Scions of Avarice: Mercenary Blues

[Pyrade]

Miriel
Miriel sat cross legged on the canopy of her 8 wheeled transport. Next to her lay the glistening hydrophobic cloak she kept specifically for outside ventures. Right now she didn't need it though. Instead she had her hands rested upon her knees while a small comm link hovered in the air in front of her. The shell of the comm link was split and each piece orbited at the outer limits of what appeared to be a small solar system in front of her. In the next orbit sat the screen, keyboards and speakers. As the orbits grew progressively smaller, the items floating in the orbits became progressively more technical, and more complex, until it reached the sun of the system, the core CPU of the comm. Pale blue lines traced the electroconductive pathways along Miriel's arms and legs and on her torso, but most was covered by her body armour. The lines emerged from her collar flowing up her face and to her closed eyelids. Two pale blue halos of light shone through the skin of her eyelids.

A hostile exchange of words drew her out of her technopathic meditation causing the pale blue glow to fade as her eyes opened. The comm-link rapidly reassembled itself before her. The mechadendrite arm which extended from the spinal mount on her back handed her her black staff as she stood up. She leapt off the APC, snatching the comm link on her way and patted the painting of the rabbit with a skull resting between its ears. The decoration was a flare of Miriel's more dramatic side, she had had it painted a week or two after she had bought the vehicle. Beneath the skull bearing rabbit sat the moniker, Felicity Grim in elegant, flowing script. A personal touch she had added using money from her various mercenary missions. This time though, her fixer had told her to meet a Sindarin elf here for her next mercenary job. Miriel watched the feline creature and the Tauran standing off. Her mechadendroid flexed slightly as she smirked and shook her head,
"Well, I sincerely hope you two won't be putting any dents in my Felicity. Otherwise you'll find yourself walking."
She said, her tone a characteristically, perfectly adjusted Hisen autotune. She turned her head to Sorschasta, fixing the Sindarin with a deep, blue-eyed smile,
"Miriel Mechina, I'm here about the contract offer. Tech-priest and pilot, at your service. I have my own vehicle . . . Although . . . She is prettier than yours."
She replied, ignoring the Tauran and the feline as she stepped forward to the table with the data slate. She had seen mercenary fights before, they often turned into brawls which ended up hurting both involved parties equally. Apart from that, she was more interested in the craft behind Sorschasta. It was quite . . . Ugly in the Hisen's opinion. It had a certain charm to it, a simple, practical charm. She picked up the stylus and signed the data slate silently, eyeing the vessel quite curiously.

[Aelosia]

Next in coming to the front to sign was Durz, the Ork. For a moment, Sorschasta thought if the lives of female Orks were any different than the ones of their more usually encountered male kin, then after a second she realized it was a theme for another day. "A mercenary outfit that runs like a Ork tribe?!", said the Ork before finally drawing some sort of rat that the dataslate recognized with a chirp, before adding "Count me in, elf. Consider me the company's until the gold runs out or the glory fades...Whichever's first.". and those words got a smile out of the typical porcelain engraved features of the elf. Before the opportunity faded, she approached the Ork as she came near the Tauran and the dwarf. "Perhaps Elven Corsairs and Ork Freebootahs ain't that different", said the elf naming the Ork pirates with a certain flavoured accent. "Elven pirates have been using this system for centuries. Perhaps none of the both sides had realized how similar they are, in the right circumstances", she said, returning the wink the Ork had given her before. It was an event of cataclysmic proportions to accept this, deep inside, something that crashed apart all her social conditioning, but Sorschasta could almost heard her inner voice as she told herself. "I think I am starting to like this Ork...".

Then, as she stood next to the Ork, the Charmagnan rose and spat the words "Ignorant Cow!" at the Tauran sitting puffing almost next to them, more likely as a late retort to the words Bokhlov had directed him before. He spoke of resistance and honor, as if his people were the only ones in the galaxy that understood those concepts. While Sorschasta could identify somewhat with the feelings expressed by the feline humanoid, honestly it was no different than the nolstalgia felt when a child refused to sleep alongside her stuffed bear. And exactly as mature. Once upon a time, she has felt that the elves were the only sentient beings that knew about honesty, altruism, honor, duty and sacrifice. Most young aelosians did, and that was why they called the rest of the sentient universe "lesser races", when in fact the elves were just another version of the same leitmotiv that rang through every conscious mind and reasoning living being, a lesson Sorschasta had learned the hard way. Everyone had a version of honor, of duty, of sacrifice. And yours wasn't better, more valid, or plainly superior to any of the others. Otherwise, conflict wouldn't exist. The fact that Ragnar haven't understand this core tenet of the existence gave Sorschasta a rather narrow view of what the Charmagnan was like.

She had decided to ignore most of his spite since her jumped out of shadows calling her monkey, trying to claim the higher moral seat, yet things changed when the charmagnan pulled out a weapon, a massive waraxe with a bluish edge, perhaps monomolecular, or just sharpened to an insane level, and yelled a challenge at Boklhov. Perhaps the cat felt intimidated by the presence of the bovine grenadier, and wanted to reinstate his self status as alpha male, or there was something else going on. Yet, as none of them had signed yet the contract, aything that happened between the Tauran and the Charmagnan wasn't actually her problem, not yet. They could kill each other right here right now and she wouldn't move a finger. Her duty was to her partners, not to strangers.

The situation quickly defused as the Tauran refused to rise to the challenge in a physical way, just snorting it out and ignoring the insults, giving the Charmagnan just a little measure of respect as to not whip him into further aggression, but also tracing a line of respect as to dishearten any further harsh terms. Surprisingly, Ragnar desisted of his challenge and went on towards the flextable, mumbling something else. Analyzing how the Tauran had managed such a delicate situation with a couple of words and gestures, Sorschasta realized how good of a leader he was. An elf wouldn't had shown as much restraint as the Tauran just did. Sorschasta knew she wouldn't have.

Then the fact that he had solved that situation seemed to drag Bokhlov over signing the papers, quickly followed by the Charmagnan. The Dovian Merchant Princess had already signed it, and even the Fex had volunteering his DNA sample as registered. Sorschasta made a mental note of trying to engage the Dovian in conversation later, as she felt that from all the new members of the company, Kayra was the one closer to her own upbringing and reasoning setup, but as with whatever she needed to ask the Ork, she left it for later. Administrative duties came first.

Then the autotuned voice chimed in, and Sorschasta turned to meet the Hisen. As she was the only member of the crew that seemingly managed to be late, Sorschasta feared that she wasn't going to make it, either by lack of interest or something else. Miriel was a Hisel, one of the most technological advanced races in the sector, a race the Aelosians didn't dare to mess with, given their gigantic industrial production and their ability to exponentially grow in technological power when attacked. The Aelosians just traded with the Hisel whatever they asked the Sindar for, just to get the marvels that came out of their Tech Temples, plenty of them so visionary that it was impossible for the elven engineers and inventors to try to reverse engineer them.

