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Futuristic Burning Sails [OPEN]

"Hope you're getting all the materials and other stuff you need."
"I bought whatever I could afford that wasn't something you could easily get off the shelf. Though most stores only sold basic level medicines like stim-packs, cough syrups, ointments, Dora the Explorer band-aids, and the like." Typhon responds, then takes a draw of his cigarette. "I'm all for raiding a supply depot for better supplies however."
"A little too dressed up, aren't ya?"
He sighs. "The professionalism helps my reputation as a doctor, and takes away from our brutal image... and from this." He gestures at his face's ghoulish features.
 
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“I remember the Alpha Sisters and the Omega Brothers. And I see that you’re friends with Valk, the rising star in the RQ.” He put in a bit of bitterness in the last sentence.

“After serving military duty, a representative from HarkArk gave me a job and promised great pay so long as I put my skills to good use.” Roge slowly nodded, looking up. “It was good while it lasted, I suppose. But I guess you can’t put a leash on every PMC seeing how the Mercenary Union fell so quickly. It was a nice dream, I’ll admit.”
 
"Aesha Drach. Former Upyri Federation Navy Ace, Interstellar Racer. Lots of championships across the galaxy." Beneath her mask, Olivia's face lit up. "Oh, no shit, huh? Remember that the Feddie guys I got stationed with were big motorheads-- had to pull 'em off of our guys once or twice, arguing about whether you or the Sol guy, whats-his-name, was gonna win. It was kinda hard not to hear about it whenever the barracks lit up like a flare every time there was a race goin' on." She adjusted her glove, pausing a moment. "...Olivia. By the way. Used to be with the Expeditionary Fleet. Always did kinda wanna be a fighter pilot but-- that fell through. So, mechs were the next best thing."
 
"Yeah, it was a good dream, but it ended up with the top players taking everything and leaving scraps for everyone else to fight over. Second iteration was worse. Death Vigil being at the helm right before the whole thing collapsed." She paused for a second before continuing "Honestly, I think you dodged a bullet if you never got involved with that one in particular. Skull boys were too deep into the cult of their leader shit. Likely would have dragged the rest with them down."

"You thinking of joining up with the crew here?" She shifted the topic a bit, but was curious what a big guy like him was looking to do if not looking for work.
 
Roge tilted his head slightly to the right, "Heh, I've dodged plenty of those bullets, but other friends and allies weren't so lucky. Nowadays my oldest friends are either dead or retired elsewhere. But yeah, cult of personalities can be a real bitch to deal with. And joining Valk's crew? Can't tell for sure, I like to hold my options in the air." He then turned to the little Kanad around the crowd and nodded, "Kanad there looks a bit lost. Wanna see if she's thinking of joining the Blackwells?" He asked Amy.
 
"Sure." Amy shrugged. "But you're gonna have to talk to her. My Kanadese extends to hello, goodbye and bathroom directions....and cursing someone out." She let Roge lead the way on this one. He's big, but seems friendly enough.
 
"That depends if we all have a translator. If not, then we're in big trouble." He looked up to the highest ceiling, praying for Durga. The last time he interacted with a Kanad was when Belka Vella and Kanan introduced him to one, and that guy wasn't even a Kanadys native, he was Crimson.

Roge walked over to the Kanad and waved a big hand, "[Hey, you look a little lost. Are you joining up with the Blackwell's Reavers?]" He pointed his translator module on his holoband, wondering if it'll work based on hers.
 
Shelby bounced on his feet, filled with a bout of nervous energy. Joining up with pirates. Yeah, that was cool, but it was also probably pretty dangerous in retrospect. And now that he already put himself out there, he probably couldn't say no. Not that that would be a good idea, either. Who knew where the nearest snatch team was waiting for him. Or worse, an independent bounty hunter, or just some crazy psycho. These past several months had been the first time he traveled anywhere alone, without a management or security entourage. And even then, people still swarmed when they knew he was around. Always wanting pictures, or autographs, or to touch his hand, or hair, or anything at all. It was refreshing - and frightening - to be alone.

