Futuristic Burning Sails [OPEN]

[joshuadim]

Just wait for an hour, and we should have something."

An hour. He had already been waiting weeks so he might as well wait just a bit longer knowing they'll have something to act off of. Satisfied for the time being, he simply nodded and walked away to leave the captains to their business again. Rather than return to the gym, where Amy likely was still after his rambling, Vance decided to just talk a nice long walk around the area to clear his head as well as to pass the time quickly. He felt like he could use the fresh air anyhow and he took in a deep breath and continued walking.

 

[SniperComZero]

It took a little bit of time for Olivia to actually figure out what Zadra had said to her. After all, she was so enamoured with what was going on by the entrance to the shop. It was kinda disappointing, even. Over as quick as it started, and everyone else-- at least, anyone else of any interest, had gone off.

Before she even had time to process it, she'd put another cigarette up into her mouth, surprising even her as she glanced down towards it. Oh well, when in Sol, as they say. She lit the thing up as she leaned back against the leg of her mech. "...Yeah. Just so the paint job actually looks... fresh, y'know? I doubt it'll look that fresh after a couple missions, but, y'know. It'll be nice to feel like I'm in a shiny new piece of kit for once." Olivia paused a sec, taking a long drag, blowing the ashes to the floor. "You ever feel like you're the only normal motherfucker around sometimes?"

 

[Viper Actual]

Nathalie followed Damien closely as they began to make their way back towards the settlement. "Any encrypted communications gear you can spare, preferably non-Sol and non-Human in origin."
She paused briefly as if thinking. "I could also use a place to stash some of my gear. Know any good ones around here?"

As the two of them strode back Nathalie continued; "If you help me get started with all this I'd like to work with you on this. I know my sources but you know the Renegade Quadrant. Deal?"

Nathalie extended her hand.

 

[Infab]

"Show me what you know and lets take it from there."

Drav nodded. "Best chance, use blade. Hit legs, work way up." she stated. "Without weapon, difficult...still possible." She patted her thigh with her hand, before motioning up with her thumb. "Hit eyes, give advantage. Blind fight not fun. Do what can to stun, then kill." She tossed her towel aside. "...Pirate fight dirty. Use what can to kill. Technique matter not when fight pirate."

She looked back to Amy for a moment. "...Drav take easy on you." she said, before motioning towards herself. "Attack Drav. Take turns attacking."

​

"You ever feel like you're the only normal motherfucker around sometimes?"

Zadra nodded. "Rather often." she replied, before she glanced to the mech Olivia was propped against. "Fresh coat of paint would make it look close to new. If you want, we can try and improve the weapons. Better cycle rate, larger capacity for ammunition, and so on. Might make it a little heavier, but that's entirely up to you." She glanced to the Reavers nearby, who were still waiting to get to work with the paint. "This one gets a fresh coat of paint. Match what colors it already has, and give it a lacquer coating. The Kosokom mech, strip it down to bare metal, and give it an anti-rust coat. Put a red star over the optics package. And use a fucking stencil. I don't want to see you jackasses trying to free paint again. Always ends in someone drawing dicks all over something."

Thinking about the Kosokom mech's pilot, she tucked her tablet back into her pocket and looked to Olivia. "Think on what I mentioned. I'll be back later. Gonna check on someone." she stated, before strolling off, tucking her hands into the pockets of her engineering jumpsuit as she walked towards the exit. Once outside, she merged into traffic. Beginning her hunt for Vixaya.

​

"If you help me get started with all this I'd like to work with you on this. I know my sources but you know the Renegade Quadrant. Deal?"

Damien thought for a moment, before extending his own hand to grasp hers. "Deal. I'll work on getting you the equipment. As for where you can keep your gear here on Sielia, there's some new-ish, small houses over on the other side of the dock. Just up from the beach."

As he released her hand, he continued. "Nobody has moved into those yet, and my mother has considered offering them to you and the other new members. I've already moved into one of them, since I don't want to stay in the dock's bunker with Lauren and my mother."

 

[Breadman]

...Drav take easy on you.

"Yeah, thanks." Amy got ready. At least Drav was going to avoid breaking anything...hopefully. She took a deep breath and thought of a way to try and bring the big woman down. She thought of something after a second. "Right, pirates fight dirty. Sisters look to even the odds." She muttered. Taking a few steps back to get a running start, Drav looked prepared to block any attack coming her way, that's when Amy slid under her larger opponent. There was enough room to get between Drav's legs for her to clear. As soon as she was behind the Khergian, the bounty hunter hooked the foot she planted behind her for support and yanked it towards herself to bring disrupt her balance and bring her down.

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Shelby beamed as Aesha seemed elated, immediately drinking from the bottle. It was refreshing to give a gift again, even though he wasn't in a position to receive any himself right now. He was happy to be far from Castilia, but not all the customs were bad. "Sooooo, you like dancing, Miss Aesha? Like fun dancing. You know - fast, good moves, moving your whole body. Stuff like... starpop. Gothrave. Bluevibes and Rainbow Rock?" Shelby bounced on his feet slightly, a habit of his when excited. Just a subtle swaying. "I've been doing dance streams and I need a partner!"

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

"But I believe the nanomachines in the shot will mend your brain. Restoring the damaged brain tissue to working condition."

"Physically, that is. Mental repair requires a different approach." Typhon gives a quick wave towards the other Reavers in the med-bay with them however as this is going to be a very confidential affair. "Go." he demands as he connects his datapad to one of the patient TV screens.

"Find yourself a comfortable spot on this bed and we will begin."

 

[Frankafurter]

Katja listens to Typhon then moves to the indicated bed and gets comfortable, looking at the screen, "So, we gonna watch some Moomins? I haven't watched them since I was a kid, but it would be a nice nostalgia trip."

