In Case of Emergency... IV! (Open, Read First Post!)

[Macisikan]

Down in the interview room…
Savin leaned in close to stare at the overlay, then settled back, thinking.

“I don’t suppose you have precise coordinates for this Notch system, assuming Sol as your coordinate system’s point of origin?” he asked. A different emotion had entered his voice; weary resignation, as though he expected the answer to be no. If she said yes, they could be rid of her within the week. If she said no, it could take months to get her there.

---

Up in the operations centre…
“Dr. Ychan, I think we need you,” the Director summoned her team’s most senior Birrin.

The hexapod strutted forward “[polite inquiry] yes, Tuchen-Director?”

“I think we might have a scent-based communication system,” the Director indicated the screen with the orb on it. Next to said screen was an analysis of the

“[puzzlement] Not a familiar species. Unknown to us. [concern] It will starve if we cannot communicate with it,” Ychan observed.

“That would be counter-productive,” one of the synths put in.

“[agreement, humour] Correct. [contemplation] Communication will be difficult; it uses its scents to convey all information, not just emotion. [inquiry] Those appendages on the top, are those eyes?”

“We believe so,” the synth replied. “They behave like eyes.”

“[satisfaction] perhaps we could try some sort of pictographical means. But first we must ascertain intelligence; [initiative] Tuchen-Director, request permission to take oversight of this project. Proposed course of action; ascertain intelligence, present pictographs, attempt communication. [humour] Try to find out what it eats.”

The Director thought for a moment. “Go ahead. The languages department is at your disposal.”

“[gratitude],” Ychan directed his attention to one of the synths. “[request] Please have the vatgrown withdraw, along with all but one of the vocs; have that one vocalise again – perhaps we can convey that we primarily use sound… [puzzlement] assuming it has ears. [resolution] Will need a psion to assist, but only observationally at present. [cordiality] Ah, Dr Lucheni, just the person I wanted – we have a bit of a languages issue; here’s what I want you to do…”

---

…and back in the lab:
The vatgrown and vocs all tilted their heads as instructions came in; then, one by one, with the exception of the voc standing in front of the orb, they withdrew from the room.

The voc in front of the orb shifted its weight slightly as a synth took direct control.

“I am sorry,” it/they said, turning the voc’s hands palms-up in the classic empty-handed gesture. “We do not understand you.”

It was worth a shot. Maybe. Ychan didn’t think they’d lose anything this way. It waited patiently; far above, a series of simple glyphs was being selected. Lucheni also suggested that, perhaps, they could play the footage of what had happened; the collection of the debris, its loading, its being brought here, and finally the awakening of the orb, and Falk.

It took a bit of convincing, but Ychan agreed; the first thing they would show the orb (it was better than “specimen 33924734-B”, but it wasn’t great) would be the footage, followed by a graphical representation of the same thing. At least then the orb would know what had happened.

One of the station’s psions descended down into the labs section, to take up station in an observation room; a one-way mirror allowed her to stare into the lab.

The voc came back to life; the first thing it did was turn and walk to a wall-mounted screen. It wasn’t necessary to manually activate it, but that’s what it did, before stepping to one side to allow the orb to approach; the screen simply displayed the flag of the Realm (flat, not rippled) until the orb was close, then it went black, and the footage began to play.

While this happened, Ychan also detailed one of his assistants to try to find an easier way to accommodate the guest.

[New Dornalia]

New Dornalia...

"A most thoughtful gesture," Stephen nodded in reply, taking first the suit and then the drink before taking a sip of the second and handing it back to the bearer. "Most thoughtful, though I assure you," he gave Detective Kournikova a wink, "A fine specimen of manhood such as myself has no issues of modesty. One must let the buyer inspect the merchandise..."

The man who held the drink nearly spilled it but recovered enough to choke down his bile before turning away and coughing. Behind him Ambrose began to dress, pulling on first underwear then socks, trousers, and then tucking the provided shirt into his waistband before cinching down the leather belt around his bony waist. The jacket followed and for a good minute he fussed with the provided bow tie, his fingers moving through complex and unnatural gyrations until he tore it from his throat and tucked it into a pocket before unbuttoning the top button of his shirt, an action which instantly cut ten years off his apparent age, "Drat that Miss Nineteen - one of her duties you see. But that is a story we shall return to shortly!"

Patting his chest, he reached into the inner pocket of the jacket and drew out a comb to pass it through his tangle of hair, "Ah, Zhang's - always the small details! And let us see;" Returning the tines to their place, he drew out a razor and, stepping up to the vehicle, began to rapidly dispose of his stubble using the mirrored window and again cutting a half-dozen years off his age.

"Perfect, perfect," he tossed the edge to one of the men, who passed it to the nearest garbage receptacle where it was then retrieved by a superstitious gloved hand, "Now, let us be on our way! My good man," he put out his hand for the drink and took a sip, waiting while the door was opened, "Detective? After you, of course," he offered with a slight bow.

As soon as she was seated, he slid in after her, putting one arm across the seat behind her while holding the glass up so that not the slightest drop would not grace his throat. The vehicle began to move and as it sped towards their unknown destination he graced his fellow travelers with nattering conversation about whatever they might pass; At least until the moment when a familiar colorful sign came into view alongside the road.

"Ah! Stop here, if you would," he asked, leaning forward to tap the driver on the shoulder and point in the direction of the approaching building. "Normally I wouldn't indulge in such commodity refreshment but my former captors were rather reluctant to meet my needs and I must admit to feeling a bit peckish. Ah, yes - thank you, a number four, extra tomato, no onion, gluten free bun," he recited, demonstrating the lie of his previous statement.

As things often were, there were several cars ahead of them in the Happy-Happy Drive-Through and this gave him further opportunity to entertain his hosts with prattle, "As I was saying earlier - Miss Nineteen. An excellent laboratory assistant and a damn fine looking woman - though I'll admit I designed her myself - at least until the moment she turned on me. That's where it all went wrong, you see... Ah;" The driver handed the meals to the side with the man up front turning to pass over a bag in the shape of the Great Deceiver, "Excellent. Normally I wouldn't indulge - an unspecified heart condition brought on by a hasty encounter with a fire ax - but it has been quite a long last few hundred thousand years."

A napkin was tucked into his collar and another spread across his lap and the rest of the trip went by silently except for the obnoxious rattling shluuurp of the driver sucking at the bottom of his shake. By the time they reached the precinct the last of his fries were disappearing between ancient lips - though he had offered some to Svetlana as a matter of course - and he wiped his hands thoroughly though this forced the driver to wait, simmering in the summer heat. Again he reached into the inside pocket and a pair of designer sunglasses appeared and he flipped them open to set them astride his nose, "No - you can't beat Zhang's. Not for service, ever!"

The normal course of action would have been to escort the Doctor to one of the interrogation rooms adjacent to the cell block but Stephen, as always, had other plans in mind. As soon as the four entered the elevator he pressed the cancel button and then the top-most number, turning to lean his body against the panel with a wink to Detective Kournikova, "The height of rudeness, I assure you."

This put the two in the position of having to go through an old man of seemingly pleasant disposition and thus it was only a moment later when the doors opened to deposit them on the upper-most floor. Steering them through the hallways as if by guided missile, they found themselves on the internal side of a pair of double-doors that he brushed open to reveal a small rooftop garden.

"Perfect," he declared, throwing his arms wide and turning around to bow deeply, "Once again the taxpayer dollar at work. A fine place for a story, wouldn't you agree? Summon your scribes, unless they prefer to remain ensconced in their little cubicle watching that dratted camera - and ask them to fetch me another drink on the way. I'm sure your Captain has some fine examples of the distiller's arts tucked away for a special occasion..."

Turning, he tossed off a cheeky salute in the direction of the security camera dangling off the side of the building before finding a seat in the shade, the windows of the Captain's office at his back and one knee crossed over the other. He had unbuttoned his jacket and now rested with his empty glass in one hand as if a replacement was not only expected but the natural consequence of its empty state and a hand tucked under one strap of his suspenders.

"Now, as I'm sure you've all be waiting for, I should properly introduce myself. Doctor Stephen Ambrose, President of Ambrose Industries, noted genius, wealthy inventor, the creator of SEXYE, and numerous other accomplishments both greater and lesser. My ego," he smiled, nodding towards the three individuals who had just come out onto the patio under a full head of glower and steam, "Knows few bounds. But our story and your questions start some time previously, if I don't miss my mark."

A tumbler of harsh brown liquor replaced the first and he nodded his thanks to the bearer, "Now, some details I will skip for the purposes of brevity but rest assured they do not involve us. To spin the yarn correctly; This is a story of betrayal, escape, capture, and slavery... A million years in the past!"

Detective Kournikova had been on many investigations in her time working with law enforcement. Some of them were mundane, with stuff like investigating homicides or the odd rash of shoplifting events at any number of shops. Others were not so mundane. The only really bizarre incident she could think of at the moment even remotely approaching this encounter was the time she investigated a "clown college" which was really a front for a Vitamin Y smuggling operation. How they managed to get some of the purest Vitamin Y into clown makeup was something the boffins down in Forensics had discussed with her, but she was a cop at heart and not a scientist. A college-and-law-school educated cop (it's how one got to work in New Monterrey County's elite investigations unit besides exceptional marksmanship and metaphorical balls of adamantium plated with brass), but a cop nonetheless.

But meeting a man like Dr. Ambrose? This was something she was going to remember even unto her last breath.

Not many incidents involving bringing a man in for questioning conducted by her office involved a trip to Happy Happy Foods, after all. She tended to avoid the joint like the plague--Mr. MooCow's was her fast food of choice, even if one did have to pay more for those oh-so-greasy-but-good Patty Melt Specials they had on tap in more than one way. Still, it got Ambrose in a good mood and he did share some of his stuff with the other personnel in the car. One of them insisted on making horrific slurping noises--something which Svetlana's mother would have sternly reproached her about if she had indulged in such a thing.

Nor did they involve a man who was clearly in a mood to talk about anything and everything. Heck, Dr. Ambrose was in a mood to overshare slightly, even, and given his ramblings Kournikova had a feeling the good doctor was glad to be out of the pod--or whatever hellhole he had escaped from. The last part on its own raised questions about just what he was imprisoned for however. Kournikova noted the grumbling mentions of Miss Nineteen, the inability to tie a tie, and the mention of what was clearly some sort of attack on his person with a fire axe. The good doctor evidently was the genius he claimed to be--not many survived such an attack unless they had something on their side like a stabproof vest or divine protection--or superscience in this case.