"Miriel Mechina, I'm here about the contract offer. Tech-priest and pilot, at your service. I have my own vehicle . . . Although . . . She is prettier than yours." , said the Tech-Priestess, thumbing a precious APC tagged as the "Felicity Grim" right at the dock's entrance. surely the altercation between the Tauran and the Charmagnan had distracted enough from the vehicle's parking, or the thing was too silent for even her ears to hear it. sorschasta turned towards the blocky mass of her Monnian Dropship and laughed openly, producing a flute like sound that was extremely pleasant to almost every sentient race in the sector.

"That undoubtely is! This Monnian piece of crap is heinous. Resilent, however, and few produce armourplates as thick as the Monnians do. Cheap as well, given I couldn't afford the surplus Falcon Grav-Tank I wanted. It works, however, and that's enough, even as crude as it is. Your vehicle is beautiful indeed", she added, interested in the Armoured Personnel Carrier lying in behind. "Almost as beautiful as my Nebula Mare. I hope to get you soon into orbit so you can admire it...", here the elf paused, grabbing the Tech-priestess forearm with unusual familiarity. "Perhaps you can help me cover a couple of details, but I swear it is the fastest Starcutter this side of the Sector. I can outrun military-grade frigates and smuggling sloops with it...Yet, if I can accept critics from soneone, it will be for sure from you. Heck, perhaps you can eventually even help me with the paintwork", continued Sorschasta to chirp around even after Miriel had signed the Charter and placed the stylus away. Somehow, the elf looked actually fascinated with the new arrival.

[The Flame Dawn]

Ishe had a look of total confusion on her face. Though she tried to follow the many conversations in an attempt to learn about the others' cultures without directly asking the question she was quickly overwhelmed and confused.

She hastily walked over to the commander of the company, "I'm sorry, but is there anything I'm required to do at this instance," she said in a meek and unsure tone, "I was trying to follow the conversations and to be honest I don't know much about the culture of these races, since it's not taught in my people's education system."

[Aelosia]

Sorschasta was overwhelmed by a moment by the aura of cuteness around the Peku girl, tempted by a second to ruffle her hair and pinch her cheek, until the plasma carbine hanging from the combat medic's back made her remember that Ishe was an accomplished soldier as deadly as the Ork or the Charmagnan. Thinking better, she just smiled politely at Ishe and pointed at the dataslate atop the flextable.

"It is simple", said the elf. "You sign if you want to become my partner. We share wins and losses and live and work together. If that's fine with you you write your name in the screen. If not, then I can give you a ride to the next populated system of your choice". Fighting again the impulse of patting her hair, Sorschasta crossed her arms over her chest. "Up to you, but I'd be happy to count you amongst us", she said, although she almost felt cruel for offering the peku to live locked inside a ship with all these extraordinarily aggressive and competitive people. "Just decide. You are the only one left".

[The Flame Dawn]

Sorschasta was overwhelmed by a moment by the aura of cuteness around the Peku girl, tempted by a second to ruffle her hair and pinch her cheek, until the plasma carbine hanging from the combat medic's back made her remember that Ishe was an accomplished soldier as deadly as the Ork or the Charmagnan. Thinking better, she just smiled politely at Ishe and pointed at the dataslate atop the flextable.

"It is simple", said the elf. "You sign if you want to become my partner. We share wins and losses and live and work together. If that's fine with you you write your name in the screen. If not, then I can give you a ride to the next populated system of your choice". Fighting again the impulse of patting her hair, Sorschasta crossed her arms over her chest. "Up to you, but I'd be happy to count you amongst us", she said, although she almost felt cruel for offering the peku to live locked inside a ship with all these extraordinarily aggressive and competitive people. "Just decide. You are the only one left".

Ishe gave a hasty nod, feeling a bit embarrassed about holding everyone up.

"Alright," she said with an uncertain voice, "well I have a few questions first."

She took a deep breath and organized the questions in her mind before asking them, trying not to make a complete fool of herself.

"First Question, I assume we will be given supplies and ammunition as needed," she said in a calculating tone, not much emotion could be heard in her voice, "Second Question, in the event a squad member needs medical attention, I can use experimental drugs which haven't been thoroughly tested but current results show extreme potential. Third Question, what are the sleeping arrangements and the cabins like?"

[Aelosia]

The elf was surprised to listen to the questions advanced by the peku, but not displeased. It was just that she expected this set from one of the others and not Ishe, but all were questions she was actually expecting and had answers ready for.

"For the first, I try to gather ammunition and supplies as needed, but you must understand that some exotic pieces, as plasma cells or tungsten rail rods, for example, aren't as easy to acquire or recharge as others, so expect some bottlenecks from time to time. I have some common weapons as lascarbines and autopistols aboard the ship if such case present itself. You are all free to carry out your own efforts if you feel like it, but in that case it comes from your own pocket. Regarding the cost of the ammo and some vital supplies, it comes out from the reinvestment percentile taken from the raw winnings we must agree with. As shipmaster I pay for the food and housing of everyone, and ship fuel, maintenance or repairs. Other expenses are a discount on the winnings before the partition of the rewards gets done".

Here the elf paused briefly before continuing. "Regarding the second, your opinion as medical officer is absolute, but if any injured or sick partner of the company consciously object to a treatment, you can't force him or her to take it. Otherwise it's up to you with what you lace us with"

"And finally regarding the third, there is a full cargo hold in the ship for your accomodation, as the former cramped elven crew quarters were sealed for additional power generators. There are twenty cargo containers in that hold improved as hab-worthy. Each measures 20 square meters and includes a basic hab-room with psychoplastic flexing adaptable furniture, mainframe connection and a private sanitary-disposal-hygiene unit. The cargo hold free space is modified with a field kitchen and diner, although you are free to take your meals in your room. The former shuttle entrance is covered by transparent psychoglass that lets you all watch the void if you want, and the hold also have a small gathering area for briefing, debriefings or meetings, or as the humans say, chill out during transitions. Fresh food is provided four times every seven cycles given rationing, and the cook turns rotate unless there are volunteers. Foodstuff is bought on the markets of the last planet visited and oh boy mileage may vary regarding quality and even edibility. Normal not-fresh rations are composed of nutrition slabs and composite gruel generated by synthetizer as in most long travelling starships, although honestly the elven lembas slabs are better flavoured than standard. Depends on palate, however. There are a couple of spidervitors that handle cleaning, and two more in charge of laundry if needed, although some bottlenecks might be expected if all partners require their services at the same time".

