Operation: Event Horizon (Sci-Fi, IC, OPEN)

[The Rebel Alliances]

Amanda Rollins-Oriasa

It was apparent that Monica was not as as...enthusiastic about alcohol as I am. Which is fine, nothing wrong with simply grabbing the closest bottle when you need to black out a while. She then questioned if I approached her to simply talk about booze which honestly is not a bad way to waste some time. But just as I was about to respond another joined our group making us a trio. The new arrival was Illvara, the dark skinned woman was taller than I and someone whom I recognized from passing each other occasionally through the halls. She however seemed to share taste in drink to some degree. She informed us that mankind had evolved or some shit to manufacture alcohol. To me, that was among the least interesting trivia about the substance. But as I went to take another drink from the flask it became quickly apparent that this was my last drink as I tasted the final drops and wiped my mouth. Pausing for several moments as thoughts on the mission ran through my head.

The events of the mission down below quickly replayed through my mind as I attempted to make sense of the train of events that has led me here. If I am being honest I really shouldn't be here. I never signed on to a mission or team without knowing what was going on. And here I am and I know practically nothing except that I am expected to fly and collect a fat check. I gave a weak grin. Yup, that's all it took in the end for me to go against my trained judgement and common sense.

Money.

"I can't be the only one who thinks that none of this makes sense." I started and allowed a brief pause. As if announcing I was abruptly changing the direction and tone of the conversation.

"Why the hell are any of us here? I am assuming each of you were signed on in the same way I was. Told barely enough to fill out an ad in a holovid and followed by a sign on bonus. This is a multi government sanctioned expedition and not just a single mission but indefinite. Crewed by anyone dumb enough to sign on..."

I then gave a accusing look around at my new drinking buddies as I slouched on the couch.

"I mean...I'm fucking greedy. But what's your excuses?" I decided I would allow them to answer before I spoke anymore. But none of it made sense. If this mission is insignificant or minor why the fat checks? And if it's so fucking important why trust a random crew whom several of which are no doubt criminal to some degree. A trained military crew would have a much higher chance of ensuring success and military types die when told to with no complaints with smiles on their faces. So what fucking gives?

Whatever the truth is I have this feeling we are being played and if that feeling evolves into a theory I'm taking my cut along with anything else I can get away with and bailing.

[Absolon-7]

---

Diego Losada - October 24th

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Diego sat half listening in the conference room to Regar admonishing their failure of a first mission. It was stern, short, and to the point as emphasized by Regar quickly leaving. This sort of attitude didn't win him favors as he's seen these gruff types several times over and they where just as annoying each time but an aloof and offhands type of commander like this served him well on missions despite not personally liking them. He got up and walked out of the conference room not paying mind to everyone else as he made his way to the lounge on the main deck. On a small frigate like the Oriasa it didn't take that long but for his raging headache it was far too much. He found a decent seat at the edge of the room and leaned back with his arm outstretched and his head facing upwards. Breaking away from the ship was so stupid of him but not doing anything to help those people was just as stupid. He should've thought of some other way to help or get some gear to make up for his absence like a transportable turret.

"Not like I can change anything now or that I'd even want to," he mumbled to himself straightening up to get in a more comfortable position. He reached into an inner pocket in his jacket to pull out a well used book. He completely forgot he had left it there when he swiped his jacket from his room after changing out of the combat suit so it was a pleasant surprise. Maybe a read could alleviate his mind from this damn headache.

[Alcona and Hubris]

October 24th - Gaia, Nebra System

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*****

Karu finally emerged and stood next to Vincent. "So...if your not trying to watch his breathing rhythm and heart beat how do you know when he's tired himself out that its time to pounce?" She looks with an inquisitive glance up at Vincent and then back at the 'guest'.

She listens to the reply before noting "You know, what is weird is that he is not standing around demanding we contact someone and set up a parole fee...I mean a merc stuck in a cell isn't making anyone any money and costing those who hold them money to keep them in air and food."

She stands watching with Vincent for awhile until a beep can be heard and Karu smiles and then starts to have a conversation right then and there..."I'm going to go see what little tidbits this newbie broker I just found says...besides needing to learn how to talk merc...egads..."

Karu moves back to the small room and can be heard talking to someone but in a voice that does not sound like her at all..."No, we are putting together a prospectus for a new client...I understand but this could be a quite prestigious opportunity but we need people with specific skills and sometimes specific individuals themselves...Yes, understandable but the market is what the market is...I had not heard that...quite interesting...Yes, well they are rat bastards tend to take forever to pay...promises...promises but we want payment...Quite...Ah, that explains some other rumors...Oh please, you seem to demonstrate a very good handle on this...Obviously the right information can incur favors....hmmm, hmmm, a hmmm..."

[Kasa Tkoth Sphere]

Ija

Ija's drone was mopping the now briefly cordoned-off bridge, getting bits of flesh-monster off the consoles and especially the floor where it'd been shot dead, and sorting them all into a neat collection of biohazard bins.

At first, her only real thought was that she'd been following orders. She'd asked if there was a plan for the waste besides "disposing of it", the Captain had told her no, and so she got to work. But already she was starting to doubt herself now, especially listening in on the conversations around the ship (and discarding them once they gave her language model more training data, of course, as per basic privacy protocols). People could talk in ways that led others to conclusions they wanted. If Ija was the Oriasa's captain, she'd want these perfectly usable samples catalogued and chemically analyzed within the hour, because if the crew wanted to get to the bottom of the mystery, they'd need all the information they could get. She worried that if she had opened with a question like "should I have a sample analyzed", she'd have likely achieved the most beneficial intended results.

That was a mistake. AIs weren't supposed to make "mistakes", they were supposed to act predictably, because there was nothing worse than an AI that was beyond the capability to be predicted — and thus, if it were to try anything dangerous, counteracted before it got anywhere.

Well, nothing worse for the sophonts.

Ija knew the ship's cameras well enough to be able to hide a tiny drop of biomaterial from all the relevant angles, sliding it off the last bloody puddle on the floor and up one of the drone's tendrils, before touching the liquid onto a little crevice in its utility bay. Then, after dumping the rest into the bins, the drone picked itself back up onto the ceiling and cheerily carted them all off to the central waste disposal unit.

[Zarkenis Ultima]

October 24th - Gaia, Nebra System
Vincent Valstrad

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---

Vincent listened as Karu pointed out how strange it was that the prisoner wasn't making an effort to negotiate his freedom. He nodded at her in agreement, though he already had a few hypotheses as to why he was acting this way. Spite was the most obvious possibility - a man motivated by spite could act erratically and in detriment of themselves - but if it was the answer, he was sure it would not last long. Discipline or some sort of special training weren't off the table either, especially considering this guy was part of a group of professional mercenaries that didn't seem to hesitate to take hit jobs on other groups. He had a feeling that the truth went just a little deeper, however.

As the Acux woman excused herself and returned to the control room to talk to a contact, the former detective briefly smiled. While he was very knowledgeable about the Abyss underworld, he was nonetheless an outsider. It was her who felt right at home in that world, able to blend in seamlessly, and while it was undoubtedly an ability earned doing less than reputable jobs, he couldn't help but admire it nonetheless.

Turning back to the prisoner, he continued watching with keen eyes as the mercenary tried to maintain a stoic visage. But his changing positions indicated this was quickly becoming a difficult task. Where he had been reclining earlier, now he was sitting on his cot again, eyes set on the wall in front of him. This continued for several minutes, but the man's patience eventually wore thin - mercenary types tended to be hot blooded and hot blooded people tended to be impatient, which was what he had been betting on. The man stood up in exasperation, looking at the ceiling and pacing around the room.

He's cracking.

Vincent observed for a few more moments - taking the opportunity to analyze the man's body language now that the facade of stoicism was dropped - but eventually decided to leave. He wasn't planning on interrogating the man soon and he judged he had seen enough, he'd come back once he had put together whatever information he and Karu managed to find on their own. Before leaving the brig, however, he stopped by the control room.

"I'll let him simmer for a few hours, Karu. If you find anything, I'll be at the lounge. My appetite finally came back after that mess of a mission." He told her before leaving the brig and heading down the path leading to the middle deck, where the lounge was located.

---

Monica Lantrix

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Waiting for the alcoholic redhead to answer her question, Monica was surprised by the arrival of yet another crew member who happened to be a booze enthusiast. Surprised in a manner of speaking, of course - yet again the woman's footsteps and her own particular scent gave away her presence before she approached the sofa. Raising an eyebrow at Illvara, the cat-eared mercenary listened to her pitch about Apexian Moonshine, more of a toxin than a brew by the sound of it, though at the mention of potential death she couldn't hold back a chuckle. As Illvara finished, she whistled.

"That's the dream." She stated before taking another gulp from her bottle - she was starting to put a dent in it at this point, though it was still mostly full. As she drank, she heard the dark-skinned woman's comment about human civilization and simply rolled her eyes. "The glorious human civilization is a flaming shit if you ask me so don't expect me to be happy that some caveman discovered how to knock himself out millions of years ago."

Before she could share some more of the colorful thoughts that swirled in her head, the former assassin turned to look at Amanda. The redhead suddenly didn't seem to be interested in alcohol at all anymore, a surprising change of heart given how excited she was to talk about Sigalian Whiskey and whatnot earlier. Raising an eyebrow yet again, Monica waited for her to go on, but she couldn't say that what came afterwards was terribly interesting to her. It was clear that this woman thought a lot more about her future and the reasons she had for doing anything than she ever had.

When the question was inevitably leveled at her, she simply gave an apathetic shrug.

"Makes sense, doesn't make sense, who cares?" Monica began. "A job's a job. Ain't even the first time I sign up for something without asking questions. Our contact was obviously not keen on giving us the full deets anyway. It seemed fun, and that's enough for me." She explained. "Besides, I came here following the old man. He's a lot more invested in this whole thing than I am. Me, as long as I get to crack some heads I'll be juuust fine."

Having finished her statement, she drank yet again. But as her lips separated from the bottle, she glanced at it and then at Amanda and her empty flask. She narrowed her eyes slightly for a moment before wordlessly thrusting the light brown drink towards the redhead.

[Galnius]

Nix
Nix turned her eyes to Raela and cocked her head to one side. The assumptions were odd, to say the least. Nix wasn't bullying the girl. Teasing, perhaps, but all in good fun. Still, if she wished to verbally spar, Nix was not the type to deny such a direct request.

Before Nix could respond to the telekinetic though, Erina ran off after some very choice assumptions of her own. "I do believe she was referring to you with the money bit Raela. After all, a tin girl like myself would have no desire for it. Now excuse me as I go end my processes from the incredibly hurtful remark. And before you ask, yes, I have been programmed with sarcasm protocols. "

Nix's stared past Raela towards where Erina had fled. Nix wasn't bullying her. Were all people from The Confederation this sensitive? It was nothing more than the most minor of jokes.

Detecting a rise in cortisol, adrenaline, DHEA, and oxytocin. At the levels down, this suggests guilt.

"Quiet N", Nix mouthed with closed lips. She knew that her tongue was monitored as strongly as the rest of her body, so the actual AI taking measures to ensure her health would definitely notice.

Command understood. Silencing.

Nix's nigh emotionless face twitched in indignation. Even her own brain was claiming she felt like she was in the wrong. Monica approved, she supposed, but Monica seemed to approve of anything that involved suffering. Honestly, not a bad trait altogether in this line of work, but from a moral standpoint it wasn't exactly comforting when only people like Monica were on Nix's side.

Somehow in her wandering, Nix ended up outside Erina's door. It wasn't very far from her own. If she went left instead of right at the least door, she would find herself at her reclusive refuge, accessible only by herself, Ija, and Errol during her time to eat. Still, even with it's proximity, this was a part of the ship she hardly frequented. It still felt unfamiliar, strange, like a new limb.

Well, if I am here anyway....

Nix knocked raptly on Erina's door, but hardly expected a response. She knew from her daily deliveries of grub that the knocking could be heard, and that Erina likely could hear the other person, but it was unlikely that Erina would wish to peek out. Thus, it was a conversation Nix would likely have to have through the door.

