Swallowing the Sun (FT|Closed)

[Rethan]

Swallowing the Sun

THERE IS LAW. THERE IS INTRUSION. THERE IS NOT A CRIMINAL.

---

I write this under no small amount of duress. Even now I can feel the cold festering in my chest and behind my eyes, and these damned stars have already stolen from me the greater part of my sight. The swim in my vision, and I must write this transmission before they return. I have sent out one already, yet have heard nothing. Now my voice is gone, I must type my desperation. Should this fail, then…. I must not entertain that possibility.

My home has fallen to Law. Everyone sleeps, and I can feel lethargy clinging to my every breath. Everything the light touches is drowned with the colour of fatigue. That dead, lifeless light. I think I might be the last, not that I could find out. The surface is saturated in silence, and I can not contact anyone who might be awake. Perhaps someone will find this, perhaps this transmission will get through and they can find us and perhaps there will be something left to find.

I don’t know why I’ve lasted so long. Three weeks I have been plagued with these scars and sores, but I haven’t died. Perhaps the Law does not want to touch me. Maybe it can’t. All I can say for certain is that I will not last much longer. My head hurts. No message undelivered, I am not a criminal. The Eaters are coming and I have to try and focus but there’s nothing I can think to say. I have to say something, but I don’t know what. Please find us, avenge us, this isn’t fair and it all must be made fair. And equal. Balanced.

Yes. Balanced and equal and fair.

Bury the Law for us. Bury it as was buried so that we may devour as was devoured. Make it all fair.

---

There is, at the centre of a barren field, a towering spire of something that might be stone. It is almost black and reaches up to a sky that might be green, if one was to avoid looking too closely. A thousand sigils twist and burn with furious light, scorching the lifeless, frozen rock all around the spire. The fury of the sigils and their meaning threatens to ravage the earth surrounding the spire - rock itself ignites with cold fire, turning not to ash but to shards of ice that are blown away by the light of the sigils. There is a constant, unending storm of obliterated rock, burned to ice, blown away from the spire but the ground never seems to fall any lower. Each gouge, each hole is filled with oil and when the sigil that lights it fades - however momentarily - the oil hardens and the rock returns. In time, the sigil ignites again and the cycle - an endless cycle of detritus and cold - begins again.

On the horizon, the anger of another spire lights the dark sky like a malicious, impossibly coloured star. They are in sync, one fading as the other grows brighter, one field of desolate rock safe from the madness of the message while the other must bear the words. Yet despite all this, the world is silent. The cracking rocks make no noise, the dispersed frost does not scratch, the wind does not whistle nor howl. But these spires are the only light, the only colour on all this world save the undefinable colour of the sky.

There is a sun, but it does not burn. It watches.

---

There was a sudden surge of pain, deep and powerful in Olem’s gut, forcing the old man to double over. He hacked, blood thick with sickness, black with rotted flesh spattered the ground. Some splashed onto his shoes, the glossy white already soiled with streaks of red and clumps of clotted blood. Olem clutched his stomach, dragging his feet along the ground as he fought to steady himself and reaching out with his free hand to steady himself on the wall. He misjudged the weight he put behind the movement and screamed as white hot pain dropped him to his knees, where a rush of nausea overwhelmed him and a torrent of half-clotted blood mixed with the black bile of infection rushed out to saturate his trouser legs. He heaved, he coughed, he vomited once, twice and then leaned his head against the wall out of breath cradling his right hand. Smears of blood and decayed, dead skin stood stark against the cream colour of the wall where his skin had sloughed off. The sight of his fingers, the tips raw and exposed, almost sent him into another round of hideous nausea.

Somewhere far behind him he could hear a woman whimpering in the dark. She sounded young, too young to be in here and certainly too young to be sharing Olem’s fate. Even if he’d had the strength to find her, he would not have put himself at risk. There was nothing to say the noises were genuine, that there was even anyone there to save. He hauled himself to his feet, using his left hand - less ravaged by contagion - to pull himself up the wall. Fluids dripped from his knees, each impact against the ground loud, thick, insidious. He took a tentative step and found there was strength left in his legs. With a quiet chuckle to himself, hoarse and muffled as blood frothed in his throat, he hurried onwards. Round the corner, another few feet past that and he’d be home free. His office was waiting for him. He looked back when the woman whimpered again, somewhere past the reach of the sterile laboratory light.

It never occurred to him to wonder where the pools and drops of blood and virus, the testimony of his decay, had gone.

He almost made it to his office without another attack, but bare inches from the door he was forced to his knees and unleashed another torrent of black vomit onto the floor. It exhausted him, left him weeping tears thick with crystallised virus - so thick and bitter that they scratched his eyes as he wept. Olem reach out a shaky, feeble hand and collapsed against the door, falling through to the soft carpet of his office. He crawled in, dragging himself along the floor and kicking the door shut behind him before propping himself up against the wall just inside the entrance. The rough texture of the carpet was impossibly hot, he could actually feel it burning against the palms of his hands. Tiny strand of hair broke loose from his scalp and fell, drifting slowly down. He couldn’t figure out of that was a sign of age or another symptom.
Probably both.