Still, all of that was speculation, and actually not that relevant either. One reason was that when the team got to HQ, it was evident that as Kournikova feared, all the feds had showed up. Several different official-looking Nissans were in front, with various federal agencies' names and logos on them. Teams of women and men dressed up in suits, ties, skirt suits, business casual getups with fleeces, and briefcases and tablets upon briefcases and tablets were jostling for position and almost racing to get into the HQ to follow Kournikova. Ominously, there was even an SUV from the Russo-American Investment and Development corporation, as well as a statuesque young woman stepping out of it who looked too good to be a mere mercenary. Kournikova winced--RAID was allegedly used by the Dornalian Government to do shady things, and if someone super secret was there....it would mean a degree of meddling she definitely didn't want. She didn't want her people being compromised by some overzealous feds.

Even more meddlesome however was the media. It appeared that the usual cavalcade of news drones and Raptors was now joined by even more SUVs full of camera crews, many, many drones, and any number of reporters jostling up the steps, trying to nab interviews or footage or both. Kournikova recognized the usual wags. Kirby Delahunty from the Delahunty Report--sue happy, protective of his image, and yet eager to gossip. Josefina Bagdanov from Channel 2, in all of her beautiful glory. To their credit, New Monterrey Sheriff's officers were holding them back, using loud voices, foldable barriers and phasers in hand to try and manage the crowd of onlookers. Still, another individual could be seen leaving the station, flanked by officers--it was Sensei McMurty herself, along with the rest of the Early Bird Society, who had been debriefed on their experiences. McMurty looked at Ambrose, and noted there was something about him that was dangerous. But before she could speak, the officers ushered her and the rest of the elders along, leaving Kournikova to enter the building. Kournikova was now even more concerned about her people. Things were turning into a right circus, and the last thing her people needed was to be gossiped about.

Kournikova and her train of unwanted guests soon entered the station, and then with a bit of slight of hand on Dr. Ambrose's part, the whole party was now on the roof. As officers and interns dragged in more chairs and stenographers and individuals with tape recorders--whose memory would be now supplemented by an array of legal pads and tablets from the various federal agencies now in tow--Ambrose introduced himself formally. For her part, Kournikova, blushing, turned to another person who shrugged. At that, Kournikova turned, coughed and said to Dr. Ambrose--as her peripheral vision noted the Early Bird Society had taken up positions on a rooftop bistro enjoying morning coffee and pastries watching the interview as were oh so many other drones and Raptors--"Alright, Doctor Ambrose. Well, all details are relevant, but for now--be aware you are not under arrest, no charges have been filed and you're not in trouble--we just want to ask some questions about what is going on. Anyway, you mentioned...captivity, betrayal by an assistant named Miss Nineteen...and how did you put it--'a story of betrayal, capture, escape and slavery...a million years in the past.' Can you clarify what that's all about?"

[Sunset]

United World Order...

For a moment the creature paused in the open capsule, shaking its head and blinking in the harsh lights of the improvised laboratory. Thin claws bit into the smooth surface of the pod as corded muscle flexed under its gray skin, the motion exposing a slight iridescence that attracted the eye just before its eyes narrowed and a long row of razor teeth flashed under its shark-like muzzle. Just for an instant it looked as though it was about to pounce, to rend and rip the two men piece from piece to splatter the platform in a jumble of gore and viscera.

Then the eyes opened but slightly before again closing to slits as it extended one foot - slowly, carefully, almost seductively - to the deck of the platform. The other followed and it pulled itself to its feet, leaving deep marks in the shell of the capsule it had taken otherwise hours to cut through. Shaking its shoulders out in a rippling stretch, it all but ignored the guns pointed at it and even those of the reinforcements who had entered the room. A hand went out and it cocked its head to one side, considering one and then the other through those narrow, exotic eyes.

"Humans..." It's voice was a noise, a deep rumble but with the edge of a purr, both compelling and seductive. "Ah... Humans - bow. Kneel. Grovel - a new master walks among you and you shall take your proper place..."

----
To-Do:

Caer Lleon
Senkaku
Macisikan
New Dornalia

[Sunset]

Caer Lleon...

One after the other, the pods were examined and the conclusion returned; Both were undamaged and essentially identical. To know more without precision instruments would require complicated gyrations and, for the time being, essentially identical was close enough. What was however odd was that all three stood in the same orientation with one longwise-end slightly in the ground and the other straight above it as though it hung from an invisible plum-line. That brought to mind comparisons to the ancient monument at Stonehenge and elsewhere, the singular standing stones left by those that had come before and for unknown reasons.

With that inspiration in hand and a line borrowed from a Knight's kit she sent the same off to establish the distances and relationships while she turned back to the capsule. It was empty and remained solidly so, with not a trace of dust, blood, or hair inside. The only dirt she had tracked in herself and only a few clots from between the cleats of her boots. The surface was exceptionally smooth and even where it came to an edge at the opening it was not knife-sharp but rather a slick corner that left a crease down her fingertip.

Soon enough the Knight returned with the news; This was neither outlier or miscalculation. All three were equidistant from the other two, a perfect triangle. Whether that meant something or not, it was unlikely that this could happen merely by coincidence.

====

On through both day and night the creature traveled, front legs switching to middle when the first tired and back when the second gave out. Its eyeless face searched the ground ahead of it, muzzle shifting this way and that, but it was not fear that drove it to the shore of the Glass Lake but desperation. So much time in the open had stretched its skin thin over its frame and without pause or consideration it charged into the water, plunging straight to the depths. Instantly it was refreshed and so much so that when a fish - pale and sickly - passed nearby it was instantly devoured. Then a shadow passed overhead and it clung to an ancient branch that had long ago settled to the bottom, motionless as its skin shifted until it nearly disappeared into the murk...

----
To-Do:

Senkaku
Macisikan
New Dornalia

[Sunset]

Senkaku...

Disregarding that cutting open a container that may well contain a living, breathing being both of unknown construction and with a tool that may well incinerate both the interior and the inhabitant would be considered criminal - nay, murderously negligent - among nearly any other civilization except the most callous or irreverent, the contents of the first capsule were thankfully intact. The first indication was when the end of the capsule came off and a gush of purple liquid surged out to splatter both cutters in viscous gel. It wasn't harmful and in fact it felt as though it was barely there - at least until their arms fell asleep. That would be several minutes forward of the present moment, however.

First it was the blonde woman's turn to look inside and laying on what was now the floor of the capsule was a little person. Or at least it looked like a little person until it - he - sat up and clapped a thick hand to his head, opened his eyes, and screamed, "You! No - No way. We Are Not Doing This Again."

Every word was capitalized and plainly audible; There was no chance for either mis-translation or misunderstanding. Positively leaping to his feet, he gave her both a good chance to pick out the details and for him to nearly poke her in the nose with the finger of accusation, "Did you not hear me?"

To keep the description short, he looked very much like someone had crossed a Hobbit with Leptoceratops Gracilis - right down to the pushed-in beak that resembled a chin and a natty vest over a long-sleeved shirt. Unharmed was not entirely correct; There were signs of a good shiner developing around his right eye and there was a speck of purple-green blood in the corner of his beak. Neither of which stopped him from continuing his verbal assault on the woman.

"And you," he pointed to Anders, "How can you just stand there? You're an agent of the law, for Sepilurn's Sake - arrest her, before this whole thing just..."

He sat down with a huff, nearly bouncing on his rotund bottom, "You know what? Fine. FINE! If you don't want to listen to me, if you want to... What is it you say? Something like 'Those who do not study the past are doomed to repeat it?' Well, fine. F. I. N. E. Fine. She," he crossed his arms and nodded towards the woman, "Is your problem. Not mine."

----
To-Do:

Macisikan
New Dornalia

[Sunset]

Macisikan...

"Sure..." There was a pause, as though she was mentally pressing buttons, and numbers popped up next to the notable landmarks. "There you go. Now, since you seem anxious to get rid of me, any chance I could get a bathroom break and a pee-bee-and-jay? Or whatever you've got left over from lunch, really; I'm starving!"

====

It was certainly a start and a good one at that; Image by image the dangling sphere began to breath out different chemical combinations, some close to the previous and others quite distinct. When the images repeated these too repeated. For the psion in the observation room the results were not as clear cut; The alien's emotional state was substantially different than what she'd experienced before but after a few passes there was the distinct impression of recognition and association though something felt off; Each impression took some time to fully realize, as though one emotion was slowly fading into another instead of being quickly realized.

----
To-Do:

New Dornalia

[Caer Lleon]

Arianell didn't want to be here. She'd finally recovered from her ordeal, only to learn that her attacker was still on the run and could be anywhere in Avalon. She'd had some rather cutting things to say about that, but being as she was a well-brought up, and rather unimaginative, young lady they paled in comparison to what the MRTs and commanders had said on the subject. Sir Launcelot and his men were, even know, searching the broken wastes, but the fear was that the monster had very much gone to ground, and officials were nervously preparing for a broadcast on the subject, hoping to get ahead before rumor became panic.

Still, Arianell did not want to be here. "Why do we have to open them?" She demanded, looking back over her shoulder. "Just let them sit!" She was being dressed as if she did want to be here, because it was her responsibility as Queen-and-Empress to support her government's policies. She had, of course, driven herself here, but it would not do for her to appear on the television in a squire's armor too large for her, especially not a boy's armor. Therefore... "Ow! Careful!"

"I'm so sorry, your majesty, the drone controls are being finicky..." As a woman of taste and refinement (or, at least, a girl who wanted to look like a woman of taste and refinement), Arianell was all over the latest fashions. And of late, women of her class had taken to being sewn into their dresses by automated tailor techno-sorcery drones, capable of scanning their target and immediately crafting a (one use only) dress that fit more perfectly than any mortal tailor could manage. But the queen, who struggled to stand still at the best of times, was not the ideal customer, and the area was hardly ideal anyway.

Lord High Treasurer Richard MG, who was a happily married man who had not been staring at his Queen's (rather plush) backside for five minutes (because he wanted to remain happily married), coughed and moved his eyes from the point three feet to the left of her head in order to meet her gaze. "The Round Table, as a body, feels that if there are more hostiles, it would be better to handle them now, rather than allow them to develop into problems on their own. And if they are not hostiles, then perhaps the occupants will know how to deal with the current problem." He had said this before. And he had tried to get out of coming in here to say it again. "As all we know from Sir Launcelot's recording is that your touch opened the... other pod, the fact remains..."

The Queen huffed and turned towards him with a sudden start, sending her maid and the sewing drone scrambling to repair the damage. These newer models (this being a pre-production superior product from the Nippon States, given free to the Queen-and-Empress as a birthday gift) could handle difficult customers, of course, but the maid still needed to adjust both the cloth already on her employer *and* the drone's directions. "I could have died!" Her pink cheeks flushed and her fists clenched, and she threatened, with a violent breath, to burst right out of that dress.

Richard was not impressed. He had raised his own teenage daughters; that this one was (nominally) his boss did not change the matter. "We are all grateful that your knights managed to protect you, and I am sure you have suitably commended them for their efforts, but it is a fair bit too late to be concerned about your health and wellbeing during that incident now." He once more averted his eyes, this time directing them out beyond the tent. "The media is here today to witness our first encounter with alien life that they know of. As our Queen-and-Empress, which I am sure was your consideration, it is your right and duty to lead in this matter." He coughed. "Our people will see you greet our visitors, and we may be sure that you will make a good impression on them. Should our visitors turn hostile, then you will be more than amply protected by the guards we have on hand, and our people will see that your knights can protect them."