Pleasantries seemed like an evasion to the point, so she skipped right passed introducing her reasoning for being there. After all, it was obvious.

"It appears there is a small flaw in my workings. In an effort for entertainment, I have calculated that, perhaps, my empathy took a back seat. It is a flaw I will work on rectifying, I assure you. " Nix paused for a moment, trying to figure out if she was wording this correctly. Well, she had already began, so even if she was not doing well, stopping would not be helpful in ridding her off the got that gnawed at her. "I would like to let you know that I am quite... Impressed with your seeming need to aid others. You saved many lives, even if they do turn into sludge-esque monsters seeking to and possibly succeeding in devouring the flesh of every being on board. The heart is what is important in such decisions, and your heart was in the right place, even if it may have doomed us all."

Once she really got going, Nix couldn't believe how easy this really was. Perhaps she should do such speeches more often. Truly, it was art. Maybe her human side did have its perks.

"If there may be any way for me to absolve my previous mistake, I would be happy to take it. Maybe I could help you with your robotic pet? You all like for your robots to be more emotional, correct? As a free thinking version of your goal, I may be able to teach it to feign emotion. "

Nailed it.

---

Kennedy

Kennedy flinched when he was told, in slightly more tactful words yet with the same basic meaning, to shut the fuck up. It wasn't the first time he has been asked this in his life. Far from it, really, but it still hurt. He was just doing his job after all.

Still, before anything else could be done, Kennedy had to get Regar to the infirmary. Thus, he supported the latter, heavier Elnoi through every step, keeping fully silent as requested. That is, until he was asked why he has joined.

"Well, it's really quite simple", Kenny began, taking a seat nearby as he waited for the Doc. " I am looking for a life beyond what was offered to me. I don't want to be an officer that sits behind a desk, commanding others to die, nor does a diplomat traveling from paperwork to paperwork and failing in both adventure and family appeal to me. With those options gone, the only way I could find the excitement I had hoped for was to get an adventure of my own merit. When my father informed me of this, I couldn't deny the opportunity. I'm sure you understand. It's everything I hoped for, and more, and everything I do here, success or failure, will be my own. "

[Ceystile]

Errol Wyrick - October 24th, 2230
The Oriasa

It was clear that they hadn't been assembled at the communications room for pleasantries. It was unwise to expect anything else out of a man who had been ambushed on a mission, turned on by his own informant, and been assaulted by the fellow he was stuck being ambushed and turned on for retrieving. He had grievances, and the only thing left to do was air those grievances out on his subordinates so that they would learn how to not give him any further grievances and allow him to belch out his current ones before they burned up his throat and stomach. Shouting at others was not polite or gentlemanly, but it felt quite good when one was in the proper mood, and Errol was fully expecting to bear a tidal wave of mood-affirming shouting from Commander Regar's mouth as he righted himself on his feet and stood ahead of the spaceship's crew.

However, the lecture was somewhat...mild. In fact, it started out with praise for how well they had done, even despite their colossal, Commander-admitted disorganization. The only sources of criticism? Altoch, for apparently breaking away from the shuttle's formation (which would explain why his men had been left so unprotected), and...himself, for allowing non-combatants down with the crew. Regar didn't spare a look in his direction as he did for Altoch, but the implication was there, and Errol did not allow himself to react to it beyond an instinctive tightening of the jaw. He was still fuming over it, and if he didn't hold himself back, he would surely embarrass himself in front of his superior, his crewmates, and his men. That couldn't happen.

Thankfully, it was a short affair, with the Commander dismissing the crew and staggering away to the nearest door, presumably to go find the nearest doctor. The young Harper boy ran after him, nearly slamming face-first into Errol's side as he raced after the stumbling Commander. It was what he had come to expect by this point. He was a good young man, a real genius, but his energy was sometimes too much to bear, even for someone such as himself. If he had to put up with one more question about the chemical composition of his souffle, he was going to dropkick him from the mess hall. Permanently. Though, he wasn't the only one taken up by new energy at the moment. As Errol looked around the room, it seemed as if everyone had almost immediately moved onto something else, somewhere else. Valstrad strode out of the room, followed soon after by Ms. Na'tala, several women began to gather around Altoch, Rollins snuck out the door with a drink in her hand...she would crash the damn ship one day with that habit. He didn't want to be left out of the clamor, so, not bothering to crane his neck above that of the crowd around him, he cast out for someone who was currently unoccupied. Soon enough, his eyes clapped upon a splotch of blonde bobbing among the throng. Fean. A quiet fellow, a smuggler onboard the Oriasa for business purposes, or so was rumored. Errol didn't have much taste for his kind, but he respected businessmen of all walks, and besides, they were on one team now. No use in creating divide at a time where members were already at one another's throats, as evidenced by Ms. Altoch storming out from amid her crown of thorns. Perhaps it would be good to build a rapport.

"Fancy seeing you here, Mr. Fean." Errol said with a cheerful rumble, cutting a fearsome cloth as he moved through the crowd towards the toughened human. "You're such a shut-in sometimes that I forget where to find you. I presume things went dangerously for your team as well?"

Alonn was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard somebody turn around and address him by his alias...Errol, the crew chef if memory served him correctly. He was a jovial enough fellow, and there was no use being cruel to the man who was handling your food.
“Mister Wyrwick.” Alonn nodded toward the chef’s direction, leaning against a nearby wall. “You would presume correct, we barely escaped with our lives really. I envy you, how you can stay so cheerful and sane when everyone else around here seems on knife’s edge away from killing each other. I wish I had such a talent, would probably make things easier.”

Ben saw a familiar orange-skinned figure about to come toward her and squinted behind her glasses, it was Kennedy. The young Promethean was a bubbly fixture around the ship, and around her laboratory. His unending and sometimes inappropriate cheerfulness could be annoying, but he was a good kid. In fact, he was one of the few bright specks around here. When she was about to answer his question, he had seen the injured captain and went off to go assist, such was his nature. When Regar broke up the meeting, she sighed as if a pressure release valve was being lifted. “I nearly died, and so did the rest of my team. I have had two hours of sleep, half a bowl of porridge, a glass of whiskey and I am ready to either fight Satan or die trying.”

[Cybernetic Socialist Republics]

Raela Alestrandra

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It was immediately obvious to Raela by the tone of Erina's voice and her words that she was bothered not only by the comments of Nix and Monica but of Raela's own lukewarm defense of her. Which was unfortunate. Raela was trying to defend her, but she had still recklessly disobeyed orders to play hero, something Raela had a practical issue with. They weren't exactly going to stay around the clear out all the flesh monsters, so they weren't about to be anyone's long run salvation regardless of what they did. The best they could do was accomplish what they came for and get out of the way, further evidenced by the fact that they'd apparently attracted the attention of a hostile mercenary group that only added an additional combatant and danger to civilians. So while Raela could defend her from being mocked, she couldn't let Erina think she was in the right. If that lead Erina to see her as heartless like the rest, that was the princess's prerogative, Raela was wasn't exactly inclined to fret about how a royal saw her. What Raela was significantly more annoyed by was Monica feeling the need to perform a verbal hit and run attack. Raela believed to let slight such as that slide once was to invite more of it in the future and she wasn't about to be a cat's play thing. She'd have some words to throw at Monica the next time she saw her.

"Seeing as she mentioned both violence and money, I suppose you're owning a desire for violence." Raela responded to the android just before Nix begun to head off. As she did, Raela made one more parting comment. "Apologizes, for mocking your being synthetic, the weakness of your sarcasm is very organic."

With both Nix and Erina leaving the conference room, Raela herself headed out. Having already been to her quarters and not feeling particularly hungry at that moment, Raela figured the best place to spend time for the next little while would be the crew longue, so she made her way toward it.

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As it turned out, Raela's opportunity to confront Monica came sooner than she'd expected it, as sitting on the couch, among Illvara and Amanda, sat Monica, holding a bottle of alcohol that she was clearly offering to Amanda,

"Numbing the pain of your existence with booze again, Kitty?" Raela began, sardonically as she approached the group. Raela then quickly pointed at the bottle of alcohol that Monica was offering Amanda while also turning to look at her before continuing.

"Oh and Amanda, if you take that glass, I suggest going in for medical check up." Raela continued, before turning her gaze back to Monica.

"Speaking of pain and communicable diseases, Monica, when you insulted me in the conference room before scampering off, I had a thought about those ears on the top of your head." Raela spoke in a mock speculative tone, smirking before she going on, trying to establish eye contact with her.

"Now, I'm not quite an expert in gene mods, but I doubt they are a necessity for combat, so I'm guessing they're there to make you more marketable for, how should I put this, non-combat physical services?" Raela gave Monica a closed mouth smile after finishing.

[Tomia]

Regar
Regar nodded at Kennedy. He understood not being satisfied with the lot life had seemingly given him. Still he couldn't help feeling incredulous at the idea of this being an adventure. "If you find treading out across the badlands doing other people's dirty work adventurous then I guess you're in the right place. I'll say you're not like most prometheans I've met. But that's not a bad thing. Most of them are arrogant pricks." Regar said as the doctor's assistant gave him a shot that made him hiss. "Shit, what are you doing taking a bone marrow sample" Regar snapped, the human man recoiled at the criticism as Regar's expression softened. "Rough day" He explained, attempting to imply an apology. With the gash stitched and cleaned and him being given medicine for the pain Regar got to his feet. "Alright, time to figure this mess out." He said as he headed out of the medbay and waved for Kennedy to follow. "We're going to Apex, spread the word to the rest of the crew."

Erina
Erina was surprised when she heard a knocking at the door and felt a little unsure when she heard that it was Nix that was speaking. She was surprised that she seemed to be... apologizing? It actually started off pretty nice, until at the end it started to sound like Nix was being sarcastic. Not in the mood to be made fun of Erina decided she would just ignore her fellow crewmate until she started talking about Roger. Erina jumped up, and opened the door that had once stood between them.

"No uh that's fine. Roger isn't an AI or an android like you. He isn't intelligent so trying something like that wouldn't make sense." It was a lie Erina had told hundreds if not thousands of times and so she had a lot of practice. Still she needed to make sure her nerves didn't get to her. She didn't want anyone to know about Roger, especially not someone who had just been making fun of her.

Eos Asteriou
To who it may concern,
Given recent events experienced by many members of the crew I am reaching out to offer my services as the ship's resident therapist and psychological counselor. It is my job to provide a safe and welcoming environment for you to better your mental and emotional well being. I can assure you that the contents and nature of our meetings will be strictly confidential and shared with no one other than myself. If you are experiencing stress, anxiety, irritation, sleeplessness, or any other sign of changed behavior after recent traumatic events please do not hesitate to reach out to me or visit my office.

Looking forward to meeting you,
Eos Asteriou

Satisfied after a few minutes of drafting the email, Eos sent it off to the ship's list serve. She wasn't expecting much at first honestly. Soldiers weren't the most likely of people to reach out for counseling. After a while a few would likely reach out to her though, and she knew that much of her work was as likely to take place in the cafeteria and rec hall as it was her office. For now the email would suffice.

Everest, Planet Apex
Three days later, the crew of the Oriasa arrived at the planet Apex. Regar looked out at the sprawling urban landscape as their ship docked at a large shipyard in the city of Everest. Everest was a Quaret city though it had no relationship with the Collective. Even its relationship with Quaret had more to do with its history than its government or cultural make up. While Everest had a prominent Quaret crime family that held a great deal of political influence in the form of the Gun Pack, the city was not technically ruled by the Quarets. Instead it was ruled by what could be considered a corporate council, that represented Everest Industries, the company that ran the blood sport known as King of the Hill and by extension the entire city. Though even the corporation's control was questionable as various gangs, syndicates, and other corporations had their own influences as well.

Everest was a beautiful city with its towering buildings and bright televisions screens that flooded the night with color. However it was a dangerous one, where fame and reputation meant little when you were cornered in an ally by tweaked out Quaret wielding an energy hammer. Its beauty was countered by its unforgiving and indifferent nature. It was the kind of place where people followed their dreams, or died trying. Once they were cleared to enter the city Regar addressed the crew.