Here the elf winked at Ishe "Are your doubts clarified by this level of detail, Ishe?", she said hoping fot an answer from the peku.

[Brusia]

After signing the Charter, D'vok was pleasantly surprised to notice that the Aelosian's gaze transformed from it's formerly angry scowl to a much warmer looking countenance as she nodded towards D'vok. Whether this change was brought on by D'vok's new status as a member of the Scions or mere politeness, he could not say, but he was certainly glad of the change whatever the reason. He politely nodded back at the Aelosian; had he been from a different race he would likely have smiled, but smiling is, naturally, unbecoming a Ramulon.

He then stood back and watched as the rather brutish Charmagnan insulted the Tauran and challenged him to combat. D'vok had been a mercenary long enough that he had seen such scenes unfold no small number of times; though typically not until after the would-be combatants had imbibed fairly copious amounts of alcohol. To his surprise however, events did not unfold as usual. Rather than attack his challenger, the Tauran displayed an impressive degree of tact and ended the fight before it began with a short, witty retort then resumed smoking his pipe. Clearly this Tauran was someone worth becoming better acquainted with.

He continued watching as the other mercenaries affixed their signatures to the virtual document, and watched with particular interest the final mercenary to arrive: a young Hisen woman. His people had had some dealings with the Hisen (like many other species, the Ramulons are quite interested in Hisen technology) but he had never met one in person. The Scientist in him was immediately excited at the fact that a member of such a technologically advanced race would be joining them on their expedition. He had a great many questions he would like to ask this Hisen, and perhaps if they got to know each other better, she might even allow him to conduct a neural scan...

D'vok's thoughts were interrupted when he noticed the young Ishe woman was speaking to the Aelosian. As he listened to what was being said, his pointed ears perked up when he heard the question about experimental drugs. Not wanting to interrupt, he waited for the Aelosian to finish her response, then he approached the two and said:

"Pardon me, I overheard the Ishe woman's question regarding the use of experimental drugs and had a suggestion: I have fairly extensive training in Chemistry and the Biological Sciences, and could run analyses on the drugs in question to ensure that there are no biological incompatibilities with anyone in the company. That should help to mitigate the risk of using these drugs by identifying any potential adverse effects beforehand."

[Pyrade]

Miriel
Miriel was at first taken off guard by the Sindarin's familiarity or fascination. It was not the normal greeting she received from mercenaries. She was well acquainted with distrust and fear simply because of her unusual abilities. Some met her with hidden greed, and all sorts of plots to deal with her later. However this Sindarin was far different, she seemed genuinely glad to see the Hisel. Her mechadendrite arm had begun moving in reflex to the Sindarin's touch, but Miriel immobilised it with a quick burst of controlled thought.
"Practicality is helpful indeed . . . I'm sure she'll get us where we need to go."
She replied, turning her gaze from the ship to the elf. On her homeworld, technology was naturally grown, and shaped by tech-priests such as herself. It was the will of Techratus, Polaster, Covelium and Debridal. Hence, she always held an expectation for technology, however practical, to still be beautiful. Outside her homeworld though, she was frequently reminded that technology was forged out here. It was a word she found quite apt for the process, as she saw it as a pale attempt to copy Hisen abilities . . . Even if it had come first.
"You own a Nebula Mare? Well, I would certainly be happy to give my opinion on your ship! If I have a chat with her I might be able to coax a little more speed if you like. I have always dreamed of piloting one of those . . ."
Miriel responded cheerfully, her voice shifting through it's range with an abnormal shift between notes as she gripped Sorschasta's arm in kind. Her vocal chords were automatically holding notes unnaturally level the way Hisel did when they spoke. She still had emotional tone and inflection, but to a degree where her voice did not allow discordant or off-key notes. A small side-effect of her biomechanical system.
She was quite looking forward to seeing this vessel itself, and accessing its systems, that would be a dream come true for the pilot.

She remained silent as the rather adorable Ibok spoke. It was quite irregular to find one of their species signing on for mercenary work. Miriel had encountered them once or twice in her travels. They were quite a peaceful race it had seemed, but she asked a lot of the right questions. Although, Miriel was slightly worried about the mention of experimental drugs. She would not object to the treatment, but whether or not her body would accept the medicines, but she said nothing. She would discuss it with the Ibok later. At the mention of plasma cells though, her eyes widened a little in excitement.
"I would very much enjoy an attempt to create a plasma generator . . ."
She murmured softly before she stepped away from the group and the data slate,
"I shall bring Felicity over, we'll need to load her last though."
She said as she walked towards the APC, her movement aided by the black staff in her hand. She approached her craft and placed a hand on the side of it. A brief burst of blue along her data conduits signaled a transfer of data. The command executed almost immediately, the cockpit opening with a pressurized hiss and a mechanical movement of the plasteel glass. She hopped in and sat in the seat with her hands on the levers.

She cycled the air tanks, venting the old, stale air through the twin exhaust manifolds on top of the vessel and started the motor. The sound of the Hisen modified engine was nothing like that of most engines. It whined slightly before the cycle started at which point the engine rested at a low hum. It rolled forward under her well experienced foot, pausing next to the group.

[The Flame Dawn]

Ishe had a shy look on her face at the uproar her mentioning of experimental drugs had brought. Her tail swished back and forth under her cloak and she had an unsure look on her face.

"Well the drugs are experimental with minimal testing conducted," Ishe said, hoping to quell any concern that the topic brought up, "but I've learned from first hand experience that each race has a unique anatomy and that if you give them the wrong drug bad stuff... happened to say the least. So I will make sure I don't make the mistake since I'd hate to make enemies out of so many people who could easily do nasty things to me."

Ishe sighed and took a deep breath, regaining her professional composure, "so where do I sign up? I'll need access to the med bay and a data pad with the current stock of medical equipment and supplies, as well as medical files on each member of the crew."

[Aelosia]

TAKEOFF

"You just need to write your name over here", said Sorschasta to Ishe pointing at the center of the screen. The elf seemed eager to keep moving forward from this point, not willing to let the company grow idle. Right after the Ibok signed the chapter, she picked up the dataslate and the stylus and saved them in a pouch of her flight suit, the flextable and seat collapsing on itself until all that remained of it was a package smaller than a suitcase. Picking it up, the Sindar walked towards the side hull of the dropship, and pulled a lever that flipped a touch screen with a rune depicted on it. She turned here towards the others nearby and winked. "Welcome to the Scions of Avarice, partners. Now it's time to show you your new home for the time being, and get ready to work", she added in a mischievous tone while removing her glove. As Sorschasta placed her bare hand on the symbol, the side hatch of the dropship opened with clanking sounds of moving gears and the hiss of released pressurized gas. The armoured plank slided upwards, and a ramp extended from the inside of the dropship.