Arianell sulked. "...what are you doing about the alien that attacked me, though?" The young queen lifted her arms, letting the little drone begin work on the trimming of her bodice. She didn't much care for criticism, even obliquely. No, she shouldn't have been there. Her maids had told her as much, and apparently one of the squires had been bragging to his friends that his master had seen her tit, because apparently somewhere in the fertile mind of a young man a removed breast-plate was the same thing as losing her shirt. It was the least of her concerns about the incident, but it still rankled.

"I promise you, Your Majesty, everything Your Government can do is being done." The Lord High Treasure meant that, fervently. His position depended, ultimately, on three things. Her Majesty's support, his majority in the Round Table, and the support of the Anglian voters (After all, his district of West Wessex was on the firing line)-who had put him there. All three hung in the balance here.If she withdrew her support, then his majority in Winchester would collapse, which would in turn mean he'd be liable to lose his seat at the next election, and if he lost his seat at the next election, he would find it difficult to command his position as leader of the Conservative People's Bloc in the Round Table, assuming the Liberals even let him maintain his seat in the Round Table until the next session.

Of course, everything Her Government could do was a very short list. They could demand searches and mobilize militias and order knights about, but either the creature would be found or it wouldn't.

She huffed, but accepted that statement at face value for the time being "Who's here?"

"The ABC, of course." This was safer ground. "Some of those brasher chaps from Cabotia caught wind and have tagged along, as did a few continentals. We're holding this at the right time to keep this from the wire services, though. We may be able to get ahead of this story if we act quickly. Prime and the Cabotians will be more sympathetic than the rest of the colonies, let alone those heathens out east." Richard wiped his brow. He could see how this would play in Samarra, if word of the invader reached there before this sanitized story did. And Linen, or whatever they called it, would be worse. As for the dagoes down in Colombiana, well... less said, the better. He didn't need Don Quixote turning up demanding a beast hunt.

"Do not talk about our subjects in that way, Lord High Treasurer." It was a reflex action, with nothing meant by it, and neither of them took it that seriously. "...oh, very well. i shall play my part, Sir Richard. Do I look ravishing?" She held her hands out, as the maid and the drone stepped away. The maid curtsied, as if to present the Queen, and the drone itself bowed forward slightly.

She was ravishing, and he had no concerns about telling her so, or layering it on a bit more to encourage her. The dress fit her like a glove, and the lines were so seamless it seemed she had appeared in it by magic. It was a thoroughly modern cut that the aged Lord High Treasurer did not entirely approve of, seeing as how it exposed cleavage, and elbows, and a good portion of knee. But these were the times they lived in, and it was better by far than her appearing before her people in her regular attire of jeans and a t-shirt. Not that there was anything wrong with Her Majesty's jeans or Her Majesty's t-shirts; they were well-made, well-fashioned, reasonably modest, and perfectly appropriate attire. But people did not want to see their Virgin-Queen appear at official functions dressed as a typical teenage girl, any more than they wanted to see her appear at official functions dressed in boy's armor. Ugh. That would be an expense they'll have to budget for. Her new armor. God willing, she'll be married soon enough that she won't be getting much use out of it, but..."As I say, your majesty, your people await you."

And so it begins

Foy porter,
Honneur garder
Et pais querir,
Oubeir,
Doubter, servir
Et honnourer
Vous vueil jusques au morir,
Dame sans per.

She remembered, in a half-dreamlike state, a time when she had not been Queen-and-Empress. When her grandfather had ruled, and her uncle had been heir, and her cousin Art had been next, and his adorable baby son Machmad had been next, and then if all else failed her father would be king, and her little brother... he would be so energetic now, a squire... so handsome, all her friends would be interested in being his queen... and her father and mother, they would be so proud of her, of who she was, and her mother would hold her again and tell her everything was going to be okay, just like she had... and how daddy and mommy had wanted to stay with her, because she was so upset, but she was so embarrassed, and she had demanded they go without her... and... and...

it took all her will to keep from falling in front of her people. She hated this place. She hated the aliens who had come here. She hated that she had come here in the first place, and had come here again. That hate gave her the strength to put one foot in front of the other. No, she could cry tonight. As she had cried yesterday. Her people needed her to do this. She was the only one who could.

Car tant vous aim, sans mentir,
Qu'on porroit avant tarir
La haute mer
Et ses ondes retenir
Que me peüsse alentir
De vous amer,
Sans fausser;
Car mi penser,
Mi souvenir,
Mi plaisir
Et me desir
Sont sans finer
En vous que ne puis guerpir
N'entroublier.
Foy porter,
Honneur garder
Et pais querir,
Oubeir,
Doubter, servir
Et honnourer
Vous vueil jusques au morir,
Dame sans per.

But she remembered, in that dreamlike haze, that her grandfather had had a different song played in front of his appearances, some song about God and knights and smiting and protecting. But her anthem was a song of love and loyalty and oaths and being protected. Well, was she protected? Had she ever been protected? If she let them, perhaps... mechanically, as she had for the past eight years, she turned towards the cameras and raised a hand. She was told she was to shape her hand as though she was polishing a light-bulb, a stupid comparison. Who polished light bulbs? To her, it always looked more as though she was cupping her breast. Well, either lightbulb or breast, her hand caressed it, and she turned it from side to side, waving as her people expected.

There was cheering. There was always cheering. In some ways, it felt good to be cheered. But in other ways, she wished herself back on that side of the line. Even with Henri. Dear, sweet, stupid Henry. He had died probably within moments of learning that she was now his woman, and not his girl. She could not expect her parents to have kept that from him. Well, that was one good thing about the Star-Fall.

The thought caused her expression to falter, momentarily, but she slapped the smile back on her face, hopefully before the camera caught her. She'd pay for that thought at confession, in addition to the pain it caused her now; pain that washed through her body from head to toe and then centered itself, sharply, in her heart.

She reached the point between the two unopened pods. This entire event had been arranged so as to hide the pod that had attacked her from others. Indeed, they'd put a large tent back there that, as near as she could tell, served no purpose except to have people milling in and out. Were people that stupid? No, probably not. But it would give them time to think of how to approach the subject, or that was the hope. With another smile, she turned back towards the camera and the crowd and raised her hand. She missed Caliburn. But without her armor, she could barely carry it (Not that she couldn't carry it. For her, it was always of mortal heaviness, not of impossible weight). The thin small-sword she wore at her hip barely counted as a weapon, in that she could use it passably, and any weapon she was capable of using did not feel like a weapon. A few words seemed called for. She had none that came to mind. She had speechwriters for big events; they had thrown this together too quickly.

Foy porter,
Honneur garder
Et pais querir,
Oubeir,
Doubter, servir
Et honnourer
Vous vueil jusques au morir,
Dame sans per.

That was her cue, the end of the anthem, and she had timed her steps right. The great standard lay in front of her. She knelt, as the Empress Ioan d'Arque had once knelt. With a confidence she did not feel, and a smile she could not force to touch her eyes (and which were relieved to be closed), she placed her right hand on her heart and whispered the appropriate words, then moved her hand from forehead to stomach, and across her shoulders. As she finished her prayer, she whispered a final one. "I do not understand you or your ways, but I have faith, and in that faith I have my hope, and in my hope there is truth, and in that truth there is you, oh Lord."

Finally she regained her feet. "The word is a lamp, and a path to our feet! It has shown us the way to the world, and it will show us the way beyond! We are, each of us, saved, and in that salvation is security, and with security comes a duty. I am here, now, to do mine, on your behalf! When the time comes, I pray that you all will do yours on mine!" More cheering. She'd stolen the words from somewhere, but they didn't care, or she hoped they wouldn't care. She'd not worry about it.

Well, she couldn't put it off any further. With a slow march, trying for all the world to not look as though she was walking to her grave, she walked to the pod on the right. Once more, she crossed herself, then kissed the tip of her fingers and pressed forward, praying for peace.

[Sunset]

New Dornalia...

"Mhm," Stephen took another sip of his drink before rolling the ice around in his glass, a pleasant tinkling sound heralding the subtle swirl of well-aged bourbon, "I will give it my best, Miss Kournikova - my absolutely best. And do not assume any notion of hyperbole on my part, though my claims may sound extravagant! But we shall get to that in good time; Betrayal, Capture, Escape, and Slavery - and only in that order! So, let us start with the first, though that itself is of sizable interest, especially," he gestured with the glass to those of the dark suits and mirrored sunglasses tribe, "Those of a security-minded bend."

"You see, our story really begins on the distant... Say," he looked around, studying the faces of those around him, the sky, and then the paving stones under his feet, "Where am I, anyone? Never been adequately explained, that one, but one supposes that the presence of a Happy Happy Foods at least puts one on the periphery of civilized space and judging by present company," he turned to the Detective and winked, "Closer to the center than the edge."

"But as I was about to say, this story begins on the distant agricultural world of Anuke, in the Ares System, the mighty core of the Republic of Sunset, of which I am one of the more notable citizens. Now, you may not know this, but in addition to my scientific and industrial pursuits, I am also something of an archaeologist - amateur, to be particularly humble..."

At this several members of his audience turned to each other and exchanged skeptical glances. Well-known, certainly, but whatever expeditions he had led in the past - and there were several - could best be described as 'looting'; Not a single scientific paper had been published in any reputable publication. There was a cough from the particularly attractive woman in the smart pantsuit and he continued, "...And during the search for a new domicile I happened across rumors of an interesting find to be made below the surface of that sparse southern plantation."

"And right I was," he raised a hand, one finger swirling in emphatic triumph, "For you see, I found there - buried in caves long-lost to the eons - the last refuge of the Sh'Dos! But I also found there my doom - remind me to relate that doom later, my dear - for you see the Sh'Dos were not as dead as one might imagine. They had left behind both traps and plans and one of these plays a role most central. But I, of course, was interested in the pursuit of the intellectual and finding these ruins bereft of mystery I resolved to move on."

Another drink and he sat forward, eyeing those around him in a most conspiratorial fashion and, his voice low, he continued, "But mark this; I was encouraged in my next endeavor by Miss Seventeen, my able assistant, but I now have my suspicions as to her real motives. Perhaps those of you with the ability to ask such questions will put them forward, eh? But later, later," he assured, sitting back again and taking off his hat to momentarily fan himself.

"Now, I am sure most of you know well my greatest triumph; That is, the nutritional supplement SEXYE. As guarantees would violate the guidelines held to by several government agencies, let me say that it is not recommended as a treatment for any disease or illness and that any benefits are individual and have not been evaluated by... Well, that is what my lawyers advised me to say before I showed them the airlock;" This drew laughter, both honest and nervous; "But doubtless many of you know and understand its entirely coincidental benefits."