With the starnet down, Shelby couldn't keep still, though that was pretty normal anyways. Music was always in his head and limbs when he wasn't on anything. He had no idea how long he would last until the next... withdrawal, but that was better than wondering when the next overdose would be. The mere thought made him go still, his ambient natural smile fading.

Twirling his fingers around each other, he glanced over the others nearby. An interesting lot they were. There was a woman and a big Kercan talking about being parents. Well, not much he could add there, he wasn't a parent. Probably. Aesha was chatting with another super cool racer, or maybe a military pilot from the looks of it, and he had never been behind the controls of any vehicle except a few small boating craft. Of course there was also the Kanad, but from the sounds of it they had trouble with the language, and Shelby didn't know much of theirs. You pick up a lot of things at school or from the net, but fluency in distant alien languages was not something you achieved flippantly. There was even a lady with a stealth cloak, and that was pretty intense.

Still, unable to keep still, Shelby drifted closer and closer to the orbit of Aesha and Olivia.
 
Vixaya snapped out of her trance as she heard the Kercan speak to her, and the translation that followed. "[I was left on this station by thieves. I've just spoken with Aesha about joining, yes.]" She waited to see if the translator would work, and once it had done its job, she continued. "[I know how to do battle in mechs, and can fight with small arms, if that's what's required.]"

She tapped on the weapon case in front of her twice as she spoke, before pressing her thumb against the lock to reveal it's contents. Inside was a Kosokom ZVI-415, a strange SMG that surfaced in the far east in recent years. Using the same plasma cartridge as the ubiquitous OBV rifles of the Black Fleet, the ZVI drove two pistol-sized coil packs, one above, and one below, the user's hand. Each coil pack fired it's contents through a separate barrel, which alternated in order to double the rate of fire.

Vixaya closed the case gently. "[What do you do?]" she asked.
 
Getting left here by all yourself was a real bummer, Roge thought as the Kanad displayed a weapon case from Kosokom. The SMG’s design looked entirely foreign to Roge as the Kercans relied on kinetic and explosives for firepower, at least the ones on Durga. In addition she knew how to operate a mech.

He simply nodded as the Kanad asked a question, “[I deal in demolition and explosives. C4, operating heavy machine guns and making sure the enemy ships are destroyed using the ship’s weaponry.]” He explained, jerking a thumb on his pistol holstered and the SMG on his back.

“[You said you got stranded by a bunch of thieves. You got any partners, friends or family that know you’re here?]”
 
Elsewhere...


"[I'll need your credentials, please. What's you're intended destination?]" The Federation Navy trooper eyed the android standing before him on the other side of the counter. Clad in almost all black, and wearing a long flowing robe-like outfit with an extravagant hood, the android tilted their head ever so slightly. A moment later a card appeared in their hand. The card itself was ivory in color, bearing odd gold markings and an image of an elaborate looking black mask etched into it near the right side.

The Federation trooper raised an eyebrow. "[Uhm...that's not a--]" he started to say, before being cut off by the android. Though in a polite manner. "[Oh, but it is. Simply scan it, good sir.]" she said, her voice bearing a rather calming tone. The trooper hesitated for a moment, eyeing the android, before lifting his handheld scanner. He pointed it at the card, and made a slow sweeping motion across it. A moment later, there was a beep from the scanner. He inspected its small holoscreen, and his eyes widened. She apparently had special high level political privileges, but what she actually WAS was listed as classified by the Federation's Office of Naval Intelligence. It did register a name, though. Eve.

"[...Everything seems to check out. Destination, Miss Eve?]" he asked afterwards, setting the device back down. "[VOC-1, Vileas. I have a particularly urgent issue to attend to.]" responded Eve, as she slipped the card beneath her robe. "[Alright. Let me see if I can get you a transport. Should only take a few minutes.]" The trooper then shifted about, turning to a holocomputer and beginning to clack away on the mechanical keyboard in front of him.