God he was tired, and the wall was cool against the back of his head. He look up at the walls, at the hundreds of pictures and maps and notes taped to every surface. He’d never had time to burn it all, though he doubted anyone would find it now so perhaps it didn’t matter. Somewhere in among that mess of exploration and translation he’d hoped to change the world.

“I suppose I did.”

A small, black star drifted across his field of view and washed the colour from the world. He watched, mesmerised as the room started to turn a beautiful, calming world of grey. The first star split and became two in a dance of fractal, stunning beauty. He thought, for a moment, that he could see them start to grow larger as the swam in front of his eyes, that they were dancing with one another as exhaustion closed his eyes and drowned his mind.

[Neornith]

I do this now at the end because it seems the best thing I can do, the correct thing to do because of my actions. I never meant for any of this to happen, my intentions were never nefarious nor were the malicious in nature, I know the humans are fond of the saying “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” I never fully understood why they said such a thing until now. My only goal in this whole endeavor was to seek knowledge, knowledge that we had stolen from ourselves during the Consortium’s creation. We never really fully understood where we came from, only that we were created for some purpose, some intention we never really knew. When given the chance to find out more of our origins that had been lost I naturally seized the chance, I know wish I hadn’t done so. When we were younger, before we ascended to the stars we were a peaceful people that helped each other, the common goal was that everything remain balanced. Darkness however came over the hearts of those that were too protect us and when given the chance they subjugated those that were not capable of fighting. Centuries we toiled under their rule, they proclaiming their rule through might, and the rest of us were too weak too argue otherwise. During this time we languished under their rule until a someone who to this day is still unknown lit a spark in us, slowly the spark grew into a flame, and eventually the fires of revolution spread across the planet and we rose up against those that oppressed us. For years the battles raged back and forth, our homeworld still bears the scars from those times, even after all these centuries. The Warrior Houses knew if they continued the fight all would be lost, they would win but in doing so they would be severely diminished in their capabilities, a compromise was struck between the Warrior Houses and us. In the end it was decided that everyone would rule as things were before the Warrior Houses seized control, we would return to the time when all were fair... and equal.

**********************************************

Swenton of House Rufesc was generally considered obsessed by the other members of his House. It was rumored, and rightfully so that he would to whatever lengths necessary in his quest for knowledge. No back alley deal was to dangerous, nor were there any shortcuts not worth not attempting in his eyes.

And now here he was at Port Expedition, at the Consortium’s space station Wiisnor in the Liu Xiu Special Economic Zone. The station was originally intended as a means for the Consortium to become more involved with other nations, and in that purpose it served quite well. Over time though the black market that was notorious in Avlana eventually set up shop in Wiisnor as well, and it thrived quite nicely there.

It was here and why the Swenton moved silently through the corridors that had been opened up to resemble streets and shops much like the sky cities back home in Nerreda. The ceilings were high and painted with a nanite paint simulated the sky during the day and the night. During the nighttime was when Swenton moved through, he was always careful in his dealings, not wanting any of his rivals to steal his discoveries from him, his two meter tall skinny figure moved with grace and stealth, his long neck craning about as he quietly observed behind him to ensure he didn’t have a tail following him. He pulled his dark brown cloak over his body so that only the rusty red feathers of his neck and head were visible.

He stopped at one of the shops that had an access “alley” to the rear of the shop where deliveries were made. Swenton felt the same little thrill he always had when he did these little cloak and dagger type of meetings. He could have just as easily met his contact elsewhere and accomplished the same thing, but meeting in the shadows was always something Swenton considered fun. Once he was fully enveloped in the shadows, Swenton paused for a few moments and let his eyes adjust to the darkness, after several seconds he could see again and he made his way to the spot he indicated he wanted to meet to the person that had gotten ahold of him. Once there he looked around for whomever it was that had summoned him and waited for them to show themselves.

[Rethan]

Wiisnor

Liu Xiu could have been interesting, a long time ago perhaps. But six years travelling the galaxy, making shady backroom deals or investigating some new business ventures had long since inured Isaac to the excitement of alien cultures. The seedy alleys of Wiisnor were interesting only by virtue of his reason for being there, and the significant payment forthcoming from his employer. He kept to himself, clicking a dried up pen against his belt buckle as scores of people brushed past him. He sank back into the wall, making himself as small as possible and pulling his scarf up over his mouth and nose - more to keep out the smell of alien life than out of any desire to stay hidden. Feathered aliens always had a musk which particularly assaulted Isaac's sense of smell, though not a particularly unpleasant one. It made it incredibly difficult to smell anything else, however, making the air seem thick and suffocating. For one reason or another, he found it hard to breathe around avian xenos. Perhaps he had an allergy.