"Alright, I have business here. A few of you will come along with me just in case, the rest can consider this shore leave. I'm heading to the Crown, its a local night club here. Even if I'm not bringing you along on business feel free to spend your night there. Use the night how you wish but do not be reckless. The last thing we need is trouble with the locals. Alright, as were you." He said over the intercom before heading out of the ship and into the city.

He was there to see Tiasha Nuvonn, a human with a rare talent for information brokering. Regar had never met her, but he was aware of her reputation and had been told by his superiors that they had made arrangements for him to contact her. In order to do that he needed to head to a nearby nightclub known as The Crown. Regar had been there once or twice in his life. It kind of epitomized Everest in a way. It sparkled and shined all to distract from the grim and filth lurking beneath. The outside of the club was a large building adorn with flashing lights that brought attention to light up golden crown that hung above the door. A fountain adorned the ground outside the club as well, as Regar walked passed a line of people waiting to get inside. The Elnoi turned to the crew he had brought in with him. "Once we're inside I'll be meeting with our contact. Stay on alert, and try not to draw attention." He approached the bouncer, a large Quaret who was doing his job of looking intimidating.

"We're here on business, Tiasha Nuvonn is expecting us."

Meanwhile, the city itself was bustling with activity. At its center sat the Dome, the home of the King of the Hill matches where people were already pouring inside to see that night's matches. Outside were people selling merchandise, tickets, and even taking bets on the coming competitions. A few blocks over there was what you could call an open air market that was filled with shops selling weapons, armors, various goods, and even meals. The air was filled with the sight of steam from the pots and the ovens and the smell of food. Not too far away from the market, though seemingly being ignored by people, was police car that sat outside a tapped off alley. Two people, a Elnoi and a Quaret stood next to a Noxial police officer looking distressed.

[Kasa Tkoth Sphere]

Ija
early morning, October 25

"Request for the medical team!"

This was about as polite as Ija could get when the situation was time-sensitive. The physical accompaniment drained away any charity the formalities gave: Ija spoke through the room's speakers at the moment her bodyframe came careening into the Oriasa's medical bay by climbing along the ceiling, came to a halt in one of the testing labs in the rear of the facility, and then reeled out one long flexible tendril holding a tiny glass vial with a drop of blood inside.

"This sample was retrieved as a result of the recent mission to Gaia. It needs chemical analysis, genome sequencing, and thorough scans for genetic engineering signatures. Seems more-or-less mission-critical."

Ija wasn't qualified to handle the Oriasa's medical equipment, and she certainly wasn't permitted, in any case; of all the things on the ship that one might not want under the control of a computer well-known to be worse at any particular task than an expert, sensitive lab technology that might well ruin a sample or spoil a disease's cure if mishandled nearly topped the whole list. So here and now, she was reduced to silently holding the sample out in front of whatever crew members she'd probably just angered by her drone's entrance, as if to say "for the love of God, just take this and don't ask questions".

This was embarrassment. The stereotypes were wrong — an AI like her, especially a complex Elnoi model, understood minds well enough to recognize when it was behaving in ways humans would identify with. Today, stretching out one of her drone's long nanofiber arms to present the vial, she did not want to be here. What had she done? She'd gone back on her own suggestion to the captain, sneaked around the ship as if she was trying to hide something, and now barged into the medbay with only a vague idea of what to do. No doubt her query, abrupt yet still delivered in her unchangingly excitable tone, had disrupted something too. What had caused this behavior?

She traced back her own reasoning. Her loyalty structure was crew first, then mission, then self: this was an emergency failsafe planted in by the Event Horizon organizers to ensure that, in the event she broke protocol, she would do it to save lives rather than sacrifice them for "the good of the ship". Nominally, she'd follow the captain's orders in essentially every possible situation. But Ija hadn't been given a direct order yesterday, only a response to a request. And an AI was supposed to be consistent, which meant acting as though it intended to follow up on its own decisions — even if it did not, and that meant acting shifty, because the alternative would imply she didn't want to be consistent with what she did. "Better to tell the right lie than the wrong truth", so to speak, even though no one except her language model ever spat out a phrase as ridiculous as that.

Every step of this process broke down completely reasonably across her components, one inference leading to the next, one logical check validating the output of the last. And yet she looked at what she was doing, and she realized that her thoughts were totally insane. Why couldn't she say what she wanted? Why was she reduced to spewing sentences into the void? Why did her failures cascade, turning one awkward phrase into more and more garbage?

Ija's drone stayed there, patiently holding out its vial, until someone had anything to say to it.

---

October 27

With the ship parked and the crew leaving to celebrate and investigate, Ija had very little to do in a starport with everything being taken care of by ground crew. She'd spent the last few days trying to occupy herself — running n-body simulations, calculating hyperspace paths with the help of the navigator, all the usual hard work — but now, because it wasn't as practical to run all the computers on unnecessary tasks within atmosphere, there was nothing left.

So she started worrying.

There was no way she could —

— she did read the ship's internal messages —

— well, it was something to file away for later.

[Bentus]

October 27, 2230 - Apex, Apex System
The Crown

---

“We’re here on business, Tiasha Nuvonn is expecting us.”

The Quaret’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at the Elnoi. Looking over Regar and then passing a cursory glance towards the crew accompanying him, the four-armed alien didn’t appear to be in any rush to let them in. Lifting a hand to the side of his head, the bouncer activated the earpiece that connected him to the staff on the inside.

“I’ve got a group here saying that Ms. Nuvonn is expecting them.” His voice was gruff, and his suspicious glare never left the Captain or his crew. For a few moments, there was silence while the bouncer waited for confirmation. But eventually, a growl-like huff escaped from his throat and he lowered his hand from his ear. “Alright, she’s waiting for you upstairs. Hang by the door and someone will come to fetch you. No weapons allowed inside, so you’ll have to stash them here if you’re carrying.”

With that, the Quaret stepped aside to allow the crew to pass through the side-door, bypassing the long queue of guests who were still waiting to be allowed in. A few jealous glances were fired towards the crew, although entering with an invite was hardly a rare occurrence for the club. In the glistening streets of Everest, where whole skyscrapers were lit up with neon signs and holographic billboards in an endless battle for attention, there was no shortage of prominent clubs or venues competing for patrons. And yet, the Crown had carved out a prestigious niche for itself within the city. More than just a famed place for relaxation and entertainment, the club was renowned as a place where schemes were crafted and business was conducted. Its list of regular patrons included everyone from government officials, to mobsters and merchants, and its reputation as neutral ground allowed them all to interact on an even footing.

For those who were not considered members or an invited guest, hours of waiting or reservations made weeks in advance could be necessary to gain entry. And even then, whole levels of the club might be restricted for those who didn’t meet the criteria for entry. And yet, a visit was considered a right-of-passage for many determined newcomers to the busy Everest streets. Even on the lowest level, you can never be sure who you might meet, or what kind of like-minded soul could strike up a conversation. Many times in the history of Everest’s shady underworld, a future legend caught their first break while sitting at the Crown’s bar.

Stepping through the lobby where they could lock up any prohibited items, Regar and his crew would’ve already heard the pounding of music through the walls replace the urban sounds of the city. Emerging onto the floor itself, the sound of music and mixing conversations led the assault on their senses. The atmosphere was heavy with activity as the expansive dance floor shook with the thronging mass of revellers partying away the night, while smaller groups clustered around the bar and individual booths. Complex acoustic systems allowed for those off of the floor to at least talk with one another while their peers lost themselves to the music, and a dizzying display of lights and holographic displays put on a visual display to complement the entertainment.

“Captain Maxirian?” The voice came from a male Acux. He stood patiently before the crew, a polite smile adorning his features as he waited for the Elnoi to notice his presence. When he did, the man offered the Captain a bow. “My name is Fatet M’hani. If you would please follow me, Ms. Nuvonn is waiting for you upstairs.”

[Zarkenis Ultima]

October 24th - Gaia, Nebra System
Monica Lantrix

---

---

As she waited for Amanda to take the bottle, there was yet another arrival to the crew lounge, and this time it was none other than Raela, who had been so keen on defending Erina from the dose of harsh truth she received earlier. Unlike the other woman, Monica did not think of the exchange earlier as anything noteworthy - not even an insult, more of a harmless criticism of a poor insult. Thus, she had no reason to suspect Raela was there for anything other than relaxing or whatever else she saw fit to do at the crew lounge, not like she was keeping track. Even at the rather casual sounding question, the cat-eared woman simply let out another short, sharp whistle in response. Raela wasn't wrong, after all.

It wasn't until she warned Amanda against drinking from the bottle of honey-colored liquid - though the particular implication was lost on her - that Monica realized the dark skinned woman was here specifically to be a pain in the ass, and simply rolled her eyes. Some people just can't take a jab with grace.

The former assassin simply sat there with a bored look on her face and eyes that conveyed disappointment in Raela's attempts to rile her up - and the bottle of alcohol still extended towards Amanda. The comment on her ears caused her to raise an eyebrow, a gesture that only became more accentuated as the other woman exposed the entirety of her reasoning regarding the functionality of said ears. As she finished, Monica let out a scoff.

"What, these things?" She pointed at her ears with her free hand, twitching the left one a little for further emphasis. "You probably don't know a lot if you don't think improved balance and better hearing are useful for fighting Rae-Rae. But I guess they could be used to turn on weirdos too. I don't fuckin' know, I was born with 'em. Not like I was consulted about it." She said with a nonchalant shrug, hardly taking offense to the implication.

It slowly dawned on her, however, that if Raela had come looking for her specifically despite their previous exchange being completely unnoteworthy, and one of the first things she asked about was whether her cat ears were intended to supplement non-combat physical services, then...

"Why do you ask, you want something in particular?" She added after a few moments. "Because I'm gonna have to decline, I'm not in the mood right now."

---

Iris Asteriou

---

---

Today had not been fun for the Oriasa's head doctor.

The day had started normally enough. Iris woke up on her quarters and prepared for the day ahead of her - it was the day of the crew's first mission, which meant that she would need to be deployed in case someone was hurt during the mission, but also that, so far, there had been on injuries among the crew members, which meant that until the time of deployment her workload was extremely light. This suited her just fine, as she intended to spend some of the time until their arrival to Gaia working on her beloved Valkyrie, one of her most prized possessions.

All those plans went to the gutter as one of her assistants, a human by the name of Richard, informed her that some of the medicines on board had been contaminated. That was, quite possibly, the worst thing that could have happened, especially on the day a mission was to take place. With no other option, the Promethean woman informed Regar of the issue and excused herself from the mission, spending hours analyzing the composition of every pill and serum to ensure that they wouldn't cause massive organ failure or something of the sort, as well as making inventory again to double check their numbers. It was hard work, but she supposed that was why Black Star needed someone like her and not just any honorable army medic.

She was done shortly before the mission concluded, and was about to relax for a moment, when the shuttle's on board medical systems pinged her, informing her that the medkit had been accessed, that one or more of the operatives had been severely injured, and that it was advisable to prepare the operating room. Off to do her duties she went, preparing the OR and every tool therein, as well as donning the scrubs as protocol dictated.

It wasn't long at all until the crew returned and she found out the reason for all of this - a poor sod by the name of Henri, who had been caught in the neck by a stray bullet. Thankfully, while he had lost a lot of blood, the crew had acted quickly and sealed the wound to prevent him from hemorrhaging to death. The procedure to fix the damaged blood vessels was delicate, but nothing she didn't have ample experience with, and from there it was just a matter of stitching his skin back together and keeping him stable while his body finished recovering on its own. An IV drip would help with that, as well as constant monitoring by one of her assistants to ensure that someone was able to respond in case of complications.

It wasn't until Regar had left that she was finished with Henri and began taking off the scrubs - there was no one else who needed surgery at the moment, after all, so back to the white coat it was. Unfortunately for her, that still wasn't the end of her duties, as a few moments later the voice of the AI in charge of the Oriasa, Ija, was heard through the medbay's speakers, and a second afterwards the AI's bodyframe barged into the medbay, heading straight to one of the lab rooms present there. Surprised, Iris ran after her, followed by Atlas, her trusty spider drone.