There was a fair rumble of agreement from the crowd and he held up a hand, "But when I had determined to expand my industrial footprint, Miss Seventeen encouraged an entirely different direction and, in a show of remarkable independence that I was previously sure that the chemical brainwashing had erased, she had already partially put into action. We would become Ambrose Military Industries, purveyor of fine spacecraft and assorted militaria. Our headquarters would be on the barren moon Minamoto, one of a handful orbiting the gaseous body Hachiman - again, in the Ares System. Mark that well - again, our story takes us in interesting directions!"

----
To-Do:

New Dornalia; To Be Continued!
Caer Lleon

[Macisikan]

Interview Room 3
The Agent stared at the map for a moment and tilted his head as though listening to some internal voice. “A civilian transport has been arranged to take you to Notch. It will arrive in one hour,” he seemed to be reading from an internal script, or repeating what someone else was saying.

“Estimated travel time… four days,” he refocused on Falk. “I will have someone bring you something to eat; and then escort you to the bathroom…” his nose wrinkled. “Might I suggest you use more than just the lavatory; whatever was in that pod is not doing you any favours. Excuse me,” with that, he left.

A voc showed up a moment later; it had with it an MRE. Better than nutrient paste, but not exactly what you’d want to eat given the choice. With deft movements it showed her how to open it – the sent of chicken and spices wafted up as it was opened.

Once she was done, as promised, the bathroom. The voc politely waited outside – though it wasn’t like she’d be able to do anything. The only circuits that she could access without tearing right through the floor or walls were the ones powering the lights. That said, the room would be swept once she’d used it, with all the thoroughness an extremely paranoid intelligence agency could muster. First with scanners, then by hand, and then with flamethrowers. Nothing was left to chance.

Agent Savin was waiting by the airlock for her.

---

Lab 72
Ychan was humming with delight; progress was slowly being made.

Soon, simple pictograms were introduced; the story being retold with the symbols, and then the symbols representing the vocs, and then one representing a human – photos to associate with each.

Then came the first test; an image of the orb, along with several stylised representations arranged around it. A choice was being offered; what do you want to represent yourself? Meanwhile, the chemical scents were recorded, and a special voc was being modified to be able to exhale those scents.

“[amusement] Our accent will be atrocious,” Ychan had quipped to one of the engineers.

The psion’s report was more disappointing; recognition and association, but no real emotions. The difference seemed to be speed; as though the orb didn’t think as fast as its hosts. Still, it was an improvement; some creatures they’d encountered had been so alien that trying to feel their minds could drive a person mad.

[Senkaku]

I love when Internet problems delete my work >:|

Senkaku...

Disregarding that cutting open a container that may well contain a living, breathing being both of unknown construction and with a tool that may well incinerate both the interior and the inhabitant would be considered criminal - nay, murderously negligent - among nearly any other civilization except the most callous or irreverent, the contents of the first capsule were thankfully intact. The first indication was when the end of the capsule came off and a gush of purple liquid surged out to splatter both cutters in viscous gel. It wasn't harmful and in fact it felt as though it was barely there - at least until their arms fell asleep. That would be several minutes forward of the present moment, however.

First it was the blonde woman's turn to look inside and laying on what was now the floor of the capsule was a little person. Or at least it looked like a little person until it - he - sat up and clapped a thick hand to his head, opened his eyes, and screamed, "You! No - No way. We Are Not Doing This Again."

Every word was capitalized and plainly audible; There was no chance for either mis-translation or misunderstanding. Positively leaping to his feet, he gave her both a good chance to pick out the details and for him to nearly poke her in the nose with the finger of accusation, "Did you not hear me?"

To keep the description short, he looked very much like someone had crossed a Hobbit with Leptoceratops Gracilis - right down to the pushed-in beak that resembled a chin and a natty vest over a long-sleeved shirt. Unharmed was not entirely correct; There were signs of a good shiner developing around his right eye and there was a speck of purple-green blood in the corner of his beak. Neither of which stopped him from continuing his verbal assault on the woman.

"And you," he pointed to Anders, "How can you just stand there? You're an agent of the law, for Sepilurn's Sake - arrest her, before this whole thing just..."

He sat down with a huff, nearly bouncing on his rotund bottom, "You know what? Fine. FINE! If you don't want to listen to me, if you want to... What is it you say? Something like 'Those who do not study the past are doomed to repeat it?' Well, fine. F. I. N. E. Fine. She," he crossed his arms and nodded towards the woman, "Is your problem. Not mine."

----
To-Do:

Macisikan
New Dornalia

West Beach
Koh Prada
Kampong 4
Surciel City
Abadian Sea
Penglai
Surciel Electorate

---

Assuming they were dealing with nothing but the fluorocarbon acceleration gel that was on almost every ship in the League, the two cutting technicians simply wiped themselves off, heading back to one of the mini-motorcade of SEPOC hovers waiting across the street from the beach in front of one of the apartment buildings that towered over Koh Prada's shores.

The woman from SEPOC took a slight step backwards in the face of the creature's fury and jabbing finger, and Anders' hand crept towards the plasma taser at his waist before he realized the voltage would probably be lethal to such a small entity. Then it seemed to round on him, in furious Common, invoking a deity or entity he'd never heard of before- does it somehow know her? Is it an operative or something?

"Are you two acquainted, by any chance?", Anders said to her in Surciellois, but she simply shook her head, looking as utterly baffled as he was. Bizarre. He couldn't tell this funny, beaked creature's species or sex- he knew, from rather unfortunate experience, that aliens' appearances could be deceiving. Not taking his eyes off the odd-looking beast, Anders snapped his fingers and beckoned for a few of the Action Department officers behind him to come forward, while he began speaking in hesitant, slightly accented Common. Always reassuring to have some strong people with assault rifles standing next to you.

"Sir, or madam, or- however you may style yourself- I'm afraid I really must ask you to be respectful towards myself and my colleague here, we're only here to help." The creature sat down in a huff, offering an indignant riposte and crossing its arms, and Anders frowned. "I understand you've probably had a difficult" - what is the word? -"commute" - doesn't sound right -"but this woman is an officer of the Supreme Executive Political Oversight Commission and I must insist you treat her with respect. I am Captain Anders Wu of the Public Safety Bureau- would you be willing to come with me to somewhere where we can get you a bit more comfortable and ask you a few questions? I'm sure after all this difficulty we'd hate to have to cause any more fuss for you." He forced a smile- if it understands Common, it probably knows how human smiling works, more or less, right? At least that I'm not going to eat it?

No sooner had the words left his mouth, however, than Alma's voice suddenly began chattering nervously into his ear. "Anders? I just got word that those two technicians who got splattered with that gel are reporting numbness or loss of feeling in the arms- get whatever creature you've got into custody and get out, I'm sending ambulances and a biohazard team ASAP." He glanced around, noting that the Action Department officers and the SEPOC woman had all slightly inclined their heads as well, as if listening to someone in their ears- they were getting word too.

He looked at the creature, awaiting a response, and heard a click as one of the Action Department officers set the stun baton hanging from her waist to the lowest setting. "Wait," he murmured in Surciellois. "Let's give it a chance to go quietly- three seconds probably won't kill us, if we're still alive after all this chit-chat."

[Sunset]

Caer Lleon...

It all happened the same as it had happened before, though she had not seen the entirety of it. Her hand touched the smooth glass surface of the capsule, as flat and neutral as though she was touching a window on a cloudy summer day. A faint aura appeared around it, a black shadow that remained after she lifted her hand, though she did not fully retract it. Instead she watched as a thin line of orange light appeared in the interstitial between one shell and another. In the space of a single breath it traced not her hand but the dark shadow.

This faded away and the outline was filled from the bottom with light, the hand-print created at once a hand and not; A parody of a hand. On either side, just where the previous had opened, the same lines appeared and raced from top to bottom and left to right. Whether she had simply chosen well or whether the hidden mechanism that created the opening had chosen for her, she was now looking at a doorway, her breath caught in her throat. The swirling magenta fluid concealed under the transparent shell flowed away to leave in its place a black mass.

The outline became thick and then thin, the shell retreating as it did, and there was nothing but the shadow and the figure falling out of it, falling into her arms. It twisted as it fell and she followed her impulse, reaching out to catch and support it as it rolled into the cradle of her arms.

It was a man - she knew that at once - and terrible visions flashed before her eyes as she looked down at his ravaged face. Memories of men and women in narrow, flat beds. Of sheets drawn up under their arms, of sheets drawn up over their heads and the sad, slow shake of the Doctor's chin. Weeping scars covered his face and his hair came away in her hand; His lips were cracked and swollen with purple blood. But there was something familiar in his eyes and brow.

Eyes opened and she nearly dropped him as a name caught in her throat. A knight stepped forward, knelt to take him, but she wrapped her arms around him and held firm. He wore a uniform and it was not the uniform she knew and she knew it was not him, could not be him, but here in her arms those eyes looked up at her before drifting closed again, his breath ragged and perhaps fading.

====

In a deep shadow at the bottom of the lake a shape moved, moving here and there and sometimes accompanied by a thick branch or well-shaped rock. One by one these were deposited in the mud until a form rose, nearly piercing the veil of the cleft to reveal itself as a shelter. Moving the last into place it rose to the surface, only the curve of its short tail breaching the water. A slow spout of sputtering water and it breathed deep before propelling itself back to the bottom, curling in among the arranged wood and stone.

It was an hour later when it at last pushed to the surface again, turning its back on the construction to swim away just under the surface towards the far side of the lake. Behind it left both the work of its hands and a dozen of the thickest spines from the crest that ran across its back, now sunk into the mud and each wriggling with new life...

----
To-Do:

New Dornalia; To Be Continued!
Macisikan
Senkaku

[Caer Lleon]

Arianell slumped under the weight of the man, her arms tightened around him. She didn't hear the knights around her. Her fingers brushed over his face, not caring that he watched her. It couldn't be. He was dead, he had died with her family, but this man... this man... Her rational mind interposed at some point. The boy, (she used that word familiarly, more than she should have) needed help. Medical care. Oh, he was a man... and a handsome man; had he ever been so handsome? She did not know; she only remembered him as he was, as a boy, who had decided that she would be his, who would know no other partner and no other woman, who treated her as a credit in his books and kissed her as though it was a duty. But...but... but...she had been a child, then. Perhaps were he a man, and she a woman, it would be different.

She was a woman... and this was a man. And he...

Arianell realized, suddenly, that she was on the ground, and his head, not-Henry's head lay across her breast. And were it Henry, that would perhaps be acceptable, but he was not, he could not be, and so his head should not be there. His eyes, which were pained and tired and oh so very old, showed he had realized much the same thing, but she would not let him try to move. Her hand came up, instead, holding him to her, her heart vibrating under his ear. "Don't move. It's okay." She whispered. "You're safe now."

