'd have considered that all planets capable of having life on them would be similar, but it did make sense to him that there'd be 'jungle planets' and such. He was learning something new. He wouldn't mind not knowing of Roy's past. She wasn't bringing it up in the slightest, so his curious thoughts and questions were kept at bay and occupied with other things.
"Ja, I, I could say it's something. I've always considered people all sorts of different, so with different climates, cultures and such there was always a lot to think about and new things to learn." Things were different and varied because the starting points were different and varied. Makes sense? To him it did.
The canid himself was eating at his own pace as the conversation moved around. He'd not be done as quickly as Roy, but he wouldn't be too far from being done when she offered the brittlenuts to him. Familiar yet not familiar, he'd examine them as he finished the noodles, cleaning up the bowl and placing his utensils neatly on top of it. "Ah, yes, I do like dessert." At least he was trying to still be proper and careful even if the thought of something sweet had his inner mind jumping like he was 10 years younger and it was candy day. And it might as well have been - he tried to hold his excitement to a minimum, but a small tail wag could not be helped as he did gingerly and carefully pick one of the nuts to bite a small piece of as a test. "Oh, these are good~" Smiling openly, he'd have to really thank the cook later.
With all the food and drinks he was surely getting his fill.
And also a healthy but unhealthy amount of distraction from the activities of past days. He was reverting back to being carefree over all the cautious behaviour he had grown into from before.
Christofer would notice Royanna's stiffening first before the newcomer, ears perking up half way as eyes clearly shifted their course to pay mind on what was going on. It was almost automatic for him to try and start saying 'what is it?' until his gaze drifted just that little bit to notice that there was now a new particle to the conversation at hand.
Dee, her cheery attitude catching his own, perhaps from the lack of exposure to such emotions, Christofer would not consider the thought of picking up the bowl that held the brittlenuts in it - he'd cheerfully offer to share them with a person that presented themselves as one of Royanna's comrades. Although, as it were, he'd be stopped. It had been an instant thought of him to 'hey, this person seems nice, I'll wholely drop my guard just because acting like this here has seemed like something unheard of, let me return the nice favour'. Naive. His only concern on second thought had been if Kallenger was ok with sharing, he'd have stopped to look at her to ask for confirmation, but instead, surprisingly, she got there first. Canid could only blink at the exchange and tipping of situation and their roles, letting out a silent "Oh." as it were, unsure on what else to say. He sure wasn't going to complain over her being more open, even if it made him look just that little bit more insignificant. But hey, maybe that was good? If they wanted less attention on him and all that...
Well, it looks like he wasn't told to leave though. Attention was certainly paid and given to the supposed chef making their way to the backroom and all the signs being switched and so forth. Oh, things were serious weren't they? There were parts of past scattered memories telling him that he should get up and go outside to leave the 'big people' talk on their own. That's what he had always done. That's what They had always organized such meetings into. He wasn't important enough to listen in. If there was something that he needed to be filled in they'd be told and explained to him afterwards by someone else, not firsthand by the big people unless he knew them and they knew him.
He could always have ask-stated 'I shouldn't really be here, should I?' but he refrained from speaking for now. He wasn't asked to speak, so he wouldn't. Like the obedient underling he was.
So.. It was all a little strange and the clear hesitation could easily be told from him, not as able to hide and control his emotions as it was. Ears folded back, fiddling fingers, eyes looking somewhere else, likely scanning the floor as if he was looking after a coin that had fallen from someone else's pocket. Oh yeah. He wasn't sure if he should be there, but tail was wrapped around his seat, to keep it from wagging at a stranger earlier and now to forcefully keep him seated until told otherwise.
And if told otherwise, he would indeed get up and back away, though depending on the person who gave the orders, it'd be either just a little bit away, on the other side of seats on the bar, or where ever Royanna wanted for him to wait - with slight complaining over her own safety even if he trusted her with his life.
Yep, he was new to this, but also not. Make up your mind, or have it be made for you.
Tora Station
Kampfer grinned as he saw Kellenger and her pet dog dip into some noodle shop in a less traveled hallway. "I found zem, fool" he states as he yanks the arm of the tan boy holding the evil toaster. "Ah you don't have to pull me" he complains as they make their way towards the noodle place. However it was such a bad time since for some reason the station became really pack and it was quite hard to maneuver. He eventually made it out of the crowd as both Kampfer and Julian enter the almost deserted hallway seeing Kellenger, her dog and an android talking. Kampfer clenched his teeth seeing that the oversize bot beat him to Kellenger but that was nothing to worry about. He would slowly approach them as he holds a folder in his now visible claw hand. as he smirks as he holds onto the boy next to him.
"Vell, vell, vell, here I zought I vould never see you again, Agent Kellenger" Kampfer says as he immediately hands her the folder that has Malbec's signature on it. "Before you blow up in excitement in seeing me, you should read zat first before you do anything zat ve both vill regret" he says to her with a smirk on his face since within the folder it would not only pull up Nocturnus's file, the situation with Lord Ova and her growing empire, and the cooperation between Kampfer's empire and the Imperials...thus having Diplomatic immunity. "Me and your boss had a excellent chat by ze way" he comments as he then faces the other agent, ignoring the Toffi.
"As for you Unit, I'll be done in a quick jiffy as ze old saying goes" as he smirks at her before looking back at Kellenger. Sure his intrusion was a bit rude one would say, but Kampfer needed to get Julian off his hands and he knew he would be perfectly to stay with Kellenger and a team member she wouldn't be able to get killed easily while he goes back out in not only dealing with Ova and her forces, but also find Zeta.
Kampfer grinned as he saw Kellenger and her pet dog dip into some noodle shop in a less traveled hallway. "I found zem, fool" he states as he yanks the arm of the tan boy holding the evil toaster. "Ah you don't have to pull me" he complains as they make their way towards the noodle place. However it was such a bad time since for some reason the station became really pack and it was quite hard to maneuver. He eventually made it out of the crowd as both Kampfer and Julian enter the almost deserted hallway seeing Kellenger, her dog and an android talking. Kampfer clenched his teeth seeing that the oversize bot beat him to Kellenger but that was nothing to worry about. He would slowly approach them as he holds a folder in his now visible claw hand. as he smirks as he holds onto the boy next to him.
"Vell, vell, vell, here I zought I vould never see you again, Agent Kellenger" Kampfer says as he immediately hands her the folder that has Malbec's signature on it. "Before you blow up in excitement in seeing me, you should read zat first before you do anything zat ve both vill regret" he says to her with a smirk on his face since within the folder it would not only pull up Nocturnus's file, the situation with Lord Ova and her growing empire, and the cooperation between Kampfer's empire and the Imperials...thus having Diplomatic immunity. "Me and your boss had a excellent chat by ze way" he comments as he then faces the other agent, ignoring the Toffi.