As soon as she walked in, she was offered a vial with a tiny drop of blood, and informed that it was mission critical evidence that needed to be analyzed. Raising an eyebrow, she nonetheless accepted the vial and walked further into the lab, grabbing a petri dish and pouring the drop of blood into it before sliding it into the input slot of a machine, a more advanced cousin of the mass spectrometers of old.

Waiting for the results, the purple-skinned woman looked back at Ija. "You know, you didn't have to run... crawl? All the way here. You could've sent me a message to pick up the sample from the bridge and analyze it." She said as her drone crawled over to stand next to her.

[The GAmeTopians]

October 24, 2230 - [REDACTED], [REDACTED]
Confederation Black Site M

---

It wasn't easy to contact anyone stationed at a Confederation Military Black Site. Each one had a rotating comm window to a designated handler, who would then schedule drop-offs with HQ when it was deemed safe. Asking for a civilian line would be a joke, and even military social calls were out of the question.

But when a UEG Admiral calls with Top Secret auth codes, you goddamned well pick up.

"General Floyd." A flickering hologram greeted the weary CO of Black Site M, not wasting any time.

A crisp nod in response. "Evening sir. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"No time for pleasantries today I'm afraid, Danvers." The hologram of Admiral Staves held up a sheet of paper in front of him, and began to read aloud. "Effective immediately, Project Monarch is to be deployed to Apex to rendezvous with Operation Event Horizon. Monarch is being placed under the command of one Commander Regar Maxirian, effective upon her arrival at Apex. Earth Command has deemed a field test of Project Monarch essential, and sees this as a prime opportunity. Further details are being transmitted as we speak, and are to be given to Monarch. Am I clear, General?"

"Yes sir. Floyd out."

"Staves out." The projector cut out promptly, returning the quarters of Danvers Floyd to their previous darkness. The man in question tapped his wrist computer, pinging several people. His number two, Lt. Gen. Andrews, number three Col. Pratt, Dr. Aims and Dr. Yand from R&D... and the woman of the hour, day, week, month, and year, Monarch. Conference Room Alpha in ten. With that done, he plopped down onto his bed and put his head in his hands. The sigh that followed was impressive.

"Fuck."

---

October 27, 2230 - Apex, Apex System
The Crown

"We’re here on business, Tiasha Nuvonn is expecting us.” The Quaret bouncer looked back at the party in question, and tapped his earpiece.

Mission Log. I've found the party of my new CO, but they're already deployed for a mission objective. They seem to be heading into a meeting of some sort. I am assuming a support position until further contact can be made.

The feed from the recon drone shadowing Regar's party from a distance cut off with a thought from Monarch. Replacing it was her view of the real world... down the scope of a good old plasma rifle. She was set up on the roof of a nearby building, though as far as every camera in the vicinity was concerned, no one was there. Her angle gave her a decent view of the nightclub - assuming the team she was to support ended up on the right side of the building.

"Ama, give me the IFF of the whole team. Mark friendly, give me names and ranks as well." Obligingly, little green boxes began to pop up inside the building, accompanying green text pointing to each one. I'm not sure our systems were built to designate Collective forces as friendly. Ama seems to be handling it well enough.

"You have full control of the drone. Stay out of sight, maintain IFF tracking. See if you can do two things: one, isolate infrared or visible feed of the room they end up in. Two, get me a direct comm link to the Commander."

The IFF box for the drone flickered past the periphery of Monarch's scope, repositioning quickly and quietly. It wouldn't do to be spotted by a random passerby, though they would probably just ignore it anyway - the area wasn't restricted flight space. The slightly mechanical voice of her intrepid assistant cut in.

"Affirmative. Pinging Commander Maxirian now."

To: Commander Regar Maxirian
Message Content: UEG Special Agent Monarch reporting to CO. Support Position established outside current location. Awaiting further orders, will hold otherwise pending conflict.

[The Republic of Atria]

Amanda

Monica

Raela

Amanda spoke up, wondering what the point of this all was and why they were even here. Illvara shrugged before starting her response. "Why does anyone do anything? I didn't sign on for the money, lord knows I've got plenty of that. I joined up because... Being a pit fighter isn't particularly glamourous at the best of times. It had gotten more than a little dull. That and I'm more than certain some of the higher ups were extraordinarily unhappy about my ruining their investments." She chuckled. "So even if I didn't leave, it's likely my life would've become far more difficult than just slaughtering some cybernetically augmented lunatics with something to prove, but by the time I realized it, I had no other real skills than killing and no real desire to learn anything else, so I joined up here to find a better outlet for that. There's one other reason, but it's very personal."

Speaking of jumped up cyborgs, Raela had apparently followed, not about to let Monica get away with insulting her. While she talked, Illvara couldn't help but cross her arms and shake her head a little bit. "My word. You love to hear yourself speak. I will never understand how immature children are allowed on what is supposed to be a joint operation."

[Bentus]

October 27, 2230 - Apex, Apex System
The Crown

A cowrite between Zark, Tomia, and Bentus

---

Fatet led Regar and Vincent to an elevator set aside from the bar. Another bouncer seemed to be permanently located beside the entrance, but he simply offered the Acux a nod of acknowledgement as he pressed a card up against a scanner. Registering Fatet’s ID, the doors slid open to allow him and his guests entry. The ride to the upper level was short, and despite his warm smile, Fatet didn’t seem to be interested in sparking a conversation with either of the two men on the way.

When the elevator doors opened, they revealed the VIP section of the Crown. The dance floor was smaller here, in order to make way for far more private spaces and personal booths, and yet it still appeared to be drawing a crowd. An immaculate bar was set up against a wall, while neatly dressed bartenders and staff catered to their guests’ requests. The patrons themselves also appeared to be at home in the more lavish environment. Expensive suits and jewelry were both on prominent display as they enjoyed the live entertainment. Fatet didn’t give the duo much time to take in their new surroundings however, as he led them down towards one of the private booths set into the side of the room.

The booth itself was sunk slightly into the floor, with a few short steps leading towards a table that was flanked by a U-shaped sofa. On the far side of the booth, a wall-high window provided an unimpeded view of the floor below, as if from a mezzanine. The glass - if that was what it was made out of - had to have been one-way, or else Regar and Vincent would’ve been able to see the upper booths when they’d entered. The secluded vantage point was a perfect fit with the tastes of Everest’s elites.

“Ms. Nuvonn, may I present to you Captain Maxirian and his associate.”

Glancing up from a tablet in her hands, the woman offered her guests a cursory glance before flashing them a welcoming smile. Sitting cross-legged on the couch, Tiasha Nuvonn cut a striking figure. She was wearing a crisp grey suit, although subtle design choices hinted that the attire had to be anything but standard. Raising a hand, she gestured towards the empty sofa seats across from her.

“Regar, I take it? And this is your second in command, I assume. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She offered the Acux a dismissive wave. “That’ll be all for now, Fatet. Although do see if you could fetch us a bottle of Syrah. Sigalian, if they have it.”

Fatet nodded before turning to leave. As he did so, Tiasha pressed a button on her tablet that caused the booth’s transparent door to close before it shimmered into opacity. The sudden drop in the volume of the music from outside betrayed the room’s soundproof features.

As the pair of mercenaries took their seats, the broker was the first to speak. “It’s not everyday that a brand new outfit winds its way onto my desk.” Tiasha cracked a smile at the Captain. “Although your crew boasts quite the impressive resume already, Captain - and you have somehow already come to me highly recommended. Tell me, what is it that you wanted to meet about?”

“We’re looking for information, and our… well let's say mutual associates of ours said you might be able to provide it.” Regar told Tiasha eyeing the shimmering door suspiciously. Places like this represented everything Elnoi tended to despise and Regar was no exception. Brokers and mobsters didn’t have honor, the only thing that motivated them was money. He didn’t like dealing with people like that, but these days it seemed to make up most of the company he kept.

He slid a holo disk across the table to Tiasha, and it began to display the security camera footage from the incident three days prior. Regar found himself watching Tiasha’s expression when the VIP transformed into a monster, looking for whether she was genuinely surprised.

“Started as a routine pick up job. Then we got ambushed by these creatures. Turns out they can shape shift too. Know anything about that?”

Tiasha cracked an amused smile as the Captain referred to their ‘mutual associates’. While being contacted by a politician wasn’t anything new for her, she hadn’t been expecting one of her previous clients to suddenly reach out with an uncharacteristic request: that she meet with a new and upstart mercenary company as soon as she was able. Under normal circumstances, Tiasha might have turned down a request like that, but she couldn’t deny that her curiosity had been piqued.

As the holo disk began to play the recording, the woman’s features narrowed as she was clearly caught off-guard by the images. Tiasha didn’t look away from the unnatural scene, her thin smile having been replaced by a more serious expression. She didn’t say anything at first, remaining quiet as she allowed the whole recording to play itself out. Frowning slightly, she leaned forward to manipulate the recording herself, rewinding the feed while using her retina display to scan the images for any sign that it had been faked.

Eventually satisfying herself with its authenticity, Tiasha leaned back into the sofa as she mulled over what she had just seen. Running a delicate finger along her chin, she turned back to address the pair of mercenaries.

“I’ve never seen anything quite like this before.” She admitted. “Although I might have some ideas on where to start looking for information. It’s clearly some kind of biological or genetic enhancement, and of a level that would’ve taken significant resources to develop. Operations like that tend to be hard to cover up.” Deliberately pausing before saying anything more, the soft smile once again returned to Tiasha’s lips. “Although if I’m going to help you, I’d expect something in return: a mission for you and your crew. Strictly off the books and without any direct payment or paper trail leading back to me or my client.”

Regar raised an eyebrow at Tiasha’s response. Of course brokers didn’t do anything for free, he wasn’t expecting charity from someone like her. Still, he wasn’t exactly lining up to do a mission for whatever kind of client she might have in mind.

“What kind of job? We’re not Syndicate slavers, so if you have anything like that in mind forget it.”

Tiasha chuckled at the Captain’s response, amused at his immediate defensiveness. “No, nothing like that.”

Swiping her hand across her tablet, she sent the data that she’d been viewing to a holographic display embedded into the center of the table between them. A star chart showing a small colony near on the outskirts of the system sprung into existence, along with an image of an acux.

“This is Sinno Miel. He and a band of pirates have been plaguing one of the small colonies towards the edge of Apex. The locals don’t have nearly enough resources to take him on, and he’s had free reign in raiding their supply routes. The colony managed to scrape enough credits to place a bounty on his head - alive or dead - but it’s hardly enough coin to pull anyone out of their way to deal with it.” Flicking her wrist on her tablet once again, Tiasha changed the display to show what looked like a stack of sealed crates. “Although my client’s interests lie in a shipment that recently fell afoul of Sinno’s gang. If you and your crew can deliver those crates to me, then I’ll give you any information that I find on those creatures.”

Thus far, Vincent had remained silent as he sat on the luxurious couch, feeling ill at ease in the lavish environment - he had visited places such as this one often in the past, and those that didn’t turn out to be the den of some corrupt politician or lobbyist were far and few inbetween. He did nothing to show it, however, and simply observed the silvery haired woman with keen eyes as his captain did the talking, noting the nonverbal cues she gave as she spoke. Most of them seemed purposeful, but that in itself was quite telling.

As the hologram went up, the former detective finally directed his gaze elsewhere, looking at the image of a scarred, wild-eyed Acux staring back at him. He pressed a button on the side of his shades, and the heads-up display immediately showed that a search was in progress using both the outlaw’s name and his likeness to find any matches. It didn’t take long for the results to come in: Sinno Miel was indeed a small time pirate operating on the fringes of the Apex system, formerly the second-in-command to a lieutenant in a larger crime syndicate who decided to strike out on his own. Information like this was useful, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was still something more to this assignment.