A tap at his waist drew his attention down to his companion, her frail figure slumped against the wall. People walked around her or over her while she tousled what little hair she had with one gloved finger. Naomi looked up at him expectantly, frustration lining her face. Isaac tapped a single finger to his lips and turned back to look at the crowd as she pushed herself upright, dragging her clothes against the wall.

"You will dirty your clothes."

"Yup. Fortunately, it's your job to look professional. How's your suit holding up?"

Isaac sighed, scanning the alleyway for their mark. "It's hardly a suit."

"Trousers and a shirt make a suit in my books. How do you even carry anything with only two pockets?"

Isaac ignored his companion, watching as a cloaked figure walked into view. Rust tinted feathers, and a furtive look about him - this was the xenos they were looking for. Isaac pushed forward, trusting Naomi to follow close behind. She lagged for a moment, adjusting her jacket and making a vain attempt to straighten her auburn hair before following a few paces behind. Isaac reached the alien first, lowering his scarf so he could speak freely. His eyes were curiously grey, almost invisible in the darkness of the alley, but behind the colourless front they whirred into life to boost what little light there was to more useful levels. A flash of text across his vision, a message from Naomi, informing him that their mark was not armed but she was prepared to engage him nevertheless. As far as she could tell. Isaac was certain her preparedness would not be needed, but Perrier did not like leaving such things unaccounted for. Unaware of the customary greeting for this particular species, Isaac simply bowed when he drew close.

"Swenton, am I right? I am Isaac Cratchley and this is Naomi Hostadt," Naomi gave a small wave, standing two metres behind Isaac. Her hands were at her side, but hovered just clear of her waist, primed. "We are here on behalf of Mister Perrier, whom I believe contacted you? Would you mind, for completeness sake, telling us what exactly you expect from him?"

[Neornith]

Swenton stopped and took a moment to fully observe the the human in front of him. Swenton had always had a casual mistrust of humanity, they were erratic and impulsive beasts, no two were ever alike, something humanity prided itself on, being “unique”. Such a trait was annoying to Swenton who was used to dealing with Avans, for instance, when he dealt with a member of the Warriors Houses, he could be assured they were generally honorable, their word was their bond, conversely dealing with a member of the Merchant House, Swenton knew he needed to be cautious and careful when dealing with them as they were apt to put their wants and needs before anyone else’s.

Swenton looked the man up and down, he seemed clean enough but an aura of weariness seemed to hang about the man, as if the years had taken a toll on his soul but left his body unsacthed. The Avan’s gaze glanced over towards the girl that seemed to stand at the ready behind this Issac, she appeared tense and at the ready, Swenton wondered if the woman was Issac’s bodyguard. He found this curious due to the woman’s small frame and fragile appearance, likely she was armed to the beak under her clothes.

“Your employer has informed me that he has information that I desire, for sometime I’ve been searching for...something, and your Mr. Perrier has indicated to me that he can help me find that which am searching for.” stated Swenton “If you have that which I seek, I will pay quite handsomely for it, after I’ve verified that the information is that which I seek

Swenton knew that last part would likely provoke a response from the man. It was always a tense and dangerous dance when one dealt with these sorts of people. On the one hand he didn’t want to fully pay for something that was false and have no recourse of retrieving his payment from someone that would likely disappear after Swenton was done with him. Likewise the man would be foolish to give the information to Swenton and trust him to honor the debt. A balance would need to be struck between the two. A compromise that both would be equally happy with, or at the very least not completely pissed over.

[Rethan]

"Your employer has informed me that he has information that I desire, for sometime I’ve been searching for...something, and your Mr. Perrier has indicated to me that he can help me find that which am searching for. If you have that which I seek, I will pay quite handsomely for it, after I’ve verified that the information is that which I seek."

Isaac nodded, his face passive. No new information there, but he hadn't expected the bird to open up right away. A set of symbols blinked into existence in the corner of his vision which he dismissed with a blink - Naomi was trying to backseat drive as usual. Isaac crossed his arms, looking Swenton up and down and breathing slowly, measuring his response. He wondered how much of that 'handsome pay' he would receive directly and how much would sink into Perrier's bottomless coffers. He almost certainly wouldn't get a fair deal out of it all, but he was bound to get a better deal than working any other job for any other employer.

"Right then. I don't know what Perrier hopes to show you, and frankly I don't want to. I can do my job just fine without getting curious. We've two ways we can do this. One, you have a ship of your own and we take that to the co-ordinates I've got-" Isaac tapped the side of his head, "-locked away. Two, you come with us in ours - which I can guarantee is better equipped for the task ahead. I don't know how long this little escapade is bound to take, but I get paid the same either way and if it's going to take longer than a week I'd rather fly in comfort."