"Majesty, we must get him to medical care." She was helped to her feet, and he was taken from her, and she felt as a mother having her child taken from her arms, and she issued a wordless protest, but he managed that weak smile from those lips, and her voice stilled in his throat. Oh, it was not Henry's smile; it was too knowing, too hidden, too powerful. But it was the kind of smile she had always hoped she would see on his face when he looked at her, and her mouth closed, and he was taken away from her.

And she squared herself, quietly, for there was one more pod, and then her duty would be done, and she would go to this man, this not-Henry, and learn his business, and whether he be friend or foe. And then she would decide what her pleasure would be.

====

The medical tent at the event was, of course, not really planned for this level of emergency. But there were healers and cleaners available., and they behaved efficiently, stripping 'not-Henry' of his uniform and anything else he might be wearing, then laying him on a clean bed Which was fitting, as he would soon be cleaned himself. Drones, doctors... they busied themselves with their work around their patient, while a pair of knights stood between the door and an anxious media, wanting to know what happened.

Not-Henry was woken, briefly. A burst of consciousness that came from without. "We'll be putting you back under soon, boy, but if you have a name we'd like to know it." The nurse, businesslike, responsible, with a strange glowing needle in her hand.

[Genomita]

Orbital defense station Ammuk's spear, orbit above Dira

The dim, red light of celing-mounted lamps barely illuminated the station's command room, though none of the three Diran were bothered by the weak light. The sideways-facing eyes atop their heads were fully focused on the nearly circular computer screens that almost surrounded them, making full use of their wide field of vision. Their legless lower bodies were seated on large, pale brown drops of gel that slightly shifted beneath them to keep them stable. The only visual cues of the current silent alert aside from the data displayed on their screens were agitated twitches of the aliens' head crests that extended down the lengths of their backs and and swaying motions of their almost eel-like tails while four-fingered webbed hands typed away at their keyboards at a rapid pace, pectoral fins tighly pressed against the gel seats.

Just a moment ago an unidentified object had appeared on their sensors like it had popped out of nowhere, and was now hurtling towards the planet at great speed.

"Unknown object heading directly towards Dira. Orbital defense screen fully operational. Response from defense platforms comfirmed... Glancing hit! I repeat, a glancing hit! No observable damage to unknown object!" said the smallest of the three in a raspy voice, a male with light brown eyes and black stripes down the length of his otherwise mud-brown body.

"Spirits preserve us, that thing is tough! Didn't even budge from the impact. And it's fast! Now calculating trajectory..." the smaller of the two females in the room replied, her pale green and tan fingers furiously working her keyboard, sandy yellow eyes drinking in calculations from the almost laughably old-fashioned-looking monitor in the otherwise largely smooth and organic interior. "Estimated point of impact: Taghazi bog in Makhuna, less than .1 clicks away from our position!"

"Which means it will pass almost right by us." The larger of the females noted, her voice a deep, pleasant contralto that only slightly betrayed the onset of nervousness she felt. "Anything notable in this area?" she asked, sea-green eyes still glued to the monitor surrounding her, fingers the color of fertile soil resting atop her keyboard.

"Yes commander, the area was hallowed following the deeds and recent passing of high shamaness Dhana of clan Nejir and a spirit pagoda was constructed where she was lowered into the bog. One of several in the area, which are maintained and looked after by Dhana's daughter and student Dhunja, who also performed the rites." came the reply from the male Diran, who watched the screen as more shots glanced the target, all to no effect. "Still no damage to the object! Commander, if we act now we can put ourselves between the object and the planet and stop this!"

The commander responded with an almost imperceptible shake of her head. "No."

"But, commander!" The male Diran's fingers hovered over his keyboard, frozen just above the controls when he found his superior had a sidearm trained on him, and looking fully prepared to use it.

"Soldier Nejir Pala, your readiness to sacrifice yourself for your the safety of your people is commendable, but I will not allow you to sacrifice all the people in this station just to protect a dead body and the shrine containing it, sacred ground or not, and rain debris and our [i]corpses all over Makhuna along with the object! This is a vital defense station of our homeworld, and every soul on this thing is under my command. You will not move this station anywhere, or mark my words I will shoot you here and now!"[/i]

Pala raised his hands away from the console, a dejected look on the young soldier's face. "U-understood... ma'am."

"If anybody dies because of this, I will take full responsibility for it. You have my word, as commander of this station and as daughter of clan Juqin. Either way, send word to the defense force and have them dispatch a search and retrieval squad. All the works. Also send a warning to the temple guard of that shaman, on the off-chance she's currently in the area. The best we can do now is figure out where this thing came from, and how.
-----

Spirit pagoda in Taghazi bog, Makhuna.

Dhunja was deep in a trance. Her face hidden by an elaborate mask painted in striking shades of blue and dark purple, an abstract representation of the spirit of the night sky, the young Diran shaman was lying under the southern skylight of the spirit pagoda. Unfocused, half-closed eyes gazed into the starry night, almost but not quite looking at one of the planet's twin moons. It was a beautiful night, to be sure, and Dhunja was blissfully unaware of the fiery object streaking through the sky towards her.

The object with earth-shatting force, passing through the roof of lacquered wood as if it wasn't there, pulverizing beautifully carved and lovingly painted floor tiles of cermiamic and wood and embedding itself into the swampy ground below. By some miracle Djunja was spared the hail of broken wood that rained down from the ruined roof, even as she was thrown up and landed awkwardly on top of the object, arms spread out as if she attempted to embrace it, her mask coming askew and falling off her face, earbuds playing soft, monotonous drum beads coming loose as she landed. The impact forced the air from her lungs, leading to a mixture of coughs and shuddering breaths as the young shaman slowly regained her conciousness. The sound of footsteps and bodies slithering across the muddy ground slowly began to reach her as she began to awake from her trance.

The first thing her still-hazy mind registered was the hole in the formerly polished floor beneath her and that the mummified visage of her late mother looked back at her. It seemed the same miracle thath ad spared her had also caused the strange, magenta object to miss the hallowed bog body of the late high shamaness, if not by much. It actually seemed to lean a little away from her, though only time would tell if it would remain that way.

"Wha... what in the world? What in the spirits names is going on here???" the young shamaness' voice cried out as she began to realize her situation, jaw firmly planted on the strange object, eyes almost bulging out of her head, head crest raised high in shock. For the moment the young Diran could only stare numbly at the chaos surrounding her, at a complete loss for words.

[Sunset]

Macisikan...

"Well;" Trinya came to a stop, the hatch between them and with a blop of cloth flipping back and forth between her gloved hands, "I guess this is it, right? You know, I haven't thanked you yet. I don't think you're the hug type, or even the handshake type, but thanks, Agent Savin. You - the Realm - didn't have to save me, but you did."

Tucking the cloth into one of the pouches that hung from her armor, she reached up and swirled her long brown hair into a tight and only slightly messy bun before again retrieving whatever it was and putting it on her head, arranging it into a beret with a sunburst logo stitched into the fabric. Tucking the flop into place with her thumb, she put her hands at her side and then drew one up into a salute, "How about that? Thank you, again. The food wasn't half-bad either," she finished with a smile.

"If you ever find yourself out there," she glanced to the airlock and the void beyond, "And you need something, give me a call. And if you happen across Lae? Tell him to get his butt home..."

====

[Nervous] then [Curious] and a useful data point, as the chemicals wafting through the air corresponded to the indications, though separated by some period of time appropriate to their synthesis. That seemed to be the momentary end of the questioning though, as there was a short flutter from the eye-stalks before they one-by-one drooped to hang limply. Then the orb itself began to move slowly wherever the wind took it - sleep had finally overtaken it and it was some many hours before it would move again.

----
To-Do:

New Dornalia; To Be Continued!
Senkaku
Caer Lleon
Genomita

[Sunset]

New Dornalia; To Be Continued!

"Now, I will confess that I have little interest in the design, construction, sales, or service of the various elements of militaria, but here my able assistant Miss Seventeen proved herself more than able; Appropriate for someone designed by the great genius - That is, me," he laughed, casually slapping one knee with an open hand and then putting it on Detective Kournikova's, "To serve as the perfect assistant. Why, as soon as we'd arrived, I found that she'd been busy for some time previous both planning and erecting an industrial complex on the surface of that barren moon. Hiring a staff on the cheap and straight out of university, we put them to work and soon had several viable designs though for those of you who might express interest - I now believe Ambrose Military Industries is no longer in business, for reasons that will become obvious!"

"Miss Seventeen, as I have mentioned, proved herself of the greatest assistance in this work and finding myself bored with the minutia, I promoted her to CEO while retaining the title of President for myself. Or was it the other way around?" For a moment he tapped on his chin and looked up at the sky, "No - it must have been the first. Putting aside the day to day, I was able to retreat to my laboratory and my research, though this - and again, mark this well - would require the production of a new laboratory assistant. At once I turned to the task..."

His eyes began to drift from here to there, focusing on nothing in particular as he absently stroked the knee under his hand, "Yes, she was beautiful. Is, I presume, though others here might be able to inform me better. Raven black hair, slender and curved, petite and with a delightfully exotic cast to her face. Eyes of violet and lashes dark with perfect lips that quiver expectantly... Well! You must understand the work that went into her design and yes, when I pulled her from the tank, I was as pleased as one might expect!"

"And then she betrayed me!"

"Or rather, not her - and again I return to my previous words - but her treachery was not her own! I believe it was the work of these Sh'Dos, whose presence I had uncovered on the nearby planet Anuke. My best guess is that they were able to somehow corrupt her in the womb, altering her construction so as to implant their own desires upon her in direct opposition to my engineering designs! Dark and insidious are the works of the Sh'Dos and," he pointed a bony finger at several present, irregardless of whether they actually had anything to do with such things, "You would be well-advised to consult with your opposites so they will not visit on you the woe that has fallen on me!"

"Now, as I was saying, I had retreated to my laboratory and my research and in this the newly created Miss Nineteen assisted me. My days proceeded pleasantly, testing this or that, until I was alerted to the presence of a threat deep within my own lair! Invaders, attackers - boiling out of the depths, they had already overwhelmed my patrolling Minions when the alarm was sounded. Well, I would detail further, but as this would make an excellent premise for an action movie, I will leave that for the novelization. Suffice to say that an alien presence I now believe to be motivated by the Sh'Dos had inserted itself into the depths of the moon. The very core in fact, though..."

His hand rubbed at the smooth stubble of his chin and a finger leapt into the air in sudden realization, "Ah ha! Doubtless the presence of alien machinery in the depths of Minamoto - that is, the furthest moon of the planet Hachiman - was not due to coincidence alone but rather deliberate duplicity! In fact, I believe it was Miss Nineteen who, having slipped free from the bonds of my service and finding herself an unused moment, made her way into the depths and laid the seeds of infestation! And perhaps... But I return to point in a moment."