"Get ready to move ASAP, I don't want to stay in this scrapyard long enough for something nasty to find out we are here", Sorschasta said as she pressed another series of buttons in a panel placed on the hull. "I'll start the systems while you load your stuff", and here she turned towards the Hisen Priestess. "Miriel, might be better if we load pretty Felicity here first into the bay, and the controls for securing it inside are pretty simple, nothing your expertise couldn't handle, so I will leave you to it. I guess the rest of the people can either hop aboard the Carrier or get aboard after it. Your choice, there are launch seats at the sides of the bay. Kayra, I know you have a boat, so you better go to wherever you left it and bring it on. Meet me at high orbit at atmosphere breaking altitude, Callsign windrider", said the elf as a rumble started to echo from the insides of the starting clumsy vessel.

The Sindar climbed the ramp in a hurry and went directly towards the control bridge located in the front of the dropship, taking a seat, placing her flight helmet on and fixating her Control Impulse unit upon her shoulder, plugging traslucent cables on her right temple and behind her opposite ear, the slim parasitic smart machine made of psychoplastic seemingly out of place amongst the crude controls for the human-made ship. Seconds later, her interface with the ship was complete, the HUD control appearing on her inner visor. Turning on the dropship's internal speakers, the elf directed a thought to be verbalized to the others. "This is the third time I fly this piece of ugly, clumsy metal. I haven't named it yet. Anyone has an idea?", Sorschasta's voice echoed from the ship with a slight mechanized overtone while she waited for the slow engines to gather power and the rest of the company to hop aboard.

[Kaidou]

Scrapyards

At last; after quite a bit of waiting, they were about to get moving. Yngvarr didn't like being stationary. It reminded him of two things; sitting in an army office doing clerical duties, and hiding in a trench, wondering with an ever growing malaise why the enemy had remained silent for over 16 hours straight. Neither of them were very pleasant sensations (personally, Yngvarr despised the first one more).

He looked over to where Sorschasta had just gone. She had opened up the dropship, before promptly making her way through the thing's big, gaping mouth. He decided that, perhaps, it was probably a good idea to get on. After all, Mr Chorizo and the MS Dunkelheit were nowhere in sight now, so there wasn't another choice for him. Whirling about on the heels of his outstandingly shiny boots, he walked towards the dropship, before climbing into the vehicle via the ramp, taking great care not to scratch his pace stick against anything.

The moment he was inside, he proceeded to make himself comfortable on one of the launch seats, putting his suitcase on the floor and resting some of his body weight on the pace stick as if it were a walking stick (so as to avoid crumpling the back of his uniform; he was, evidently, very proud of it). Not a bad ship, indeed, though it looked to him like it was a little old.

It certainly reminded him of his time in the Army of Tuonakuni. On one occasion, when he was just a Corporal (CPL), he had been assigned to help supervise a month long outfield training camp on another planet in the solar system, the name of which evaded him no matter how hard he tried to remember it. Like the rest of the enlisted grade men (even the Chief Instructors and the Warrant Officers), the then CPL Yngvarr was made to squeeze along the launch seats of the ship. An abysmal experience it was; not to mention the fact that on his left was a Private (PVT) who could not stop talking to him throughout the journey, and on his right was a Senior Staff Sergeant (SSSGT) wearing an RP armband who constantly stared sinisterly at him without saying a single word.

Already, this was much better. It wasn't like taking a cruise ship (or the officer quarters in a military vessel, for that matter), but Yngvarr would be the last one to complain.

As for the name… He didn't have any good ideas, so he thought it best to be quiet on that.

[Pyrade]

Miriel
Miriel nodded in agreement with the Sindarin's suggestions. A quick tap from her unoccupied mechadendrite limb caused one of the myriad of buttons, which bathed the cockpit in a pale yellow light, to open the doors at the rear of the vehicle. The segmented metal plates slid upwards, folding into one another and tucking up against the roof of the vehicle, leaving the new opening bare.
"Just climb in if you want a lift all the way up the ramp . . . Lazy mercs . . . ", Miriel said with a teasing sardonic tone to her perfect pitch. The APC sat quietly in front of the ramp. The induction coil humming softly as its driver waited for anyone to board the vehicle. After a few more seconds, Miriel got things rolling once more. Her hands piloted the large vehicle up the ramp with practiced skill and parked it easily within the bounds of the vehicle loading area. A slightly louder mechanical hum replaced the sound of the engine as the coil was removed from its reactive position, then the engine went silent completely. She sat back in her seat, which had a segment removed from the top to about halfway down the back. The mechradendrite appendage sat perfectly within the confines of the modified seat, allowing Miriel relative comfort while driving. She released a soft, satisfied sigh as she pondered what she had signed on for.
The Scions of Avarice . . . I quite like that . . .
She thought to herself with a grin before she hopped lithely out of Felicity's cockpit.

Miriel moved around to the back of the APC to usher those who had hitched a ride off before she secured her precious vehicle. The interior of the passenger cabin showed signs of personal improvement. Here and there ordinary cabling had been replaced with Hisen electroconductive channels. One of the basics of Hisen technology, the channels could be grown over time by a diligent Hisen with decent technopathy skills, or it could be bought on the technology black market, but installing the channels the way Miriel had, by completely assimilating them with the metallic skin of the vehicle was almost impossible for a non-Hisen. The channels snaked around the cabin in a very vine-like manner, directing data and power around the vessel. In a few spots standard cabling still made an appearance, but often it hung free of its usual mountings, awaiting replacement. Passengers that paid more attention than was healthy for avoiding paranoia might have noticed the scores and claw marks present where mountings and fittings had been forcibly removed by Miriel's mechadendrite appendage. Other than the obvious alterations to the circuitry though, it was a rather standard APC layout in the back.

Once everyone had been ushered out of Felicity Miriel closed up the rear door and activated the securing mechanism. She then looked around the loading bay as she analysed the spacecraft she was on.
"A name hmm?" She mused aloud, placing a gentle hand on the wall of the loading bay. The vessel was ugly, she could not deny it. But as an ordained priest of Karadel, she was aware of the need for practicality. This vessel, although its worldly creators did not know, was modeled in the image of Garailie, the machine god of whose very chapter was that of practicality. Or at least, that was what the tech-priest believed, if the machine gods actually had a hand in shaping this vessel was hardly important.
"What about . . . Blossom? A pretty name for a practical lady." Miriel said with a small giggle.

[The Flame Dawn]

-snip-

After Ishe filled out the form she hastily followed behind her new commander as they boarded the large spacecraft. She stayed close behind the elf as they entered control bridge. She looked around and found a seat which she could easily sit in. She got into the chair and tapped a few keys on a datapad built into her arm-piece and a pair of headphone shot out of it. She put them on over her ears and began to listen to traditional Peku music. Unlike most others of her race, she wasn't a huge fan of space travel and needed a way to keep herself calm.