"Provided, of course, at our employers expense," quipped Naomi. Isaac glanced over his shoulder, giving her a quick smile. She'd relaxed her stance, apparently content at the bird's peaceful - if not outright dull - intentions.

"Of course. Saves you on fuel costs at the very least." Isaac looked back at Swenton, tapping one finger heavily on his jacket arm. It was true, their craft probably was more comfortable than anything a tomb raider could afford and Perrier would undoubtedly have made sure it was well suited to whatever tasks he expected them to be undergoing. Isaac simply wondered if he'd be cleaning feathers out of air ducts for months afterwards. Did birds shed, or was that just foxes? Naomi slid up beside him, brushing close as she rested her head on his shoulder. He could almost hear the circuitry whirring in her skull, and he could definitely hear the metallic twang in her throat as she spoke.

"So what say you, oh brave and noble historian? Shall we find somewhere to grab a drink and hash out the details, because I am thirsty as fuck, or do you just want to get underway and wing it as we go."

[Neornith]

Swenton’s eyes studied Isaac up and down. THe man was right though, if they did take his ship it would certainly save on costs for himself. However if the man wasn’t to be trusted he could simply strand Swenton in some hole on the far side of the galaxy just as easily.

The money savings would be well worth it though, he could easily repurpose the money for other equipment or whatever else he might need. His talon clicked on the metal floor as he contemplated the options set before him.

“Very well then, I’ll take you up on your offer and travel with you. However I have a few companions that are going to accompany us, if you wouldn’t mind I would like to retrieve them as well as my traveling gear and then we can be on our way.” Swenton said to Isaac.

The Avan’s mind wandered as he turned about and motioned for Isaac to follow him, he hoped this wasn’t another wild chase into the stars. Too many times he had felt that which he sought was within his grasp, only to have it snatched away from him when he was so close. This time though would be different, this time he knew he would succeed, a little voice in the back of his mind screamed at him to stop,but like every other time Swenton ignored the voice as he walked back towards the main street without looking back to see if either Isaac or Naomi were following him.

[Rethan]

OOC: Apologies for the brevity and low quality. I am moving and will not have my PC after this coming Thursday. Might not be able to access it until September in the worst case scenario. I'd rather you have something instead of nothing for a month.

Isaac hadn't been informed of any friends Swenton would be bringing. By the colourful language decorating his view he could tell Naomi was just as out of the loop as he was. He pressed a hand to her shoulder and squeezed until she relaxed, the muscles in her arms losing their tension and the rapid murmurings of her cybernetics ceased beneath her skin.

>CALM DOWN<

He let the words slide through their connection and imprint themselves on her vision before pulling away to follow Swenton. Naomi waited three seconds then fell in behind, close enough to provide assistance if needed but far enough away to avoid any trap Isaac was likely to trigger. Isaac paid no heed as she clumsily pushed pedestrians out of her way, sliding between individuals quietly and without drawing attention until he had managed to catch up to Swenton. He glanced, out of the corner of his eye, at the avian alien as it walked. The clacking of its talons rang harsh in his ears next to the soft, cushioned footfalls of his own boots.

"How many 'friends' are you bringing? They may need to share living quarters or sleep in the halls if there are many of them."

[Neornith]

“Have no worries Mr.Isaac there are only three others I wish too have accompany us, and I suppose ‘friends’ is a bit of a misnomer, they are more business associates then anything.” Swenton tried to explain to the humans that seemed ever so slightly agitated suddenly “Generally when I go on an endeavor such as this I prefer too hire certain individuals with a particular set of skills.”

Carefully they wound their way through the streets of Wiisnor and slowly it became apparent that they were descending into a more unsavory part of the station. While the buildings were still kept in reasonably good shape the local characters seemed to skulk about the shadows or gaze upon the small party with predatory gazes.

“As long as you stay with me they won’t lay a feather on you.” Swenton assured the two humans “Most of the locals here are un-Housed Avans, ostracized for various crimes and stripped of their House names, if they were to harm another Avan that was still housed the punishments againt them would be swift and brutal, and here we are.”

Swenton stopped in front of building that looked like the others, its only unique feature was a sign above the door. The Dirty Canary is was called, an establishment of a less than stellar reputation it was one the main watering holes for ostracized Avans to congregate at to drown their sorrows at.

Opening the door Swenton led the humans inside the bar and ppaused for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the light inside, looking around he spotted a trio of Avans sitting off in the corner by themselves. The low murmur began to get quieter as more of the bar’s patrons took notice of the newcomers and many openly stared at them as they picked their way through the bar towards the corner table.

Approaching the table Swenton reached inside his cloak and pulled a simple plastic card from an inside and he set it down on the table.

“As agreed half payment now and half later.” Swenton said as he looked the three Avan mercs over. It was a trio he had worked with in the past several times and he found them to be more reliable than most. To the humans each Avan would seem similar looking, raptor like heads with thick cloaks pulled over their bodies.