"As for you Unit, I'll be done in a quick jiffy as ze old saying goes" as he smirks at her before looking back at Kellenger. Sure his intrusion was a bit rude one would say, but Kampfer needed to get Julian off his hands and he knew he would be perfectly to stay with Kellenger and a team member she wouldn't be able to get killed easily while he goes back out in not only dealing with Ova and her forces, but also find Zeta.
(Hope this is ok for an entrance. Fair warning, Dhari is in near constant contact with his crew. But most of them is just to flesh out the posts...and provide some hopefully hilarious moments.)
+ New Vegas +
"This is Dhari Ket, we're flying the Corigoni passenger and cargo ship. Requesting permission to enter the teleporter for unloading to New Vegas please." A somewhat bored voice spoke into the com system as the ship was maneuvered into a neutral position so it wasn't mistaken for a threat. His voice sounded bored, as it was his normal tone. Being captain and owner of the luxury passenger, and cargo ship. Piercing yellow eyes looked onto the various screens in from of him. A scar was visible from just underneath his left eye, but it vanished further down as he was fully dressed in his black pilot's gear from the bridge of his nose, down to his feet. He wore thick black boots. His white hair was very....VERY....messy. And yet strangely there were no knots in it. His hair was somewhat short.
"Sy, keep us steady right here." He spoke simply to his co-pilot. Sy's cybernetic eyes scanned the systems, as she made sure to keep the ship steady as instructed. Moving her head sharply to one side to move a strand of red hair from her eyes. She too wore pilot's gear, but hers were gray in color. She was tall and slender.
"Aye Captain. The Corigoni is steady and waiting for further instruction." She replied back quietly.
"Captain since it's Vegas...why not spend a few days there? It could be fun! We don't have to leave for a few days anyhow." Spoke a squeaky voice. It belonged to Anna Rosa, a short woman with short white hair and white clothing. Her pale blue eyes looked at the Captain pleadingly. Dhari looked at her where she works at one of the major system's consoles, and scratches his head thoughtfully. It was true, they were ferrying many passengers to this place, along with various supplies. And after delivery they did have a few days for refueling and leaving. Yawning a bit, he shrugs his shoulders before speaking.
"Eh...sure. But don't get carried away." He looks at her with his piercing gaze. There was a seriousness in them as his arms crossed. But the jilum merely smirked as her eyes light up eagerly.
"Heh...that piercing look don't work on us remember? Only works on unnerving humans! Hahahaha!!" Anna bursts out laughing. Tod, who is sitting next to her scolds her with a frown.
"Hey! I'm right here ya know! I may only be half human but still!" The tall blonde man says indignantly huffing at her. He was half jilum. Anna turns to him and sticks out her tongue.
"Oh please! You know I'm only kidding! Besides...you like it! Ha!" Tod opens his mouth then thinks better of it and closes it again. Settling for just a scowl instead. This makes Anna laugh more.
"Se'le do'n you two." Speaks a tall reptilian male, clothed in simple gear. The second-in-command, Codi. His cloudy blue irises look at the two jilums before looking back over to his Captain only to blink. Dhari's yellow eyes were closed as he just stood there. His head slightly tilted back. Codi watches him for a moment then realizes he had fell asleep standing. Again. Shaking his head, Cody walks towards him in a few paces. Grabbing his shoulder and roughly shakes it.
"Capt'n. Wa' up." Despite Codi's broken common speech, he manages to snap Dhari back awake.
"Huh..? Oh.. Thanks." Blinking, Dhari yawns and stretches a little. Maybe he could get some real sleep this time. The thought of possible sleep was appealing. As the coms filled with the responses finally, they gained clearance. When Sy looks up briefly at her Captain, he nods slightly. That was all she needed as she then flies the ship into the teleporter. As they arrive at the, obviously, very posh looking Vegas they are almost to their destination when Anna suddenly shouts.
"WHAT THE $#@% --" Before she can finish, however, the ship is suddenly hit by something running into it. Dhari takes over the ship, instructing Sy to engage emergency landing. Steering the Corigoni into one of the landing platforms as best he can. As he manages to keep the ship from literally spinning wildly out of control, he keeps an eye on their current speed.
"Sy adjust the emergency thrusters just a little bit. We need to slow down." As he keeps the ship steadily going towards the landing platform, Codi is instructing all passengers and personnel to be seated and to hold on. The co-pilot adjusts the spare thrusters as instructed. The Corigoni slows down just enough to make a landing without too much damage. Once they are safely on the ground, Dhari holds his hand up for silence as he starts counting. A bored tone sounding in his voice.
"..5...4...3...2...1..aaaaand.." The com starts beeping as Anna looks at it and cringes. Dhari sighs and looks over to Anna lazily.
"Just answer it. Or that angry jiki'hao is going to come up here and blow our ears off if not worse." He says, still using his bored tone. Shakily Anna clicks the com, then ducks underneath the console covering her ears. Tod does the exact same thing as the voice that comes through shouts and curses up a storm.
"WHAT THE #@%$ING @#&% IS YOUR PROBLEM?! WHO THE #@$% IS FLYING THIS MUTHA @#&$ING &%$#?!"
Sy was visibly shaking as she stares wide-eyed at the coms. She shrinks just a little. Codi stares at the com rooted to the spot. Both Anna and Tod simply cower underneath the console. Dhari? He fell asleep. People yelling always made him just want to go to sleep. Though the chronic insomnia did nothing to help. The voice that had screamed at everyone at the helm over the com was the chief of engineer, Ta'si. And she was scary when angry. The angry jiki'hao kept screaming until she paused waiting for an answer. Codi looked over to Dhari and rolled his eyes. Then shook his captain awake again. Yawning Dhari responded.
"Sorry Ta'si. Something...whatever it was...hit the ship. Not our fault." Dhari was blunt as he began to receive damage reports all over the place. A sigh escaping him as he scratches his head.
"Well, lets unload the passengers and cargo first. Then assess the damage to the ship and start on repairs I guess. As for the thing that hit us...we'll find out soon enough." Dhari headed over and out of the helm while the others quickly went about their duties, and tackle damage assessments. Dhari heads off, and stepping outside of the ship, he sees a drunken man stumbling out of the other ship. It was in worse shape because it must have hit the ground harder. Watching him, he realizes the man is drunk and shakes his head. Oh boy. What else can go wrong? Dhari yawns again, before heading over to the drunk man, getting his information then sends him off to go see Doc onboard the Corigoni. Meanwhile both the security and cargo bay crews work together to get the passengers safely unloaded. Engineering had their hands full with repairs now. And as Dhari looked around on the outside of his ship, he makes mental notes seeing one of the main thrusters is now badly damaged.