"The battle was fierce," he went on, gesturing widely as his hands followed the ebb and flow of combat, "With my Minions facing off against the unknown hordes. In fact, so lethal was the combat that - Spoiler Alert! - my able Agent 16 fell in battle and I was forced to begin the process of rejuvenating her without the advantage of a body. Taking to the field myself and leading my men into battle, we managed to push the enemy back to their very core by virtue of heavy losses. The tunnels were slick with blood, mercury, and jelly beans but the day was ours and we found there the alien machinery."

"In the process of extracting the vitality from the heart of the moon, it at first seemed impossible to deactivate. I had set Miss Nineteen to the task and she claimed ignorance but, in my haste, I ignored this obvious clue. Instead I took my trusty fire ax - a weapon I have made proficient use of in the past - and issued several sharp blows to the machine to shut it down. This, I felt, would be the end of the matter but this was not to be; Instead, I turned and yelled my triumph, not noticing the delicate, sensual foot extended between my own. A trip, a stumble, and," he tapped his chest meaningfully, "Her treachery was complete as the point of the fire ax rushed to meet me as I fell..."

----
To-Do:

Senkaku
Caer Lleon
Genomita

[Sunset]

Senkaku...

"Respectfully? Respect?" He eyed the officer as if he'd suddenly grown a tail, three eyes, and a million dollars from his chin, "You don't know what you're doing, do you? It's like... You don't remember, do you? I mean, I'm not at all shocked." Heaving himself to his feet, he brushed past the four and headed down the beach before turning to stare at her, "Am I under arrest? Am I being detained? Aren't those the rules? Have I done anything wrong? Or are you simply so moronic that you treat all rescued travelers as suspicious or as potential victims of your incompetence?"

"Though," he looked her up and down, "That explains everything. A shadowy government agency - whatever happened to 'Protect and Serve?' Your government doesn't deserve respect - and its agents shouldn't expect it - given what it has done. What it continues to do - maybe what it will do? Hadn't thought of that," he admitted, his voice drifting away as he finished this last statement.

"...hadn't considered that at all. But that doesn't change anything," he noted sourly, again looking towards the female agent, "Nothing at all! You should get her out of her, get yourself somewhere safe. Before it all happens again. Or for the first time? Now I've got myself confused, but it doesn't matter, does it? You," he pointed at her, "Should be ashamed. I'd suggest worse, but that's just not polite, is it?"

"Well, given all that - let's go. We've little time before she puts her foot in it, and I have no desire to end up like those two," he pointed to the two men with rifles. "Sorry, but there's nothing you can do about it. Make sure you tell your children you love them, if you have any..."

Turning again, he began to hike up the beach towards the waiting line of hover vehicles, "Seriously - leave her behind, Captain Wu. You'll regret it if you don't."

"Or better yet, put a bullet between her eyes," he grumbled below his breath.

----
To-Do:

Caer Lleon
Genomita

[Macisikan]

OOC: Co-authored with Dornie.
IC:
Airlock 89, Station 5
Standing, a little more detail about the agent was clear; average height, fit build, nondescript face. The only insignia designating allegiance was a little octagonal badge over the right breast; in a field sable, a hand gules sinister. There was no other identifying mark, other than the three circular pips on his collar.

He raised an eyebrow at her words; surprise crossing his face for the first time since he’d met her, but whatever thought caused that expression wasn’t given a voice.

“If we locate your husband, we will have him repatriated,” he said instead. “I should warn you; the ISS are not the most social people, but there will likely be a decent book on board. Fair wind at your back, Lieutenant Falk of the Republic of Sunset.”

---

…on her way…
The Lieutenant found herself aboard another patrol boat; this one piloted by a pair of humanoids. One was human, but the other sported a pair of pointed ears. Neither seemed inclined to talk. True to the agent’s words, there was indeed a decent set of books, made of genuine processed dead tree; most seem to have been sourced from twentieth century Earth. Primarily Agatha Christie murder mysteries, but a scattering of fantasy novels and a few thrillers.

The passage away from the station was uneventful, although one of the pilots was thoughtful enough to have a screen where Falk could see it display what was in front of the craft; a swirling eruption of colours as a wormhole blossomed into space.

On the other side, a Dornalian transport waited; she was ushered aboard into the waiting arms of the Dornies – a far more welcoming and pleasant people.

---

…and with the Dornies.
The Dornalians were indeed far more pleasant, even if somewhat eccentric. The leader of the crew in particular seemed to have stepped straight out of central casting for “grizzled old coot/prospector” in an old B-movie Western set in modern times. The man was a tall, somewhat wiry man with clear East Asian ancestry, and he looked to be in his forties--although given the nature of his profession, that could have just been the long, lonely hours of traversing the spacelanes taking their toll. He was clad in hard-worn, yet sturdy denim jeans with a button up flannel shirt, and a cream-colored Stetson which designated his leadership role.

The others around him were attired in a more diverse array of clothing choices--everything from basic coveralls to sweatshirts bearing the names of various universities and even tv shows the Lieutenant probably had heard of...assuming she knew people who watched Dornalian TV. Otherwise, the references would fly over Falk’s head. There were normal humans, but also women and men with what appeared to be extra dog and cat ears and tails--although they were human enough otherwise.

The Captain himself, having introduced himself as Tom Tanaka of the EverSon Logistics Corporation, welcomed Falk aboard. Then, in an accent which seemed to echo the oilfields and agricultural fields of Bakersfield, California, Tom said simply, if Falk chose to disclose her encounter with the men with the red handed-badges, “Whew. Guy with red handed badge? You got lucky, ma’am. I have a shortlist of people who I don’t wanna piss off, and those guys are at the top of it, along with maybe the Dornalian Revenue Service. But as far as I know? Taxman only takes money when he’s pissed.”

---

Lab 72
While the orb slept, Ychan ordered the lab to be made a little more, well, pleasant. A D-class droid was wrapped in padding and ordered to very gently shepherd the orb away from anything sharp-edged, while others removed any of the equipment it could get tangled up in, and moved the pod into a corner.

The lighting was also dialled down during the orb’s rest cycle.

Meanwhile, urgent requests for anything remotely matching the orb’s biological profile were sent to the Throneworld and the Sector Capitals, and operatives scoured the DataNet for anything that could assist.

Several promising leads were discovered – indications of gas giant-based ecosystems. Now, they just had to find one with the most similar atmospheric profile. It was almost certain that this being did not originate within the Realm, but perhaps they could synthesise something it could consume.

The interior of the capsule itself was examined for any biological residue – dead skin cells for example – anything they could use to sample the creature’s DNA without forcibly taking it from the orb itself.

Ychan’s initial report indicated practical certainty that the orb was a sentient being; he also put in a request for a stasis expert to be sent. He had a dark suspicion that they would end up needing to put the orb back into hibernation.

Meanwhile, Falk’s capsule was being examined with an eye to disassembly and reverse-engineering, while the debris continued to be assessed.

[Sterkistan]

Sterkian Military Faction
Londo Bell
Fierellen Sector | Discovery

Captain Bright sat back in his command chair. The Ra Cailum and the accompanying Clop-Class, the Ra Dels, a white and red ship, floated along the outer side of the Fierellen Sector. They launched after picking up an object in the outer sector of the sector.
The Radar Technician, Grace Kilo picked up the object as they drew close.
"We've got it..."
Bright caught onto the waver in her voice, speaking up.
"It?"
She continued,
"Well... There's more than one, varying sizes. We should have visual in 40 seconds."
He looked out the window, squinting as he wondered what they could have possibly gotten themselves into.

The 40 seconds felt like an eternity as the ships approached the object.
"We have visual, putting it up." The navigator, Mikael Burnstein said, tapping his controls until a magnified image of the object came up.
"Looks like debris, get us closer and run a scan. We need to know how it got here."
bright responded, and he tapped on his armrest console, picking up the handset.
"Bravo, you're up. Get to your Mobile Suits and prepare to head out."
Bright placed the handset back, and the magnets held it down in the zero-gravity.

The ships slowly approached, getting to the edge of the debris.
Grace spoke up again.
"There's something in there." She pointed out the main window, to where a dot of magenta light sat in the depths of the debris.
Bright brought the image up on the main console, cycling through visible spectrums, seeing three magenta capsules, mostly obscured by the debris.
He picked the handset up again.
"All hands, put on Normal Suits. Bravo 1, 2, 3 and 4 will launch and investigate the POI."
As the pilots closed their cockpits and the screens activated, a marker appeared in the approximate location of the magenta capsules.

The airlocks opened fully for the catapult decks, and two of the four ReZEL's stepped onto the deck, locking their feet into the launcher. Before it shot forward, launching the suits and retracting quickly for the other two to enter.
As they were launching, Bright pressed another button on his armrest console, and it opened a line to the Ra Dels
"Lieutenant, get some suits out there to analyse the debris."
Bright closed the connection once again, placing the handset back.
Once the four ReZEL's had launched, they folded into Waverider mode and flew parallel to the field, before turning in sharply and halving their speed. Navigating through the mess of debris. twirling and looping gracefully as they approached their goal.

As they approached the canisters, the Ra Dels opened it's own mobile suit deck. Two Jegans emerging from the ship, followed by three Petite MS worker suits. Who flew to the field, collecting and analysing pieces of the debris. The ReZEL's in the meantime, had reached their goal. Scanning the capsules before reporting in to the Ra Cailum.
"Captain, we've got the capsules. They aren't emitting anything by the looks of them. What do we do?"
Bright spoke, "Copy that Bravo 001, bring them back to the ship. Let the engineers check them out."

A green light flashed on the comms screen and the link closed. The ReZELs returning to base, the capsules sitting neatly in their palms. The fingers covering them carefully to protect them from micro-meteors. And they came back aboard, landing on the catapult decks and walking inside, the airlock doors closing behind them and the hangar pressurising.
They set the capsules down carefully as Bright came down from the bridge, floating along the corridors and hallways until he opened the door to the hangar, floating down from the catwalk to where the engineers were looking at the capsules.

"What are we looking at?" He asked.
The head engineer, Katz Koya ran his hand through his hair.
"Question of the day. They could be a few things; capsules, fuel tanks, or bombs."
Bright looked up and down the capsules, as the four ReZEL pilots watched from their cockpit hatches, one of them eating.
"Well... Open them up and find out." He responded, standing back and watching as the engineers got to work.

[Sunset]

Caer Lleon...

"Kapten..." Lips stiff with blood cracked and bled and his eyes winced in voluntary pain, "Kapten Ehward Dheluetto... Who... Where..."

The needle tore a hole and his voice faded, his heartbeat settling from a rattling tremor to something more steady, more considered. Once cut away, his uniform revealed wounds as terrible as one might imagine but the surgeon's hand was steady and things seemed to be largely where they should be. Fire had scorched his hide, a leg was broken, and his shoulder dislocated, and what could only be the wounds associated with his profession had pierced his body through and through.

But he would live.