“Excellent Swenton, it is good to be doing business with you again, what time do we depart.” said the obvious leader of the group as he palmed the plastic card and slid it inside his cloak.

“I suppose that depends on my associate Mr.Isaac here.” Swenton said as he turned towards the man with a questioning look.

[Rethan]

Isaac took a brief look around the... 'establishment' as Swenton paid the mercenaries. Anyone hired in a place like this was undoubtedly going to be someone Isaac found difficult to get along with, but thankfully he could use Naomi as a buffer. Her poor bedside manner was likely to draw any unwanted attention her way instead of his. He glanced over at her as she tried desperately not to let any piece of the decor touch her and smiled for a faint moment.

"We can leave right now. In fact, I think that would be preferable. Mister Perrier is patient, but usually is happier when his tasks are completed ahead of schedule."

Isaac waited to make sure Swenton and his hired goons were ready, letting them gather whatever equipment they happened to need, before grabbing Naomi by the elbow and leading the way back out of the Dirty Canary. He remembered, with little effort, the way back through the twisting, decrepit parts of the station. Every so often Naomi would ping him to let him know they hadn't lost their passengers, a fact which sped their journey a great deal. It was a relief not to have to pause and glance back behind himself. He didn't speak - public relations was hardly his most valuable skill - and stopped only when they had reached the dock, at the base of a small elevator that ascended into the underside of his craft. His ship, save the small panels of light in the elevator's cabling, was cloaked in darkness - its surface seemed to roil like ink, a deep blue the only visible colour as it caught the light from the elevator.

Naomi entered the elevator first, and Isaac waited for the others to follow her in before taking his place in the cramped room. A click, a droning whir, and the door behind him slid shut. For a moment the room pressurised itself and Isaac could feel his ears pop as the pressure lessened. As the hissing of escaping air subsided, the door slid open again to reveal the inner parts of his ship. Lights built into the floor flickered into life to illuminate a clean, if cramped, barracks. A makeshift bed had been assembled for Swenton - they had not been expecting anyone else - while Naomi's and Isaac's own cots were hidden in recesses in the wall to allow for some privacy with the simple closing of a hatch.

"Naomi and I can sleep on the bridge. Find room for yourselves. This room is free for you, but do not venture anywhere else. There is nothing outside of this room that isn't critical for the ship and I would rather you not touch anything."

Isaac made his way through the room, watching as Naomi collapsed into a nearby seat, and made to climb a ladder at the far end.

"I'll join you in the spine once this lot are comfy. You get her revved," called Naomi as Isaac vanished into the ceiling. She grinned and looked at Swenton's group, "Plus this is the only spot on the ship with artgrav. So it's the comfiest spot going. Anything y'all need?"

[Neornith]

The three mercs merely each grabbed two bags that were near the table and stood up indicating they were ready to leave as soon as the human was. Swenton for his part only had a small satchel, not really needing anything else for the journey. All four Avan quickly and quietly followed the two humans back through the space station towards the shuttle ports where incoming and departing small craft and passenger shuttles were docked.

Sinder the leader of the small merc group took the time to study the two humans as they made their way through Wiisnor, the man seemed annoyed by the fact that Swenton had hired them, but he also seemed cold and calculating, the fact he could find his way back through the station easily without one Avan leading was also peculiar. Sinder figured some sort of mental augmentation was likely involved or just as likely the humans weren’t actually humans and only looked like them. The latter theory disturbed Sinder slightly as deception was never really something he could fully stomach. The woman however was certainly combat trained in some manner Sinder deduced, her steps seemed calculated and planned. Her movements appeared graceful yet deadly.

After several minutes of winding through the station they arrived in Wissnor’s small spaceport. Approaching one ship in particular, each merc hesitated slightly at those close confines of the elevator, especially with someone they didn’t fully trust. Upon entering the carriage each merc pressed their body up against the wall with their front facing the two human. Hands under the heavy cloaks and out of view instinctively caressed blade hilts and pistol grips. Swenton however seemed oblivious to everything, lost in his own thoughts of grandeur.

A quick look around once they were outside the elevator showed the humans had tried being courteous by making a bed for what they assumed would be their only guest. Sinder’s eyes carefully scanned the rest of the room as he listened to Isaac chided them to not leave the little room.

"Plus this is the only spot on the ship with artgrav. So it's the comfiest spot going. Anything y'all need?"came the question from the human female. Sinder and his two compatriots remained quiet and deferred to Swenton who finally was snapped out of his daydreams by the question.

“No I think we’ll be quite alright Miss Naomi, the bed isn’t really required though, we Avan sleep standing up by I appreciate the thought.” Swenton replied.