"This is going to be a long stay..." He said to himself in his usual bored tone. Then walking back into the ship, he begins lending a hand to his crew after sending out a carrier beacon to go back through the teleporter to deliver a message to his business partner. He would need to know the Corigoni was down for major repairs due to an accident. As he moved around, a creeping feeling came over him causing his body to involuntarily shudder. He takes a moment to look around to see if something was about to happen. When it didn't he shrugs off the creeping feeling to get back to repairs.
After a few hours, he heads off to the nearest building to ask about repairs. Dhari had brought with him three people. Two were from the helm that had been resting until now, the other was one of the male nurses from the medical crew. The two from the helm was Ian and Joan. Ian was tall with black hair, gray eyes and a simple black mask covering his face. Joan was somewhat short, a scar on her right cheek, her eyes like that of a tiger with light purple hair. And then there was Uma, a scrawny short fellow with a shy but kind demeanor, reddish orange hair, and vivid green eyes. The three crew members were each wearing different gear.
+ New Vegas +
"This is Dhari Ket, we're flying the Corigoni passenger and cargo ship. Requesting permission to enter the teleporter for unloading to New Vegas please." A somewhat bored voice spoke into the com system as the ship was maneuvered into a neutral position so it wasn't mistaken for a threat. His voice sounded bored, as it was his normal tone. Being captain and owner of the luxury passenger, and cargo ship. Piercing yellow eyes looked onto the various screens in from of him. A scar was visible from just underneath his left eye, but it vanished further down as he was fully dressed in his black pilot's gear from the bridge of his nose, down to his feet. He wore thick black boots. His white hair was very....VERY....messy. And yet strangely there were no knots in it. His hair was somewhat short.
"Sy, keep us steady right here." He spoke simply to his co-pilot. Sy's cybernetic eyes scanned the systems, as she made sure to keep the ship steady as instructed. Moving her head sharply to one side to move a strand of red hair from her eyes. She too wore pilot's gear, but hers were gray in color. She was tall and slender.
"Aye Captain. The Corigoni is steady and waiting for further instruction." She replied back quietly.
"Captain since it's Vegas...why not spend a few days there? It could be fun! We don't have to leave for a few days anyhow." Spoke a squeaky voice. It belonged to Anna Rosa, a short woman with short white hair and white clothing. Her pale blue eyes looked at the Captain pleadingly. Dhari looked at her where she works at one of the major system's consoles, and scratches his head thoughtfully. It was true, they were ferrying many passengers to this place, along with various supplies. And after delivery they did have a few days for refueling and leaving. Yawning a bit, he shrugs his shoulders before speaking.
"Eh...sure. But don't get carried away." He looks at her with his piercing gaze. There was a seriousness in them as his arms crossed. But the jilum merely smirked as her eyes light up eagerly.
"Heh...that piercing look don't work on us remember? Only works on unnerving humans! Hahahaha!!" Anna bursts out laughing. Tod, who is sitting next to her scolds her with a frown.
"Hey! I'm right here ya know! I may only be half human but still!" The tall blonde man says indignantly huffing at her. He was half jilum. Anna turns to him and sticks out her tongue.
"Oh please! You know I'm only kidding! Besides...you like it! Ha!" Tod opens his mouth then thinks better of it and closes it again. Settling for just a scowl instead. This makes Anna laugh more.
"Se'le do'n you two." Speaks a tall reptilian male, clothed in simple gear. The second-in-command, Codi. His cloudy blue irises look at the two jilums before looking back over to his Captain only to blink. Dhari's yellow eyes were closed as he just stood there. His head slightly tilted back. Codi watches him for a moment then realizes he had fell asleep standing. Again. Shaking his head, Cody walks towards him in a few paces. Grabbing his shoulder and roughly shakes it.
"Capt'n. Wa' up." Despite Codi's broken common speech, he manages to snap Dhari back awake.
"Huh..? Oh.. Thanks." Blinking, Dhari yawns and stretches a little. Maybe he could get some real sleep this time. The thought of possible sleep was appealing. As the coms filled with the responses finally, they gained clearance. When Sy looks up briefly at her Captain, he nods slightly. That was all she needed as she then flies the ship into the teleporter. As they arrive at the, obviously, very posh looking Vegas they are almost to their destination when Anna suddenly shouts.
"WHAT THE $#@% --" Before she can finish, however, the ship is suddenly hit by something running into it. Dhari takes over the ship, instructing Sy to engage emergency landing. Steering the Corigoni into one of the landing platforms as best he can. As he manages to keep the ship from literally spinning wildly out of control, he keeps an eye on their current speed.
"Sy adjust the emergency thrusters just a little bit. We need to slow down." As he keeps the ship steadily going towards the landing platform, Codi is instructing all passengers and personnel to be seated and to hold on. The co-pilot adjusts the spare thrusters as instructed. The Corigoni slows down just enough to make a landing without too much damage. Once they are safely on the ground, Dhari holds his hand up for silence as he starts counting. A bored tone sounding in his voice.
"..5...4...3...2...1..aaaaand.." The com starts beeping as Anna looks at it and cringes. Dhari sighs and looks over to Anna lazily.
"Just answer it. Or that angry jiki'hao is going to come up here and blow our ears off if not worse." He says, still using his bored tone. Shakily Anna clicks the com, then ducks underneath the console covering her ears. Tod does the exact same thing as the voice that comes through shouts and curses up a storm.
"WHAT THE #@%$ING @#&% IS YOUR PROBLEM?! WHO THE #@$% IS FLYING THIS MUTHA @#&$ING &%$#?!"
Sy was visibly shaking as she stares wide-eyed at the coms. She shrinks just a little. Codi stares at the com rooted to the spot. Both Anna and Tod simply cower underneath the console. Dhari? He fell asleep. People yelling always made him just want to go to sleep. Though the chronic insomnia did nothing to help. The voice that had screamed at everyone at the helm over the com was the chief of engineer, Ta'si. And she was scary when angry. The angry jiki'hao kept screaming until she paused waiting for an answer. Codi looked over to Dhari and rolled his eyes. Then shook his captain awake again. Yawning Dhari responded.
"Sorry Ta'si. Something...whatever it was...hit the ship. Not our fault." Dhari was blunt as he began to receive damage reports all over the place. A sigh escaping him as he scratches his head.
"Well, lets unload the passengers and cargo first. Then assess the damage to the ship and start on repairs I guess. As for the thing that hit us...we'll find out soon enough." Dhari headed over and out of the helm while the others quickly went about their duties, and tackle damage assessments. Dhari heads off, and stepping outside of the ship, he sees a drunken man stumbling out of the other ship. It was in worse shape because it must have hit the ground harder. Watching him, he realizes the man is drunk and shakes his head. Oh boy. What else can go wrong? Dhari yawns again, before heading over to the drunk man, getting his information then sends him off to go see Doc onboard the Corigoni. Meanwhile both the security and cargo bay crews work together to get the passengers safely unloaded. Engineering had their hands full with repairs now. And as Dhari looked around on the outside of his ship, he makes mental notes seeing one of the main thrusters is now badly damaged.