Eve took a step back from the counter, clasping her hands together as she waited. She looked about the large hall, glancing to the various other patrons wandering about. This was a central terminal for public transportation through one of the many jumpgates scattered around Nyx, the homeworld of the Upyri. Here, one could purchase tickets for public shuttles to other locations around the galaxy. It was perfect for the average citizen who could not afford a private ship. Jumpgates were also useful for those that simply lacked FTL engines, as well as for mass cargo transports between the Federation and other galactic empires like Sol, Kosokom, and YsCom. Really the only price for using a jumpgate was a small gate toll, paid using credit chits.

Eventually, the trooper spoke up again. "[Miss Eve?]" he asked, catching her attention. She moved back to the counter, and he delivered the bad news. "[It seems the jumpgate on the Vileas side is down for maintenance. I can keep an eye on things and schedule your transport as soon as I know it's back up and running, if you'd like.]" he stated, to which Eve quickly shook her head. "[Thank you, but no. I'll be able to use a warp engine equipped ship. I simply enjoy using public transports from time to time. Please, have a pleasant day.]" she replied, before quietly turning about. She soon walked away from the counter. Moving down the hall towards the grand archway that was the exit, her metal heels clacking across the tile floor.

It was the truth, really. She enjoyed using public transport. You got to meet and interact with all sorts of people. A bit refreshing, compared to traveling alone in a personal vessel. But she wasn't picky at the moment. She needed to get to VOC-1, and quickly. Two of the people she cared about most were in danger.

A few minutes later, Eve emerged outside onto a large metal platform. Rising high into the sky around her were hundreds of buildings with thousands of ships flying two and fro. Common place on Nyx, a world that was quite literally covered in an endless city. Home to billions of people, from various races and classes. Quite a remarkable thing.

She turned, moving towards another platform where a cluster of ships were parked. Her personal craft among them. It was fitted with a warp engine, allowing it to easily jump to VOC-1, but she didn't care for using it too much. A simple perk for her employment with one of the most secretive organizations in the galaxy. Once she arrived at the black W shaped craft, the purple canopy of the cockpit opened silently by itself. And with a simple jump, she landed right inside. It sealed itself without her input, and soon the craft was powered up and lifting off the ground.





The ascent through the atmosphere of Nyx was rapid, Eve easily making her way through the numerous streams of incoming and outgoing vessels and transports before arriving in the blackness of space. And then, it was simply a matter of imputing coordinates. Not VOC-1 directly, but near it. The warp engines warmed up, preparing to jump as Eve hummed along to the music playing softly inside the cockpit. Moments later, warp was engaged, and Eve's little craft disappeared in a flash.
 
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Vixaya nodded as Roge explained his experience. Demolitions experts were highly-valued by the resistance during the civil war as they could set traps, breech into buildings held by the enemy, or even disable vehicles before they could be deployed. They could frustrate the Collective in ways few other soldiers could. But then he asked about partners, friends, and family.

"[No,]" Vixaya replied immediately. "[After the war ended, my comrades... left. They went home, found work, or something else,]" she explained with a vaguely sad expression. "[My family does not accept me. I'm searching for a new home. These pirates will help me raise money, and then I'll move on and find a permanent residence somewhere else.]"
 
Roge crossed his arms as she fully intended to stay with the Reavers until she had the credits to either find new opportunities or perhaps settle down permanently. It reminded him his kind always traveled, wherever the wind took them to the point he could find a lot of Kercans under pirate groups or even slaves for cheap. Despite having a family on Elippe, he was still doing the same line of work for decades.

Roge sighed, “[Looking at it that way, it’s probably for the best you’re sticking with the Blackwells. I have my opinions about them, but at least they act like a family and know how to treat their men and women. Roge Igualli’s my name. The girl next to me says she’s Amy Koronova.]” He turned to Amy.
 
"I'm all for raiding a supply depot for better supplies however."