 

[DG-117]

October 19th, 2371

Western Plains
Contested Territory
Sirgas
Northeastern Quadrant

---

Flashes, flashes of light, flashes overwhelming the red sky stood above. The diming dusk sky was covered in the colors of a thunderous storm of War, roaring throughout the scorched hillside as molten bolts of plasma fire soared high above were launched at the planetary invaders to support the struggling defense fleet. The bolts lit up the once pleasant countryside in overwhelming magenta light. Dark, black trails of dense smoke followed each of these bolts as they tore into the clouds far above.

Kalashi stared at them for a moment, seemly entranced by the scale of it all. While she was a veteran of the Black Fleet for several years, fighting in numerous conflicts, and having her share of scars from fighting in the name of the Collective, this War had changed her deeply- taking many of her comrades' lives and changing her perspective on...

Well, Everything... The battles before this War were almost always low-conflict missions, be it counter-piracy on the domestic front, or seek-and-destroy operations, where the Black Fleet was able to dominate the planet's primary source of resistance without fail. Kalashi and the rest of her Squadron were just usually deployed to clean up.

Yet, as she stood there in a makeshift trench alone, once crowded with friends and fellow soldiers of the Collective just like in the drop-shuttles back on the carriers, the trenches were now barely populated with sentries watching the left flank, far away from the front.

Kalashi continued to watch the flashes. The flashes could still be seen clearly through the smoke, through the plasma, and through the clouds. The Flashes were still so, so blinding- they seemed brighter than the Sun itself. They lasted for what seemed to be hours. But once a flash had finally concluded, so too did over a thousand lives, cut short by the horrors of this bloody, bloody War.

Kalashi looked about her surroundings for a few seconds, and her eyes caught the sight of a small, primitive village laying just a click beyond the trench. Once home to a few dozen people, it was now a pile of rubble and stone. Its advantageous position allowed it to see use as a forward operating base for the Collective forces on this world. Kalashi quickly spotted a small team of logistical officers sorting through the dead. The bodies of the insurgents fighting for the enemy were unceremoniously dumped into a nearby overflow pipe. While it was a grizzly display, it had become a common sight for Kalashi during her time on Sirgas.

It was a terrible shame that the renowned 9th Black Fleet Squadron had been reduced to this. Now only a handful of battered infantry companies after many months of grueling siege warfare, with the naval elements fairing little better against the brunt of the enemy's renewed offensive.

With so much ruined and so many dead, was there any way to win this War? And if so, what then? Kalashi served in Collective's military since the age of 16, fighting acceptance away from her family as soon as she could, fighting to get respect from her comrades... But now, she dwelled on such thoughts. What was there left to fight after this War? Was there any chance to get out of this?

But to stare, at any of this, was to die. For this was a war where only the quick could have a chance of living. Kalashi quickly refocused back to the moment as a blinding flash took her off guard, temporarily stunning her and causing her to stumble back against the trench wall. Her helmet radio crackled loudly. Kalashi hastily attempted to sort through the static and frantic screams. She quickly realized that the frontlines had begun to fall apart and that an all-retreat order had been given.

It didn't take long for Kalashi to promptly get back to her senses. She scanned about the trench and tried to link up with the rest of her unit but before her eyes finally recovered, enemy bombardments soon reached the trenches. The blasts nearly threw her into the air as they started ripping apart the trench line. Running was the only option now; to delay for any reason was a sure way to end up dead here.

Kalashi quickly got herself up out of the trench and rushed through the blasted wasteland. The rally point was over 500 meters away. She carried only her rifle as she abandoned the trenches, a hard decision that had to be made on the fly- one that, like many, would continue to haunt her.

The plasma throwers roared louder than before, their bolts flying low, lower than before, but even their pricing howls could not block out the sounds of panicked gunfire that soon become all-encompassing as the lines collapsed all around- the shrieking shouts of fellow Kanads as they ran scattered about the scorched hillside. The chain of command soon began to disintegrate under heavy bombardment.

Countless lives were quickly cut down in the middle of their desperate retreat, forcing Kalashi to frantically seek shelter within a crumbling overflow pipe near the village. She saw many of her comrades trying to do the same, trying to find safety under the wrecks of armored vehicles, the ruins of their fortifications, or even their dead in a vain attempt to reach some sort of momentary safety as the counter-attack poured onward towards them.

Cries of fear and hatred were heard as entire companies were trapped within this perfect kill zone, trying their best to shield themselves from the terrible weapons that were unleashed upon them by their enemy: the greatest enemy to the Collective, the Kanads, and all life everywhere within the Galaxy... Those damnable, damnable Sanghvi.

For they knew of no rules, nor held any remorse for their actions. The rules of engagement were callously tossed aside, for they demanded absolute success in every endeavor. Compromise, like emotion, was utterly alien to them. As such, they unleashed such terrible weapons onto their foes with no thought of restraint. It would never dare to enter their Hivemind. Their complete disregard for life was on full display here on this dreadful day.

Kalashi stood in silence as she watched all the death slowly unfold around her, the smell of rotting bodies quickly overtaken by that of the burning flesh of her comrades. Kalashi could only stare at her brothers in arms being torn apart by photonic fire. Her eyes were filled with hatred and fear as Kalashi gazed at the burning earth around her.

Dozens, if not hundreds, of wounded and dying Kanad troopers, were torn asunder in an instant by such weapons of terror. There were gargling screams as their very insides were boiled by cancerous radiation, cries of terror as their bodies were glassed in the blink of an eye, shattering a moment later with a horrible, unforgettable sound. The blinding beams of these photonic light weapons burned unprotective flesh on contact. All of these horrors and more were regularly unleashed by the Mantle.

For this was no battlefield; it was a slaughtering house for her Squadron. None would be spared from the Pale Armada. For, while some would be lucky enough to survive these ruthless naval bombardments, the Mantle was always absolute and so, after their guns had begun to fall silent, Kalashi would see the all-too-familiar flashes from up above the fiery clouds of the destroyed Naval Battlegroup. Tremors began to surround her, the very earth she stood on betraying her before she even had the chance to fully raise her rifle.