====

Her hand paused. The careful pause up the slope of one crater and down another had taken more from her than she would have thought and she once again held her hand just above the surface of the capsule. What new terror would visit her? Was she cursed? First a monster, then a man made terrible. What would be next? A myriad of horrors broke the surface of her thoughts but none lasted. Instead she called on the last of her hidden strength, clenched her hand into a fist, and then spread it firm across the magenta glass.

Once again the functions followed the form but this time faster, as though familiarity had breed with it speed rather than contempt. Or was it contempt? Or was it simply that there was nothing unexpected until the final shadow faded away to reveal whatever it had contained? Here her breath caught...

At first she mistook it for a bird. Sleek feathered wings wrapped around a body, hiding its face and beak behind the one that faced the door. Then she looked careful to find scales mixed in among the quills, purple, blue, and green. Clawed feet touched the bottom of the pod and the knight beside her stepped back, a hiss from under his visor, "...harpy!"

Perhaps, but no. A long tail wound around the scaled legs and fanned out into a wide brush. Merely a moment later a wing dropped and a lengthy but thick neck unrolled from where it had been tucked under the other. A feathered crest extended its height to nearly Arianell's bust and large, friendly green eyes looked at her from atop a rounded muzzle seemingly split with a permanent smile. The head tilted to one side, a snake-like tongue flickered at one nostril, and it spoke, "Erro, erro, erro? Erro! Erro... Erro!"

----
To-Do:

Genomita
Macisikan
Sterkistan

[Sunset]

Genomita...

Dhunja should have been paying more attention to what was happening under her than in front of her; All it took was a little touch, a hand - even yes, a chin. Where one or the other had remained for an instant a dark shadow remained after, the glowing light of something that resembled a hand tracing through the interior space, the shell between the shell, and filled in with brilliant orange energy. Strange purple fluid flowed away into unknown spaces and for a moment one side of the capsule perfectly reflected the mummified visage of the elder shaman. Orange lines raced through, spreading from hand to edge and around at sharp angles and then retreating to draw away the shell.

Under her body only a crisp, dark shadow remained to fill the void and then it too was gone, a figure remaining in it's place. Tall and lanky, with odd knees that bent the wrong way and a crest of thick, sharp hair tied into a bunch at the nape of his neck. Something about the bones said that this was a 'he', though the bulk of an armored uniform hid the rest of his features. His eyes were closed but they opened just as he tumbled forward, falling out of the pod to sprawl at the foot of the mummy.

He looked up in shock, pushed himself up on his long arms, and completely ignored the shadow forming in the capsule behind him. At first it was a simple pillar of darkness, a thumb set in a pool of inky darkness that sat in the bottom of the pod, but then it expanded and turned into what resembled a familiar hand. Then, in only the blink of an eye, it darted from the pod trailing itself behind to gather around Djunja in a tenuous grasp as hard as stone. Then she was gone, pulled into the pod with a 'squak!'

Rolling onto his back, golden eyes as wide as saucers, the newcomer watched as the process rapidly retreated. The dark shadow already surrounded her, the shell became solid, the lines faded, and the purple gel rushed into the space. Under the glass the contents began to swirl, to spin, but it was the shell itself that was spinning, slowly lifting into the air...

----
To-Do:

Macisikan
Sterkistan

[Caer Lleon]

The young Queen-And-Empress sank to her knees, putting her arms around the big parrot in gratitude. It didn't try to attack her. It wasn't badly injured. It was just a big parrot. And it was clean. And it seemed to like her. Or, at least, with her hugging it, it began nuzzling at her, much like a parrot she remembered her cousin having when they were young... what had been its name? Petey? No... Pidgey! "I'm going to call you Pidgey. Okay?" This seemed to meet Pidgey's approval, at least for now, as it clucked at her and shook its wings. "Can you fly? Maybe we'll go flying together!" That was something to get excited about.

"Your Majesty, we need to take the alien into custody and quarantine..." Her current detail captain said, approaching with his hands held out. "And work out what it eats, where its needs to live, if it's dangerous to the environment... will you please stop hugging the alien? Your Majesty. Please."

Arianell's mood, which had been improving, immediately nose-dived. "What? No, he's coming back to Camelot with me."

"Are we even sure it's a he, Your Majesty?"

"Ummm..." Arianell looked at the alien, frowned, and then looked back up at her knight. "He's coming back to Camelot with me." She repeated, standing up and putting herself between the knight and the big parrot.

"Your Majesty, please be reasonable. You need to set an example for your subjects..."

[Kash Island]

Conglomerate world: KAL
2100 hrs local time
Conglomerate Intelligence Hub

The world of Kal was one of misery and loneliness. If it wasn't the toxic atmosphere it was the endless piles of trash that had polluted the streets of the recycling and manufacturing world. Long since having lost it's beuty it was now a haven for criminals and other undesireables that the Conglomerate had to constantly deal with. The wail of Conglomerate Civil Safety sirens were a constant in the background of the begs of the poor and decrepit. Within the intelligence hub the employees of the Kash Conglomerate were hard at working tracking down cyber-threats and whatever else could come their way. Usually the typical chatter that was decrypted were drug or gun smugglers and the obvious gang warefare chat. The planet was not a good place to raise a family, but if you had nothing left and wanted to simply survive...it was a path.

Kacey stood behind the cyber intelligence operative as he poked into the Conglomerate's Dark Web, it was constantly patrolled by agents but it was huge and as such things needed to be found. Numerous crime could be detected on the Kal planetary stream. Every world had it's own "net" that was monitored but Kal's was by the far the most interesting...in terms of human indignity. Kacey knew all about it, his hair greying as he had been on this job for over twenty years and it showed. Behind the purplish gaze of his augmented goggles were eyes that had seen great suffering...and great heroism. He turned and faced one of the directors in the hallway outside his view.

" Nothing of interest on the datastream yet, other than the usual scum...he's in pretty deep though..." Kacey said as he looked back at the cybernetic hacker who's mind was inside the stream, searching for anything of use. The director nodded his head and walked down the hallway to another pair of men. Kacey wasn't an agent though, he was a soldier, specifically a contractor and he didn't know all that much about surfing the stream, while cybernetics and net inclusion was a part of most people's daily lives, the dark web wasn't and he wasn't a fan of "plugging in".

The operative, eyes glazed over, began to shake slightly before slowly gasping. " There is..something...here...breaking firewall now" Immediately the holographic panels in front of him began to light up with messages. Kacey leaned over and analyzed what he was seeing. Ever since he took this position with his new "partner in cyber space" he had gotten a new upgrade to his goggles, it allowed him to process text in front of him faster. What he was reading was interesting, something about a large purple item found on Rustork. He had never been to that hot and rocky colony, but it looked like he didn't need to. He pointed at the text in front of his eyes, dancing with orange.

" Hey sir!" he yelled " Come take a look at this, we got something here." The director mumbled something that couldn't be heard before coming back to the room and standing with his arms crossed.

Kacey turned once again " Looks like something was found on Rustork, some kind of capsule, I can't make much more out of it but it's...ah shit..." He said with a sigh.

The director's eyebrow raised " ah...shit...what?" He asked watching Kacey's glowing violet eyes go over the text.

" It looks like The Abandoned have it..." Kacey said, they both knew what that meant. The Abandoned were a a terrorist organization, they hated the Conglomerate but were inside it's worlds. There ranks were usually Conglomerate employees that broke contracts or simply couldn't meld with society. They were anarchists to an extent and they employed every method in the book. From kidnappings to gravcar bombs. From what he was reading though they had no idea what the capsule was but he knew where it was headed.

" It looks like the capsule, or whatever it is, has found it's way to Shiryu, that's all I can gather from this, we should have a hit on it's location pretty sure, I'm going to prep a seizure team, whatever this thing is we don't want it to fall into their hands." Kacey stated, grabbing some of this thing's off the ground near the desk before patting the glazed eyed operative " You let me know of anything new buddy, you already have my channel, don't be afraid to holler at me before I leave here..."

The director straightened his suit " Good, I will get your transport, the Founder is going to want to know about this, keep me posted."

"got it sir" Kacey responded as they both walked out and to their separate ways. The Contractor soon had himself a gravbus to the star port where he would be deployed, a team of contractors and no doubt other forces would rendezvous with him in Shiryu.

Two Terran Days Later

Conglomerate world: Shiryu
2300 Hrs local time
Shiryu Security Station 5-243

The ride was easy enough, the dust drive still made Kacey suspect though. Any mistake and you would be turned into radioactive pocket lit should there be a spacial breach. Regardless he was here now, in the exotic world of Shiryu. The place was a maze of cities that nestled inside massive crevices, avoiding the dangerous storms of the surface and it's nightmarish wildlife that stalked it. It's asian architecture had always been one of his favorites, and it's gambling areas were even better. Not that Kacey gambled, he didn't believe in luck or chance, only what his eyes could see. Inside the station he was greet by two other contractors and five Combat Duplicants. No doubt this was going to get violent, The Abandoned were radicals and they wouldn't hesitate to try something stupid or dangerous...or both.

After deliberation between the two parties it was decided they would hit the target location in three hours. Simple enough, the breaching team knew they were going and even uploaded the location to Kacey's HUD for better tactical know-how. It appeared that one of the skycrapers(ironically, as it still stayed below the surface of the planet with only the bare tip penetrating the surface of the crevice) that was under construction was being used as a holdout area for The Abandoned. They must have used the construction as a way to sneak in and set up shop on one of the floors. Ballsy with so much traffic in the area to see them. Kacey soon found himself gearing up for the raid to come. He had fought these psychos once before and it wasn't pretty.

He washed his face, the cold water dripping down his aged face and thought to himself...Here goes nothing...

Shiryu
Sector 6
Construction and Remodeling site

It was time....the Bandit stealth dropship purred it's way over to the roof top of the building, it's cloak masking it's signature. Below, at the bottome of the building were Civil Saftey offiers ready to surround the building as soon as the operation became hot. Kacey looked at the men in the back, a strange glow of light from the interior playing off their covered faces. The Combat Duplicants, simple brawn and firepower, sat quietly with their goggles glowing neon, muscles almost bursting out of their armored uniforms.

The light turned green in the drop ship and they descended onto the roof by nano-rope. They all carried suppressed Type 23 KC-Caseless Machine Pistol's, lethal CQB weapons that were known to be bullet hoses. They hit the roof, rain smacking on their bodies as the dropship took off into the distance, quietly...as if it was never there. The team then made their way into the building from the rooftop entrance. The inside of the building was dim as could be with only the occasional construction light offering ambient photons. As they descended they saw a child...and he was armed. It wasn't much effort for Kacey to ambush the young one, taking the weapon from him before he could let a round off and rendering him unconscious on the steps. He was happy he didn't have to kill the child soldier, but that wasn't always the case. Things were getting more tense as they penetrated further down until they looked through the window into one of the offices, it was large..and full of supplies.

