Futuristic Starpath X: Shadow Contingency

[joshuadim]

Chapter 1: On the Hunt​

Sleep avoided Vance like the plague as he remained atop his bunk; his eyes stared at the metal ceiling above, passing the seconds that dragged on for ever as he ruminated over a few matters. His encounter with Kane, as sudden as it was, left many questions up in the air. Who the hell was he? What was he after? How was he that strong? They traded blow for blow almost equally in many respects. Technique and form indicated military training, beyond the increased agility and speed from whatever the man was on. But Vance knew he was better. Were it not for his general out-of-form status after being out of commission for so long, he believed that he could've won that fight. Or rather, at least give them more time to get out of a rapidly collapsing building. That was too close of a call, all things considered.

There was also the matter of DeSaad hiding things. If he saw fit to not tell them about Kane's differences in the first place, what else was he withholding? Not to mention, the damn chemical weapons and their original use. "Bastard." Vance muttered under his breath. Wasn't the first time someone lied to his face. But he didn't trust DeSaad from the moment they met regardless, so it wasn't a deep wound. But what did linger was the unease over someone so willing to sacrifice so many lives. It didn't sit right with him that someone with that kind of mind was wielding such power in the first place.

The datapad on the stand nearby snapped Vance out of his thoughts as it gave a beeping notification. Turning over where he lay, Vance tapped the screen only to be greeted by Natasha's voice: "We've got a hit on the trail analysis. Get on over here."

Lana would receive the same message as well, leading to the two reconvening at the Modus Operandi's control center at the heart of the ship with Natasha. Mooles was there too, sipping on a cup of coffee as he observed a projected hologram of the computational findings. "From Rygel III, the ion trail dissipated a few systems away before going cold on the sensors. But, by cross-referencing ODI - and local law enforcement - databases on other nearby systems, we've determined the likely destination of the ship." Natasha announced, tapping her holopad again. The projection then zoomed in towards its main interest. "The Lemnis System, an agrarian backwater by all accounts with one small habitable planet - Lemnis IV. Databases indicate that there were investigations by regional authorities into the planet's use as a stopping point for smugglers. Nothing was ever officially reported."

"Nothing found? Or..." Mooles asked aloud, not finishing his sentence as his gaze remained affixed to the holographic projection.

"Likely they were bought off for their silence." Natasha said with a nod.

"What are we looking for there?" Vance asked, crossing his arms.

"Ideally, a direct trail to Kane. Though more than likely we'll be following leads at the planet's only major city, Kondri." Natasha replied, only to garner a scoff from Mooles.

"Can you really even call it a city?" Mooles asked aloud, "It's just a bunch of smaller boroughs meshed together out of convenience."

"Lana, any questions or insight?" Natasha then asked, turning her gaze to the silent merc on hand.

Breadman

 

[Breadman]

Lana looked at the map. Kondri was a hub of activity in the sector for her profession. Specifically for illegal activity.

"Gold Dust syndicate has a trade route going through here." She motioned. "Diamon powder." Something humans used to call nose candy, was a product the syndicate was more than happy to export to the rest of the galaxy. Once they found out that you could combine it with certain plants for a synthesis that makes it palpaple to the senses of their alien neighbours, business boomed. Rigel III was just distant enough to be noticed by Sol, but for them not to care. "Don't like me." Lana allowed a light smirk. "Don't like me shooting up their casino on Fortuna." She shrugged "Business." Her eyes moved to the map again before she asked a question. "Will be anywhere near them?"

 

[joshuadim]

Natasha brought up a holographic representation of the Gold Dust's symbol into view, as well as a a variety of blurbs and informational boxes regarding the syndicate themselves. Vance scanned them over briefly and found a poor taste in his mouth. These type of people weren't good for any neighbourhood, with acts ranging from weapons trafficking to horrendous drug exploitation. They were a, to put it bluntly, a cancer growing amidst a sea of governmental failures and cracks. One of many in a shady ecosystem such as this, which made a few things more apparent to Vance; first, the state of Sol itself outside of appearances alone being anything but functional outside of its core systems. People were left to the wolves in the places where administration failed. And second, that Kane and his ilk were making ready use of these actors. In what way was still a mystery.

"Ah, the fucking Gold Dusts." Mooles said aloud with annoyance, "I've been on a few bust operations against them. Annoying, loud motherfuckers. Seems like whenever we take down a local op, two more come in their place."

"If we're lucky, we won't have to get involved with them." Natasha replied to Lana's inquiry, before Vance stepped up to the plate.

"Given the crowd we'll be in, we can't just waltz in like this." the super soldier muttered, which brought a grunt of affirmation from Mooles.

"Yeah. We'll be landing outside of town and making our way in civilian fits. No way anyone will talk to us if we come in strapped like we are now." the Commander responded.