A monster of rock and stone-broke through the ground, blocking out the light of the red Sun as it stood before her. Countless pieces of concrete and dirt flew high into the air, and dense clouds of dust shrouded its entrance. Kalashi knew that the end had come for her. She hastily drew her sidearm as her eyes met with the towering silhouette moving within the smoke, firing one last volley of plasma bolts in defiance of her fate.

Kalashi soon met with the deadly Sanghvi in person, in utter darkness. Its body was only briefly illuminated by the trailing flashes of her pistol's plasma bolts flying through the air and impacting futilely against its obsidian shell.

In the span of a moment, it was all dark. It was an oddly painless experience- Kalashi could only feel her body lying devastated on the cold, hard rubble, surrounded by the rotting bodies of various Sanghvi sympathizers and supporters. She began to regret not standing by her comrades, not dying next to her battle-brothers instead of in a moldy ditch filled with traitors. A sense of coldness soon became overwhelming. This is what it felt like- what the end felt truly felt like.

In the utter darkness, where no sound nor sight could be found, Kalashi spent what felt like centuries. Suddenly there appeared an overwhelming light... The flashes of their beams cutting starships in half and killing so, so many... The Flashes of her life... The blinding, blinding flash...

Of the End...


-----

February 21st, 2426

Diamond Cove
The Shipyard
Sielia
Northwestern Quadrant

The flashes, the never-ending flashes of painful, painful memories... It had frozen Kalashi as she laid in an isolated pit in one of the more remote scrapyards on the world, one of few places she felt comfortable to rest in. Yet, the memories of the War and... Of her death tormented her endlessly.

Kalashi quickly produced a shot of Tox from her pockets and violently stabbed it into her mask, inhaling the narcotic gas into her respiratory system. Kalashi then entered into a state of numbness as the Tox took hold in her System, closing her eyes as she forced herself not to exhale for a moment and get the most out of the narcotic.

Finally, Kalashi let out a loud, deep, and erratic cough, shattering the glass capsule in her metallic claw. She hastily adjusted her breathing system, trying to correct her coughing fit as her body reacted hostilely to the chem.

For Kalashi, she heavily abused the drug to keep herself together, but it was always a fickle thing. Its reliability to stave off such terrible experiences was getting more and more unreliable these days.

Fortunately, for this time at least, the Tox performed its job and Kalashi was able to refocus herself on the task at hand. She quickly picked herself up from the pit, cumbersomely climbing out of in an almost hazed state.

She wiped her glass visor and stretched out her arms and legs, standing out from one of the mechanical pits. Kalashi soon started to perform minor maintenance on her mechanical body. She had seen better days, as times have gotten tough, and matching parts for her highly prototype body frame had become nearly impossible to find within the Renegade Quadrant, or at least not any areas that Kalashi could go to without getting a crosshair put on her.

Nevertheless, she continued to do what she could with herself, trying to get her metal body into a decent state the best she could before whatever these outlaws and bandits would have her do on some crazy idea of revenge. At least that was something that Kalashi could get on page with since her career was now effectively over once again.

Kalashi sure as hell knew that Tuar or his pet rock wouldn't be of any help to her after that last time they met in the Von'cron Cluster. She doubted that any of the hacks on this shitty cargo-ship or pirate den would be willing to lend a hand.

As Kalashi worked on herself, using only her tools as knew that none of these low-life pirates had anything worth a damn, she scanned through her data-feed, taking a second to look over everything new since that fucking disaster at VOG-1. She's mostly been keeping to herself these days, also because many Reavers have can't keep fucking staring at her with their hands on their hip. Kinda kills any chance to relax. Yet at least lately they finally figured out she wasn't going to do anything crazy, well, at least not yet.

Anyways, on her datapad, it seemed that nobody had taken the chance to jump on taking her head just yet. At least, nobody with anything other than a bunch of clowns who only have a head or two of some washed-up pirate on their

Still, the feeling, the news of her being a part of these...Lowlifes, a bunch of idiotic brutes who couldn't figure how to rub their collective two brain cells together, deeply disgust her- Kalashi started to put away her tools after finishing a few adjustments to her gyro-stabilators and giving her upper-servos some recalibrations.

She finished stowing her tools away in an underslung compartment nearby before walking out onto the Sun. She let out a loud sign as she noticed the landscape all around her.

Fucking great, She thought to herself as she looked up towards the Sun and then slowly glazed down to view the blue ocean before her, Going to be picking sand and salt from my frame for weeks...

After letting out a curse or two from under breath, she wrapped her cloak around her steely body and set off towards Amy, wherever she was in this den of lowlifes. First, though, she decided to take a moment to stop by the Bar here. Tox was surely there as it was a common alternative for those born with fucked up immune systems like the diminutive but sturdy and astute Lartorn and the towering, lanky and craven Demvarii. Both extremely common in the Galatic southwest and both able unable to ingest a hard-drink without going ghastly ill.

Kalashi mostly kept her cloak up and hid mostly out of sight, not wanting to get anyone too familiar looking to see her again. Especially in this part of the Galaxy. Thankfully, nobody managed to spot her true nature as she took a seat down at the Bar.

She made a hand motion of her holding a tube next to her mask's port, a universal gesture for a shot of Tox to a Bartender.

"16K, Hard..." She grumbled loudly towards them before spreading her arms over the counter, crossing them as she slumped herself forward.

Hopefully, they have something good here, something that's not just gonna get her in a haze with a bad coughing fit. She just needed something extra to take the edge off before she goes looking for Amy.

 

[Infab]

As soon as she was behind the Khergian, the bounty hunter hooked the foot she planted behind her for support and yanked it towards herself to bring disrupt her balance and bring her down.

The sudden jerk forced Drav to stumble a bit, throwing off her balance and sending her toppling over onto her chest. Drav chuckled as she rolled over onto her back and say up. "Good. Use surprises. Momentum helps, too." she soon said, standing up from the floor.