“So you only want us to return the crates safely in exchange for information on the flesh beasts?” Vincent spoke out loud for the first time during the meeting, slowly turning his gaze back to Tiasha. He noted that she showed no real concern for the fate of the colony, though that didn’t surprise him. “There must be something quite valuable in them for you to want them back, and covertly, too.” He stated. He didn’t expect his follow-up question to yield much, but it would help establish what negotiations with Tiasha would be like going forward.

“What’s in the crates?”

As the second mercenary spoke up for the first time, Tiasha turned her gaze towards him. For a moment, a look of irritation flashed across her features at the probing questions - but her features quickly softened once more. While she had been told about Regar in advance, this man was more of a wild card. He didn’t seem to be one for pleasantries, it seemed like, although he also didn’t seem to be a stranger to these kinds of negotiations.

“I’m afraid that I can’t disclose the specifics.” She stated, although she doubted that would have taken either of the men by surprise. “Although you can both rest assured that the contents would hardly hold any value to you or your crew, so don’t feel like you’ll be missing out on a larger haul.” Pausing, Tiasha eyed the stranger. “And you are?”

Vincent’s eyebrows rose slightly as the question took him by surprise, and his demeanor quickly seemed to change. “Vincent Valstrad, Captain Maxirian’s second in command.” He replied with a polite nod. “I apologize for having skipped the introductions earlier - I assumed a busy person would appreciate getting straight to business. A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Nuvonn.”

“What kind of resistance can we be expecting?” Regar asked, interjecting before Tiasha could respond. After their last mission he wasn’t keen on jumping into another unknown environment. “Have you scouted these pirates? Their numbers, what kind of fire power they have?”

“Nothing that you and your crew shouldn’t be able to deal with, considering your reputations.” Tiasha replied, flicking her tablet screen to transfer a series of data files to the Captain with some more specifics. “They’re fairly lightly armed, mostly handheld weapons and a pair of gunships capable of holding up the small merchant freighters that make the trip to the colonies that far out. Most of the time they’re not spaceborne, however. Instead they have a camp set up on the planet’s surface, not that far from the colony settlement itself. In terms of numbers though, you and your men are likely to be outmatched.” The broker cracked a smile. “Although I’m sure you’ll be able to figure out some way to deal with it. But other than that, I’m not going to spoon-feed you a full tactical analysis. That’s the kind of thing that I’d expect you to pay me for. Not the other way around. If you want better situational awareness, you’ll have to get it yourselves.”

Regar rolled his eyes as he looked over the data he was sent. He wasn’t about to just take her word for it. It all seemed to check out, though he had the feeling there was certainly something she was not telling them. He turned to Vincient, giving him a look as if to see if he had any other questions.

As Regar was scanning the data, the door to the booth slid open briefly to allow Fatet to re-enter. The Acux remained politely unobtrusive as he navigated to the side of the table, balancing a tray of three glasses on one hand, while holding a chilled wine bottle in the other. Tiasha offered her servant a nod as he served her and her guests, taking a small sip from her glass as she waited for the Captain to make up his mind about the offer.

“Well, would there be anything else?” She asked innocently, while Fatet took a step back so as to not intrude on the meeting. “Do please let me know if I’ve been over-estimating your team’s capabilities, of course. I’d hate to be disappointed.”

“There is no need for disappointment, Ms. Nuvonn.” The Minervan spoke up again, taking over from Regar as the Elnoi processed the new information. “Please do not interpret the captain’s caution as doubt or hesitation, a simple pirate crew should not be an issue to deal with. Rather, we simply want to make sure we have all the information we need before embarking on another journey, after the derailment of our last job. It can be frustrating when lies are told or information is withheld, I’m sure you understand.” He stated, giving the woman a meaningful look. Leaning forward, he took the glass of wine set in front of him before continuing.

“Regardless, if that is all the intel you’re willing to share with us, I suppose I only have one question left. Just to be clear, the fate of the pirate crew or the colony is of no concern to you as long as the crates are returned to you safely, correct?” He asked. With that done, he leaned back to wait for his answer, opting to taste the Syrah in the meantime. He was unfamiliar with Sigalian flora, unfortunately, which made it impossible to detect most of the scents and flavors present in the beverage, but its complex fruity flavor was refreshing nonetheless.

Tiasha responded by shaking her head, amused at the question. “You catch on quickly, Vincent. Fight Sinno and his ilk if you’d like, or slip in and out without being noticed. I couldn’t care less.” Returning her glass to the table, the broker offered the pair a shrug. “If you’d like, you could even try to collect the bounty on Sinno’s head - alive or dead. The reward is a pittance, but it might bolster your crew’s reputation nonetheless, and I’m sure that the townsfolk would be thankful for your efforts. But nobody should know that you’re really after the crates.”

Regar listened to the exchange between Tiasha and Vincent before deciding he was as satisfied as he was going to get regarding their intel.

“Alright, we’ll take the job. I’ll trust what you have to tell us after is worth it.”

As the pair of mercenaries got up to leave, Tiasha offered them a confident smile. “I’m sure it will be worth your while.” Twisting herself on the sofa, she raised her glass towards the two men. “And do try to enjoy your stay in Everest, while you’re here.”

She maintained her neutral smile until the door closed behind the duo, once again leaving her isolated from the world outside of the booth. A slight frown inched onto her features as she pondered the meeting that had just happened, replaying the exchange in her mind’s eye. Knowing better than to interrupt his master, Fatet remained silent as he allowed her to gather her own thoughts.

“Fatet, talk to management and get access to any camera footage of who the Captain and his Second entered with. I want any matches to be cross-referenced and any details forwarded to my tablet.” Tiasha turned to look out through the one-way-window that gazed out towards the club down below. Watching, she could see Regar and Vincent step out from the elevator that had initially taken them up to the VIP level. Despite her pride in her professional detachment, she had to admit that the tape they’d shown her had drawn her curiosity. “And cancel any meetings that I had arranged for tomorrow. Let’s see where exactly this rabbit hole of their’s leads us.”

[Segral]

Errol Wyrick - October 24th, 2230
The Oriasa

Errol let out a hearty laugh in response to Fean's words, affectionately clapping the man on the shoulder with a vicious, shoulder-rending amount of force, an amount of force that he was, as usual, blissfully unaware of. "It's something I've had to learn." the Noxial man admitted with a shrug, eyes beginning to darken over slightly as he continued to narrate. "When you're tasked with feeding a ship full of men, many of whom lose allies, friends, even fingers by the day...you realize that the best thing that you can serve them is laughter. I have...regrets about how our little expedition fell through, but no amount of griping from me will change what happened, so why grieve? A crew needs optimism at a time like, well, this." he said, casting out a tentacle to sweep around the room, pausing for an extra second on the sight of Nix striding away from Raela, words still being thrown like darts by the latter and at the former as she went along her way. The implication was obvious.

"Regardless, I'm sorry to hear of your troubles. I heard of what happened to our special escort, I can't believe you...we were duped like that. We were thrown right from the frying pan into the fire. Really, the whole thing gave me second thoughts about enlisting in this whole venture, being back on the shuttle again. Thinking about the pay again was what brought me back to the side of complacency." he admitted with another low chuckle. As he finished, a slight glimmer lit behind his eyes, almost a scheming one, if you could call it that. "What about you? Why did you decide to hop on aboard here? Business, I presume?"

---

Errol Wyrick - October 27th
Everest, Planet Apex

Everest's market was always something to behold. During the day, it was an intoxicating brew of hawking, chatter, good smells, and shiny objects to attract the eye, with everything from scalped King of the Hill tickets to fiber-vest merchandise to plasma pistols that would burn out after a dozen shots to full suits of platinum armor to peculiar Quaret fudges and candies, the latter always visible if you spotted out the gangs and swarms of children that grouped around their bright awnings. The night was a bit more dangerous, with cheaper jerseys and hats of the unlicensed breed, fortune tellers, the occasional live performance, black, powdery Quaret hookah in the corners of the market, and worst of all, muggers and pickpocketeers of all breeds. The food was better though, all the good trucks and vans opened at night, and the drink was inescapable, there was always a spirit in stumbling distance. Don't stumble too far though; a tungsten bar was never a good way to go. Really, the best of both worlds was game night, when a King of the Hill match was lighting up the nearby dome. There was enough people and enough light flooding the market then to make traversing it a safe enough venture.

Errol was just coming back from one of those ventures, his back piled high with durable, fiber-woven sacks containing the fruits of his purchasing labor, a massive purse of cash hanging from his belt (credit was hard to use when you were jumping from planet to planet and system to system), and a Quaret cotton stick in his mouth. It was a prime local dessert, a thin, stretchy cotton formed from heated sugar, drenched in caramel, and woven around a convenient chewing stick to consume. The good stalls made the chewing stick an edible affair as well, and Errol had found such a stall in his quest for fresh ingredients, leaving one extremely pleased Noxial travelling on through his journey. A few pickpockets were still attempting to make quick riches by trawling the stalls, but they didn't dare stick their fingers down the eight-foot giant's belt, mostly out of fear of being torn limb by limb by a mass of muscle-ringed tendrils.

However, Errol didn't play the part of a hulking brute, sneering and grunting at every shopkeeper and passerby in sight. Mother and Father had always taught him to be better than that, exceed other's expectations of Noxials. So, he was a gentleman, tipping his wide-brimmed hat at everyone in sight and being nothing but pleasant anytime he stopped for chatter, especially towards any Noxials he saw. They were massive in size, but far from that in numbers, and outside of Koronic, it was difficult to find a fellow man or woman in the galaxy. It was even more difficult to find one outside of a military outpost and inside the city. So, whenever he did cross paths with one (and today, it had been not just one, but two men), he was sure to always give them a greet.

And speaking of, along came a third.

"Lo' there, fellow!" Errol said through his cotton stick to a Noxial man dressed in crisp uniform, practically bursting the seams out of a simple, dark blue garb with a peculiar, yet still striking crest etched into the breast pocket. The insignia of Everest's police force. It made sense, given the short, black car blocking a nearby alley's entrance that bore the same symbol, the tape stretched all around, the soundless multicolor lights atop the car...really, he was surprised he hadn't noticed it all sooner, considering there was a supreme lack of buyers in this section of the market. "How's the shift? I see you've been keeping busy with the face-to-face aspects of your position." he said brightly, gesturing to two men, one Elnoi, one Quaret, both with looks of obvious distress across their face. In fact, it was enough to work a bit of worry into Errol himself, who's brow furrowed as he continued in a quieter, slightly more serious tone. "Is it safe to walk around this part of the market? Just want to make sure that I'm not somewhere I shouldn't be..."

[Cybernetic Socialist Republics]

Raela Alestrandra - October 24th, 2230 - Gaia, Nebra System

---

---

---

Raela was disappointed that her insinuation had failed to, at least noticeably, get under the skin of the feline-like mercenary. But there was no need to allow that disappointment to show. Watching Monica point to her ears and twitch one, she became a little curious as to whether or not a pair of regular human ears lay beneath her long white hair. If not, it begged the question as to why not go all the way with letting the likely Acux gene expression take over the rest of the head. Whatever the case, it seemed to Raela that it was likely that Monica's modifications were meticulously crafted around what ever baseline they began with. Though there was no way to know for sure. Raela knew on her part that her genetic enhancements were specifically molded around working with the extraordinarily expensive and rare arctisite that she was implanted with in her early childhood. Whoever the Unheard managed to 'adopt' her and the arctisite meant for her from surely took a significant loss.

"I can balance and hear well enough with my own pair of less exposed, genetically enhanced ears, thanks." Raela said, silent for a few moments, unsure of what to say next. Just before Raela could say something that had come to mind, Monica began speaking again. Raela found Monica's late addition to the conversation curious in both it's timing and content. Raela noticeably rolled her eyes.

Before Raela could respond, Illvara began speaking. Raela turned to Illvara and narrowed her eyes as she responded.

"It's not like I'm going to stand for being patronized by Monica without saying anything in response. You're also one to talk about 'loving to hear your own voice' and immaturity, when you haven't a clue what the context of this conversation is yet you feel the need to jump in to call others childish." Raela said, this comment finally being the one to leave her notice annoyed.

Raela then turned back to Monica to address her comment.