Natasha shook her head then, letting out a scoff: "We need someone on comms and scanners still. The ship won't be grounded forever - it has advanced stealth capabilities, so it can provide overwatch support where needed as well." the ghost says before nodding to Mooles. "It's for the best if-"

"Absolutely fucking not." Mooles shot back through gritted teeth. His fists clench at the suggestion, and his pulse visibly rises.

"Do you *really* think you're in the right mindset to be in the field, Commander?" Natasha then asked with a cold glare, making her position on the matter firm.

Vance looked to Natasha, a bit surprised by the sudden shift in demeanour, before turning to Mooles to look the man over. He was very much justified in wanting to go after Kane, especially after losing his team, but he knew how much a hot head could lead to disaster. Too many people lose their attention when it is consumed by something else, leading them to get killed by something that was easy to avoid. Losing Mooles would be a disaster for the search effort, and Vance knew it: "Listen, Mooles, maybe she's right."

The ODI Commander then glared at Vance, looking as though he had been betrayed with a dagger to the back as he struggled to remain composed in that moment. But something through that outer facade cracked, as he shifted ever so slightly backwards.

Breadman

 

[Breadman]

Mooles was a soldier and wanted to get back to the frontline as any good one does. Unfortunately for them, that would mean endangering the entire operation on account of him wanting to get back in the fray for revenge. Lana could understand that even respect it, but its not what they needed right now. He'd have his day if they play it right.

"Have civilian clothes and cover." She motioned again, trying to switch away from the tense topic at hand "Business type. Mid manager look. Just needs a briefcase for a complete corporate feel." She joked, but that gave her an idea "Any false bottom ones around? Can smuggle more gear that way." She wasn't sure it would work, but hey worth a shot.

 

[joshuadim]

"Hmm... a corpo look could work." Natasha then said, tapping the screen nearby to bring up a few key areas of interest onto the holodeck. A layout of the city formed intro a recognizable grid for all to see, with differing buildings holding noticeable elevations and designs. Once the analysis ran through, three pings appeared onto the map like drops in a pool. The first appeared to be an extensive nightclub on the first floor of a commercial area named "The Ivory Forum", with a general overview listed regarding the average spending habits of a patron as well as its owenrship. "This is the first option to look into - a venue that attracts all matter of criminal life into its arms. Mercenaries, killers, all manner of fixers... If Kane is dealing with someone as a supplier or intermediary, that's where he would have gone last."

Mooles paced around nearby as he composed himself from his previous outburst, leaving Vance to fill in: "I'm not sure... Kane and his followers were sporting serious hardware in the first place. Beyond the paygrade of places like this."

"I agree. Though... all things considered, it is bound to draw *less* attention. And some people on that level could be capable of supply and smuggling in that material, should they have the connections." Natasha then said, before swiping the screen to the second venue. The hologram zoomed into the second point of interest, a restaurant located on a terrance on the 12th floor of a building in the old town region. The name "Saffron House" appeared on screen as well as a compilation of its dishes and recent clientele; indicated by the onboard AI, there were a few discepencies in its budgeting and profits. This indicated, according to the algorithms at play, that there was likely some form of money laundering going on.

"This restaurant seems to be serving upper middle class residents in the Old Town area, but as you can see there probably is more to it than that." Natasha then said, which brough out a frustrated grunt from Mooles.

"A renegade terrorist wouldn't happen to wine and dine in some backwater world." Mooles retorted, shaking his head.

"Right, but it might still be worth looking into all things considered." Vance tried to reason, but an audible 'tsk' could be heard.

"Actually, all things considered we can only limit our search to two venues at most if we're lucky. Which leads to the final point of interest..." Natasha then said, swiping once more to bring up a highrise exclusive club - the only one within the city itself - situated at the top of one of the few highrises within the city proper. Named "The Afterlife", it was certainly exclusive and expensive from just appearances alone. "Now this place, this sparks my interest the most. It's a hub for offworlders and foreigners, the kind that don't mix with the population below. Probably have the strongest connection if there's any illicit activities being brokered from there too, which could explain Kane's equipment in the first place. And now," Natasha epxlained, zooming the overlay of the city back out again to its original overview, "we have to pick and choose."

"I say the first and third." Mooles immediately commented.

"I really, really think we shouldn't discount the restaurant." Vance then chimed in, causing Natasha to cock an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"Call it a gut feeling. But Kane doesn't seem the type to mingle with outsiders. Or with outside equipment. It's gotta be Sol or nothing."

"He's a terrorist, Vance!" Mooles then said, motioning his hands sharply. "He could be funded by a state adversary for all we know!"

The super soldier shook his head, stubbornly retaining his own intuition on the matter as he looked at the ODI ghost among them again. "I'm telling you-"

"Right... I think the Ivory Forum is a good baseline. But..." Natasha began to say before hesitating. She then turned to Lana: "What do you think?"