She then waited for Amy to stand. "Drav start simple. Throw punch combo. You dodge, counter." she said. Once Amy was ready, Drav moved in. Rather quickly, at that. Two straight punches, and a hook.

​

"Sooooo, you like dancing, Miss Aesha? Like fun dancing. You know - fast, good moves, moving your whole body. Stuff like... starpop. Gothrave. Bluevibes and Rainbow Rock?" Shelby bounced on his feet slightly, a habit of his when excited. Just a subtle swaying. "I've been doing dance streams and I need a partner!"

Aesha glanced to Shelby, bottle tipped up as she gulped down more of the whiskey. Once she lowered the bottle, she spoke. "Dancing? Sure! Always hit the clubs when I could between races. Still hit the clubs now when I can. Lauren comes with me a lot. Even dragged along Damien once, but he was a grump the whole time." she said, swirling the amber liquid around in the bottle for a few moments. She gazed down into it as she spoke, smiling a bit.

When Shelby mentioned doing dancing streams, she looked up. "Huh. A reporter with a side gig as a dancer." she said, with a chuckle. She took another drink of the whiskey, watching Shelby for a moment as they gently swayed. She seems pretty excited at the concept. Eh...what harm is there in doing it? At least it's not like that other streaming gig I was offered back when I was banned. Sit and talk for three hours about racing...right after being thrown out of it. At least with this, I can have a little fun.

"...Sure! I'll be your dancing partner." she soon replied, lowering the bottle down and shoving the cork back into it. "Do I need to come up with a stage name? Or...?"

​

"Tox, coming up." responded the bartender, as the reached under the counter and drew out a canister. There were six smaller canisters installed inside it, much like a revolver. As he drew one out, it let out an audible hiss. The smaller canister disconnecting from its housing. Once the short, thin canister was removed, he handed it to Kalashi promptly. "You can by the whole canister if you want. We got plenty. Bought a shitload of them from the Blackstars."

 

[Viper Actual]

Nathalie nodded just as Damien released her hand. "Understood. I'll go do some scouting then." She glanced at two Reavers that passed them before continuing. "I'll see you later- don't be stranger."

* * *
​

Elsewhere, undisclosed location
SSOID outpost

A pair of automatic doors parted as another individual entered the dimly-lit surveillance room. Some of the analysts currently seated at their stations offered the newcomer a brief glance before looking down into their mixture of monitors and holographic screens currently showcasing message logs, security feeds, wanted posters from the BCB and other data related to individuals that the SSOID were looking for.
The newcomer- a woman dressed in a shirt and pencil skirt with high heels- made her way to the center of the room which was occupied by a rather large glass cube. It was in reality a soundproof office for the section chief responsible for the analysts of this specific SSOID site, allowing him or her to observe the rest of the operation while also having the ability to partake in sensitive briefings and receive classified material without anyone else eavesdropping.

When the woman reached the cube she swiped an access card dangling from a lanyard around her neck, activating a green light before prompting the door into the cube to open itself with a faint hiss.

Entering, the woman waited for the door to close behind her before approaching the desk inside. Behind it was a middle-aged man dressed in a white shirt, suit pants and dress shoes. Currently he was wearing a pair of rectangular glasses as he viewed a report on the screen infront of him.

He glanced at the woman. "Yes?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

The woman approached a placed a datapad on the desk. "New orders from Terra. Intercept & Capture, Priority 1."

Grunting, the section chief locked his monitor screen which replaced the data visible seconds earlier with a blank grey screen with a padlock-icon on it. He grabbed the datapad and sighed as he reviewed the order. "'Liquidation optional but recommended,'" he read out aloud before scratching the back of his head. He looked up at the woman. "Get our three best on this. Let them know the priority. This is sensitive data though, keep it within these walls. Understood?"

The woman nodded. "Yes sir, understood. I'll get right on it."

Quickly, she grabbed the datapad and made her way back to the door. A few seconds later the section chief's office was empty once more. He sighed and took a sip from his coffee. Standing up from his chair he turned around to look out through his tinted glass windows and out over the office landscape below. Rows and rows of analysts slaving away behind screens to locate high-priority enemies of the state.

He shook his head. "And now one of our own is going up on the board," he muttered just the screen listing active operations was updated with another name;

N. Walker

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

"So, we gonna watch some Moomins? I haven't watched them since I was a kid, but it would be a nice nostalgia trip."

"No, in fact what you might see may be a little disturbing." he says, still tapping away on his pad. "But first, tell me about yourself. Your history, hobbies, interests, disgusts..." Typhon pulls up a seat right next to the patient bed. Unknowingly to Katja however, he's monitoring every bit of her vitals very closely just to see if there's any hang-ups, any fluctuations in her heart rate, and how she's breathing.

 

[Breadman]

Drav's speed caught her off-guard as Amy barely blocked the first hit. The second one was even harder. She barely had enough time to go under the hook. Good thing, too. It looked like it would have knocked something right off. On her way up, she tried to counter hit with an uppercut.

 

[Frankafurter]

Katja stares at Typhon then just shrugs and starts off, "I was born on Earth, in a small Finnish village. My mother died in labor and my father, who understood these things could happen, did his best to raise me. He never remarried or even went back to dating and often relied on neighbors to help take care of me while he worked to pay the bills. He wanted a son but was happy that he had me at least, often told me how much I looked like my mother, sometimes even acted like her. Despite the difficult childhood, I made enough friends at school to not feel completely alone, though I was pretty evenly split between hanging out with boys and hanging out with girls. I liked things like fishing and hunting, enough that my father gave me my puukko when he felt I was old enough to carry one responsibly."