"Depending on how things go with the colony ship the Guillotine is checking out, we may just have to do that." said Valk, glancing back to Typhon as they walked. "Of course, we could swing by Shadespear Terminal, or head over to Rook's Wharf. They always have some good stuff. I can check in with Slade and Chang to see what they've gathered up too." Slade Beckwith and Zhao Chang were both pirate captains under her command, overseeing Reavers operations in different sectors of the Renegade Quadrant and beyond. Both used to oversee larger pirate groups, with Slade controlling the Red Phantoms while Chang oversaw the Ironbloods. After run-ins with that Upyri renegade group, the Blood Corps, they found themselves a shadow of their former selves. So, Valk offered them a chance to join up with the Reavers, and eventually the Red Phantoms and Ironbloods both fused into the Reavers. It helped that Valk was friends with both of the captains, really.

"The professionalism helps my reputation as a doctor, and takes away from our brutal image... and from this."

Lauren chuckled. "Well, you look a lot better than some of the fucks I've seen." she remarked, giving him a partial grin. They continued along, eventually coming to a large circular area. Open, with trees planted just so among grasses inside of concrete enclosed squares. There were benches scattered about, some occupied, and various shops and stores surrounded the large circle. And nearby, they could see the shop that Uric mentioned. Big Lola's General Store. Big Lola herself was a Kercan, rather thick and towering over most folks save for Khergians. Valk had been in her shop a few times, and often left with far more than she intended to buy in the first place. Maybe it was the Kercan's threatening gaze if you didn't buy the amount that she wanted you to. Valk wasn't scared of her, but it was bet to just satisfy Lola instead of risking an encounter than could get her and her Reavers thrown off the colony.

"Over there." said Valkyrie, walking towards the shop. She didn't see Uric yet, as they neared the shop. Maybe he was inside? If not, then he'd be there soon enough. They had some time to wait.



"Oh, no shit, huh? Remember that the Feddie guys I got stationed with were big motorheads-- had to pull 'em off of our guys once or twice, arguing about whether you or the Sol guy, whats-his-name, was gonna win. It was kinda hard not to hear about it whenever the barracks lit up like a flare every time there was a race goin' on." She adjusted her glove, pausing a moment. "...Olivia. By the way. Used to be with the Expeditionary Fleet. Always did kinda wanna be a fighter pilot but-- that fell through. So, mechs were the next best thing."

Aesha smirked, as she turned her attention to Olivia. "Ah, you mean Aimar 'Angel Eyes' Castellano. Slick motherfucker. He's probably champion now, and if he isn't, he honestly deserves it. He's given me a hell of a fight on several occasions." She folded her arms again. "Whoever makes those IRC: Masters of Speed games seems to really like him too, since he has a pretty cool theme when you select him. Lots of flamenco guitars. They usually give me a power metal song of some sort, which is pretty kickass too."

"Mechs weren't as popular when I joined up as they are now. Plus, my mom was a pilot too, so it's just something I always wanted to do. Dad pushed me to do it, and once I got out, I got into racing to connect with him. He was a huge fan of the Interstellar Racing Circuit, so I jumped headfirst into it." she continued, her smirk shifting into a warm smile. Once she finished, she shifted her attention to Vixaya, whom seemed to be speaking to a Kercan and that woman that said she knew Valk. She seemed to be doing okay, so she returned her attention to Olivia. "So you were Expeditionary? Haven't heard much out of them since the whole deal with the Divinity Creed. We sent some of ours to help out Sol with the fighting, and they sent us the Expeditionary Fleet in turn."
 
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"Of course, we could swing by Shadespear Terminal, or head over to Rook's Wharf. They always have some good stuff. I can check in with Slade and Chang to see what they've gathered up too."
Typhon grunts loudly and shakes his head as the colony of Rook's Wharf was mentioned. He's got quite the selection of memories of that place, though none of them are good. It was decades ago when he first was traveled there as part of a wetworks operation; one that went completely awry and ended up with one of his fellow Quds agents killed by the very person they were hunting. The task was simple: kill a Blackstar captain before she could disclose the whereabouts of Karbala, the Artisynth's new home. Not only were they chased out with their tails between their legs, that very captain is now the Mahdi's own personal fucking secretary.