[Rethan]

TRAVEL TIME: 93 GalStandard hours
LOCATION: [REDACTED], Quadrant Designation DELTA

The trip had been a long once, if not a pleasant one. The dual structure of Isaac's ship had done an amicable job of keeping the guests separate from the hosts, helping to ease any awkward tensions, but it had not done a perfect job. Barely a day's worth of travel into the journey and Naomi had begun her usual bemoaning the lack of artificial gravity. The Spine - the central structure of the ship around which everything else was built - lacked the luxury of simulated gravity, and while Isaac was more at home in freefall than in a gravity confined environment his co-pilot was not. More than once she had mistimed a jump and collided face first with the wall or edge of a doorway. Isaac, thankfully for the situation, did not typically find such things funny and did not laugh at her misfortune. Their guests, sequestered away in their own small section of the Spiral, had only been bothered on the rare occasions when Isaac sent Naomi into the Spiral to retrieve or take a closer look at something in person. In turn, Isaac and Naomi had only been bothered by their guests on the even rarer occasion they required something that could not be provided by machinery or intercom. Finally, after almost four days in Warp, the ship beeped to alert Isaac that they were arriving at their destination. Once or twice it had alerted him early about a course correction - an unaccounted for stellar object or interdiction field they needed to steer around would occasionally erupt into existence for the fraction of a second it took to fly past. Isaac had barely registered the machine's warning by the time it followed it up with a [SITUATION RESOLVED] alert.

The target system exploded into view as Isaac's ship decelerated. The system's star was far distant, a hazy spot on the viewscreen, sickly green. A hardlight hologram illuminated Isaac's desktop to show the position the system's numerous planetary bodies. Only one sparked his interest, wreathed in ice and furious storms and the outermost of its kind in the system. With a flick of his wrist Isaac selected the planet as the ship's target and felt the shudder as the engines and gyroscopes angled the vessel towards the planet. A dozen overlays lit up his vision, he sidelined all of them to be reviewed at a later time. Only ghostly numbers flickered in the corner of vision: [TARGET ETA, 0.55 GSH]. Isaac glided through the gravity free environment of the Spine and free of his private cabin. As he passed each workstation in the Spine, new lights and words pushed their ways into his sideline, tiny notifications which pushed their way into his mind waiting to be opened into full memories. They could wait, none of them pushed into his visual cortex, none of them were urgent. Naomi was strapped to the side wall of the Spine, mummified in cloth and strappings as she slept.

"Wake up. Get dressed. I'll be in the Spiral."

Isaac slapped the sleeping woman's stomach to jolt her into consciousness. She pulled an arm loose and free of her makeshift bed, flexing her fingers to stretch the muscles, her arm length tattoo pulsing and undulating as she twisted to undo the strap and let herself float, exposed, into the Spine's cramped passageways. She glided over Isaac as he slipped into the ladder tube to the Spiral, yawning as she did so. Isaac sent an interstitial command to the ship, causing a small alarm to be let off in the section of the Spiral where their guests had been living for the past several days. His voice, synthesised by the ship's speakers but sounding wholly natural, sounded throughout the Spiral. His own mouth stayed shut.

"Thirty minutes to destination arrival. I am coming into the Spiral."

He waited a few passing minutes before swiping the door's control to have it slide open and let him into the Spiral. Compared to the low lighting and cramped space of the Spine, the bright white and open areas of the Spiral were an unwelcome change. Isaac paused at the ladder entrance and slowed his breathing, then twisted in place and descended the rest of the way. He let the Spiral's gravity steal away his feet before dropping the rest of the way to the floor.

"Welcome to the target system, designated 'Charnel'. Do you have everything you need?"

[Neornith]

For the most part the trip had been dull for Swenton. He had attempted to make conversation with the mercs he only knew a little about, but their short answers and seemingly gruff responses had quieted the conversation for the most part anyways. Swenton for his part had dove into his tablet full of literature he brought and began making notes in a worn out journal he carried with him constantly. The mercs hardly even talked to each other, they rotated between physical training and maintenance on the arms and equipment they brought with them. Rarely throughout the trip though did they require anything from the ship’s hosts and the humans hardly bothered the avan altogether.

Sleep had been hard to come by for Swenton as well, every time he tried to fall asleep he would was quickly beset by dark images with no tangible form. He knew not what they meant but the feeling from them was ominous. That coupled with the rather cramped conditions had Swenton soon exhausted from the lack of sleep. The mercs for the most part seemed unbothered though by anything and seemed to easily fall asleep. The food was another contention with Swenton, luckily on this front he had planned ahead. Experience had taught him too not count on other species food being compatible with the avan’s unique dietary requirements. The mercs had also seemed too plan for this as well and they constantly procured their own food from their packs. A closer look revealed them to be surplus military rations, something Swenton found odd due to the merc’s ostracized status.