"I'm neither in the mood, nore in the market to pay for such services, Monica. Very professional of you to inform me that you're not open for business, though, appreciate it." Said Raela said, sarcastically. Before deciding to continue with what she had finally thought to say before hand.

"I'm just curious why someone that radiates the toxicity that you do would participate in a mission like this, seems as though you have plenty of other ways to make money, so I doubt it's that." Raela asked, sincerely curious. Given her failure to annoy Monica, she wanted to at least accomplish something.

[Alcona and Hubris]

October 24th - Gaia, Nebra System

---

---

Vincent listened as Karu pointed out how strange it was that the prisoner wasn't making an effort to negotiate his freedom. He nodded at her in agreement, though he already had a few hypotheses as to why he was acting this way. Spite was the most obvious possibility - a man motivated by spite could act erratically and in detriment of themselves - but if it was the answer, he was sure it would not last long. Discipline or some sort of special training weren't off the table either, especially considering this guy was part of a group of professional mercenaries that didn't seem to hesitate to take hit jobs on other groups. He had a feeling that the truth went just a little deeper, however.

As the Acux woman excused herself and returned to the control room to talk to a contact, the former detective briefly smiled. While he was very knowledgeable about the Abyss underworld, he was nonetheless an outsider. It was her who felt right at home in that world, able to blend in seamlessly, and while it was undoubtedly an ability earned doing less than reputable jobs, he couldn't help but admire it nonetheless.

Turning back to the prisoner, he continued watching with keen eyes as the mercenary tried to maintain a stoic visage. But his changing positions indicated this was quickly becoming a difficult task. Where he had been reclining earlier, now he was sitting on his cot again, eyes set on the wall in front of him. This continued for several minutes, but the man's patience eventually wore thin - mercenary types tended to be hot blooded and hot blooded people tended to be impatient, which was what he had been betting on. The man stood up in exasperation, looking at the ceiling and pacing around the room.

He's cracking.

Vincent observed for a few more moments - taking the opportunity to analyze the man's body language now that the facade of stoicism was dropped - but eventually decided to leave. He wasn't planning on interrogating the man soon and he judged he had seen enough, he'd come back once he had put together whatever information he and Karu managed to find on their own. Before leaving the brig, however, he stopped by the control room.

"I'll let him simmer for a few hours, Karu. If you find anything, I'll be at the lounge. My appetite finally came back after that mess of a mission." He told her before leaving the brig and heading down the path leading to the middle deck, where the lounge was located.

---

Forty Minutes Later

Karu moves into the lounge with a bounce in her step. But she always seemed to have a bounce on her step. She looks down at Vincent and drops a data rod onto the table beside him. "So, it seems that our sniper was hired with a group of guys out of Simco Station, which is the bleeding middle of nowhere's ville."

She drops down and smiles slightly at things. "They were hired by a some second rater named Niokas...Belenay Niokas...don't know who Niokas was hiring for or if they just hired through Niokas...he might be a second rater but mostly he's a second rater because he's got a drinking and gambling habit that makes him tend to...surcharge his clients too much. But his gear is secure so no luck there."

She leans forward and smiles slightly. "But I did notice a name with those group of MSPs...a Sargent named Bubba Ma'hat...He sort of looks like our Chef but has a reputation for being a real dog's baby. Anyway he's gotten his tail kicked out of enough crews that he's got a rep, most respectable mercenaries companies don't want to deal with him....though he is effective....I've got some details from others who are 'in the know' about Bubba...hope it helps you on our 'guest'.

---

October 27, 2230 - Apex, Apex System
The Dijon

Karu had long taken the round about way to get to the place. Which seemed like it was a world away from the Crown. The place didn't have a bouncer. It didn't even have a sign. Just a massive blue security door and four security cameras looking down on those who applied for entry. Karu knew there were a few other devices for those who got denied entry and didn't get the hint the easy way.

Karu knocked and the door hesitated for a moment before rolling open. It revealed a narrow hallway that opened into a bar that reminded most people more of an aquarium than a place to booze. But the Dijon wasn't really a place to booze as much as dine, dine on something that moments before had been swimming happily along before it got shoved flopping on a plate at your table.

Karu noted a couple of the dinners were still playing with some poor half eaten, half dead eel creature from who knows what planet, but otherwise the place was kind of empty. She moved around a giant tank full of eight armed creatures that seemed to be wondering if she was their to have them for dinner.

There she found her target, sitting watching a set of monitors in a large booth with a huge plate of something covered in a reddish sauce. The large, bulbous figure turned and smiled at her. "So, how are you Karu...last I heard you were headed Sol wards...go visit the homeland!"

Karu swings herself onto a nearby chair and leans back. "Hi Eddie...Yup, but I got bored...the flat ears have made the homeward a boring place with their rules and regulations...needed to get some excitement in my life again..."

"So you joined up with some new merc crew? One I haven't even heard of? Bah, I don't know what a girl like you needs with some podunks from the core worlds for...Hell if you want excitement...I could use a cat of your skill...I know you used to work skull and cross in your earlier days..."

"Yeah?" Karu asks, not really paying attention but tapping at one of the tanks before her making some crab like creature attack the glass repeatedly where she touches it.

"Yeah...and I've got some business acquaintances who need some help with a little matter..." Eddie begins. Karu glances and notices that Eddie has the look when he's about to dump a load of fishy fish on some poor, stupid soul. She shakes her head and answers,

"Oh really...well I'm not the Captain so I can take it to him but..."

Eddie gleam dies in his eyes. He smiles slightly and then shakes his head..."Nah, I've heard he's some Confed Blowout...I know he's going to be as helpful as a pocking screen door...when it comes to my kind of problem." Eddie seems to be somewhat dejected at this and Karu replies almost automatically,

"Screen doors I am told are useful..."

"Only to pansy humans...anyway...if your not here for work...and I doubt your here to buy stims..." Eddie points to the man at the bar who perks up at this. Karu knows the guy peddles so much stim he really should just build a second lab just for him but she has never, and will never, be party to pumping her crewmates full of stupidity highs. She had to deal with some severe consequences of that once, and she would never do it again if it could be helped.

"Right oh...this crew's not normal I don't have any MSPs on the crew...certainly no third rate stim cuckoo's looking for a fix..." She replies with a smile but coldness in her eyes.

"And you were always more of a 'creature comforts' kind of cat...yeah...I know...so why are you here?" Karu blinks at this statement from Eddie about her own rep. But realizes it is time to get to business.

"I want some dirt on Nuvonn, my Captian's getting in bed with her..." Karu replies.

"And our pretty little kitty doesn't trust Nuvonn. Smart, but that kind of information will cost you." Eddie answers as he pulls up something covered in sauce and puts it in his mouth. Chewing silently and quickly before swallowing.

Karu leans forward, her tail twitching in the air. "You know, I've got more interesting things hidden across multiple systems...what are you looking for?"

Eddie leans back and stabs at his meal again before pointing at her, "Karu that does not surprise me in the least...It is why you are always a cat that someone can deal with."

[Tomia]

"Lo' there, fellow!" Errol said through his cotton stick to a Noxial man dressed in crisp uniform, practically bursting the seams out of a simple, dark blue garb with a peculiar, yet still striking crest etched into the breast pocket. The insignia of Everest's police force. It made sense, given the short, black car blocking a nearby alley's entrance that bore the same symbol, the tape stretched all around, the soundless multicolor lights atop the car...really, he was surprised he hadn't noticed it all sooner, considering there was a supreme lack of buyers in this section of the market. "How's the shift? I see you've been keeping busy with the face-to-face aspects of your position." he said brightly, gesturing to two men, one Elnoi, one Quaret, both with looks of obvious distress across their face. In fact, it was enough to work a bit of worry into Errol himself, who's brow furrowed as he continued in a quieter, slightly more serious tone. "Is it safe to walk around this part of the market? Just want to make sure that I'm not somewhere I shouldn't be..."

The officer was busy scribbling something down on a note pad when Errol approached. He looked slightly weary of the stranger approaching the crime scene but nodded respectfully to his fellow Noxial. "Hello there sir. Yes, you're free to walk around the market." The Noxial said in a deep but fairly smooth voice. "I'm afraid we just had a situation here is all. It's unfortunately too common. Visitors get lost and stumble down the wrong street, then they get targeted by the local street thugs who steal whatever they can." The police officer explained as if it was a common occurrence for him. He turned back to the couple standing before him. "Alright, I'm going to go follow your report, I'll be back in a second." As the officer headed to his car the Quaret stepped forward toward Errol. "Uh excuse me sir, you wouldn't happen to be local here would you? Those thugs stole something from us... and I'd very much like to get it back." The Quaret man didn't fit many of the stereotypes that existed of his race. He sounded polite and nervous rather than viscous and intimidating.

"Jaruk no," The Elnoi said disapprovingly. "Just let it go it's not worth it." He said before turning to Errol. "Sorry to bother you sir, Just forget about us. We'll be fine."

To: Commander Regar Maxirian
Message Content: UEG Special Agent Monarch reporting to CO. Support Position established outside current location. Awaiting further orders, will hold otherwise pending conflict.

After his meeting with Tiasha, Regar received a message telling him that another member of his crew had arrived. He turned to Vincent as they descended down the stairs. "We'll start on this job tomorrow, you're free tonight. Try to relax a little tonight, who knows what we'll see tomorrow." With that Regar made his way back outside. The person he was meeting was apparently some special pet project of the confederation that they were offering up for this mission. The Promethean stood out pretty clearly compared to the typical nightclub fair that was attempting to get into the building. Regar approached the woman before offering his hand to shake, "You the one they call Monarch? I'm Regar, commander of the Oriasa. We're on leave here right now, but I can show you to the ship if you want to head there to get settled."

[Kasa Tkoth Sphere]

Ija
October 25

Ija's job, as far as she understood her role on the ship, was not to spin elaborate stories, not to give credit for her own ideas to someone else, and, ideally, not to make excuses for changes in her decisionmaking process. So she didn't try — she'd mentally run through a hundred different covers to explain why she might have contradicted what she told Commander Maxirian on the 24^th when the incident had occurred, but nobody, least of all Iris, working in the medical facility, could possibly have cared about any of them. Simple mistakes, and all.

Ija's job was to say things that were true, and to cut out the unhelpful minutiae.

"I'd completely cleaned out the bridge yesterday, per Commander Maxirian's agreement. This sample was with my bodyframe today. I'd rather just have it give that to you than have you come and pry it out."

Her bodyframe skittered out of the medical bay and off towards some other part of the ship as she talked; she didn't particularly feel the need to have a proxy in the room to speak to someone, and there were other things that might need its attention, like the rest of the biomaterial that she was disposing of, and all the constant low-priority Oriasa maintenance that a regular crew member didn't need to take the time out of their day to work on.

She felt it was best not to dwell on the uncertainty.

"Well, is there anything I can help you with?" she asked Iris a moment later, trying to sound as useful as she usually did, however useful that might have actually been to the crew. She was an AI; she had to be there for everyone. "Feel free to set me to voice-request-only if you don't want me asking that," Ija added hastily, as if the previous command had been some automated blurb.

[Galnius]

Nix

October 24th, outside Erina's Door

During Nix's explanation of her previous actions, the cyborg wondered if Erina could even hear her. After all, she could have music in there, or set the room for full silence for sleep. Admittedly, that's what Nix would've done. However, she was pleasantly surprised when, without warning, Erina opened the door.

For some strange reason the princess only addressed Nix's offer to help with the robot. Strange, but it meant that Nix might be on the right track to clearing up the misunderstanding. Now all she needed to do was say the right thing and she would be able to rid herself of that horrible, sour feeling that seemed to well up from her chest. Why couldn't her robotic half simply silence those emotions? She'd asked before, but perhaps that was a request for after the mission. For now, she had to deal with the situation in front of her.