Sometimes, when he's not busy cutting people open, he wonders if she still remembers what he came close to doing to her.

"I highly doubt Slade will help me, but anything helps." he says, taking yet another draw from his cigarette. He also takes out the little cigarette carton he'd been carrying in his pocket and holds it out in front of the others. "While we wait."
 
"Whoever makes those IRC: Masters of Speed games seems to really like him too, since he has a pretty cool theme when you select him. Lots of flamenco guitars. They usually give me a power metal song of some sort, which is pretty kickass too." Olivia rolled her neck around, bringing a hand behind her head to rub at it. "Yeah, it's. Pretty cool." She is so not gonna fuckin' say that it was a non-zero, let along big part in her wanting to be a pilot. Thanking the powers that be that Aesha was moving on as quickly as she wanted to.

"Creed? They're... fuckin' gone." Olivia threw her hands up into the air. "Way the fuck before I joined up with the Corps, anyways. I mean-- we still got some activity out of them but, honestly, they're dust and echoes of what they were. 'Least, from the horror stories we all got of them, anyway. Ex-Fleet's still there, though. They say they're a peacekeeping force, but, that's bullshit. Sol's just tryna' keep the government they installed propped up. Which, turns out, people aren't too fond of Sol, go fuckin' figure." A slow tap finds itself in the woman's boot as she crosses her arms. "Requiem's what the resistance is calling itself. Quarter as armed and a tenth as fanatical, but, turns out people actually tend to fucking like you when you aren't throwing kids into a pit for not being soldier-ready. Hardly ever fights in open ground, either. Command said they're just Creed resurgents but... I dunno." A sigh wafted out of Olivia's chest. "...Anyway. I ended up stationed on Terra Nova for most of my time, like the rest of First Cav. 'Till I. Left, anyway."
 
"While we wait."

Both Valk and Lauren reached over and took a cigarette from the pack, while Damien shook his head. He didn't smoke. Valk lit their cigarettes with a small torch that popped out of the end of her left thumb, before taking a seat on a nearby bench. "So what's your deal with Slade, anyway? He's basically just a grizzled old man now." said Lauren, as she sat next to her mother. Valk spoke up afterwards. "Well, remember. There was that whole casino attack on Prospera back around the time Starvis happened. Slade's not particularly a fan of Artisynth because of that." she stated, glancing to Lauren. Valk then looked to Typhon. "My question is what's wrong with Rook's Wharf? We head there quite a lot." After asking, she exhaled a puff of smoke from her nostrils.



Aesha nodded as Olivia spoke of the Divinity Creed and their remnants. "You'll always have those clinging to the old way of things. Sol has Requiem, Feddies have the KSM. I imagine there's some small group in YsCom and Kosokom still trying to upend things, even after what happened to those empires. Wouldn't be surprised if the Ayr have some small band of rebels they don't let the galaxy know about." She shrugged. "The more things change, the more they stay the same."
 
"So what's your deal with Slade, anyway? He's basically just a grizzled old man now."
"Oh, where to begin..." Typhon says, rubbing his eye. "No part of my being holds animosity with Slade, but the reason he despises us so much is very personal. The Death Vigil were the ones in control of Prospera's security at the time of our attack, and Slade was among those they deployed to hunt us down... and among those few that returned alive." The cigarette he'd been smoking all this time falls to the floor as he drops it, and he puts it out with his foot.

"... Do you think if he knew who planned our little distraction in the first place, he might try to kill me for it?"
"My question is what's wrong with Rook's Wharf? We head there quite a lot."
For just a brief second, Typhon's expression turns quite pensive until it quickly returns to his usual cold, silent leer. "Going there reminds me of a rather embarrassing operation decades ago that I don't enjoy thinking about." he says, motioning towards Valk. "Captain, do you recall Hanai Akatora? The Mahdi's secretary now, but one of Blackstar's finest captains before. You might've heard about her at some point, especially since she was the only one to ever venture into 'The Pit' but also exit." He tilts his head upward as he recalls more about the disastrous operation. "Three other Quds agents and I were deployed to the Wharf to kill her before she could speak of what she saw inside.... I don't know what happened, but she overpowered one of us and killed him, and alerted the rest of the Wharf to our presence. We were routed, and she got to live another day. So whenever I go to the Wharf, I'm reminded of how she murdered a brother and they rewarded her with power."
 