"This is going to be a long stay..." He said to himself in his usual bored tone. Then walking back into the ship, he begins lending a hand to his crew after sending out a carrier beacon to go back through the teleporter to deliver a message to his business partner. He would need to know the Corigoni was down for major repairs due to an accident. As he moved around, a creeping feeling came over him causing his body to involuntarily shudder. He takes a moment to look around to see if something was about to happen. When it didn't he shrugs off the creeping feeling to get back to repairs.
After a few hours, he heads off to the nearest building to ask about repairs. Dhari had brought with him three people. Two were from the helm that had been resting until now, the other was one of the male nurses from the medical crew. The two from the helm was Ian and Joan. Ian was tall with black hair, gray eyes and a simple black mask covering his face. Joan was somewhat short, a scar on her right cheek, her eyes like that of a tiger with light purple hair. And then there was Uma, a scrawny short fellow with a shy but kind demeanor, reddish orange hair, and vivid green eyes. The three crew members were each wearing different gear.
"A fight, huh?" Talis smirked and her eyes glittered at the opportunity. No longer leaning against the bar in a casual manner, she stood up to her full height and stared at the three men who stalked closer to them. With critical blue eyes, she hummed a note that most could not hear and with careful steps, inched closer. A breathy sigh left her lips. They were truly idiots; one racist (specists?), the other seemed to be nothing but muscle.
Ugh.
Talis had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. How stereotypical. This wasn't going to be fun at all
"Right then. This won't take too long," She muttered to the Detective with a wink.
It was obvious she was outnumbered, three against one or well four against two if you counted the brawl between scales and the Cyborgic Blob. But they are dumb and Talis was trained to handle difficult situations. A bar brawl is nothing but child's play at this point.
Approaching the first one, she casually sauntered over to him, as if she were to ask him to join her for a drink. Within a few seconds, his wrist was in her hands and with a sharp twist, she was no longer in front of him but behind his back. His arm cracked with a sickening pop and despite the screams that probably followed, Talis ignored it and only pushed further until his arm was rendered useless. Dropping his arm, she gazed up at the others that dared approach her.
"I'll kill him, you know?" She spoke so casually as if she was discussing the weather, there was no hint of a lie in her voice. "It really isn't that hard and since you ruined my fun, I might not even wait,"
Talis smiled politely but there was nothing polite about her eyes. They were dark, callous and very serious.
"Stop ruining everyone's fun and maybe I won't snap your friend into two pieces,"
Ugh.
Talis had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. How stereotypical. This wasn't going to be fun at all
"Right then. This won't take too long," She muttered to the Detective with a wink.
It was obvious she was outnumbered, three against one or well four against two if you counted the brawl between scales and the Cyborgic Blob. But they are dumb and Talis was trained to handle difficult situations. A bar brawl is nothing but child's play at this point.
Approaching the first one, she casually sauntered over to him, as if she were to ask him to join her for a drink. Within a few seconds, his wrist was in her hands and with a sharp twist, she was no longer in front of him but behind his back. His arm cracked with a sickening pop and despite the screams that probably followed, Talis ignored it and only pushed further until his arm was rendered useless. Dropping his arm, she gazed up at the others that dared approach her.
"I'll kill him, you know?" She spoke so casually as if she was discussing the weather, there was no hint of a lie in her voice. "It really isn't that hard and since you ruined my fun, I might not even wait,"
Talis smiled politely but there was nothing polite about her eyes. They were dark, callous and very serious.
"Stop ruining everyone's fun and maybe I won't snap your friend into two pieces,"
Cornfield
Rin was still brooding over his sudden healing ability when the endless miles of corn ceased… and an abandoned little village bordered by the protective fence of domesticated maize was revealed.
What disturbed Rin, he decided, was that there was no apparent sign of rampage. As far as he could tell there were no signs of damage, or ruin. It was as if its residents simply disappeared.
He turned to Ty, tilting his head towards the buildings. “We can check out the Tavern or the Grocer’s,” he suggested. He looked over Tsuan, and then himself; his nose turned up. “On second thought, maybe somewhere with a fresh change of clothes. We’ll need it.”
After all, so far there seemed to be no sign of any life in the area. And if there still was... well. It was better to wipe off all the blood and soot before they scared off any potential help.
Swamp
“We should stop here… get some rest.”
It was the Nyran who had spoken, and Reqti silently agreed, turning a bit and letting his eyes look over hir.
Ze looked awful. Ze was dusted with dirt and sweat, and had dark circles under hir eyes, like ze had no sleep- and with how he woke up- to hir standing over the both of them, surrounded by a thin film of aether- he could guess that ze were in hir last vestige of energy. Ze wouldn’t make it far- possibly collapse of exhaustion.
“It will be getting dark soon,” he replied mildly. He didn’t know if Sands knew about the Kiinri ability to see at night, but the need for rest was surely a good excuse?
City
”I get th’feelin’ we gone’ have to fight our way out.”
Vaxur sighed, slinging his rifle over to his back. He didn’t want to shoot any civilians, crazy or not, in an attempt to defend himself.
Commander Wyr nodded, and gave a gentle ‘nudge’ to her prisoner. Grumbling, the Qetan- Tahil- moved along, most likely in the name of self-preservation. Anything was better than in the middle of… whatever was happening. Mass murder, religious frenzy.
That.
The street that was deemed safest to cross was like something out of a horror holovid. The dankness, the unusual emptiness in the midst of fiery chaos, was unnerving. Vaxur clenched his fists. Commander Wyr squared her shoulders. Tahil lifted her chin defiantly.
That was when the peasants came.
”Motukka Monshuuk Kanuuk! Kanuuuuk!”
Vaxur reacted according to his training- that is, with no thought and near-deadly force. He dodged a rake, grabbed the handle, and swung, knocking over two people in the process and probably giving the owner a concussion. He grabbed one who was going for Dal by the back of his shirt and threw him over to another peasant. Crude, but effective.
Commander Wyr was doing very well. Her sheer height and more alien looks repelled two of them, with a third staring up with an insane look in his eye. She stared for a while, then reached out, flexible fingers holding him by the ankle and going up, so that the man was now screaming upside down. With a flick of her wrist, he went soaring through the air for a tragic three seconds before hitting the dirt.
Two of the people who were knocked over by Vaxur were getting up again, a bit dizzy, but still holding their weapons. One of them took a wild swing at Tahil- but was taken care of by Dal, who did not look at her. Tahil decided to ignore it, then kicked the last villager in the groin. The man’s head bent over and she brought her knee up, making his head fly up and down on the ground, unconscious.