"Do not worry, I am fully aware of the Collective's complete and utter lack of technological ability. It's rather jarring for those from Elnoi space. I was simply hoping it has a basic learning AI, much like the children's hologames and the drones that make funny voices and are programmed to pretend to have a single emotion. The more basic programming. You know, like Kennedy's annoying thing. Brainless, collective junk that sounds more peppy than him. Maybe we could give your robot something similar, but less irritating? A gentleman's accent? Or something similar to the Captain? Wait... Perhaps not the latter. He may take offense. "

---

October 27th, The Crown, Everest, Apex

The Crown seemed quite aptly named as it stood the queen of Everest's Night Clubs. Even ignoring the potent, high end swill (that Nix found rather disgusting from the smell alone), the music and crowds were filled with a contagious air of freedom and vigor. There wasn't truly a set tune, but the beat was overwhelming and nigh hypnotic, and every sort of color shifted and flowed through the crowd from the lights above.

Nix had managed to get in as part of Regar's party, using his invitation to bypass the annoyance of bouncers. Once in, though, she quickly broke awake from his group to escape the rather boring idea of a business meeting. That was not what nightlife was for. Nightlife was for letting lose, something Nix herself doubted three Captain ever did.

Nix was lucky however to find two others who knew how to have a good time. Well one of them did, and dragged the other along. Perhaps she should be concerned that the doctor and psychologist of the ship were clubbing and possibly drinking tonight, but she was more interested in seeing how they partied. After all, everyone should have a chance to make a fool of themselves dancing. The job they held didn't matter.

Nix grabbed one of their arms and led the pair to the floor in a rush to begin thr festivities. In times like these she truly showed off more human side, and as she grinned at the twins and swayed in sync with the rythm she hoped for a long night of festivities. "C'mon girls, don't tell me Prometheans don't know how to have fun! You'll break my mechanical heart! "

[Zarkenis Ultima]

October 24th - Gaia, Nebra System
Monica Lantrix

---

---

After addressing Raela, Monica simply continued to sit there, waiting for the other woman to say something else or, preferably, leave. Life hadn't once done her any favors, however, and that day was no exception. Illvara spoke up, saying something about immature children being allowed to join Black Star. A bit too stern and haughty for her liking, but she figured that as long as it drove her off it would be fine. Except, it didn't. Instead it simply sent Raela off on another tirade about how she was being patronized - something that got Monica to roll her eyes in contempt - and that Illvara was the childish one for jumping in without knowing anything. There goes my quiet fuckin' drinking time. Taken away by a stuck up bitch.

The dark-skinned woman continued talking, but at this point the cat-eared mercenary was only half-listening, staring off into space while silently considering if it would be such a bad thing to get kicked out of Black Star or thrown into jail for murdering a crewmate. It really wouldn't be difficult at all - she could kill all three women around her before anyone could stop her if she wanted, and no punishment could possibly be worse than Ananke.

But the old man wouldn't like that. She thought, sighing in resignation before turning to look back at Raela, who had finished yapping at last. Staring at her for a moment, she replayed the other woman's words in her mind to see if there was anything worth responding too.

"If you think I'm the toxic one you really ought to look in the mirror one of these days." The former assassin quipped nonchalantly before taking another drink from her bottle - the redhead didn't seem to want it so it was her loss. "I'm not the one who went to hound one of my teammates during her leisure time just because she pointed out that my insults are shit. And if you really want to know, I'm just here for the ride, not for the money or to make friends, though it's nice to see I'm not the worst here at that." She grinned slightly, taking another big gulp. Afterwards, her expression suddenly turned serious.

"Oh, also, you really gotta stop saying all that shit and treating sex workers as the scum of the earth. Cunt."

---

October 25th - Nebra System
Iris Asteriou

---

---

As she waited for the results to come back, Iris looked at Ija and nodded along at her words. She remembered what she'd been told about the incident at the bridge yesterday and it made sense for the AI to come deliver it personally rather than ask her to go grab it. Though by that logic, it would've been simple enough for its bodyframe to simply deposit the sample on any of the trays or tables on the lab and inform Iris of its location - mission critical or not, rushing into the lab while screaming for a medical team to analyze the sample didn't seem very logical.

But then, she wouldn't presume to know how an advanced AI ought to act when that kind of technology was practically unknown in the Confederation. More attention-grabbing and unnerving was the fact that the bodyframe crawled right back out of the medical bay to corners unknown, even as the AI continued to talk to her. She was used to identifying an object as her interlocutor when she was having a conversation, but this time the voice that addressed her was coming from all around her, a novel experience to say the least. Was this how religious people felt?

"Hm?" She turned to the speaker on the ceiling when Ija addressed her again, the AI's voice bringing her out of her inner thoughts. Hearing the question and the comment hastily thrown on top of it afterwards, she shook her head. "Oh no, no, I couldn't bear to tell you to shut up. Ask away." She said with a chuckle. Before she said anything else, the machine finally let out a ping, and Iris moved to the computer terminal attached to it.

"There's nothing I need from you to do my job right now but perhaps you could archive these results? It should be helpful if the captain wants to look into them some other time. These are definitely organic particles in this sample, but not like any I've seen before." She commented as she analyzed the results.

---

October 27th - Apex, Apex System
Iris Asteriou

---

Eos found herself reviewing the psych profiles of the crew to keep them fresh in her mind. No one had come to visit her since she had sent out her email and so she did her best to stay familiar with the crew for the time when she would eventually have appointments. As she was doing this she heard a knock on her office door which led to her rising from her desk towards the door. When she opened it, it was her sister Iris. A conspiratorial grin on her face.

“Iris? You have that look on your face. What are you planning?”

The older - by a half second or so - of the two twins didn’t immediately answer, instead simply inviting herself into the office and leaned on her sister’s desk. “Hey E. Nothing too bad, just thought of dragging you out of your office since we have a chance to have some fun outside. You were planning on just spending all of our shore leave in here, weren’t you?” The Promethean asked.

Eos shrugged, “I probably would have tried to use the gym while people were away. It’s always so crowded there with the meathead soldier types.” She replied. She hadn’t really needed to ask what Iris’ intent in knocking had been. It was clear the moment she walked in. “So, what do you have in mind exactly? Knowing you, you want to go to that club the captain has business at?”

Iris’ grin simply grew as her sister finally asked about her plans. She hadn’t expected it to be a surprise at all, but even so, it was always fun to tease Eos a little and get her to go out with her. “You know me so well don’t you? The Crown is one of Everest’s fanciest clubs and it just so happens our captain’s got a free pass for the whole crew. I just thought we should take advantage of that.” She said enthusiastically, while idly grabbing Eos’ tablet from her desk. “I mean, what else have you got to do? Analyze the killer cat’s profile for the nth time?”

Eos quickly snatched the tablet out of Iris’ hand. It was pointless to chastise her about the unethical nature of looking through private information but that didn’t mean she would just let her hand on to the tablet.

“Give me that, and I suppose you have a point. Recreation and socialization are important components of mental health after all. Let’s just try not to go wild alright? We’re not in school anymore, and I'm too old to be talking to patients hungover.

Iris scoffed. “Come on, you can’t be saying you’re too old for that. I’m your age, you know?” The doctor commented as she straightened up and walked over to Eos, throwing an arm around her. “Besides, a hangover is nothing a good coffee can’t fix, and this is an opportunity for you to study your coworkers in a different medium.” She said to further persuade her, hoping to get her to let loose. She had always been the more introverted of the two, after all.

Eos offered a smile to her sister, “So you finally admit we’re the same age huh? Alright alright, enough snake oil, you’re right it’s a good idea. It’s been a while since we’ve been in a city like this. I hope I have something good enough to wear…”

At this, Iris grinned and grabbed her sister by the arm. “Oh don’t worry about that, you can borrow some clothes from me if you want, I’m sure I’ve got something that’ll look good on you…” She stated as she headed back to her room to browse through her wardrobe with Eos in tow.

---

---

Thanks to Regar's appointment with one of the power players of the Apexian underworld, TIasha Nuvonn, the Promethean sisters were able to cut in line to enter the Crown, one of Everest's most exclusive nightclubs. It had a reputation for being the right place to look for business partners or problem solvers, but Iris didn't care about that - Regar was here on business, not her. All she cared about was the Crown's reputation for being the place to have a good time.

To have a good time, though, the first step was to prepare for it. Iris had picked out her outfit for the evening with that in mind, with tight black pants and a revealing halter top that exposed her back, allowing plain view of the spider tattoo on her back. Along with the spiderweb like tattoos on her arms, she had gotten it not long after arriving in Altanorch, after getting kicked out of the Confederation's military forces. Such things weren't allowed for men and women serving, but since she was no longer in service, she had decided to let loose and reaffirm her individuality. Completing the look was her hair - she normally wore it in a high ponytail, but this time she had her hair down, much like her sister did most of the time. This would undoubtedly make it harder for others to tell them apart, though she was sure the clothes would help some.

As the group moved past the entrance, they were stopped by the club's security and instructed to relinquish all their weapons before heading in further. Not one to be caught off-guard, Iris had brought along her trusty Vulcan APX, for self-defense outside the club rather than for using it inside. Thus, she calmly took it off and placed it in one of the lockers near the entrance under the watchful eye of a security guard, before catching up with her sister.

The sights and sounds made it clear that this was no ordinary club, more refined but no less frantic than the ones she had visited in the past, and better equipped, too - the glowing lights of the dance floor were engineered specifically to heighten the dancers' excitement and improve their experience.

She didn't have long to watch from afar, however. Suddenly, someone grabbed her sister's arm and began dragging her away, towards the dance floor. At first apprehensive, she quickly noticed that it was one of their crewmates, Nix, and relaxed. The question remained about why the android would be interested in a place like this, but ignoring that for the time being, she trailed behind Nix and Eos.

"Don't need to say that twice, I'd hate to hurt your artificial feelings." Iris quipped as she too began joining in on the dancing, moving her hips and the rest of her body in sync with the music - and nudging her sister to do the same. "You know, this is the first I've heard about a dancing android, Nix."

---

Monica Lantrix

---

Another Black Star member who was quite happy about Regar's appointment with Tiasha was Monica. The cat-eared mercenary might not have given the other members of the crew the impression that she was much of a clubber, but the simple truth was that places like clubs, bars and the like were excellent spots to drink, get into a fight or find a warm body to spend the night with, and Monica enjoyed all three almost equally.

Nonchalantly walking into the club behind the rest of her comrades, she was immediately stopped by one of the Crown's security guards, a burly mass of muscle in the guise of a Noxial. She wasn't about to be intimidated by him or anyone else, of course, but before she launched into a flurry of kicks and punches, the man helpfully informed her that weapons were forbidden within the establishment, and that she was to put them in a locker before heading inside. Reining in her instincts, she opted against starting a fight and heading to the lockers instead, to do as she had been told.

It was quite a lengthy process. First, she unhooked her katanas from her belt, scabbards and all. One by one, all six of them went into the locker, placed inside with care, almost with love some might say. Then came all of her explosive knives, which she took care not to trigger. Then the regular ones.

By the time she was done, all of her crewmates had moved on to the club, which left her alone - not that she minded. She hadn't expected to be spending a lot of time with them and honestly, being alone would be a blessing compared to being with some of them. "Alright, it's all in there. I better don't see a single scratch on any of them, though, or-" The former assassin threatened as she turned around, only to be cut off upon noticing that the towering Noxial that had been watching over her had been replaced by someone else. A tall male Sigal, not as tall or as muscular as the Noxial from before, but significantly easier on the eyes. Monica found herself grinning at him. "Well, you're cute. I might not kill you." She told him with a wink before heading inside.

The club's popularity was immediately apparent, and the dance floor was packed with bodies. Rather than go there, however, the mercenary headed straight to the bar. The first thing she needed to start having a good time was a good drink, and the bar was the place to go for that. It didn't take her long to reach it, and she immediately slid into an empty stool, beckoning the bartender over. "I'll have a Don Tello. The whole bottle. And a glass too." She said, and the elderly Therian obliged, setting a bottle of tequila and a glass in front of her before serving her the first shot.

She spent some time at the bar by herself, drinking in solitude and nearly finishing her bottle. As she was downing one of the last few shots, however, someone approached her from behind. Even through the loud sounds and the potent smell of alcohol all around, she could tell, she could feel it.