Her hand sort of drifts down to the sheathe on her hip and fidgets the handle of the knife while she continues to talk, "When I was a teenager, I was more than a handful for him... arguments, hanging out with bad influences, you know the usual teenage years. It was then that I found my niche of being mechanically adept. I started working at a mechanic shop repairing people's trucks for the nearby sawmill, then moved on to working on my own projects in between the hired jobs. I was basically 'one of the guys' at that point, sadly my romantic life suffered for it because while I was still interested in men, the interpersonal relations often remained as just 'one of the guys', so, I just kinda gave up on finding a partner." Her shoulders shrug a bit, "Romance was never really a big deal for me, I just wanted to feel comfortable around others and not be kept on the outside of social circles." Her head turns to the side and she closes her eyes, "Then I met, Ari. We both lived in the same village but he was a grade ahead of me in school so we never really encountered each other directly. His father was the owner of the local sawmill and despite my initial thoughts of him being a silver spoon in hand sort of guy, he was very down to earth and overall pretty normal. We got along and he also enjoyed mechanic work, he had his own little project bike that he worked on and I would often come over and help him when I wasn't busy with my own stuff."

Katja opens her eyes and rolls her shoulders looking back to Typhon, "We never meshed romantically, but we were thick as thieves in our automotive exploits. We started running amateur rally events with me driving and him as the co-driver. We managed to win a few of them too. Finally, we went digging through an old junkyard and found a relic from the 1980s, it was a husk by that point but we restored it and poured our heart and soul into it. It became our obession project, finally, it was finished. We started falling in with the street racing crowd, also became sort of notorious with the local police who were ill equipped to stop late night races in the streets. We were an unstoppable pair in most cases, only edged out due to mechanical failures or just bad days for driving."

She clasps her hands together, "The final race we did was the death knell of that car, to win the race we sacrificed the car to reach the finish line, fortunately it was for pink slips so we managed to get the other pair's car to drive Ari to the hospital. He got hit pretty hard when one of the engine head's came off during the car's final breath and hit him. He had a few broken ribs and a deep tissue contusion. He... he survived and recovered but I think that was the end of his racing days for him. He had a couple close calls in the hospital during recovery and I think it made him re-evaluate his life priorities. We remained friends, but he swore off racing, including sanctioned events. He got more interested into just finding new ways to improve cars for others, make them safer without sacrificing performance, I understood why given his experience. He started his own mechanic shop that specialized in customizing cars and improving their safety while still letting them rip up the roads. I sometimes helped him if he had a bigger project than he could do alone."

Katja sighs and shakes her head, "But by that point, I realized without Ari, my own racing days were over and I quickly grew restless with just sitting around tinkering with cars all day wishing I could drive them. No one could meet the standards that Ari had set for me, so even when I found someone who could ride with me, they were often either too slow to read pace notes or too annoying to be around. I wanted a way out. Fortunately, news about the Ardent Pilgrim had spread as it neared completion. They were looking for colonists to take the big jump to some distant world that Earth's telescopes and probes had found, I can't remember the name of the planet, it was just some weird technical terminology. I called their enlisting branch and eventually went to the offices personally to see what job openings there were. Most of them were boring things like cooking or farming, and all the tech jobs were taken, but the one that had the most vacancies and given the fine print, it made sense why, was the mech pilot job. So I signed on for that and the rest I guess is sort of history by that point."

Her eyes focus back onto Typhon once more, "I guess my hobbies and interests are mechanical work, making machines do neat things, piloting mechs kinda folded into that due to the job billet. I like various kinds of music, helps me focus on tasks better and also helps tame bad moods. I've always been a little interested in maybe learning an instrument but I think I might be past that point given my current state. As for disgusts? I guess cooking, as much as I like food, I personally hate cooking. I always mess up the recipes or forget about them because I have other things going on, I just lacked the ability to really get into it. Creepy men, people who are too touchy feely, and arrogant punks are a big no from me. Though I do recognize that sometimes I can be arrogant myself, I try to not fall for it as much though. Dishonest scumbags are a huge no from me, so I guess that would make my life around here a bit tough given it's a bunch of cutthroat pirates and raiders..."

Katja sighs and brings a hand to her head as if trying to will away an oncoming headache, "Sorry, no offense, Doc, but I really wish I wasn't here amongst the Reavers. I appreciate you guys saving me from the icebox but from what I was being told while in rehab, it sounds like you guys are in a bit of deep shit and I kinda don't want to get drowned in the same pot as the rest of you. I more or less still have my entire life ahead of me and I'd rather not spend it checking over my shoulder every five seconds to make sure there isn't a knife sticking out of my back."

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

"Sorry, no offense, Doc, but I really wish I wasn't here amongst the Reavers. I appreciate you guys saving me from the icebox but from what I was being told while in rehab, it sounds like you guys are in a bit of deep shit and I kinda don't want to get drowned in the same pot as the rest of you. I more or less still have my entire life ahead of me and I'd rather not spend it checking over my shoulder every five seconds to make sure there isn't a knife sticking out of my back."

The vitals check out as Katja explains her history to him; no spikes, no sudden fluctuations, no instability. Everything's normal... for now. Though Typhon can't help but slowly shake his head while Katja makes her request to leave. She wants to run off now, does she? After they've rescued her and decided not to sell her off to a cutting shop? For God's sake, she's not even going to leave her mech behind as co-payment, is she? But, if she wants to run off all alone in pirate-infested space and get herself killed, that's up to Valkyrie. Typhon very obviously disapproves, however.

"I am not the one to speak of this to, but since you have said this to me now, then allow me to say that leaving right now is a terrible idea." he sternly replies. "You have been in stasis for a considerable amount of time, Miss Katja. The world has changed much since then and the home you once lived in no longer exists. All your relatives and friends are all long dead and Finland had dissolved into the abomination known now as the Sol Systems Government. There is no home, no Ari, no father waiting for you. Your lot is with us now."

If this angers her, then hopefully the correct brain patterns will show on his scanner. If not, then he'll note it down as something to correct later.