Vaxur started moving forward again, berating himself for not keeping a sharper eye out. “Let’s get a move on before more of them appear out of nowhere,” he said, grim-faced.
“Agreed,” Commander Wyr said. Tahil huffed.
Rin was still brooding over his sudden healing ability when the endless miles of corn ceased… and an abandoned little village bordered by the protective fence of domesticated maize was revealed.
What disturbed Rin, he decided, was that there was no apparent sign of rampage. As far as he could tell there were no signs of damage, or ruin. It was as if its residents simply disappeared.
He turned to Ty, tilting his head towards the buildings. “We can check out the Tavern or the Grocer’s,” he suggested. He looked over Tsuan, and then himself; his nose turned up. “On second thought, maybe somewhere with a fresh change of clothes. We’ll need it.”
After all, so far there seemed to be no sign of any life in the area. And if there still was... well. It was better to wipe off all the blood and soot before they scared off any potential help.
Swamp
“We should stop here… get some rest.”
It was the Nyran who had spoken, and Reqti silently agreed, turning a bit and letting his eyes look over hir.
Ze looked awful. Ze was dusted with dirt and sweat, and had dark circles under hir eyes, like ze had no sleep- and with how he woke up- to hir standing over the both of them, surrounded by a thin film of aether- he could guess that ze were in hir last vestige of energy. Ze wouldn’t make it far- possibly collapse of exhaustion.
“It will be getting dark soon,” he replied mildly. He didn’t know if Sands knew about the Kiinri ability to see at night, but the need for rest was surely a good excuse?
City
”I get th’feelin’ we gone’ have to fight our way out.”
Vaxur sighed, slinging his rifle over to his back. He didn’t want to shoot any civilians, crazy or not, in an attempt to defend himself.
Commander Wyr nodded, and gave a gentle ‘nudge’ to her prisoner. Grumbling, the Qetan- Tahil- moved along, most likely in the name of self-preservation. Anything was better than in the middle of… whatever was happening. Mass murder, religious frenzy.
That.
The street that was deemed safest to cross was like something out of a horror holovid. The dankness, the unusual emptiness in the midst of fiery chaos, was unnerving. Vaxur clenched his fists. Commander Wyr squared her shoulders. Tahil lifted her chin defiantly.
That was when the peasants came.
”Motukka Monshuuk Kanuuk! Kanuuuuk!”
Vaxur reacted according to his training- that is, with no thought and near-deadly force. He dodged a rake, grabbed the handle, and swung, knocking over two people in the process and probably giving the owner a concussion. He grabbed one who was going for Dal by the back of his shirt and threw him over to another peasant. Crude, but effective.
Commander Wyr was doing very well. Her sheer height and more alien looks repelled two of them, with a third staring up with an insane look in his eye. She stared for a while, then reached out, flexible fingers holding him by the ankle and going up, so that the man was now screaming upside down. With a flick of her wrist, he went soaring through the air for a tragic three seconds before hitting the dirt.
Two of the people who were knocked over by Vaxur were getting up again, a bit dizzy, but still holding their weapons. One of them took a wild swing at Tahil- but was taken care of by Dal, who did not look at her. Tahil decided to ignore it, then kicked the last villager in the groin. The man’s head bent over and she brought her knee up, making his head fly up and down on the ground, unconscious.
Vaxur started moving forward again, berating himself for not keeping a sharper eye out. “Let’s get a move on before more of them appear out of nowhere,” he said, grim-faced.
“Agreed,” Commander Wyr said. Tahil huffed.
"Wick,"
His name came out in an unintentional slur from her lips as she let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding in.
"Wick, Hello," Nirix tried again and she let a smile slip into her face. She wasn't sure if that was an entirely good thing.
"I wanted to try your number. I see that it works," She replied and simultaneously wished she hadn't. Peering into her glass, the Eoclu wondered how much more alcohol she would need to allow her any form of social grace. Clearing her throat, she opened her mouth to speak again when her ear twitched and soft but confident footsteps made their way towards her.
Lavender eyes watched with a scrutinizing gaze as the Princely figure approached. His blue coat, bellowed behind him slightly as he walked and Nirix was ever aware of his charming smile. Did he think to seduce her?
"Wick, I ask that you excuse me for one moment," Nirix added after awhile of silence. She felt terribly rude for cutting their conversation short but it would be hard to keep track of Ketin, hold a conversation and deal with this new...encounter.
Nirix was good but not that good.
"I will be sure to call you back, this I swear," She told him and promptly hung up. Hopefully Wick might still be available and would forgive her later. Turning her attention to the Blonde just in time, she hid her communicator within the sleeve of her jacket and wore an indifferent look of mild curiosity.
"You are offering this to me?" Nirix question his intentions with a single raised brow, her mouth a thin line.
"Why?"
His name came out in an unintentional slur from her lips as she let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding in.
"Wick, Hello," Nirix tried again and she let a smile slip into her face. She wasn't sure if that was an entirely good thing.
"I wanted to try your number. I see that it works," She replied and simultaneously wished she hadn't. Peering into her glass, the Eoclu wondered how much more alcohol she would need to allow her any form of social grace. Clearing her throat, she opened her mouth to speak again when her ear twitched and soft but confident footsteps made their way towards her.
Lavender eyes watched with a scrutinizing gaze as the Princely figure approached. His blue coat, bellowed behind him slightly as he walked and Nirix was ever aware of his charming smile. Did he think to seduce her?
"Wick, I ask that you excuse me for one moment," Nirix added after awhile of silence. She felt terribly rude for cutting their conversation short but it would be hard to keep track of Ketin, hold a conversation and deal with this new...encounter.
Nirix was good but not that good.
"I will be sure to call you back, this I swear," She told him and promptly hung up. Hopefully Wick might still be available and would forgive her later. Turning her attention to the Blonde just in time, she hid her communicator within the sleeve of her jacket and wore an indifferent look of mild curiosity.
"You are offering this to me?" Nirix question his intentions with a single raised brow, her mouth a thin line.
"Why?"
Illya, The Dragon Lady
Unknown Kampfer Vessel
By now, Maria should have noticed something else about this strange being. One of her reactions to certain phrases or, lacking a better term, keywords. The way Ilya tilted her head at the first sentence surely rung bells, though Maria couldn't exactly pinpoint which word, exactly. Perhaps she was more absorbed on friendly chatter with her self-proclaimed rival rather than interrogation.
— So people fear you because of all those things? Even the movies?? — On which mentioned such. And so, said action figures. — I mean, I have ALL of them! Though I like to pluck the limb away from my robot figures, heehee. — By now, that wouldn't be even a surprise.
A real surprise was this knife game.