Breadman

 

[Breadman]

Lana thought for a few moments. All three options were good, but they could only hit two. She would go for the merc bar herself if she could, but the special agents wouldn't want that probably. Option three was the other one that made sense for off-world connections. The restauraunt didn't have anything of interest for her, but Vance seemed to be all in on it. She tilted her head as she looked at him. Then her mind trailed to someone else.

Remember kids. You're going to be flying blind for at least half of your career. You wont have intel other than your target and what to do with it. Improvisation is key and if the dumbest nonsense option is the only thing you can come up with to do something to get to that target, then its probably the only right way. Thats our way. The Boome way.

Seth had a way with words. If her clone brother would approve, then it might be the right call.
"One and two." She motioned with her hand. "Can drill the idiots for information in the Forum." She glanced at Vance "Trust him."

 

[joshuadim]

Vance gave a nod to Lana, a silent thanks for her support on the matter, before crossing his arms and waiting for the decision to be made. Natasha looked at the map again before shrugging: "Alright, if you trust the restaurant then it's on you whether or not it ends up being anything." the ghost said before looking over to Mooles, studying his reaction. The man was visibly frustrated at the continued insistence of the super soldier towards his own gut feelings. Everything he knew from his years in ODI screamed at him the obvious targets for an op like this. This went against everything that he had learned while on the field, and built up through his own operational intuition on picking and choosing targets. Yet, here he was being outnumbered by those he was assigned with.

"Fucking... fine." the ODI commander muttered, "The restaurant it is. We'll check that out first. If there's nothing there, that's on your ass." He levelled the warning onto Vance as he went over to one of the nearby consoles. He sat at one of the seats in the room before bringing up a window for surveillance and a window for additional data running. The former was to keep an eye using the Modus Operandi's built-in systems to use everything that has a camera and a microphone in its range to provide eyes and ears from afar to operatives on the ground. A system like this was highly-experimental, which is why it was only included on this vessel. It also represented a breach of privacy on an unprecedented scale, which didn't go over Vance's head as he observed the workings with a furrowed brow.

The data programs in the meantime provided real time scraping of StarNet and various databases to cross reference information fed into it through either user input or from voice clips and commands. There, the ship's AI core provided additional neural networking power to make intelligent decisions in removing unrelated queries and to display the most likely possibilities with high degrees of confidence based on its ODI trained model. Also a frightening display of technological power, used for potentially illicit ends as Vance couldn't help but grimace. Methods such as these didn't sit well with him, yet he was no stranger to getting his hands dirty. When it came to a greater good, certain compromises had to be made sometimes. But even then, there were lines he wasn't willing to cross. What those were, he didn't know yet.

Natasha in the meantime wordlessly moved to her cabin to get changed into the corpo disguise that the trio would wear on the ground to blend in throughout the operation. Vance's own suit barely fit him due to his massive stature, and was definitely tight around the waist as he stumbled out of his quarters. Natasha took a good look at him and couldn't help but chuckle: "Guess even ODI can't get tailoring measurements right."

"I'm more of a outdoors kinda guy than a ballroom dancer." Vance said back with a scoff, "Won't be in this for long, at least."

"Wouldn't count on it, big man. The kind of crowd this planet draws is always itching for a fight. Trouble never seems to need a reason here."

"Well, if that's how they want to play it then I am the trouble."

Meeting up with Lana, who also now wore a suit of her own to blend in as a corpo agent, the trio got together towards the exit bay and when the ship landed they exited to a vista close by to the Kondri. The ship's built in stealth capabilities allowed them to get that close already to the urban settlement without detection, but beyond that they were now on their own on the ground. As the Modus Operandi took off with its autopilot capabilities, their comms crackled to like: "Comm check." Mooles spoke.

"Loud and clear Overwatch." Natasha replied.

"Good. I'll keep an eye out and let you know if anything changes. But for now, all signals point to an all clear. No traffic on any channels about our arrival."

"Let's keep it that way. Heading to the city now. Out." Vance said, before leading the way. "Alright. Natasha is the main talker, I'm a business associate. And Lana is the bodyguard. Strong and silent type." the vintage soldier then said, giving a thumbs up to his two companions. "Hopefully, nobody asks too many questions that are hard to answer."

---

Kondri, Lemnis System, Sol Systems Alliance Space

The city itself, as Mooles adequately described, seemed small compared to the megalopolises of core worlds such as Earth and Mars. Only six million people lived here, which was but a fraction of any major cosmopolitan centre in the galaxy at this time. Though, what it made up for in size it contrasted with density as the city was suffocatingly packed; apartments blocks were narrow and the streets even narrower to the boulevards one might expect within an urban area. This place seemed to be obsessed with maximizing usage in the most haphazard ways possible, as there was a mishmash of stores, homes, and random in-betweens littered on the ground floors.