[Protestant England and Germany]

-snip-

Ragnar enjoyed his bunk on the ship, it reminded him of the cramped quarters he shared with 20 other Charmagnan warriors during their raids. It wasn't normal for a Charmagnan to revel in the pass, but this was too nostalgic to pass up. During his raids, Ragnar would often take part in Boasting Contests with other warriors who would try to call his bluffs and then boast about their own stories of fame, fortune, honor, and occasionally women. The ones about women seldom were true, but when it came to stories of honor and courage, no one could beat Ragnar. Other times, he would play games they picked up on from the worlds they visited, though mainly poker. Still others, they would brawl to determine the strongest and the swiftest. He chuckled. "Good times." He was sounding old, and in Charmagnan years, he was getting old, his fur was starting to grey and his eyes were starting to dull, not that it would matter. Upon hearing his stomach growl, Ragnar decided it was best to leave his nostalgic revelry and find some food.

[Levis Avara]

Space Yard

"Of course I'll be up in a few". She said with a hint of relief. Finally the waiting was over and her life has a mercenary would begin she had been waiting for what seem like forever, however she wasn't bored once she got a look of Ishe she nearly fell over and died from all the cuteness she gave off, and was quite surprised to find a Peku has a mercenary, Maybe she'll make the enemy underestimate her,it's hard to take her seriously with all that fluffiness .Has she left the company she was quite glad she had her own space vessel, being spoiled rotten she got a voidshifter for her birthday, her father said himself, My daughter will never in her life time ride in whatever piece of junk that mercenary group has to offer a Lavellan always rides in style, no matter how foolish said Lavellan is she tried her best to ignore the last part of what he said, and certainly wanted to prove him wrong,no matter how much they had discussed her being a mercenary he just couldn't see eye to eye with her.Maybe time would change his mind, she hoped,hating the reality that her father was now deeply ashamed of her . The ship was fully up to date with the latest technological modifications ,in fact the ship was custom designed and built by the Hisen themselves, one could tell by exquisite design and craftsmanship , Kayra was truly impressed by the technological prowess Miriels race displayed and couldn't wait to see what the techno priest had to offer. Has she reached her spaceship,she held her arm in front of her a holographic screen projected from her risk bracelet, and she typed in her password the doors opened with a calm hiss and she walked into the sleek luxurious interior, then to the control room and sat down has the holographic interface responded to her presence,then the ship started and with a soft purr blazed off to high orbit.

[Aelosia]

The Nebula Mare

Sorschasta sniggered once she had all systems operational and the large cold fusion engines went alive with a subsonic roar. She had waited until everyone had caught the ride, and made themselves as cozy as possible inside the cramped interiors of the dropship or the Hisen APC. "Safety first, gentlemen, expecting a bumpy ride from here to orbital stations", she thought through her comm matrix, the idea transmitted by her Mind Impulse Unit and verbalized through the dropship's speakers to the rest of the Scions.

With a final howl the antigrav unit of the dropship managed to lift it from the ground and the plasma engines took care of the vertical launch with a blast of blue light and another roar, the boxy vessel propelling itself out of the space dock and into a direct rise through the scrapyard's scarce artificial atmosphere. As the Monnian dropship rose further away from the ground as fast as it seemed to be capable of, the entire decks started to vibrate and rattle, the entire structure shaking and throwing small unattended items around the bay.

"Improving conditions soon", echoed Sorschasta's automately modified voice through the speakers after a couple of minutes as she turned on the dropship's small deflection shields, filling the interior of the ship with a static hum and the smell of overcharged ozone. A bubble of magnetic energy surrounded the armoured shuttle, with the intention of avoiding the large amount of debris compiled away from the docks' exit. The field held most particles out, but the larger pieces of space trash had to be avoided by manually maneouvering around them. The small trembling and shaking dissappeared, but from time to time the entire ship lurched one direction or the other, as the elf expertly dodged big pieces of the Sassenkay's residue belt.

After getting to a certain altitude, well above the slight gravitational pull of the Scrapyards, the elf pressed a bright rune on her controls that broadcasted the ship's position and the callsign Windrider, as agreed with Kayra on the surface. Once she managed to track and lock on the Dovian's sleek and clearly more agile ship, she gave her a set of coordinates to follow.

The coordinates led to the destination where the Nebula Mare, Sorschasta's Orbital Ship and the Scions' homebase and headquarters, was lying in wait. To the naked eye, there was nothing occupying that position but a couple of abandoned Melkorian shipwrecks, relics from the Sindarin War in Heaven and artificially drifted into the Scrapyards by the Aelosian Navy where they had been stripped of everything useful a century ago. The trip was uneventful, without any challenges from other ships or nasty encounters that could be common in the area, but the turbulence continued in spite of Sorschasta's best efforts to minimize it, as the area around the drifting hulks was heavily polluted with pieces of the hulls that had dropped from the main superstructure and kept a tight field around them, causing the Dropship to tremble and bounce each time the magnetic field deflected a large floating scrap.

Once they reached the couple of hulks, Sorschasta linked her Control Unit with the Aeternal Circuit inside her ship, broadcasting her own psygnature to the Sindarin's craft, warning it of her coming and ordering it to power up and wait for docking of both her shuttle and the Dovian's one.

From the gutted innards of the largest remains of the Melkorian shipwreck a sudden shadow came out right in front of the dropship, the profile of a sleek large vessel coming out of the largest open cavity in the hull like a parasitic being leaving a dead host. The black hull seemed to be untraceable until it powered up opening its aft Solar Sails, gleaming orange as the light of the Sassekay's suns was caught on them and started to charge the dormant systems, coming into view of the Scions for the first time...




The Nebula Mare, officially an Atanatári Class Starcutter, was different from the Monnian shuttle the Scions had been introduced to as a elven ballerina was different from a Yllirian Rhino. It was lithe, slender and supple, curvaceous where the Dropship was square, and elongated where the dropship was blocky. It transpired grace and finesse, a poise of refinement unique to the Sindarin vessels, so different from the resilent, armoured practicality the Monnian craft was designed for.

The Dropship manouvered close to it, broadcasting its psydentity to the mothership, turning off proximity alerts and automated point defense for both itself and the Dovian craft, also letting the Orbital vessel to maglock a tractor beam to both the smaller crafts and bring them into the open launch bay located on its curved belly.

Now guided by the Mare automated landing systems the vessel seemed to enjoy a calmer trajectory, pulses from the Sindar ship clearing the immediate area from any debris coming out of the nearby laying hulks. Several minutes after, both ships went inside the Nebula Mare structure and landed upon the launch bay unmolested, and landed upon its interior surface guided by the Aeternal Matrix easily and softly, each one occupying the open spots, filling the bay entirely.