A small chirp from the ship’s intercom cut through the silence in the avan’s room followed shortly by the human male’s voice "Thirty minutes to destination arrival. I am coming into the Spiral."
Swenton hurriedly put away the journal he had been writing in as well as his tablet. All four avan heads snapped towards the door as it opened up and Isaac entered into the Spriral a few minutes after the announcement.

"Welcome to the target system, designated 'Charnel'. Do you have everything you need?" Isaac asked the four avan who had already begun to gather their things.

“I believe we are all ready sir, is there anything special we should know about Charnel before we leave the ship, what I mean is what’s the planet like and are there any dangers we should be aware off?” asked Swenton.

[Rethan]

Isaac settled into a nearby seat, letting the ship's artificial intelligence feed him information on the target planet as it drew closer. He didn't look at Swenton as the avan spoke, keeping his focus on the outer wall of the Spiral. His vision merged with that of the ship's, and he saw their destination hover in the centre of the room, walls of information billowing out from its silhouette. Swenton and the mercenaries were blurry outlines behind the flurry of data.

"Cold. Preliminary results indicate that it is lethally so, average estimation is one twenty kelvin across the majority of the surface. Day-night cycle is one hundred, thirty-two galactic standard hours. The atmosphere is very thin, and consist mostly of hydrogen gas. Certainly not breathable for any entity of your size, even if that was your preferred gas of choice. You will need environmental suits."

There was a flicker of light before a hologram of the world exploded in the centre of the room. The image rotated to show three areas circled in red. "These are the coldest parts of the planet. The ambient temperature is difficult to discern for such a small area, but at our best estimation the area within those circles plummets to as low as thirty kelvin. Atmosphere in the region is nonexistent - something is forming a near perfect vacuum in those regions. Periodic bursts of activity occur once every six and a half galactic standard hours, where the regions flood with gases from the atmosphere around it before suddenly becoming a vacuum another six and a half hours later."

The sphere of Charnel VII unfolded into a flat plain, focused on a single one of these anomalous regions. The image was largely empty except for the overlays of information from the ship's computer.

"The region of the vacuum is roughly conical and extends from six hundred metres into the atmosphere for the shortest of these regions, up to a height of eight kilometres for the tallest. It's our guess there is some kind of structure in each of these regions - we will be focusing on the largest region."

The hatch behind Isaac hissed open and ejected the sweating figure of Naomi. She ruffled her hair as she descended to the ground and readjusted her top, joining Isaac in a seat beside him. She was still cracking the bones in her fingers, but didn't look up. The ship had forwarded all this information directly to her, the briefing was for the avan's benefit. An inconvenience, thought Isaac.

"Naomi will be going planetside with you. I will remain in orbit to monitor any potential deviations from this cycle. The plan is to drop you, and Naomi, one kilometre out from the edge of one of these regions where you can set up a base camp. As soon as the vacuum subsides, you will have six and a half hours to find anything worth finding. The area is a radius about four kilometres in diameter for all the sites regardless of height, so it will not be difficult to explore them. When the time limit is up, you must either find shelter within the region, or return to your basecamp outside of the area."

"Or explode from the sudden drop in pressure," spat Naomi. Isaac winced, but didn't look at her. No sense taking the bait.

"That is unlikely. The standard atmospheric pressure isn't enough to cause a pressure gradient of any strict lethality. But there is a chance whatever field is causing the vacuum might not differentiate between solid matter and the gases in the air. You might be disintegrated alongside the gases. Ideally you will be able to remain planetside and examine as many of the sites as possible to try and find whatever it is you are looking for without any casualties. The environment is harsh, and the curious cycle of these regions is certainly hazardous, but there is nothing actively dangerous about the world."

The hologram extinguished itself and Isaac rose, his seat immediately taken by Naomi's feet as she reclined in her seat. Isaac gave her a quick glance before turning back to the avans, "Do you have any issues with this plan?"

[Neornith]

“No I don’t see any issues with that, are there any issues you forsee with the plan?” Swenton asked his three companions. Silent nods were the only answer Swenton received from the three mercenaries.

“Well then I suppose we should be getting ready.” Swenton said as he began to dig into his pack. Searching for several seconds he finally pulled out a rather unusual gray suit .

“I rather despise wearing these things” grumbled Swenton as he carefully covered his talons with the bottom of the suit on both feet, being delicate in the process so as to now tear anything, folding his wings flat against his back he pulled the suit over his shoulders and slipped it over his hands and the hood over his head. As he pulled the hood on the seam on the front of the suit seemed to melt together as Swenton adjusted the hood. Once that was done he pulled a mask out of his pack that would cover his rather long beak and delicately fit it over his face until the seal on the mask mated up with the rest of the suit, seconds later the mask sealed itself to the suit until there was no way to tell where the mask stopped and the suit began.

Moments after the mask sealed onto the suit the suit shimmered and seemed to grow bulkier and the exterior grew into a more leather looking material than the lighter silk appearance it had moments ago.