At first, it was very hard to coax Ilya into laying her hand like that, despite her big draconian 'smile'. Though her strange trust for Maria would eventually overcome instinct. That was a large hand. Strong fingers. Sturdy claws. But it was nothing that couldn't be pierced through with a nasty stab by a Bowie.
Harder was for Ilya to keep a hand in place while a Galaxy Wide bounty hunter fiddled with a very large knife right before her slit eyes. Her fingers shuddered along with the entirety of her arms, Ilya kept switching her look to Maria, the knife and her hand, the nervous smile soon turning into a apprehensive frown.
— Mary, um, are you sure this is going to be alri... !
It was too late for poor Ilya to do anything at this point.
If Maria knew about it, that was probably the most horrified expression Ilya had in her entire life. Now her hand went from shuddering to frozen solid. Arm as well! Each stab. Each syllable sung. She counted them all. And growing was the urge to just push her hand away from a gruesome fate. Midway through the song - so iconic it would give the dragon lady a bad case of earworms - Ilya went far ahead to hold her wrist with the other hand, as if to keep it in place or just expecting a sudden streak of blood to jump out from one of her severed fingers. It got worse. The draconian started to screech as Maria picked up the speed. Picture a cornered sauroid animal from a prehistoric-era equivalent world in the outer edges of The Galaxy Wide. She shut her eyes tight, looked away - still screeching! - and prepared for the worse.
She only went silent when Maria announced that this was the game.
Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked back to her hand. Intact. Only then the thrill crashed inside the draconian. So much that she screeched again, in amazament. In fact, the game was so exciting that entire station being tilted by an alien invasion felt like part of the show, and Ilya just kept screeching. — Aaaah, Mary! 'Lemme do it! 'Lemme do it with you, too!! - She yelled as the bounty hunter dashed for the door, Ilya naturally following behind with a wide smile on her snout.
Things turn a sharp turn in the following moments, however.
"Ilya! We're heading out!" — Maria's voice echoed silently on the draconian's head, which just made her stand in place. Processing that. Remembering that. Where she last heard that. These words burned like the fire within her core, made her blood boil and heart pump like an engine.
"Time to head out, Ilya."
"Haul ass! Head out!"
"We're under attack! Head out!"
When Maria took her gear back from the draconian, she could perceived that Ilya had changed. Not her physique but her stare. Eyelids dropped halfway, pupils going impossibly fast into a slit. The golden orbs reflecting all the alarms blaring. These were the eyes of a murderer.
— Understood. Lead the way. — And it was ready to go through anything to protect her rival, ironically.
Unknown Kampfer Vessel
By now, Maria should have noticed something else about this strange being. One of her reactions to certain phrases or, lacking a better term, keywords. The way Ilya tilted her head at the first sentence surely rung bells, though Maria couldn't exactly pinpoint which word, exactly. Perhaps she was more absorbed on friendly chatter with her self-proclaimed rival rather than interrogation.
— So people fear you because of all those things? Even the movies?? — On which mentioned such. And so, said action figures. — I mean, I have ALL of them! Though I like to pluck the limb away from my robot figures, heehee. — By now, that wouldn't be even a surprise.
A real surprise was this knife game.
At first, it was very hard to coax Ilya into laying her hand like that, despite her big draconian 'smile'. Though her strange trust for Maria would eventually overcome instinct. That was a large hand. Strong fingers. Sturdy claws. But it was nothing that couldn't be pierced through with a nasty stab by a Bowie.
Harder was for Ilya to keep a hand in place while a Galaxy Wide bounty hunter fiddled with a very large knife right before her slit eyes. Her fingers shuddered along with the entirety of her arms, Ilya kept switching her look to Maria, the knife and her hand, the nervous smile soon turning into a apprehensive frown.
— Mary, um, are you sure this is going to be alri... !
It was too late for poor Ilya to do anything at this point.
If Maria knew about it, that was probably the most horrified expression Ilya had in her entire life. Now her hand went from shuddering to frozen solid. Arm as well! Each stab. Each syllable sung. She counted them all. And growing was the urge to just push her hand away from a gruesome fate. Midway through the song - so iconic it would give the dragon lady a bad case of earworms - Ilya went far ahead to hold her wrist with the other hand, as if to keep it in place or just expecting a sudden streak of blood to jump out from one of her severed fingers. It got worse. The draconian started to screech as Maria picked up the speed. Picture a cornered sauroid animal from a prehistoric-era equivalent world in the outer edges of The Galaxy Wide. She shut her eyes tight, looked away - still screeching! - and prepared for the worse.
She only went silent when Maria announced that this was the game.
Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked back to her hand. Intact. Only then the thrill crashed inside the draconian. So much that she screeched again, in amazament. In fact, the game was so exciting that entire station being tilted by an alien invasion felt like part of the show, and Ilya just kept screeching. — Aaaah, Mary! 'Lemme do it! 'Lemme do it with you, too!! - She yelled as the bounty hunter dashed for the door, Ilya naturally following behind with a wide smile on her snout.
Things turn a sharp turn in the following moments, however.
"Ilya! We're heading out!" — Maria's voice echoed silently on the draconian's head, which just made her stand in place. Processing that. Remembering that. Where she last heard that. These words burned like the fire within her core, made her blood boil and heart pump like an engine.
"Time to head out, Ilya."
"Haul ass! Head out!"
"We're under attack! Head out!"
When Maria took her gear back from the draconian, she could perceived that Ilya had changed. Not her physique but her stare. Eyelids dropped halfway, pupils going impossibly fast into a slit. The golden orbs reflecting all the alarms blaring. These were the eyes of a murderer.
— Understood. Lead the way. — And it was ready to go through anything to protect her rival, ironically.
Wick had heard her. For one single moment, Nirix had called. He hoped his face didn't give anything away. Better that no one knew he got the call, it kept them from asking anything. Even if they did, how would he even answer? The woman who he was starting to have feelings for called for less than a minute and hung up before he got a word in. It almost felt cruel. They had gotten a moment to speak, then something happened and Nirix had to go. Sure, she said she'd call again, but who knew when that would be?
I hope she's alright. Sure, she can handle herself, but what if she ends up outnumbered or in a position where she can't do anything? The memories of their sparring match as well as the fight in the hall quickly rid Wick of that fear. Nirix was strong, deadlier than anyone he had ever met. She'd be fine.
Knowing that the call wouldn't come any time soon, Wick turned his attention back to the fight. The more suspicious woman of his new group, Talis, had joined in the fray now. While not ideal, this fight gave him a small view into the talents of those involved. Though once the idea of killing came up, things were clearly about to get out of hand. He positioned himself close to the fight, ready to step in should it look more like blood was going to be spilled as opposed to just threats. Words didn't mean much in cases like this unless they became actions.
I hope she's alright. Sure, she can handle herself, but what if she ends up outnumbered or in a position where she can't do anything? The memories of their sparring match as well as the fight in the hall quickly rid Wick of that fear. Nirix was strong, deadlier than anyone he had ever met. She'd be fine.