Unplugging her Mind Control Unit, Sorschasta took all steps to disconnect herself from the cockpit and depower the Dropship entirely, leaving the controls of the Monnian craft and going into the personnel space on the back with a proud grin on her visage.

"Lads and lasses. Be welcome to the Nebula Mare, your new home until greed or death separate us", she said, pressing a large, crude lever on the inside of the Dropship's landing doors, opening the hatch with a raw hiss and extending the ramp towards the launch's bay wraithbone floor.

Once the mercenaries had left the landed dropship and reunited with Kayra Lavellan, Sorschasta directed them towards an iris like hatch located at the left wall of the launch bay. "This is the one and only launch bay the Mare has. Cargo Bay Primis, your hosting premises, are to the other side of this door", said the elf as the iris spontaneously opened as she approached, leading to an area similar to the launch bay where the ships had landed, although this one was occupied by several blocky structures, twenty in total, clearly primitive cargo containers as used by hundreds of civilizations accross the galaxy, but modified as habitational units, completed with the main commodities any living being needed for normal function, although most of them were designed with humanoid lifeforms in mind. Alongside the four rows of habitational units, there was what seemed a field kitchen unit in one corner, with large faucets coming from the wall for unknown purposes, alongside the typical portable oven and cooking utensils and devices and different porcelain-like recipients. In the other corner, there was a gathering area around a section of the bay's wall replaced with a large holoscreen and surrounded by several lounge items made of the same ever present porcelain-like material.

"As I said", issued Sorschasta as she let her companions wander around the area. "This is your new home. Not luxurious or especially unique, but functional with the funds I had for invest. Accomodations might improve once we start to hit jackpots on missions, but this was the best I could manage with my starting funds".

Here she pointed at the gathering area around the holoscreen in one corner. "Look around, drop your stuff and make yourselves comfortable. I'll leave for thirty minutes to an hour to check the powering procedure from the solar sails, reboot hyperspace systems, and then we should perhaps gather here and discuss any general details we have pending, and also the details of our first job. I have already several proposals and offers we have to choose from", finished the elf as she prepared to leave to the control room of the ship located on a higher level. "Anything else you need before I leave?", she asked raising one eyebrow at the varied gathering.

[New Ferris]

Nebula Mare
Bain Wintershield

Bain whistled at the sight of the Nebula Mare, a graceful and finesse craft, unlike Dwarven ships that were blocky ungraceful crafts which held more power and destruction in them than most other orbital vessels. He was eager to explore the vessel and figure out her intricacies. Though he paused for a second.

"Well lady Sorchasta, are we able te claim any on ship duties? I'd like te be in charge on the Armoury if in that case, it'd be a shame to mi dwarven ancestry to be denied this. Hell, I neednt even be paid for it or anything, take it as a dwarven courtesy."

Bain needed this position as it was a very valueable position to all dwarves as in dwarven society, the position of Arms-Master was given to only those of the higest skilled, it meant that commanders trusted thise given the position.

[The Flame Dawn]

Ishe looked around in amazement at the size of the cargo bay and after they were allowed to wander around she hastily scampered towards the one of the containers close to the field kitchen.

She opened the door and threw threw her light pack onto the bed while she looked around her room, the ceilings were nice and high for her but she wasn't a fan of the porcelain-like furniture. She made a mental note that if she was going to stay here for some time she was going to need some nice comfortable furniture. She flopped down onto the bed and took a deep breath getting used to the feel of the bed before getting up and reaching into her pack. She pulled out a doctor's uniform from when she was working in a hospital and put it on to replace her combative armor and walked back out of the container.

"Could someone show me where the Medical Station is," Ishe asked as she tugged at her collar, "I would like to get used to my new work space.

[Lunas Legion]

The Fex ignored the cargo containers; mostly has he had no concept of a 'home', merely somewhere to nest to use for rest and eating. Fex spent most of their lives in confined spaces; they were born in them, they scavenged in them, they slept in them, and ultimately they died in them. And given that they had evolved to live in cave systems, it was only natural that they tended to avoid large open spaces as much as possible. It was a basic survival instinct that had served them well both against the other alpha predators on their home world, and now served just as well in the world opened up by the Conquerors.

So he instead buzzed up towards a small jutting overhang in front of an air vent, before crouching on it. Large enough to sleep, good vantage point, very difficult to reach, and he could remove the air vent covering to move in there, but he'd deal with that later. He had a place to sleep, eat and free food to boot, and that was definitely enough for him.

[Brusia]

D'vok was somewhat less impressed by the Nebula Mare than many of those seated near him in the dropship. It was certainly a better vessel than the junker flown by his former mercenary company, but still no comparison to a Ramulon Warbird in his opinion. Once aboard, D'vok listened to the Captain's short speech then, having no questions, laid claim to one of the cargo containers and began putting his things away. First, he took off his energy dampening armor and changed into an old Ramulon Imperial Army uniform from which he had removed his old rank insignia and medals, so that he would not be mistaken as an active duty soldier.

He then put the rest of his clothes and equipment in the footlocker at the foot of his bed, then headed to the armory, where he put his particle rifle in one of the weapon racks. His phase pistol he kept in a holster on his thigh for now, where it would remain until he was certain he could trust this new company. With the few minutes he had left until the group met again to discuss their first contract, D'vok decided to take a quick tour of the ship.

[Kaidou]

Some years ago

The school. How he hated having to teach at the school.

They, again, had sent him two platoons of soft, pasty recruits, fresh from basic training. It seemed to SSSGT Yngvarr Mangchir, at the time, that he would be stuck with this vocation for the rest of his career. And that wasn't the best of vocations. It meant that he would be stuck on the rank ladder, since he was reduced to being an instructor, a role that, at least in this particular Army, was almost impossible to earn promotions with.

Day after day, he would march platoons around the parade grounds. That one day which he remembered definitely wasn't the best of days either.

He had just received two new platoons from basic training; it was, by far, the worst intake he had seen in his entire 6 years at the Logistics Corps. Some were scratching their backs secretly, some were looking about without the slightest trace of eyeball discipline, or any form of parade discipline for that matter.

Before anything else, he would shock them out of their ill disciplined stupor. "Are you all going for a walk in the fucking park?" he asked them sarcastically.

"No sir!" (Anybody who was a Senior Staff Sergeant and above was addressed as "sir".)

"Then stand up straight, and don't fidget, or this [he showed them his CSM pace stick] is going to go up every single one of your passages, one by one!"

"Yes sir!"