 

[Frankafurter]

Katja wrinkles her nose slightly, "You think I don't know that? That everyone I know- knew, rather, are long dead and gone by this point. I know my life will never go back to normal, I understand that. But this whole... situation with some very large crimes against the galaxy being laid at your feet. As far as I know, I don't have that bounty sitting on my head and if I go, I have a chance that I never will. Again, I appreciate the rescue and I'll do what I can to help out around here until I can safely leave, but the second that door opens and I can get a ride out of this entire area of the galaxy and maybe find some quiet little backwater colony to settle on, I'm going for it. Like, I'm not a pirate, and it's not a life I exactly want to start on, that's a fast track to an early grave. I'd like to die of old age or at least die on my own terms, not someone else's."

Her patterns hold normal for someone who's angry, but the intensity of the emotion is clearly having an effect on the implants as the bioluminescence starts brighting up to the point where it's noticeable even under the lights of the medbay. She attempts to get off the bed and leave, "Look, brain damage, frozen for centuries, and now I'm indebted to a bunch of criminals is not exactly how I wanted to end up. Yeah, it's better than ending up on some autopsy table or in the belly of a black hole, but it's far from ideal given the situation you guys have landed in." If she's not stopped, she would leave and head back towards the hangar where her mech has likely been hauled back to for inspection after the incident.

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

If Katja was looking closely, she'd see both Typhon's scanner and his eye light up the moment her tattoos start gleaming. The data he's receiving from it is extremely remarkable, and the brain patterns match precisely with what he's looking for. Unfortunately though, it seems like he got a little too much underneath Katja's skin and now she's not wasting another second here. 'It would've been nice to see those tattoos under a microscope...' he thinks to himself. He gives a quick glance at Easel before taking a deep breath and standing up.

"Fine then. This assessment is canceled." he says while putting his datapad aside. "Go and speak to the captain. See if she will let you go."

As much as Typhon wants to examine her further, he can't help it if his patients refuse his treatment. But maybe if he's lucky her corpse will manifest somewhere later.

 

[Frankafurter]

Katja grumbles to herself as she finally exits the medical clinic, she's spent most of her time cooped up in it and she really does not want to be in there anymore. She heads back over to the hangar area to see if they brought her mech back, her walk over there allowing her temper to cool a little bit and with it the glowing tattoos faded back down. She enters the hangar just as it seems the techs have finished bringing back to the mech, she walks over to it to inspect it then looks around for where Zadra might have gone. Finding the impish woman missing, she collects a ladder and starts doing her own assessment of the mech's exterior and some of its interior where tools may not be necessary to open it up. Once she's finished with her own inspection she decides to stroll a bit and look at the other mechs in the hangar. She comes around a smaller humanoid mech that looks human in origin, the paint is pretty scuffed up but it seems to be getting prepared for a fresh coat. She stands by and watches it idly as she occasionally glances back to her mech then the other more unusual mech in the bay, she ponders on who her co-workers will be if she's forced to stay and help out as a pilot. Ideally, she will get to leave and maybe find somewhere quieter and less hazardous to live.

 

[Infab]

Easel watched quietly as Typhon and Katja spoke, eventually observing as Katja exited the medical bay of the bunker. She cut a look to Typhon, before speaking. "...You do recall that our duty as medical professionals is to ensure the survival and care of all those around us. Not allow them to just waltz away, potentially to an untimely death. Unless you signed quite a different contract than I did." she stated rather bluntly, before turning about and departing from the medical bay herself. "And your bedside manner could use a bit of touching up." was the last thing she said before the door shut behind her.

She strolled quietly through the bunker, moving towards her quarters. She would, of course, have to write a report on all that had been done regarding Katja. Her contract with Valkyrie required that, written into it by Easel herself. She had to do it whenever she performed her work back in YsCom. It prevented lawsuits back then. Here, it was just covering her tracks so she didn't get bitched at for not doing specific things. Really, she hoped Valkyrie talked Katja into staying. Or something convinced her to. Something needed to be done regarding those strange implants. Otherwise, she would suffer more brain damage, eventually sinking into a vegetative state. And if Easel could help prevent that, she would.

​

On her way up, she tried to counter hit with an uppercut.

Drav smirked. Once Amy swung upwards, she leaned backwards to dodge before latching onto the huntress' arm and spinning. Swinging Amy around before releasing. Amy flew through the air, before hitting the mat they were standing on and sliding. "Enemy counter too." she stated, as Amy went to get up off the mat.

​

It wouldn't take an hour for Eve to receive a response from her contact, the android shifting to look at her hand. On the back of her black mechanical hand, a little blue light was blinking. "Ah. Excuse me for a moment." she said, looking up to Valkyrie and the other captains. She turned about, walking a ways down the beach as she tapped on her forearm. Valkyrie and the other captains watched for a moment, some folding their arms. Hopefully it was something worthwhile.

"You were looking for leads on an ONI operative by the name of Dazik Noske, correct? I've come across a single lead regarding his whereabouts. But, I'll need a favor from the Reavers before I hand that information over." stated the feminine voice over the comms line. Eve shifted her stance, looking out over the ocean. "You recall most of my work deals in favors, Nonara." she replied.

"Of course. Shadespear Terminal. I'll need Valencia and her associates to meet by brother there. Valencia should already be familiar with him."

"I'm sure she is. Nil tends to get around quite a lot. I assume Caiden will be with him?"

"But of course. I've instructed them to meet the Reavers at the Quicksilver Bar. Once they meet, I'll speak to them directly through Nil about the details of the favor. Do be punctual, please."

"I always am, Nonara."

A moment later, the comms link was cut. Eve turned back to the group, walking over quickly towards where Valkyrie was standing. As soon as she arrived, Valk spoke up. "What'cha got, Eve?" she asked, studying the drone. Eve looked to her, then to Slade and Chang. "My informant wishes for you to meet an associate of hers at the Quicksilver Bar on Shadespear Terminal. You know him already. Nil." she stated, shifting her attention back to her maker.

Valk raised an eyebrow. "Lavender mohawk, dresses like a gimp half the time, kinda short, has an older guy named Caiden following him around?" asked Valk. Eve nodded. "Yeah. I know him. Has a hard-on for destruction and slaughter." added Valk afterwards, "And let me guess...his sister, Non, is your informant."