Kacey gave the signal, pulling a KC-IDS( a grenade with flashbang qualities) from his chest and tossing it into the room. They could heard panicked mumbling as whoever was inside noticed the clang. Two bursts of noise came as the grenade sent out fragments of smaller devices that detonated with deafening light and noise. The team pushed into the room and death was soon their dancing partner as weapons fire was exchanged. The suppressed weapons sonic devices made them nearly silent but the sound of the enemy's weapons was as loud as could be as muzzle flashes turned the place into a nightclub. Kacey looked for targets, not even raising his weapon to his eyes as such close ranges. He knew people were dieing around him, he didn't need to look to see. He raised his weapon at one of his enemies and squeezed the trigger, a burst of fire stitched up the chest of his fore and into the forehead, turning the man into a human sprinkler, showing his body with warm goo and bone fragments.

When the smoke settled and the scream stopped Kacey looked back, his team right behind him, some breathing heavy from the hellish seconds of battle they had just rushed into. Two were dead, one was a Duplicant who's head had been splattered by a Thermopulse pistol, a smoking crater was between his eyes. The other, a Contractor, heeled over in a puddle of his own blood. Kacey could see the exit wounds peppering his body from the back of the dead man. For a second he saw movement, what looked like a girl. The chase was on as they went after the unknown woman as she darted through two other rooms.

They followed her before quickly halting at what they had come to see. The woman had strapped herself to a chair and was rigged to some kind of device. No doubt, from what he was looking at, it was a low grade nuclear device, or a dirty bomb, regardless it was bad. The woman giggled at them as her eyes and theres could see the purple capsule attached to the device......

" What?! Surprised?...you thugs always think you can get what you want...not this time...not here..." She said, her breathing was intense now and Kacey could see the sweat on her brow. She was gathering the strength to push whatever trigger was in her hand. His mind raced for a solution and he only had one. He leaned over and grabbed a taze gun from his comrade and replaced his own weapon with it. His eyes focused on his target and he spoke softly.

" any last words bitch" He said, baiting the young women.

" Yeah, fuck you and your..agh!" She creamed as he fired the scattering prongs into her arm, she convulsed as the electricity puppeted her body. Kacey needed to move quickly, he left the weapon on stun but the battery wouldn't last forever. He drew his molecular blade from his thigh, charged and swiped downwards severing her arm from her body. The hand still clutching the trigger as the electricity kept it stiff. The women began to cry as she fell out of the chair, one of the Duplicant's walked up calmy and fired one round into her face, the projectile entering her nose and exiting her left ear in an explosion of iron smelling liquid. Kacey cut the straps to the capsule and two Duplicants stepped forward to carry the device as they left the room in a hurry.

" Bluejay were en route to the roof, need extraction, it's going to be hot." They panted as they moved up to the roof before they stepped back out into the downpour. The drop ship had beat them to the punch and the ropes fell down. The team quickly latched on, securing the capsule as if it was their very souls. As they flew away Kacey yelled over the coms.

" Evacuate the area, there's a bomb in the..." Kacey covered his eyes as in the distance a flash of light appeared as what appeared to be a small nuclear device had went off, vaporizing the building and the surrounding infrastructure. He stared out at the loss of life and knew that whatever was in that capsule was important.

" Holy fuck..." The pilot said over the comms as they flew off into the rain and neon....

Three Terran Days Later

Krux, Conglomerate Capital World

The Founder stared out into the dusty, cramped cityscape of the Conglomerate capital. It must have been almost 90 degrees out there, even in the darkness and pumpkin glow of the lights, the planets thermal vents were to thank for that. He listened to a group of corporate scientists as they contemplated with the next move they should take. The device had been stored in a blacksite on Krux, sealed underground in a bunker complex where they could possibly tamper with the strange pill-like capsule.

" Founder, we are ready to proceed if you just give us the go" came a voice in his head, his enhanced eyes showed a real time image of the event before him.

The Founder kept staring into the cityscape, pondering what he had just discovered.

" People have died to find this device, good people of the company, it would be a crime to not know why they lost their lives...you have my permission."

" Thank you sir, it's a privileged." and with that he watched as the scientists, most augmented with strange cybernetics began their mission to open the device. The Founder's mind wondered as he stood calmly and he mind uttered a final thought.

Did Saint Nick lose a present from his slay?...or are we like fools opening Pandora's box....

[Sunset]

Macisikan...

Trinya looked at Tom and cocked her head to one side, her mouth slowly repeating his words, "Taxman only takes money when he's... Oh. You mean he doesn't show up and take your kidneys and leave you in a bathtub full of ice. Gotcha. Well, maybe I did, or maybe I'm just naturally charming," she answered, tipping her head to the other side and sticking out her tongue.

This was enough for her beret to slide off and flop to the deck, which was neither graceful nor charming, and she bent to scoop it up and incidentally uncurl her hair to whaap him in the face with the long chestnut curl and cost him his own hat, "Oops. Maybe I did. So - how long til we get to wherever we're going? And what is Dornalia? Or where is Dornalia? Great big galaxy," she shrugged, "Right?"

====

As is often the case, some of the most dramatic discoveries are accidental. Such was the case with the Voc assigned to sweep the pod for skin cells or similar. The simplest method was through the time-established tradition of bio-luminescence and with the lights already dim it was simple to equip the construct with a variable-wavelength light and send it in to sweep the capsule.

Which promptly lit up like the mattress at a cheap motel.

There were also traces of the orb though like the heliumphant they were floating here and there and required the skills and reflexes of a ninja to catch. At least until someone pulled a spare air filter from stores.

But the first led to a rapid cascade of discoveries, though the details would take further time to pick apart. It was clear that the pod was in some nature biological, though the presence of nano-machines in the aero-gel suggested a synthesis of some type. That led to the immediate suggestion that the movement of the gel from interior and into the outer shell was accomplished by some form of rapid osmosis. Taking a cue from the previous discovery, the shell was fluoresced and examined under a powerful microscope, revealing what could only be cell structures!

This corresponded well with the details being picked out of the wreckage by other teams; The outer skin of each section was composed of a similar cell-like material while the interior granules were complex cellular macro-machines that seemed to be specialized by type. Through these ran secondary tube-like structures; Arteries and veins, though it was a simplification. Substantial amounts of the aerogel was found in these with the orange structures carrying 'loaded' gel - that is, their micro-machines seemed to carry biological detritus of all kinds - while the brown structures carried 'clean' gel.

The implications were staggering.

----
To-Do:

Sterkistan
Caer Lleon
Kash Island

[Sunset]

Sterkistan...

With three pods and no immediate answers as to 'how' or 'what', Head Engineer Koya went with the simple stand-by; Divide and Conquer. The three objects were moved to different segments of the Ra Cailum's cavernous maintenance bay. Make-shift partitions were erected around each one - empty containers, crates, empty ammunition drums, and the like - with a ReZEL positioned as the 'door' to each. This would provide some security as well as keep the curious back at least a little.

"Alright - we've got no idea what these things are, or how to get them open," he explained, briefing his three hand-picked teams, well, briefly. "So I'm putting you up to the challenge - figure out how to get in and not get yourself or anyone else killed and you'll get an extended pass at our next docking. That's it," he nodded, "Good luck."

Soon enough the three separate segments glowed with the spark of cutting torches, whined with the rip of saws, and echoed with the chants of spells in some dark tongue long forgotten and best left so. Word of the challenge had spread among the deck crews and the general roster and a small crowd had gathered in the center. Money changed hands as bets were laid on favorites and a trio of comely ensigns formed a cheer-leading squad for Engineer Young, whose face fortunately remained hidden behind his welding mask so they couldn't see him blush.

Whatever their methods, the capsules proved tougher than blade, flame, and ritual and it fell to Young to make the fateful discovery. Pushing himself to his feet, he doused his torch and pulled his mask off before pulling off a thick gauntlet to wipe the sweat from his admittedly handsome brow and run his hand through his wavy blonde locks. A long exhaled breath and he looked up to the ceiling before unbuttoning the top of his uniform - to the immediate verbal adoration of his cheering section - and leaning bare-handed against the pod to consider his work.

The torch hadn't left as much as a dimple, at least not yet. With a sigh he knocked down the mask and knelt to his work, adjusting the mix from the tanks and utterly missing the shadow that remained from where he left his hand. Obscured by the black glass, he couldn't see the outline of a hand form under it, the orange light fill it, or even the rapid disappearance of the swirling purple fluid as an orange outline formed just above his head. The hatch bled away to leave behind darkness, but his eyes were focused on the small bright spark of blazing acetylene and it was only the ReZEL pilot that saw the squat black shape sitting on the concave floor of the pod seemingly flow up the walls to hide itself in the shadow cast by the hatch.

A hand touched Young's shoulder and he turned from the open light of the refrigerator, "Daddy, can I have some juice?"

"Sure, kiddo," he smiled, reaching up to tousle his daughter's hair before reaching in and pulling out a paper cartoon. He didn't recognize the brand; Something new her mother had bought, "Let me get you a glass."

A finger around the bottle he'd sought out first and he swung the door closed, stepping sideways to the cabinets and the shelf full of glasses and dishes piled up neat and tidy, "That's your mom - best woman I ever met. Here," he took a low tumbler in a third finger and carefully arranged all three on the counter before cracking the seal and pouring out an empty void for his daughter and handing it to her. Twisting the cap off his own bottle, he tipped it to her, "Cheers..."

----
To-Do:

Caer Lleon
Kash Island

[Macisikan]

Station 5, Vi Hipi, RFSEM

Of course all the rogue biomatter was scooped up – the orb’s discarded cells were taken away to be examined further, with an eye to synthesising organic compounds, the orb’s equivalent of a protein shake. DNA sequencing was also initiated; soon they would know exactly what could and couldn’t be fed to the thing.

Ychan, of course, put an immediate stop on the job to disassemble Falk’s pod – fortunately they hadn’t started yet. If these things were “alive”, further study would be needed before they were torn apart.

The debris, on the other hand; the orange structures were drained dry, the aerogel broken down and studied with an eye to replication (the numbing properties were declared to be quite interesting), while the various biological detritus was itself examined. People may laugh, but a hunter can tell you that you can learn a lot about an animal by examining its excrement. How much better to examine all the metabolic products, cell fragments, and DNA.

Declaration that the pods were themselves at least semi-organic, coupled with their reactions to the organic touch, resulted in them both being relocated to separate quarantined labs. These were the sort of labs normally used to study extremely contagious and deadly diseases; under no circumstances were organics allowed to even be in the same room without being fully suited. Ychan also informed all personnel that any organic who did make contact with the pods would enjoy a free trip down into the gas ball below – with a space suit so that it would be the pressure that killed them, not the vacuum.

The two vatgrown found themselves being subjected to a cellular analysis to see if they had picked up anything from the pods.

Meanwhile the station’s other projects were carefully taken off of it and transferred to others, to ensure that nothing would endanger them.