But this density also made the danger a lot more difficult to spot, given the crowds and the sheer amount of vantage points available to potential hostiles. Vance looked around with worry, and Natasha picked up on this. "Relax, we haven't picked up any attention to have to worry about that yet." the ghost said as reassurance.

"Doesn't hurt to keep alert." Vance replied, keeping his gaze darting between the narrow alleyways, the rooftops, and the dozens of other points of exposure - such as balconies, walkways, and more.

Breadman

 

[Breadman]

Lana returned the nod to Vance. As reckless as going with one's gut like that may sound, its what got her this far. With the meeting done, she returned to the quarters that were given to her. She quickly took off her usual gear and put on the civilian clothing. Someone had taken her suggestion seriously it seems, as she found a briefcase that wasn't there before. Sure enough, it had a false bottom. Perfect for hiding something extra that she couldn't hide in the jacket or under the vest of her outfit. Soon enough she joined the rest as they prepared.

Vance was...he barely fit in that disguise. Somehow not the worst she'd seen. Better dressed and mannered than any of her brothers that have tried to do it.

Alright. Natasha is the main talker, I'm a business associate. And Lana is the bodyguard. Strong and silent type.

Lana gave a thumbs up to her role. Technically the same she'd been doing till now, but can't complain.

Down on the ground, she did her best to keep an eye out for any present dangers. In places like this, they were just about everywhere. The trick of course was not to get their attention. While 3 business people might seem like an easy target, if at least one of them looked ready to break someone's skull, then most wiseguys would take a second to reconsider. The smart ones at least.

 

[joshuadim]

"Never said it did." Natasha responded, her eyes trailing over to a nearby workshop that was selling counterfeit electronics and gadgets at a cheap price. Looking over the materials she could hazard a few guesses: scavenging from dump sites across Sol, buying in bulk from manufacturers from the source, or just outright stealing. All in all, the components were stripped out of their original owners, rewired and repackaged, and shipped off for the needs of others. Whether that was just a cheap holo-tablet made from bootlegging parts, or certain gadgets make for illicit purposes. All of it operated strictly within an untraceable grey market that often times dipped its toes into the black. It wasn't particularly illegal, but it wasn't good work either. However, for people here it was probably one of the only ways to make money to survive.

Another indicator of Sol's inability to deal with its internal problems, as the rather rundown nature of living was self-evident around the trio as they moved through the small city's streets. Vance himself looked on with pity to some of the people who were scraping by, trying to make ends meet in whatever way they can. Good people could be driven to do unsavory things if the situation called for it. When it came to putting food on the table for their kids, parents would do anything that would scrounge up credits in this backwater. But what Vance grew angry at was the inability for these people to get what they needed for a stable life. That was the fault of Sol for failing these people.

"How the hell does Sol allow this to happen in their own systems?" Vance muttered.

"There's been a gridlock over these sorts of things for decades now." Mooles then chimed in through their earpieces. "Political infighting. And the corps swoop in to pick apart the failings."

"Surely there should be at least someone who cares?" Vance then asked.

"There are. But they're too tied down by the processes to do anything about it. It'll be a while, if ever, before these places get what they need. It's why they're hubs for the criminal element now. Opportunist vultures." Mooles explained further, but this earned a scoff from Natasha.

"There are no good people in politics." she retorted.

Breadman

 

[Breadman]

While scanning the area, Lana noticed a familiar, but still unnerving sight. In the workshop were two mercenaries. Armor painted black with with white patterns going up and down their body. Death Vigil. The two were shopping for parts by the looks of it.

"Where did you get this from?" One of them asked the merchant. "Doesn't look like something a scrap rat would find."

"Confidential information, my friends."

"If that's scavenged, you've either picked up a crate that fell of a military truck or you've been digging through destroyed ships." The other one looked through the parts. "How much?"

"Five hundred per part."

"That's a bit steep."

"I usually sell it for a thousand."

"Motherfucker are you out of your damn mind?" Lana would have to miss the resolution of this little episode as she noticed she was falling too far behind from Vance and Natasha. Though their situation was not unique. Death Vigil always decendet on shops and merchants looking for something to take either with credits or other means. Largest group of implant addicts in the galaxy. The augment culture of the outfit is rampant and if they don't get a shinny new toy every now and then, they get upset. Lana has lost count of the times she's had ran into them and they pull some trick from a new gadget that has been grafted to their flesh.

They didn't seem to have noticed her, which is good considering the mission right before this had her trashing a warehouse under their watch. She may have been on their shitlist by now. Risks of the job, but one she didn't need to worry about right now. She kept looking out for any danger and noticed a tag on a wall on the other side of the street. Gold dust turf with a safehouse nearby. If Natasha's intel was right, this part of the city should have minimal number of their goons running around in this neighborhood. Lana looked up to the building that was tagged and wondered which appartment was the safehouse. Was it even the same building?