Eve nodded again, which made Valk smile. "Small galaxy, it seems." she said, before looking to Slade. "We've run into her White Roses a few times in the past. Fun bunch. Didn't know the Black Masks were involved with them." Eve spoke up as soon as Valk finished. "We are, thanks to Uric." she said simply.

The smile faded as quickly from Valk's face as it had appeared, as she looked back to Eve. "...A conversation for another time, mother." stated the drone, "For now, you should probably gather those you're taking with you." Valk's eyes traced Eve's blank face for a moment, before slowly nodding. "...Right." she said softly afterwards.

Her head eventually shifted to face Slade and Chang. "You two already have your instructions. The others need to continue with current operations, but be especially careful. Everyone's got it out for us now." Slade and Chang gave Valk a nod in confirmation, before turning about and walking up the beach. Valk shifted her attention back to Eve, before motioning for the android to follow. "You're coming with me, Eve." she stated, as she started to walk towards the bunker. "Understood, mother." was the drone's response, following after her.

It wasn't long afterwards before each of the members of the group received a message from Valkyrie, requesting that they gather inside the bunker's large planning room. Lauren, arriving before everyone else, simply grabbed one of the steel utilitarian chairs and spun it about. Straddling the chair and resting her arms and head on the back. She had visited Pearl in the bunker's medical facility, checking in on her 'sister'. She had been doing so from time to time after recovering from her head injury, sometimes running into Taur as well. Easel had stated that her recovery was progressing remarkably well, and she'd be all healed up in no time. Good news out of all this crap, at least.

Damien arrived second, grabbing a seat away from Lauren on the opposite side of the room. He sat back in the chair, a serious look on his face. His eyes shifting to look directly at the large holotable in the center of the room. He didn't say a word to his sister, whom simply glanced in his direction.

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

Typhon shakes his head to himself as Easel scolds him for his apparent detachment from his patients. Now, what's wrong that? Especially in a case such as this? Katja made a very good point in all her grumbling that perhaps staying away from a pirate group that is currently the most wanted in the entire galaxy might actually be safer for her, and Typhon very much agrees with this sentiment. Everyone is coming for their head and at this point it's only a matter of when they'll be having to evade whatever fresh meat the BCB sends their way... or Sol, or the Feds, or just about anyone really. So why does Easel consider this rude when he truly believes he might be saving her life here by letting her walk away before things get ugly? Not to mention she's not even a Reaver, so even by his contract which tells him specifically his job is to provide care for Reavers, Katja just doesn't qualify.

So if a patient wishes to refuse treatment, something any true doctor needs to understand they're allowed to do, what can he do when Katja doesn't even want to be here and actually has a good reason to leave? Who knows, maybe she'll luck out again and find some forgotten Finnish colony out there somewhere she'll find a new home. Typhon rubs his face, wondering how he'll make Easel understand that it might just be better to let her go. Unfortunately she didn't bother sticking around and seemed quite angry at him, so he'll just have to leave her alone for now. The med-bay doors close shut behind him, leaving it fully empty while he's off to the beach. There's nothing else for him to do, and he's been cooped up in there for too long now, so why not try to enjoy this planet before they're all arrested or killed?

He pulls out a cigarette from his carton and starts smoking, though he looks over to the side and sees Aesha a short distance away being accosted by that boy they picked up on VOC-1. He stares at them both before tilting his head upward and looking at the sky, trying to remember older times when his skin could still feel the warmth of the sun. Though a message interrupts him before he could truly feel it again. Apparently Valkyrie wants everyone to assemble inside the planning room. Maybe she’s finally got something on Anora? Whatever it is, he sulks there by his lonesome, quietly entering in and taking a seat near Damian.

 

[Frankafurter]

Katja is interrupted from her observation of Olivia's mech as something buzzes in her pocket, she reaches down and pulls it out looking at it curiously, it was a small datapad maybe the size of a 20th century pager that just said "Meeting Requested." She has no idea how she had been walking around with this item in her pockets without noticing, maybe it was in the pocket already when she had put the clean clothes provided to her initially. Either way, this may be her chance to talk to this "Valk" woman and maybe find a ride out of this rather high stakes game of death she's been plunged into. She muses to herself a bit. Doc did have a point, the galaxy is a rather dangerous place and as someone who's a fish out of water, might be quite deadly to venture around alone. No telling who'd try to take advantage of me. Maybe I'll see what this woman wants at the meeting and decide from there.

With that, she heads towards the bunker and arrives at the meeting room, seeing Typhon whom she just stormed out on, Valk the presumed leader of this entire operation, as well as a woman and a man that she vaguely recalls being in the starship medbay that Easel had woken her up on, the Guillotine she thinks it was called. Judging by some passing resemblances in facial features, she surmises that this was Lauren and Damian that Easel had mentioned during some of the small "briefings" during the initial rehab weeks to help bring Katja up to speed, the daughter and son of Valk. The mysterious hooded and masked woman standing near Valk she doesn't recognize though, and she can't help but be intrigued by the person's appearance, what role did this person play in Valk's business. She folds her arms across her chest and stares at the holotable to discern if there was any sort of information being displayed at this current moment. Her tattoos seem to dimly flicker as if some sort of visual manifestation of her being lost in thought as she zones out a bit staring at the holotable.

 

[Breadman]

Amy got back up after Drav tossed her like she was a ragdoll. Figures that it was a matter of time before she had airtime. Getting up allowed her to asses the situation better for her turn to attack. If her opponent liked to get grabby, then there was something that could work with. Time for another move Alex taught her. She got another running start and leapt up to land an overhead kick, which was caught by Drav. Now for the tricky part. Amy managed to land her other leg on Drav's other shoulder and spend a split second practically sitting on her opponent's shoulders with her feet locking behind Drav's neck, pulling down and twisting herself around her opponent so she could bring her down on the matt.