Knowing that the call wouldn't come any time soon, Wick turned his attention back to the fight. The more suspicious woman of his new group, Talis, had joined in the fray now. While not ideal, this fight gave him a small view into the talents of those involved. Though once the idea of killing came up, things were clearly about to get out of hand. He positioned himself close to the fight, ready to step in should it look more like blood was going to be spilled as opposed to just threats. Words didn't mean much in cases like this unless they became actions.
New Vegas
After seeing to getting repairs underway, Dhari returned to his starship with his three crew members. The four of them had been hounded by people to stay longer then intended and go gambling. He had to pull Joan off a man that was making unnecessary advances towards her. The woman was short...but her temper was shorter. Dhari had gotten smacked hard in the nose by Joan as she wanted to continue fighting. As they walked back to the ship, he felt somewhat relieved. He was all too happy to see that the fighting was stopped without any...major injuries. He groans inwardly. The man that had advanced on Joan had been thrown around quite mercilessly.
Turning to briefly look at the three, he nods to Uma who was close behind Ian. The male nurse never left anywhere without his closest friend Ian, unless onboard the Corigoni. There were two reasons for this. Uma nods at the captain and goes ahead to go back to work at medbay. Ian stays walking with Joan and his captain. Dhari then instructs his two helms members to go relieve Anna and Tod for the day. And to tell Codi to oversee security reports, and to relay the remaining damage reports to him. The helms members nod and are off. Scratching his head, he sighs stepping back into the ship. Just as he is about to walk down the corridor to head over to medbay to check on Doc, a sudden flash of pain is felt in his head. He doubles over for a moment in surprise and quickly looks around. But nothing is there. Grumbling under his breath, he has a bad feeling as the pain vanishes just as suddenly as it had happened.
Taking a moment to reclaim his composure, he continues walking to medbay. Just as he rounds the corner, and walks past engineering, something hard and...metal...hit him square in the head. Right where the pain from earlier occurred. Dhari keels over, landing on his knees. Dazed, and clearly in pain he tries to look up. Standing just inches from him is the chief of engineering. And the look on her face makes him visibly cringe. Ta'si looked absolutely furiously $%###@ off.
"...Ow. What did I do this t-" A wrench is thrown at his forehead. Almost knocking him out. The jiki'hao woman starts cursing in her native tongue before calming down enough to speak in common tongue instead.
"You realize how many damned mutha %$#@ing parts I need now?! What hit us?! I demand to know NOW!" She shouts at him furiously. Dhari puts up his hands in surrender to the woman. Despite the sheer headache he now has, he speaks bluntly.
"Some drunkard. His ship is more damaged then mine I can promise you that. And no, I don't know cause I'm afraid to look at the damage inside the engine room. Besides that, you are very scary a-" Another tool is thrown at him. This time it was larger, and heavier. She approaches, this time grabbing him by the ears and shouts even louder.
"I DON'T GIVE TWO MUTHA %$#@ING &^#%S IF YOU DON'T LOOK OR NOT!! IT STILL $#@%ES ME OFF THAT IT'S DAMAGED AGAIN!!" She lets go and storms back into engineering. Slamming shut the doors. Rubbing his head, and now ears he wonders if the pain from earlier was this. He grumbles, wishing he could control his premonitions so as to avoid things like this. Shrugging it off, he gets up. Then continuing on to medbay to go and check on Doc. Wondering how many people were in there right now. As he opens the doors to enter, something clonks him in the head...again. This time whatever it was, is made of glass as it shatters. Inside there is yelling and screaming. Just when he thinks it can't get worse...it gets worse.
"Are you kidding me?! Sit the $%^& down NOW!" This time the shout was Doc's voice. He had lost his patience, and his temper showed. Dhari stands at the entrance still with the doors open, then bends down to start picking up the glass pieces. Uma comes up to him hurriedly, and tries to help the captain. His tiny voice coming out, shaking a little.
"A-Are you ok C-Captain? I'm sorry.. T-This drunken male he...he is causing so much trouble.." Uma looks down at his own two feet, feeling badly about the glass having hit Dhari in the first place. Huo, Ash, and Tyrisa were with Doc trying to restrain the drunken man. Huo was in the process of sedating the belligerent man, when he gets a fist full of his hair pulled on, and the sedative is knocked from his hand.
"Ouch! Uma! I need you to administer the sedative! We really could use it right about now!" There isn't anger in his voice, but there is a sense of urgency instead. Uma quickly leaves Dhari's side and grabs the loaded syringe from the floor. Quickly going over to the other nurses and the chief of medical. Swiftly injecting the man with the sedative while the others hold him down. After a few seconds he is out cold. Hao is able to free his hair from the man's grip. They each sigh, but Doc is in an utterly poor mood now. He stomps off over to his desk and begins his other duties. Dhari steps completely into the medbay now.
Walking over to his chief of medical, Dhari leans against the wall next to him. Cormac looks up from his desk and raises an eyebrow. Dhari merely shrugs and rolls his piercing yellow eyes. The two sometimes did not have to even speak. Their body language was understood between the two. Cormac shakes his head before getting back up and rummages inside a neaby drawer, getting out a pain reliever. Handing it over to Dhari without question, but he does mutter a comment.
"Think you better sleep off the ship tonight. Ta'si is really &%^$ed off right now. Though you already knew that. Heh." Cormac smirks at his captain. It was true though. The deep red marks on Dhari's forehead was proof. He takes the advise under consideration and heads out. But before he does he comments to Doc about getting sleep too. Heading out of the Corigoni after a moment, he heads to the nearest casino to spend the night in. But as he approaches the nearest one, he can't help but get the same creeping sensation he had felt earlier. His skin feels like it's going to crawl right off of him. Pausing he wonders if he really wants to enter at all. But thinking of his chief of engineering makes him go ahead anyways. He wanted to avoid her for at least a few days.
As he stepped closer, a wristband of sorts was placed onto him, and then he goes through the teleporter leading inside. Going up to the doors and entering. It was loud, and the smell of thick smoke makes him cough a little bit. He notices a fight happening but pays it no attention. He swiftly passes many machines, and thick crowds of people. Slipping as quickly away from anyone that approaches him. He wasn't here to play around, he just wanted to sleep. A shudder runs down his spine. There was something bothering him about this place. And he did not like it one bit. In his haste he accidentally bumps into a woman with lavender eyes, horns and ears. Quickly turning his piercing yellow eyes to her to apologize quickly.