Everything else looked like the normal problems a city like this would offer. Local gangs, hustlers and petty crime bosses trying to get their piece of the pie while the offworld syndicate and rich corpos take the lion's share. Whatever is left, the locals have to scrape and fight over. No wonder Vance sounded angry, how was this fair? Lana didn't think of herself as an idealist, but there was still a part of her that could feel for those getting the raw deal. She wasn't going to kid herself into thinking that taking down Kane would improve their lives in any real way. That was beyond their reach. However it was a nice change of pace to work with someone who wasn't a pessimist, a by the numbers army wash out or a downright psycho.

 

[joshuadim]

"Alright, keep heading up on this street 'till you reach the intersection, then take a left. There should be a sign to indicate the restaurant." Mooles then chimed in again through their comms units. A moment of silence passed, but there was an audible tension on the line as Mooles struggled still with the decision to go with it instead of the highrise club. But he kept his tongue still on the matter: "The ship's systems pulled up some additional info: the owner is one Samir Antar, small business owner... immigrant from Punjab back on Terra. No criminal record on him, but has been victim to an extortion ring operating here. Small time gang called the 'Black Hounds' who participate in rackateering, money laundering, and whatever side hustles they can get their hands on. I'd say these are who you'd want to have a 'chat' with regarding Kane. And they're probably in or around the restaurant to keep an eye on their asset. I'll keep you all updated on any other developments."

"Thanks Mooles." Vance replied before looking off to an alleyway nearby. There sat a group of gaunt and ragged people shooting up a concoction of chemicals and psychadelics as a means to escape the world, abused to no end as seen by the amount of wounds on their arms as well as their general demeanours. They were lost souls within a sea of middling poverty imposed upon them, and Vance couldn't help but grimace. The more he saw of Sol, the more he couldn't help but draw comparisons to how bad things got in his century. No matter how much a facade was put up, the rot was always underneath to haunt the people in charge and menace the people living alongside it.

Once making it to the intersection, the group followed Mooles' directions and found themselves in front of an unassuming bloc of buildings with a myriad of neon and digital signs at its front to advertise the businesses that worked here. Notably, there was a terrace at the top that served as one of two dining areas for the Saffron House as the trio noticed the sign for it. It looked as though it had seen better days - whether by vandalism or natural degradation - and yet there seemed to be a decent crowd of eaters being hosted. A concierge at the lower floor was manning a small podium and saw the undercover ODI agents on arrival. "Do you have a reservation...?" the well-dressed man with slightly unkempt hair asked politely.

"One moment." Mooles then chimed into their comms units again, "Natasha, try 'Ms. Evelyn.'"

"A table for three. Under 'Evelyn.'" the Ghost recited without hesitation, making the host look down onto his datapad and rummaged through a listing for a moment.

"Mhm... yes, I found you. Please head upstairs and into the main dining hall. The table will be ready."

Natasha nodded her head and was followed by Vance and Lana shortly thereafter; but Vance had questions, mainly about how Mooles knew about the reservation in the first place. "How'd you figure we'd get a table?" Vance asked.

"The ship is operating with military grade icebreakers. Hacking into a restaurant's database is literally child's play." the ODI commander responded rather bluntly, as if breaking into civilian hardware was a matter-of-fact and not something out of the ordinary.

"Seems like someone won't be having their dinner tonight because of us." Natasha commented.

"Better that they stay away if things get messy in there." Vance then said. He then motioned in sign language to Lana: Keep your eyes peeled.

Breadman

 

[Breadman]

Lana narrowed her eyes as they were asked for reservations. Reservations? In this dump? Was it the only good place to eat? People here must be having it rougher than she thought. The junkies nearby probably didn't help.

Natasha hacking in a reservation for them was less of a surprise. It was either that or slipping enough credits for the concierge to look away. The mercenary thought that maybe that would be cheaper than using the billion dollar tech on board the ship to change a bit of code around. Or did they get docked in pay if there are under the quota for uses. Maybe thats why the ghosts have a lousy reputation. All the toys they have to use.

Keep your eyes peeled.

'Always.' Lana responded back as she scanned the place. So far no real suspicious characters that stand out. There are a few tough guys sitting down to eat. Tattoos poking from under their sleeves or on the necks. Some net jockey is trying to film his blog for a webshow he's hosting using an eye implant. She could tell by how loud he was. Tough guys might make him quiet down if he keeps it up. A few couples trying to enjoy their food and experience. Might be a prime dating spot or they caught the love train. Her scan stopped on one guy looking at them from across the room. She slightly moved her head to face him. He couldn't be more than twenty in human years. There was no gang markings on him or anything to point he was affiliated with someone. The realization that she was staring him in the eye across the room startled him and forced him to look at his food followed by a paniked exit. It took a second for Lana to understand what just happened. That kid wasn't a spy or a lookout. He got caught checking her out from across the room and now embarrassed himself. He'll get over it. She lightly shook her head as she kept scanning for anything else. 'Looks clear.' She signaled to Vance.