Elsewhere...


The human technician Jeroen sighed loudly, as he eventually tossed his holotablet onto the large desk before him. Nothing. Still no starnet service. "Anything on your end?" he asked, looking to his fellow Malmarian technician Oudin. Oudin shrugged, before checking his own tablet. Nothing. "I'll check with the server guys. See if there's been any updates, or a general time frame of when things might be back up." he said, sitting forward and picking up the phone once more. He input the number once more, tapping the keys in sequence, before lifting the phone to his ear and waiting for a response.

Oddly, none came. He cocked an eyebrow, before hanging up and trying again. After a few moments of waiting, he hung it up yet again. No response at all from the server room. "That's weird." he said aloud. Jeroen looked his way. "What? What is it?" he asked, sitting up a bit in his chair. "...I can't get the server room on the phone." replied Oudin. Jeroen shrugged. "Maybe phones are out. This colony's old as shit. Its needed a total overhaul for a while now."

Oudin went to say something in response, but glanced back behind him towards the large metal door when he heard it move. And a split-second later, he wouldn't speak ever again. A low-powered gauss shot ripped through his head, smearing blood and brains across the desk and switchboard before him. Jeroen panicked, falling backwards out of his seat and hitting the floor as three soldiers rushed into the room. Three more shots were fired, missing Jeroen as he scrambled across the floor towards his bag on the far side of the room. He always kept a pistol inside for personal defense. Sadly, he wouldn't reach it in time. Another burst of low-powered gauss shots sounded off, ripping through his torso and stopping him cold within arms reach of the bag.

The three soldiers spread out, inspecting every corner of the room, before straightening up. "[Three reporting. Booster Control Room has been cleared and secured.]" said one of the soldiers, his voice partially muffled by the enclosed helmet he was wearing. He stepped over, shoving the body of Oudin out of the way and wiping blood and bits of brain and skull from the controls with his hands. One of the other soldiers moved to the other desk, setting his rifle down against the desk as he took a seat. The third soldier simply stood near the door, watching it in the event they had to silence someone else.

A voice crackled through their comms as they moved. "[Excellent work, Three. Hold your position, and wait for the Commander's order. All remaining teams, continue to your assigned targets. Eliminate all personnel, and execute your assigned tasks. No one should know we're here. Not yet, anyway. No mistakes. Glory to Ker and her children.]" stated a stern male voice.



"... Do you think if he knew who planned our little distraction in the first place, he might try to kill me for it?"

"Knowing how Slade operates...probably." replied Valk, slipping her cigarette back in her mouth as she looked about. Slade had plenty of scars from what happened on Prospera...so he'd never forget what happened. Death Vigil probably never forgot either, but they've had far more issues to deal with after their boss Mordecai was killed on Starvis.

"As for the Wharf...don't know what to tell you about that, really." she said. "I knew Hanai long before she ran into you and the Artisynth. She and I were both in the Hellions together at one point. Always wondered what happened to her after I got out. A run-in with the Cult, then with the Artisynth, then with you and the Quds. Hell of a run on the way to being the Mahdi's secretary."
 
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"I knew Hanai long before she ran into you and the Artisynth. She and I were both in the Hellions together at one point. Always wondered what happened to her after I got out. A run-in with the Cult, then with the Artisynth, then with you and the Quds. Hell of a run on the way to being the Mahdi's secretary."
Typhon grunts. "Oh, she's lived a very hard life." he says sarcastically in mockery of Hanai. "If only we made it harder so that she might not have lived at all." He sighs again, and takes out another cigarette to smoke. "If only Moloch's special child didn't free her..."
 