"Sorry, didn't mean to bump into you." He says bluntly, and turns back to leave. Heading into some doors, and goes through them. He heads down the corridors, looking for his room that he had purchased beforehand. As a faint beeping noise is heard, he pulls out a small tablet of sorts. Checking it, he sees the reports coming in from his second in command, Codi. Pausing in the hallway for just a moment, he skims over the major damage reports before nodding to himself and continuing on wards towards his room. He could look at the rest of it once inside. He shudders again. That creeping feeling making him edgy now.
After seeing to getting repairs underway, Dhari returned to his starship with his three crew members. The four of them had been hounded by people to stay longer then intended and go gambling. He had to pull Joan off a man that was making unnecessary advances towards her. The woman was short...but her temper was shorter. Dhari had gotten smacked hard in the nose by Joan as she wanted to continue fighting. As they walked back to the ship, he felt somewhat relieved. He was all too happy to see that the fighting was stopped without any...major injuries. He groans inwardly. The man that had advanced on Joan had been thrown around quite mercilessly.
Turning to briefly look at the three, he nods to Uma who was close behind Ian. The male nurse never left anywhere without his closest friend Ian, unless onboard the Corigoni. There were two reasons for this. Uma nods at the captain and goes ahead to go back to work at medbay. Ian stays walking with Joan and his captain. Dhari then instructs his two helms members to go relieve Anna and Tod for the day. And to tell Codi to oversee security reports, and to relay the remaining damage reports to him. The helms members nod and are off. Scratching his head, he sighs stepping back into the ship. Just as he is about to walk down the corridor to head over to medbay to check on Doc, a sudden flash of pain is felt in his head. He doubles over for a moment in surprise and quickly looks around. But nothing is there. Grumbling under his breath, he has a bad feeling as the pain vanishes just as suddenly as it had happened.
Taking a moment to reclaim his composure, he continues walking to medbay. Just as he rounds the corner, and walks past engineering, something hard and...metal...hit him square in the head. Right where the pain from earlier occurred. Dhari keels over, landing on his knees. Dazed, and clearly in pain he tries to look up. Standing just inches from him is the chief of engineering. And the look on her face makes him visibly cringe. Ta'si looked absolutely furiously $%###@ off.
"...Ow. What did I do this t-" A wrench is thrown at his forehead. Almost knocking him out. The jiki'hao woman starts cursing in her native tongue before calming down enough to speak in common tongue instead.
"You realize how many damned mutha %$#@ing parts I need now?! What hit us?! I demand to know NOW!" She shouts at him furiously. Dhari puts up his hands in surrender to the woman. Despite the sheer headache he now has, he speaks bluntly.
"Some drunkard. His ship is more damaged then mine I can promise you that. And no, I don't know cause I'm afraid to look at the damage inside the engine room. Besides that, you are very scary a-" Another tool is thrown at him. This time it was larger, and heavier. She approaches, this time grabbing him by the ears and shouts even louder.
"I DON'T GIVE TWO MUTHA %$#@ING &^#%S IF YOU DON'T LOOK OR NOT!! IT STILL $#@%ES ME OFF THAT IT'S DAMAGED AGAIN!!" She lets go and storms back into engineering. Slamming shut the doors. Rubbing his head, and now ears he wonders if the pain from earlier was this. He grumbles, wishing he could control his premonitions so as to avoid things like this. Shrugging it off, he gets up. Then continuing on to medbay to go and check on Doc. Wondering how many people were in there right now. As he opens the doors to enter, something clonks him in the head...again. This time whatever it was, is made of glass as it shatters. Inside there is yelling and screaming. Just when he thinks it can't get worse...it gets worse.
"Are you kidding me?! Sit the $%^& down NOW!" This time the shout was Doc's voice. He had lost his patience, and his temper showed. Dhari stands at the entrance still with the doors open, then bends down to start picking up the glass pieces. Uma comes up to him hurriedly, and tries to help the captain. His tiny voice coming out, shaking a little.
"A-Are you ok C-Captain? I'm sorry.. T-This drunken male he...he is causing so much trouble.." Uma looks down at his own two feet, feeling badly about the glass having hit Dhari in the first place. Huo, Ash, and Tyrisa were with Doc trying to restrain the drunken man. Huo was in the process of sedating the belligerent man, when he gets a fist full of his hair pulled on, and the sedative is knocked from his hand.
"Ouch! Uma! I need you to administer the sedative! We really could use it right about now!" There isn't anger in his voice, but there is a sense of urgency instead. Uma quickly leaves Dhari's side and grabs the loaded syringe from the floor. Quickly going over to the other nurses and the chief of medical. Swiftly injecting the man with the sedative while the others hold him down. After a few seconds he is out cold. Hao is able to free his hair from the man's grip. They each sigh, but Doc is in an utterly poor mood now. He stomps off over to his desk and begins his other duties. Dhari steps completely into the medbay now.
Walking over to his chief of medical, Dhari leans against the wall next to him. Cormac looks up from his desk and raises an eyebrow. Dhari merely shrugs and rolls his piercing yellow eyes. The two sometimes did not have to even speak. Their body language was understood between the two. Cormac shakes his head before getting back up and rummages inside a neaby drawer, getting out a pain reliever. Handing it over to Dhari without question, but he does mutter a comment.
"Think you better sleep off the ship tonight. Ta'si is really &%^$ed off right now. Though you already knew that. Heh." Cormac smirks at his captain. It was true though. The deep red marks on Dhari's forehead was proof. He takes the advise under consideration and heads out. But before he does he comments to Doc about getting sleep too. Heading out of the Corigoni after a moment, he heads to the nearest casino to spend the night in. But as he approaches the nearest one, he can't help but get the same creeping sensation he had felt earlier. His skin feels like it's going to crawl right off of him. Pausing he wonders if he really wants to enter at all. But thinking of his chief of engineering makes him go ahead anyways. He wanted to avoid her for at least a few days.
As he stepped closer, a wristband of sorts was placed onto him, and then he goes through the teleporter leading inside. Going up to the doors and entering. It was loud, and the smell of thick smoke makes him cough a little bit. He notices a fight happening but pays it no attention. He swiftly passes many machines, and thick crowds of people. Slipping as quickly away from anyone that approaches him. He wasn't here to play around, he just wanted to sleep. A shudder runs down his spine. There was something bothering him about this place. And he did not like it one bit. In his haste he accidentally bumps into a woman with lavender eyes, horns and ears. Quickly turning his piercing yellow eyes to her to apologize quickly.
"Sorry, didn't mean to bump into you." He says bluntly, and turns back to leave. Heading into some doors, and goes through them. He heads down the corridors, looking for his room that he had purchased beforehand. As a faint beeping noise is heard, he pulls out a small tablet of sorts. Checking it, he sees the reports coming in from his second in command, Codi. Pausing in the hallway for just a moment, he skims over the major damage reports before nodding to himself and continuing on wards towards his room. He could look at the rest of it once inside. He shudders again. That creeping feeling making him edgy now.
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