 

[joshuadim]

​

Vance responded quickly to Lana's signage with his own, affirming that he read her. A gentle tune played over digital speakers as the tables wined and dined in the relative isolation that their perch afforded them from the rabble below. A myriad of conversations flowed between the groups that were present, ranging from the mundane - such as discussing work or recent developments - to more celebratory in nature as there was a drinking game being held at one of the tables accompanied by waves of cheers and boisterous laughs. Many of these people were undoubtedly better off than the vast majority of this planet's population, though were still considerably not *wealthy* by the main metrics. It was the petty bourgeois tactic of appearing more affluent than they actually were in order to feel better about themselves, which Vance observed with a face of indifference. But in reality, he could tell that not only were these people arrogant but they were also not actual residents here. Natasha noticed the same as she profiled the people they walked past.

"Probably temporary residents here from richer worlds. Either for work or for poverty tourism." Natasha whispered as commentary, "I doubt they even file their income taxes here."

"In a place like this you can spend and gain money without it popping up on any records." the supersoldier commented as he then spotted an empty table towards the rear of the establishment. It was neatly arranged in its own secluded spot amidst the others, providing some security from prying eyes and ears while bearing the same crimson red tablecloth that the other tables held. "I think that's us." Vance nodded towards the seating, which was affirmed by Natasha's own silent nod. The ghost also spotted from the corner of her eye, at the bar, that there was a well-groomed man with attire that differed from the staff.

"That's Samir." the Ghost then whispered as an image popped up to her wrist tablet. "I think we'll get a chance to speak whomever is holding his chain through him."

"Maybe we can also help him with his problem?" Vance asked.

"We're not a charity, Vance." the comms then sparked back to life with Mooles' voice. "We're here for information."

"And maybe we can get it by playing nice." Vance retorted, "I'd rather we left this place feeling good about ourselves in some way, you know?"

Before Mooles could repsond, Natasha also chimed in: "Logically speaking, it makes sense. The two aren't mutually exclusive."

Mooles audibly groaned from annoyance: "Fine. Still picking up no unusual chatter on any waves, you should be in the clear."

As the trio took their seat, Vance scanned the room again with his gaze as he kept tabs on every person he could see. Fortunately, they had their backs to the wall and thus wouldn't have to worry on someone coming from behind on them. But this also meant that they had put themselves into a corner willingly and meant that if something did blow up, they'd have the fight their way out in the midst of all these uninvolved civilians. Natasha was also mindful of this as her gaze looked for potential getaways, a part of her training as an deep-cover operative in the event that things went to shit; a ghost would always need to either find exfil, or to prevent capture by the enemy.

The ghost waved over for the attention of Samir, who quickly strode over to the table. "Greetings, I am Samir. May I interest you in our Vixian wine selection? Or perhaps liquors from somewhere exotic, such as the famed Ursataari klaaxi mead?"

"Actually, we would like to speak to the owner." Natasha then said, looking up to the man with a feigned smile.

"Apologies, I am the owner as well as front of house." Samir then responded politely, "How can I help you?"

"I meant the real owner."

Samir blinked twice as his customer-friendly demeanour quickly drooped to one of tiredness as he looked over to where the kitchen was before trailing back to the three. "...damn it. You're here for business aren't you?" he asked quietly, though with noticeably more hostility.

"A different kind of business. One that might help you with your problem, that being your boss." Vance then chimed in as he leaned forward. He was impossibly large compared to the table itself, giving an imposing stature even when he didn't mean to.

Samir looked over back to the kitchen doors again and then back to Vance: "Please, I don't want trouble..."

"There won't be for you if you fetch them for us." Natasha then chimed in, her tone growing more serious. Her face shifted ever so slightly, indicating with only the slightest of changes of what she was conveying beyond her words. Samir let out a nervous gulp and began to reluctantly make his way to the kitchen. Vance shifted where he sat with a cocked eyebrow: "Was that necessary?"

"Sometimes, you have to make the push to get people to do what you want." the ghost stated nonchalently. She then signalled to Lana quietly: Get ready to follow my lead.

Breadman

 

[Breadman]

Get ready to follow my lead.

Lana nodded. What exactly she would have to do, she could only guess given Natasha's work so far. Pressing civilians for information and doing what you want isn't anything new or foreign to the mercenary. Its a common thing to do. For Lana however, she preffered to save it for the people that stand in her way and pose a danger, but thats not always a choice she can make. Could have made the wait a little bit more tollerable for them at least. Would it really have been a problem to get something to eat or drink? The rations she was living off of for the past few weeks have been lacking any kind of spice and its not like the cafeteerie on the ship had anything resembling civilian food in terms of taste.