While waiting for something to happen in terms of the actual job she just got hired for Nathalie couldn't help but overhear Aesha and one of the other recruits chat about Sol and its current day endeavors.
As silent as a shadow she neared the two of them and folded her hands behind her back, listening in.

It was always interesting to listen to people that had previously served with Sol or under its auxiliaries. The war had been nasty but the post-war poverty, bureaucracy and stigma coupled with empty political vows and military garrisons made for something worse altogether.

Clearing her throat, Nathalie took a short step forward. "If there's anything I learned during my career is that some things truly never change despite all the effort, money, blood or force that lies behind it."

She gave Olivia a curt nod, briefly lifting a part of her cloak to reveal the scratched out insignia of the SSOID on one of her shoulderpads.
"The generations before us went to war to unite Humanity. The next generation went to war to reclaim their faith. Now they fight for control- just like before, only with a less clear motive."

Nathalie shrugged. "Relief aid missions and military outposts. Public opinion and promises of security."

"It's an endless cycle," finished Nathalie, shaking her head.

She looked at Olivia after a brief pause. "Walker. Counter-Intelligence, among other things."
 
A new figure had slinked up to the two of them-- one that Olivia really didn't like the vibe of. Even less so whenever she revealed the worn-off insignia of the SSOID, not-so-proudly hanging off of her spaulder. She liked government spooks about as far as she could throw them, and trusted them even less than that. It took a moment of looking at her before the soldier produced the patch from her pocket once again, flashing it off. "Kovak. Counter-insurgency, security detail and riot control."

The patch went back into her pocket, still staring with an icy gaze behind her faceplate. "Besides. Motives seem pretty clear to me. A bunch of sides want Sol to fuck off their land, and Sol doesn't wanna."
 
Nathalie tilted her head. "Sure, that's a great generalization of it all. But when you put it all under a microscope it's less clear. A million shades of grey, all conflicting and some overlapping."
Crossing her arms, Nathlie continued; "Civilians trying to rid themselves of shackles forces upon by both the Divinity Creed and Sol to make something of their own. Insurgents clinging to a broken ideal because they have nothing else to fight for. Leaders that call to arms because their people are broken and there is nothing else that could even hope to amass or unify them but a rally for more war."

She paused. "On the other side there's the kids fresh out the academy or bootcamp; looking to chalk some kills to make mommy and daddy proud or to 'do their duty' while adding a bonus to their resume. You have the politicians looking at optics and votes, men and women vying for favors with the High Councilor at the cost of misery and poverty for actual people. Then there are the spooks- like me- sent in to arm insurgents and feed them bogus intel to promote infighting. Without it there wouldn't be any unrest, votes to be won or tours of duty to be had."

She shook her head. "For you and many others it is indeed very clear but like with all things there's always a bigger picture- and this one ain't very pretty."
 
While they were talking, Amy was fidgeting with her own translator. The damn thing must have taken a hit or something during the last job, because it was having trouble synching up with theirs. She could get what Roge was saying at least, cluing her in on parts of the conversation. After some more maddening finagling with her holoband, Amy just hit it out of frustration...and it worked. Suddenly she could hear them both fine and understand what they were both talking about.
Looking at it that way, it’s probably for the best you’re sticking with the Blackwells. I have my opinions about them, but at least they act like a family and know how to treat their men and women. Roge Igualli’s my name. The girl next to me says she’s Amy Koronova.
[Hi.] Amy waved a hand to greet the Kanad [I'm not part of the crew, but I know the captain from back in the day. If she likes you, you're going to be in good hands while in her crew.]
 
"If only Moloch's special child didn't free her..."

Valk cut a glance to Typhon. "Moloch's special child?" she asked. "You mean Frosty? Or whatever he chose to call himself afterwards." Frosty was an amnesiac Artisynth that the TBC had found back before the Starvis incident. Good pilot, really. When a hooded Artisynth showed up later on, named Moloch, Frosty eventually had a total personality shift as if he had regained his memories.
 

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