Yngvarr soon began his drill session. It was better than he had expected, especially considering his terrible first impression of them. However, one of the trainees, a certain PTE Octat Anggus, simply could not march straight. Despite the excessively loud timing from SSSGT Yngvarr, he was, somehow, unable to synchronise his arm-swings with the rest of the platoon. He even went straight out of the platoon once.

"Have you got a free ticket to outer space?" he said in his overly sarcastic tone.

PTE Anggus got the message, and went back into the platoon, still swinging his arms in a way that Yngvarr was completely unable to describe. There was simply nothing else that could be done.

Perhaps this wasn't the vocation for him? Perhaps it was time for something more drastic.

[Aelosia]

A corridor on the Nebula Mare


"Oh, Master Bain", said Sorschasta with slight bow following typical Dwarven custom and using the proper honorific. "You honor me with your offer, but there is no need for a weaponmaster aboard this ship. Its weapons are automated through psycontrols linked to the bridge, although for weapons it has only a Quad turbolaser battery and a largely unused torpedo tube. However, point-defense turrets might be manned, so perhaps during our first hypertravel I'll give you all a tour of the facilities at the second level, where weapons control is located". Here the elf tapped the tip of her oval chin with her index finger. "What we all might need from you, however, is to function as the Company's weaponmaster. That door here, next to the hatch entrance to the bay", started the elf pointing at a reinforced bulwark unusually made of some sort of shiny metal instead the plastic-porcelain present in the rest of the ship. "That's the armoury. I made the effort of purchasing several backup pieces in case anyone needed a toy or two. Stamped, blackmarketed surplus material, nothing fancy, but functional in any case".

Walking towards the place she was pointing at, the elf brought a plastic glowing rune from one of her flight suit's pouches and pressed it against a hole in the metal door, which promptly slid upwards. She beckoned the dwarf to the entrance and pressed the rune against the palm of his hand. "This is yours for the time being, you can keep it until we vote to give you the formal title of weaponmaster alongside its duties of taking care of anything we have on this room". At this point she turned to the others. "I might advise to leave all the heavy stuff you are packing on this room and carry around only your sidearms and ceremonials aboard, but I can't order you people, as I said, we're equals, so your call".

Inside the room there were racks upon the wall on which several long, stocked weapons rested, including half a dozen of lasblasters, two of them rifle sized, while the rest seemed to be compact designed carbines. As Sorschasta had said, the weapons didn't seem high quality, but sheet assembled and pressed examples of human industrial efforts instead of the more careful elven manufacture, which meant the Sindar had not purchased them from aelosian sources. The weapons seemed new, however, a couple of them still enveloped in some sort of traslucent plastic covering. Further in the room were a couple of larger pump action flechette shotguns from the same fabricant as the blasters, a rudimentary flamer with a blackened nozzle meaning it had seen some use, and finally a six-drummed hand held grenade launcher. A dozen of laspistols, the most common design through the galaxy, although not exactly the best, were resting upon a flextable nearby, only half of them assembled, the others still in pieces. Typical ammo boxes filled with what seemed to be powercells and solid slugs were lying to the other side of the room, alongside a couple of containers of heavier ordnance like grenades, both in throwing and shell form. At the corner in the end of the room, some sort of pillar structure glowed with tinted green lights, seemingly a charger for energy weapons connected to whatever was the ship's central power system.

"Well", said Sorschasta shrugging as her eyes rested upon the diassembled pistols. "I didn't really have time to put everything in order, as you might see, but I tried. Feel free to take a look around and fidget with what you think needs taking care of".

After she finished showing the armoury to Bain, she turned to Ishe as the Peku left one of the lodging units and asked for the Medical Facility. Pointing at the medic to follow her with her hand, Sorschasta walked to the end of the bay, and pointed at a traslucent door at one corner. "There's medical. I lacked the specialist knowledge to choose the proper equipment, so I dealt with the friend of a friend who said he knew about the stuff. As far as I know, there are 4 automated grav-gurneys, something called intense recovery fluid tank, for intensive care, a sterilization unit, surgery equipment, surveying machines, a medical terminal linked to the ship AI and an international network for the storage, consultation and correlation of data, and a ton of basic chemicals and medicines, alongside with a couple of assembled and ready field medical kits, with some basic laboratory equipment too, but nothing too fancy. I bought the entire bay in bulk, as a set, so you will have to check the manifest alongside Yngvarr to see what exactly I got", said the elf with a look of I'm really sorry on her face. She led the peku through the door, that seemed to have no key and opened automatically, fidgeted around a couple of drawers and produced a large folder filled with printed pages. "Here it is, the manifest. Whatever is written there is lying somewhere inside this bay".

At this point she turned her head upwards, towards whatever hole the Fex had tried to nest and called it aloud. "Don't go into the vents. They vent, that's what they are for. Some go really live in case the weapons are turned on, so I would advise you to avoid them unless you want to end cooked. There are a couple of unfurnished habitats to the end. They are empty, so perhaps you can nest there. I would avoid the ceiling. This is a cargo bay, so a ton of energy pass through and sometimes surfaces can get hot enough as to burn", said the elf, seemingly genuinely concerned about the bug's safety.

As D'vok inspected the ship, he could noticed there was unrestricted access from the Cargo Bay they were into to the next bay where the aircraft rested upon their daises. There were a couple of pads marked as to park vehicles with grav grapples attached to them as well. A large elevator that had only one control to go down was located at the end of that bay, sindarin runes indicating it led towards a lower level with a cargo bay. A couple of smaller elevators were located in both bays, these ones only going to upper levels, but both seemed to be locked and needing some sort of identification or password to activate. As D'vok looked around, Sorschasta went to one of those elevators, that went live and shot at a high speed up, dissappearing towards a higher level, surely where the bridge was located. Somehow, however, the other elevator seemed to be blocked until ordered to.

[Pyrade]

Miriel
Miriel gazed out of a viewing port of the Monnian ship with all the energy and excitement of a young child around confectionary. As the Nebula mare came into view she could scarcely contain her excitement. As the monnian vessel was drawn towards the sleek orbital ship Miriel was bobbing impatiently at the viewing port, ready to burst off the ship as soon as they docked. She hardly noticed what little turbulence had occurred along the journey, such was her anticipation of the vessel they would be boarding.

As soon as the Monnian ship's doors opened Miriel shoved her way out of the place, taking care to keep her Mechadendrite limb from clouting somebody in the head. She scampered along the loading bay in utter joy and giddiness.
"SHE'S BEAUTIFUL!"
The Hisel yelled aloud, causing her crisp tone to echo through the loading bay. She felt tempted to connect with the vessel and explore its circuits . . . But that would be rude, she had no permission, and it was not her ship . . . But it would be sooo easy . . . just one touch . . . Her hand was reaching out to touch the interface panel of one of the grav-lock systems, a faint blue forming on the tips of her fingers.
Surely it can't hu-, She began thinking before Sorschasta introduced them to their rooms, breaking Miriel's train of thought as she returned to the group, a giddy smile on her face. Technically, if she had interfaced with the ship, it would likely have had no effect on the actual running of the ship . . . But for Hisen, ordained priests especially, there were certain boundaries one adhered to out of courtesy. Not to mention some systems did not appreciate external datastreams at all, biofeedback was never fun.