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Aesha glanced to Shelby, bottle tipped up as she gulped down more of the whiskey. Once she lowered the bottle, she spoke. "Dancing? Sure! Always hit the clubs when I could between races. Still hit the clubs now when I can. Lauren comes with me a lot. Even dragged along Damien once, but he was a grump the whole time." she said, swirling the amber liquid around in the bottle for a few moments. She gazed down into it as she spoke, smiling a bit.

When Shelby mentioned doing dancing streams, she looked up. "Huh. A reporter with a side gig as a dancer." she said, with a chuckle. She took another drink of the whiskey, watching Shelby for a moment as they gently swayed. She seems pretty excited at the concept. Eh...what harm is there in doing it? At least it's not like that other streaming gig I was offered back when I was banned. Sit and talk for three hours about racing...right after being thrown out of it. At least with this, I can have a little fun.

"...Sure! I'll be your dancing partner." she soon replied, lowering the bottle down and shoving the cork back into it. "Do I need to come up with a stage name? Or...?"

Shelby couldn't resist a gleeful clap of the hands at Aesha's approval. Now he wouldn't have to do everything alone, or at least not all the time. Having someone as cool as Miss Aesha around - someone like him, who wasn't some streetborn pirate - would go a long way to improving the down time around here. So far the pirates seemed... not at piratey as he would have thought, not like how the popular movies made them out to be, or the net videos that got passed around. The du Pont's made their fortune in shipping so he had seen plenty of the ruthless and ingenuous methods pirates went to when stealing their cargo, but none of them had ever seemed like the Reavers. Valkyrie's group was sort of like a... a family, in a way, excluding the fact she did have children in the gang, too.

"H-Ha, yeah, if I don't have any journalist stuff to do I... ah, do streaming. Its a lot of fun! And you don't have to have a stage name or anything. You can be whoever you want! Buuuut a cool name does go a long way, especially since maybe going with our, I mean your, real name might not be the best. You know. Pirates and all that. Don't want the hosting service to ax the program. Not like I can't get around that, though. I know, like, all the services. And some people who work with them."

His wrist terminal vibrated, catching his attention as he noticed a local net message sent their way. "Oh! I guess that message is for us. Miss Valkyrie wants to have a meeting."

 

[K0mori]

Zadra had nearly given up looking for Vixaya when she heard the unmistakable cadence of the Kanad language, although the voices sounded distorted, unlike any she had heard before. Turning, she found herself looking down a long and narrow path between market stalls, each of which was positively overflowing with trinkets and goods from far and wide, most of which being either stolen or worthless, but nonetheless for sale. A few stalls in, staring blankly at an old and dirty holoscreen, was Vixaya. As Zadra approached, she realized that the pilot was fixated on some kind of cartoon show from Kosokom, to the point that she didn't even seem to notice her despite being within arm's reach.

Then, without looking up, the kanad spoke. "Spaska," she said. Hello.

As usual, her voice was dreary, and her black hair hung like a curtain over her yellow eyes. It was a wonder she could even see the images projected in front of her. Beyond the counter, a disinterested ara-phi was organizing the merchandise, mainly bootleg recordings of various programs and illegally copied software. Small bugs flew about in the humid air as a slight breeze carried the smell of some delicious street cooking down the path. That's when Zadra noticed that Vixaya had bought herself a cheeseburger at whatever counter the scent was originating from, and with a slow lift of her hand, the kanad brought it up to her mouth, which opened just as slowly, and she bit off an entire half of the sandwich in one greasy bite. "Ke sama metik..." I like this... "borger," she said, with a mouth full.

 

[Infab]

The spectacular move that Amy used caught Drav by surprise, and forced her to cut a complete flip and land on her rear on the mat almost in a daze. What the hell was that? Once Drav regained her bearings, she laughed. "Nice!" she said aloud, looking back to Amy. She slowly climbed to her feet, straightening up and smiling. She heard a beep nearby, on the bench she had been working out at previously. A message on her holotablet. "We practice more later. Drav got message." she said, holding up a hand as she moved towards the bench.

Once she arrived, she picked the tablet up and switched it on. A single message appeared in her inbox. Valk, wanting everyone to gather in the planning room in the bunker. "Boss want people to gather in bunker. Planning room." she said, pocketing the tablet after switching it off. She glanced up to Amy. "Showtime, Drav guess." she added. She called over to Roge, whom was on the treadmill doing his workout. "BOSS SAID GO TO PLANNING ROOM IN BUNKER." she called out, before moving towards the gym's exit herself.

​

"H-Ha, yeah, if I don't have any journalist stuff to do I... ah, do streaming. Its a lot of fun! And you don't have to have a stage name or anything. You can be whoever you want! Buuuut a cool name does go a long way, especially since maybe going with our, I mean your, real name might not be the best. You know. Pirates and all that. Don't want the hosting service to ax the program. Not like I can't get around that, though. I know, like, all the services. And some people who work with them."

"Yeah, you're right. Not the brightest idea to be using my actual name on your streams. Hmmm..." she said, as she reached over and picked up her shorts. As she slipped them on, she mulled over some potential names. None of which had that particular charm she wanted. Well...there was one old name she used at one point when she was first getting into racing. Nobody would remember it. Hopefully. "...Freyja. Call me Freyja when we do the streams." she said, as she secured the button on her shorts.

She climbed to her feet, slipping her sandals on as she heard Shelby mention the message from Valk. She tapped her holoband, and noticed the same message. "...Guess we better head that way, then." she said, looking back to Shelby as she reached down and picked her whiskey up.

​

"Ke sama metik... borger."

"[Yeah, burgers are pretty great. I wouldn't eat them all the time, though. Bad for the arteries.]" said Zadra, switching to the Kanad spoken language as she looked between Vixaya and the screen. It looked as though her Blackstar experience would pay off yet again. "[...What's this show you're watching?]" she said, eventually folding her arms as she ended up watching the screen herself. She had never really paid much attention to the programs that were put out by the various factions around the galaxy. Well, beyond a few cartoons that Lauren watched.