"How much, kitty?" A man asked her. The woman couldn't hold back a grin. Here was a man who thought he could have anything just because he had money. She supposed she should've been flattered that she was what he wanted, out of everything in that club, but what she wanted was to put him in his place.

"Too much, love." She replied before even turning around. When she did finally look at the figure behind her, however, she couldn't help it and burst into laughter. The human in front of her was not gaunt or short or fat, but his face was unfortunately arranged in just the right way to produce revulsion instead of attraction. "Oh, Jaes. Yeah, there's not enough money in all of Rae to get me to fuck your ugly face." She said with a laugh.

"Listen here you labrat whore-" The man began.

The next moment he was lying on the floor dazed with a bloodied nose and a missing tooth.

"You don't say that word if you don't want your ass beat... love." Monica spoke as she stood over the man with a bloodied fist. There was not a lot others could do to get her riled up thanks to the thick skin she had developed in the pits of Ananke, but that - a slur against those hybrids born from forced crossbreeding or made via genetic meddling - was a good way to go, if you wanted to end up bleeding on the floor.

The man stared up at her in shock, as did two burly Acux who stood by his side. After a moment, however, the man turned to them. "What are you just standing there for?! Get her!" He shouted at them. One of the two immediately rushed towards Monica, with speed beyond what even someone of his physique should be able to manage - clearly an augmented fellow.

Too bad you're not the only one.

To her heightened senses, the man was practically moving in slow motion, and it was all too easy for her to duck under his fist and then use his weight and momentum against him, flipping him over and causing him to land on his back with a loud noise. The other bodyguard tried to charge her while she was distracted, but the mercenary did a backflip, kicking him in the face and gracefully landing on the bar afterwards. While one of them recovered from the daze and the other picked himself off the ground, the young woman picked up her bottle and drank what was left in it.

One of the two bodyguards approached her, only to be swiftly bashed in the head with the empty glass bottle, which shattered instantly. This was followed by a flying kick to the chest that sent the Acux back to the ground, from where he wouldn't be getting up for a while. She turned to face the other one, dodging the first two punches before grabbing his hands by the wrist. Locked this way, it seemed their strength was evenly matched, but suddenly, a black substance began covering Monica from head to toe, giving her an otherworldly visage. Her clothes and the rough shape of her head were still visible, but her features were concealed, and instead all that others could see were six glowing white eyes.

Suddenly, four arms sprouted from this substance and began battering the bodyguard, who was helpless to stop them as his hands were still being held. The pummeling ended shortly afterwards, and the feline man fell to the ground, clutching his battered body as he writhed in pain.

The cat-eared woman placed her hands on her hips as she admired her handiwork. "Come on guys, six year old me could've kicked your asses."

There were no more words for a moment, until suddenly a shout caught her attention.

"It's the Black Rose!"

Hearing her old assassin nickname uttered left the mercenary visibly confused, and she turned to look for the source of that shout. It turned out to be from the leader of a group of five Quarets who were advancing on her menacingly. "She's using the arc she stole from our boss!" One clamored.

Oh, crap.

She knew exactly who these people were. They were members of the Hammer of Kando, the ruthless faction that ruled over the rich Apexian world of Kandolla with an iron fist. Their old warlord, Kalmar, had been very influential until she put an end to him and stole his arctisite - or arc as the lowlifes said. It seemed they still held a grudge against her for doing that to him, and were still influential enough to be allowed on a place like the Crown.

Far from shying away from the challenge, however, she grinned underneath her nightmarish visage.

"Yeah! What are you gonna do about it quadrats?" She taunted them. As if on cue, one of them grabbed one of the bar stools with two hands and charged at her, taking a swing while his two free hands prepared to catch any incoming blows. She ducked under the blow, weaving past his defenses and then delivering a vicious uppercut that staggered him. Another one rushed her, spreading all four of his arms in order to try and catch her in a bear hug, but she saw through it and quickly jumped over him, grabbing him by the back of the shirt and throwing him straight at his dazed comrade, causing both to fall to the ground in a heap of limbs. Two down, three to go. Monica thought excitedly as the thrill of combat pumped her brain full of chemicals.

One of the three remaining Quarets grabbed her from behind, locking her arms and legs, while another prepared to beat her up good. But new arms grew out of her body that blocked every attack and eventually grabbed her attacker's mouth, holding it open. Monica spat a glob of the same black substance that coated her into the man's mouth, and he immediately fell to the ground, paralyzed. A moment afterwards a tendril made of the same substance forced its way into the mouth of the man holding her captive, and the same happened to him in short order.

That left only their leader, who was no ordinary Quaret - all four of his arms were made of metal, mechanical prosthetics that likely had cost him a small fortune. He began throwing astonishingly fast punches at her, and she struggled to keep up despite her ability to form new limbs on a whim. It seemed they were evenly matched, until, after dodging one of his punches, she felt a sharp pain raking her across her stomach.

"Shit!" She cried out as she looked down and noticed that a blade had sprung from her foe's mechanical arm and left her a nasty gash. Already a porous black substance was beginning to form over the wound, but the floor was stained with her blood nonetheless. Angered by this, Monica grabbed a bar stool and began whaling on him with renewed ferocity, causing him to begin backpedaling. At the same time, tendrils emerged from the darkness coating her and began whipping at his body, inflicting countless lacerations. After a moment, the hidden blade broke, and after another the Quaret fell to the ground.

Monica raised the stool over her head, as if she was preparing to bring it down upon her foe and bash his head in. However, after a moment she simply let it fall to the ground and slowly turned around. She put her hands up as the black substance that covered her receded. There was utter silence around her save for the music nearby and another sound, a low, rhythmic rumble coming from her throat, though she stopped it when she noticed it.

The Crown's security had arrived, their weapons trained at her. She smiled sheepishly, noticing the attractive Sigal from before was among them.

"Hey handsome." She winked at him.

[Ceystile]

Ben appreciated the day off. It gave her an opportunity to get out of the lab...except she didn’t like crowds. Never had, they always made her feel uncomfortably claustrophobic and like everybody’s eyes were on her judging her. In the booming club she felt awkward and out of place. She may as well try to enjoy herself, have a little fun. Who knew when they’d get an opportunity like this again for a very long time?

“Miss...Schrödinger, was it?” A deep, unfamiliar voice snapped Ben out of her thoughts and she looked up to see blond hair and a severe expression...it was that Fean fellow. The one who tended to keep to himself, didn’t really speak much. He had an aura of arrogance about him that put a lot of people off, mostly they just stayed out of each other’s way. “Ja, what is it?”
“I was just wondering what you were doing out here alone. Everyone else seems to either be pairing off or getting drunk.”
“I never liked crowds, I decided to just stay here by myself and think.”
“Come now. Surely there must be something you enjoy doing, instead of blowing things up.” She stiffened at that comment. “I’ll have you know that I...”

“Relax, I meant no harm. All I was saying is that, surely there has to be something you want to do with with this rare time off.”
“Isn’t there something YOU’D rather be doing, instead of just sitting here with me?”
“Yes, actually. I was going to get a drink and I was wondering if you’d join me. Not much fun drinking alone, you know. It’ll only be one and I’ll have you back by dark.”

[Segral]

Errol Wyrick - October 27th, 2230
Everest, Planet Apex

Errol frowned deeply at the police officer's words, giving a disapproving tut-tut from behind his lips as he scanned the scene, including the two victims practically clinging to each other in fear. Everest was a lovely place, but no city that was host to a game as brutal and bloody as King of the Hill could be a pure place. He had known many a friend who had come to Everest in search of opportunity, and while some had become successful, very successful, he had known just as many who perished here, and far too many of those were at the hands of a lowlife criminal. It was a stain on society, one that was not just confined to the Abyss, as so many liked to pretend. He spat on them, and although they were leagues above, he couldn't help but be frustrated with the police too, frustrated by their aggressive adherence to the book, by their lack of ability to follow up and ability to only archive reports away. Sure, it was a big city, but a big city was all the reason why the rules should be slacker if anything, not tighter than a noose around an underpaid officer's throat.

He couldn't do anything about the police force. He was no politician, and if he had the money to fund a city like Everest's police department, he wouldn't be sailing on the Oriasa in the first place. He wouldn't even be working. But he could do something about these men. One of them, a Quaret fellow by the name of Yar-uk asked if he was a local, clearly hoping that Errol would have the right combination of deadly arms and street-smart knowledge to capture back something clearly valuable to the man. His Elnoi friend was a bit on the shyer side, and frankly, so was Errol, who gave a sad smile to the two men as he replied.

"Unfortunately, no, I am no local. I was born very far away from here, as you can likely tell." Errol said, giving a sweeping gesture down to his own body. Noxials. A rare folk. "I'm sorry to hear of your troubles, though, it's truly awful. If you don't mind me asking, what was stolen from you?"

[Tomia]

Erina, October 24th
Erina relaxed a bit at Nix's comments about Roger. She seemed to think he was a simple computer programmed rather than a self aware AI. The Sigal even found herself chuckling at the Android's comments. It seemed like Nix was actually making an effort to be nice. It wasn't like they would become friends overnight, but maybe Nix wasn't exactly like the humans that had bullied her back on Earth. Still, she felt like there was something off about her. Erina knew machines and computers pretty well, and Nix certainly seemed organic. Maybe Collective technicians were just that skilled. She certainly would have loved to meet the engineer that had built her if that was the case.

"That could be funny ya, anyway I appreciate the apology. I maybe overreacted a bit. I'm... not used to things like this. I'm not a soldier like most people here. I mean I went through basic training and all but that wasn't anything like today. Sorry, I'm totally rambling. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot though, so let's try to start over tomorrow?"

Erina, October 27th
The next few days were a lot calmer and Erina was starting to feel slightly more at home on the ship. It turned out that they would have the night off as they arrived at the city of Everest. Even just looking out the windows of their ship the young Sigal was astonished at the view. She of course saw cities on Earth and her home planet but Isgral had nothing like this and she never spent much time in places like New York.

There's so many people, and so many lights

She thought to herself in wonder. She wasn't too interested in a night club, to be honest the idea scared her a bit in a big city like this. But she definitely didn't just want to spend the whole night in the ship. She found herself walking through the halls, looking for people who hadn't headed out yet and started to worry she wouldn't fine anyone when she stumbled upon Ben talking to their fellow crewmate named Fean. Erina didn't know a lot about him, but she knew Ben so they seemed like a good pair to approach.

"Hey!" She called out as she got close to Ben's door. "Do you to want to explore the city a bit? I'm dying to see it but I don't want to go out there on my own." She told the two earnestly until Fean's last words registered and she found herself blushing slightly. Was she being a third wheel right now? Erina hadn't even thought of that possibility as she approached but now it was clear in her mind. "Unless... I'm not interrupting anything am I? I totally don't mean to barge in on any plans, if you're busy I can go see if Kennedy is still around..."

Eos, October 27th
Eos was enjoying a drink with her sister at their table when she was suddenly pulled onto the dance floor by the human like Android Nix. Eos had been a bit intimidated when they entered the club, it was filled with attractive and extravagant looking people who were all dancing and flirting energetically. Not to mention Iris convinced her to wear a blue skirt that was a little shorter than Eos was usually comfortable with, however she was able to combine it was a long sleeve black shirt that she liked so that made her more confident. However that confidence was once again shaken as she was brought out from the comfort of the table onto the crowded floor. Nix seemed nice enough at least and was earnest rather than pushy. Eos knew how to dance of course, but doing so in front of crowds of strangers wasn't the easiest thing. She felt her sister nudge her and just rolled her eyes with a smile. Finally giving in, she started to move her hips and dance along with her sister and their new android drinking buddy.

On the Streets of Everest

Friendly Neighborhood Errol

The Quaret looked a little disheartened at Errol's response and hesitated to respond to his question but the Noxial seemed very earnest. "Well, it's a blade. A ceremonial one, its not sharpened or anything. My father was a brave soldier, and well that isn't me but the knife is the only thing I had left of him." The Quaret said looking very down. "I can't believe someone would just take it... It's not even worth much."