Miriel was about to move forward and choose a room when the voidshifter caught her eye. The sleek black craft was a creation of her homeworld. Seeing it docked here brought a small pang of pride as well as a little hint of jealousy . . . but mostly it added to her elation. These vehicles were marvels, and both would likely earn great favour in the optics of Techratus. Miriel found herself forced to tear her gaze away from the beautiful Hisen craft, only barely resisting the urge to dash over and inspect the machine. She stepped into the living area, inspecting it halfheartedly as her thoughts returned to the two vessels she had seen, and one of which she was now on board. She shook her head rapidly, clearing her mind as she focused.
Now is not the time to be fawning over the Voidshifter, or the Nebula Mare . . . even if both are absolutely mind ruiningly beautiful . . . With fully configurable auxillary control apertures shaped using the force of the mighty Kedrator tree itself . . . I wonder if any of them have actually seen- No! Focus Miriel! Professional, get your room. Place your things . . . and get permission to analyse the Nebula Mare, she thought, restraining a giggle at the last thought.

Miriel stepped forth to the nearest hab, opening the door and inspecting it. It was indeed satisfactory, and far better than she was used to. . . Although in all honestly she preferred living in a workshop surrounded by her little projects. Nothing a few good paydays couldn't fix though. She nodded and placed her staff on the bed before she returned the the APC, removing her pack of gear from the passenger seat in the front cabin. Her Mechadendrite limb hefted the bag onto the bed as her fingers danced over the screen of her data slate briefly before she placed that on the bed too. Unlike most, she kept her armour on. The form-fitting armour was quite snug, and removing it would mean having to remove her ornate chapter cloak which held symbols of everyone of the 30 machine gods of Hisen, and she would have to work it off of the mechadendrite limb as well and that alone took far too long for her liking. Sadly nobody ever had armour her size that was equipped for mechadendrite attachments, meaning she had to modify almost everything.
She left the hab and moved to the lounging area with her data slate after she had rearranged the hab to her liking. Miriel took a seat on one of the porcelain like seats and called out,
"Does anyone know who's piloting the Voidshifter?"
She asked nonchalantly, trying not to seem as if she was dying to simply touch the machine.

[Kaidou]

Nebula Mare

Unpacking was messy business.

Sure, it was convenient to stuff and carry everything in one big suitcase; it made worrying about leaving this bag or that other bag behind a moot concern. It was obvious, though, that there were drawbacks to anything convenient.

The moment Yngvarr got into his room and unzipped his suitcase, the cover flipped open, revealing a rapidly expanding pile of neatly folded shirts, now slightly crumpled from their long period of compression. This was clearly going to take some time to clean out, especially considering the fact that he had been unable to stuff the battery operated iron into his suitcase.

Thankfully, apart from the terrible state of his uniforms (and his pyjamas, the only civvy attire he had with him), the rest of the luggage he had brought along remained largely unharmed. Stretching, Yngvarr placed his pace stick on the table and slowly began to take the things out of his suitcase.

"Damn", he said to himself. Clearly, he needed to find an iron, at least, when the situation allowed for it. Now, though, he realised that he had become much more tired. Perhaps it was all the space travelling? He had not travelled this far before; there was always the possibility that he just needed to rest…

[Aelosia]

The Gathering

Thirty-five minutes later by galactic standards, the elevator returned with a strange venting, hissing sound to the cargo bay, and within it Sorschasta, now not wearing her armour or her flight suit but a white traditional elven [img=http://smg.photobucket.com/user/Aelosia/media/sindarinfemale.jpg.html?sort=3&o=201]attire[/img]. For sure she had some sort of personal lodging upon the bridge, the area of the ship that seemed to be denied so far to the rest of the partners of the company.

Nor she was alone. Inside the elevator, which barely fitted four humanoid-sized persons, (and that would struggle to fit both the Charmagnan and the Tauran at the same time, for example), were two tripod spider droids, no larger than small dogs, that scurried around the legs of the formally dressed elf with clinking and chirping sounds.

As Sorschasta left the elevator, the spiders glanced around at the newcomers, chirping and hissing around, their attitude similar to scared and surprised cats, although there was a measure of amusement as they pranced around.

"I'm ready for the gathering to take place", said the elf signalling towards the space appointed for that task in the middle of the bay. As the droids kept coming and going, and before anything less pleasurable would take place, she decided to explain. "Those two are Ungoliant Class Service Spider Droids. There are four in total aboard. They handle a lot of tasks for both the ship and its crews. They take care of the organoponics and hydroponic harvest, refilling water and food containers, the maintenance of the engines, automated systems and minor, common repairs. Also control auto landing and taking off sequences when I am not around. They were the ones who opened the ship for us, so to speak. They will also take care of you, in a manner of speaking. They will be in charge of keeping the place tidy, picking up residues, doing your laundry, dishes and any minor task you can order them to, as long as they are programmed for it. One of them actually brushes my hair if I want it too, they are full of surprises. I might have to say that harming them is exactly like harming the ship itself, so it is not advised to do so or to treat them in a harmful way. I'll respond in the same way as if you shot a hole in the hull". As she spoke, the two robots sprinted on their tripods towards the lounging area and started to rub themselves, in a very cat-like way, against the legs of Miriel who was sitting in one of the Flexseats.

Sniggering, the elf also walked towards the place, looking at Miriel as the droids chirped in delight. "I think they recognize who might take care of them easily. This litter have been with me for years, but they seem to have pleasant memories of your kind somehow. I think they were crafted using Hisen technology. Who knows? Maybe even a Hisen made them". She looked at one of the robots and made a playful gesture of eating and drinking. Both robots chirped and left scuttling on their tripods towards the kitchen area.

"They'll be back with refreshments for everyone", said Sorschasta smiling, before taking a handful of steps in front of the holoscreen in the farthest wall of the gathering area. "Are you all ready? Did you find the accomodations fitting? Do any of you have any complaints or questions to be answered?", said the elf as the beckoned the rest of the Company to that area. She produced a dataslate from a pouch and slid it in a plug seemingly designed for it. The holoscreen came to line, displaying a 3D hologlobe in the middle of the upper part of the room with the starsector map on it. "Because we need to discuss contracts", finished Sorschasta as she waited for everyone to come.