She looked again to Vance and motioned to him 'Would have preferred the wine to interrogation. Been stuck for months only drinking that Sirveca beer or the Vochi milk that gets shipped everywhere.' She made an unusual hand motion 'Tastes like the worst shit you've ever smelled.'

 

[joshuadim]

Vance let out a chuckle as Lana made her complaint known to him. He signalled to her quietly: Maybe you just don't have the taste for beer? he asked jokingly, I don't either. Can't get drunk even if I tried. Though, the same was true for all intoxicating substances as his body's metabolism did the work of processing those kinds of things on overdrive. He turned his head back to see if anything had come of Samir's retreat to the kitchen, but thus far the coast was clear. He was growing anxious as he shifted in his seat, and Natasha took notice as she wordlessly cocked and eyebrow. "Don't like it when things take long." Vance muttered as a half-hearted explanation to the ghost. "Every second is time for them to get the upper hand."

"Sure, but do try to look more composed." Natasha commented, "We're supposed to be on 'business'. Can't have my number two be jumpy like a rabbit."

Vance smirked at the comment and leaned back where he sat, "Oh, we're establishing that you're number one now?"

Natasha rolled her eyes, partly out of annoyance and the rest from amusement. "Between a man a few centuries late to the party and our mute friend, I'm best equipped to be the talker here."

"Well now, who said an old dog couldn't learn new tricks?" Vance suggested, but brought out a bemused chuckle from the ghost.

"Old? You don't look older than 30."

The kitchen doors then swung open harshly, with a pair of hard-looking gangsters stepping out to scan the area. Another man followed suit just behind them, clearly the boss as he had a pearl-gripped pistol holstered in his pants, and turned his head to where the trio sat. The two goons flanked the half-circle booth's exits, one standing right next to Vance and the other right next to Lana, which left Natasha sitting at the table's head the see the leader stroll up. He was visibly annoyed by all this and wiped his upper lip with his thumb with a quick flick, "Who the fuck are you?" he asked with a furrowed brow.

"A potential business partner." Natasha said, leaning into the fabrics of her seat that supported her back. Her entire demeanour had shifted as though she had practically slid into a new skin without a problem. What was sitting there wasn't an ODI ghost, but rather what was being portrayed: a shady businesswoman with outer colonial dealings. "We were told we could do business in our line of work with you. Of course unless, that is, we heard wrong?"

The man narrowed his eyes and let out a snort. "And who told you that?"

"That is not important. What is important is for me to determine whether or not we can actually conduct business."

This made the man dart his eyes first to Vance and then to Lana as he visibly wondered what to actually do here. His goons were obviously ready to start throwing punches, but they shifted to a less aggressive posturing when the man put his hands on the table and leaned forward. "Let me guess... you some corpo broker? Or a Sol bureaucrat? Why would you need me to run some guns?"

"Actually," Natasha then said with a sly smile as she leaned forward, "I was thinking of another kind of business." Before the man could react, a blade sank into the center of his hand and crunched through the wood below. Almost immediately Vance sprung into action and grabbed the goon next to him by the throat, lifting the goon into the air with ease as he struggled in vain to remove the grip on his windpipe. The other goon next to Lana was taken aback by the speed of what had just happened, and sputtered when he saw Natasha's blade in his boss' hand as he cried out in pain. He quickly fumbled into his back pocket to reach for something!

Breadman

 

[Breadman]

'Poor you.' Lana responded as Vance mentioned his inability to get drunk. She straightened up as soon as the head goon appeared. Natasha wanted to put up a front of seriousness for these losers. The underling next to her tried to look imposing and scary. She looked to him for a brief few seconds and saw that he looked serious, but behind those cheap five credit pair of sunglasses there was nothing to worry her.

Natasha gave the signal and as the boss struggled with the knife embedded in his hand, Vance dispatched the goon next to him. Disapointingly, the one next to Lana just stood there frozen in place. 'Come on man. Now's the time to prove your worth.' She got up from her seat and grabbed him by the hand, pirueted in place and started to twist. His whinny grunt was enough to let her know she twisted the wrist correctly. He started moving trying to untangle the knot she was tying only for her to calmly move along and keep the pressure on. One more turn and now the arm was behind his back and pointed towards his neck. Something popped. The man who was a full head taller than her was bent over on his knees face down on the ground practically crying. One more move and the entire arm goes.