Seeing this the merc quietly removed their heavy cloaks to reveal what looked like scaled armor that covered their bodies from the head down to their talons. Each merc reached down into their pack and pulled out a mask as well. As before with Swenton’s they held the armor mask to their faces and the mask and armored suit seemed the meld together.

Each Avan stood still for several moments silently as their suits ran through an assortment of safety checks to ensure the environmental features were functioning properly.

Swenton for his part tried to remain calm, he was always a mixture of anxious and nervous right before he was actually going to get talons on the ground, looking at the mercenaries however provided him a small measure of relief, he had paid them good money and the promise of more when he made it back alive was his only insurance the mercs wouldn’t abandon him. Looking at the mercenaries Swenton couldn’t help but wonder what life choices they had made that had led them to be ostracized from their Houses. Swenton shivered a little at the thought of being ostracized, the Avan Houses were more or less large family communities, to be suddenly kicked out from that community would be shocking, rarely did it occur amongst the other Houses but it was known to happen. Most of the houseless Avan were former Warrior Houses members, with no way to support themselves they almost always turned to mercenary work to feed themselves and barely scrape by.

With another shiver Swenton turned towards his host and cleared his throat as he adjusted to the feeling of the mask on his face.

“I do believe we are ready for departure sir.”

[Rethan]

Charnel

Only the most subtle of turbulence heralded the ship's approach into Charnel VII's atmosphere, but it was enough to litter Isaac's eyes with warnings and requests for input. He nodded as Swenton responded, clasping a hand on Naomi's shoulder before making his way - quickly and quietly - out of the Spiral and out of sight. Naomi chuckled as he did so.

"Touchdown in five-oh seconds. Make your way to the aperture," Naomi called. She chose to lead the way, waiting until all the passengers were within the airlock to seal the door behind them. Naomi took a helmet from the wall and clamped it down onto her neck, waiting for the suit's software to confirm the seal was complete. Just as she did so, the ship rocked as it settled onto the surface of the planet - readouts of the atmospheric temperature and contents blinked into existence on the inside of her helmet's visor. She took a moment to dismiss them before raising five fingers into the air and counting down. As she closed her hand into a fist, there was a roaring sound as the airlock quickly depressurised to match the world outside.

"Alright kids. Let's go 'sploring." With a low whine, the outer door wheeled open to unveil a world of utter darkness.

The quiet was unimaginable, as though the whole world was smothered. Even the sound of Isaac's ship's engines, which should have been a distinct crackling sound at this distance, were completely inaudible. In all her travels, Naomi had never heard such indomitable silence. She could hear every click, every whirring motor and generator in her suit. If she tried hard enough, she could even hear her own heart rhythmically drumming away in her chest. Her footfalls, metal on metal, barely whispered to her - even the droning klaxon which warned that the outer door was open was muffled, its own sound stolen away by Charnel's stillness. There was no wind, no movement on the dead world. This far from the local sun, that was to be somewhat expected - no heat source meant no temperature gradient, which meant no strong winds. But this...this was beyond even what she had expected. Her foot slid as it touched the planet's surface, threatening to knock her off balance before the suit adjusted and provided enough grip to walk. Naomi knelt down and rubbed her hand against the ground, finding it remarkably smooth - acres of polished ice in every direction out from the ship, right up to the horizon.

In the distance, stabbing up towards the sky, was a massive spire made of obsidian and fire. It was taller than any structure had a right to be, and where the flat black surface of the Spike could be seen it looked to Naomi as though something had carefully carved a hole in the world. Only the lines and patterns of bright, marine coloured light give any definition to the Spike, but as furiously bright as they seem they illuminate nothing outside their meticulously carved lines - none of the ground around the Spike is lit up, none of the Spike's smoothed ebony superstructure reflects any of it.

"Watch your steps. Never seen ground so smooth before, there's almost nothing to get a grip on. We got twenty minutes to set up camp before that-" Naomi points towards the towering knife in the earth, "-becomes safe to approach."

She depressed a button on her suit's arm and a drone rumbled out from the side of the ship towards her, though it slid briefly on the slick ice before it made any progress. Carried on the back of it was the skeleton of a tent, slowly unfolding as the drone dragged itself across the ice. It was fully extended when the drone ground to a halt and sinks low to the ground. There is the sound of cracking ice and drilling as the tent's walls began to crawl up from the drone's underbelly. It didn't take long for them to knit the fabric walls of the tent, and with a final whine the drone slumped to the ground.

"Doesn't look like much, but it's pressurised and safe to be in without suits. It's gonna be cramped as all hell for us though, hope you guys like to snuggle." Naomi winked and threw her hip out to one side as she placed a hand to the side of the tent. Where she did so, the leather like skin of it split in two and allowed her inside, where she stayed holding the tear open for the others. "C'mon. Fifteen minutes. Drop whatever you don't need and then we're getting closer to the vacuum edge."