 

[joshuadim]

"W-what the FUCK!?" the gang boss shouted in pain, eyes bulging towards the knife jutting out of his hand. He gripped at his wrist in some vain attempt to stem the tide of agony, but it was fruitless as Natasha twisted the knife and drew more blood. By now the entire restaurant had grown quiet as the civilians nearby looked on with concern; the nearby tables quickly emptied to get away from whatever was transpiring. Natasha clicked her tongue as the main looked down to his weapon. "Don't. Unless you want to keep your hand." she said, her words as cold as ice. Vance continued to grip the man he was holding, not allowing him any room to manuever but not tight enough to crush his throat. The goon was thrashing in place and punched at Vance's forearm, only to be met with a narrowed gaze.

"I want information." Natasha then spoke to the gang boss, "And it better be accurate."

A few of the civilians nearby pulled out their holo-phones and started to record the events, which made Vance a bit worried. "Uh, Mooles? Civvies are taking glamour pics of us." he muttered into his earpiece.

"Don't worry, I'll have the Modus wipe their data off the network. It'll be like you've never been there." Mooles responded, "Keep the interrogation going."

The man that was at Natasha's mercy blew his lips, a bit of spit flying out onto the table below as he cringed from the pain. "F-fuck... you fucking psycho... w-what do you want to know!?"

"There's an ODI fugitive running around, his trail leads here. Goes by the name of Kane, heard of him?" Natasha then spoke, keeping her gaze levelled on the man. He gritted his teeth in response, and glared at Natasha. "I ain't no fuckin' rat-" he started to say, before wincing again from the pain as Natasha twisted the knife further.

"Really? You're gonna pull this shtick now?" Natasha replied, seemingly bored of the conversation. "You lowlifes will do anything to save your own skin when it comes down to it." The man was silent for a moment, maintaining his composure for a moment until Natasha twisted the knife just a bit further to finally break his resolve. "F-fuck! Alright! Shit!" he said, clamping his eyes shut as if he was embarrassed of all this. "I don't know about Kane myself... I just know he's the new cat in the town. Real serious type... he don't deal with the likes of me!"

"Then who?" the ODI ghost practically hissed, which made the man wince.

"There's a shadow broker... at the Ivory Forum! We call him 'The Rhino'... that's who he's been dealing with, I swear!"

"Think he's telling the truth?" Vance asked Natasha, playing along with the scene. "Maybe we ought to cut off a finger just to make sure his memory is fine."

"I swear! I swear I'm telling you the truth!" the gang boss repeated, "Please! Fuck!"

"Law enforcement databases do have this 'Rhino' character on record, but not for any sort of charges. Seems to be some figure in the underbelly just out of reach, makes himself well hidden and separated from any doings." Mooles then chimed into the trio's earpieces, "Good work." But before Vance could say anything, Mooles spoke up again: "And don't say 'I told you so' or I'll sock you one myself." The line crackled to an end, which left them dealing with the three gangster in their grasp. Wordlessly, Natasha pulled out the knife from the man's hand before slamming his head into the table to knock him out. Vance did the same with the goon in his grasp with a quick jab to face, before allowing him to fall over.

"Alright, we got what we needed. Let's boogie." Vance said to Natasha and Lana.

"Sometimes I forget just how ancient you are." the ODI ghost commented with some snark before getting out of the booth. "Wrap this up Lana, we got a Rhino to hunt."

Breadman

 

[Breadman]

Alright, we got what we needed. Let's boogie.

Lana maintained her grip on the stooge as she looked at Vance slightly confused. 'What the hell is boogy? Does Sasha know what that is? Why?'

"Can you let me go, please?" The stooge whimpered. Lana looked down and released her grip. The man got up on his feet as she fixed her tie and picked up the briefcase that was left next to her chair. 'He's not dumb enough...' she thought as she noticed him moving "Yeah you better go! Don't let me catch you around here again." Lana stopped in her tracks. '...he was'. "Fuck off you bitch, you and your fucked friends!" As much as she wanted to ignore him and get on with the mission, certain types needed to be taught a lesson in manners.

Lana turned around to face him and he let out a gasp. The mercenary got closer and to his credit, he took the initiative to try and strike first. His fist however was met with the metal fram of the briefcase. He let out a pained yelp as he held his hand from the pain. Lana lowered the case and had the look of annoyance on her face. She really didn't want to dirty this thing just yet. She swung it like a weapon and smashed it right in his face. The force send blood, shards of glass from cheap sunglasses and teeth in the air. The mercenary inspected the briefcase and noticed that there were no dents on it. Only a few stains of blood. She reached for a papper towel from the table and cleaned out what she could.

"My fughing nose...you bitch..." This guy keeps whinning. Lana looked down on him as he tried to get up. She rolled her eyes and sighed. 'Just stay down.' She could see why this guy was hired. He could take some hits. Complete whimp against any holds though. She stepped back and waited until his head was just in the right position. 'One...two..' She moved again and punted him right in the temple. His head snapped forward and he was down and out.

Lana fixed her tie and walked to the exit in order to catch up with Vance and Natasha. Any damage to her pantleg she'd have to pretend wasn't there.