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”Rin, please run by the engine room and bring us the busted screw?”

Rin got up from his chair, still watching what was going on alongside Dal. He tilted his head at her as she told him to come back afterwards, giving an agreeing nod at her understandable wariness toward the strangers. "Affirmative," he said, quietly. Giving one last searching look at the moniters, he left the cabin.

He was thankful that he'd taken the time to familiarize himself with the ship, even though it was through the influence of curiosity and boredom. Going back to the engine room was still going to be a mental challenge, though-

BAM BUM BA, BA BUM BA, BARA-

Rin reeled, a startled noise escaping him as he pressed himself against a wall, fingers clawed and digging to the metal. A frantic symphony of the... song?... turning on and off suggested that this was entirely unplanned.

... And. There was noise coming from the engine room.

With a foreboding feeling of dread, Rin shakily peeled himself away from the wall. He gulped. Why was he feeling so nervous?

He went inside-

"HOLY MOTHER-!"

He slapped his palm over his eyes, stumbling out of the room, slamming the button that controlled the door as it shut with a resounding clang. Making his way to- to- anywhere but there, he impulsively shouted to the top of his lungs, possibly heard by either Dal or... the rest.

"TY, I LOVE YOU BUT I AM NOT GOING BACK TO LOOK AT LAURENT '£&€¥%#& NAKED' MONTAGNE!!! AND... BASTARD'S INSTALLING SOMETHING, I DON'T KNOW, I NEED BRAIN BLEACH-"

"Whatever works, Mr. T'yzfir," Kovacs pronounced the name exactly as the man gave it. "I am Commander Kovacs, captain of the White Death. Once the spares are delivered, I will be leaving Mr. Jackson in your care, should you accept him onboard." That left them in relative silence while they waited for the courier to arrive, until an ungodly music sounded over the intercom.

Well, for them, at least. Kovacs instantly recognized it as JPop, from back on Earth. The genre was a popular one in the outer colonies of the Achenar Empire, and it was something that Kovacs didn't really listen to. But Kate loved it, and for some reason... he found himself nodding along. Lieutenant Catherine Shepard was another member of APEX-7 before she went MIA nine years ago. The music brought back some fond memories of days spent relaxing.

"So, Danny. How many days do we have left before recall?" Fingers drew patterns on skin.

A grunt of disappointment. "Two. Not long enough."

Hot breath against his ear, crimson hair cascading like the weeping willow. "Maybe we could make the most of it?" The sound of rustling fabric.

"What did you have in mind?" Rasping clack of wood, clinking against frozen glass.

Her hand firmly grasping the rod, paying special attention to the tip. "Something with balls, and sticks."

"Like you could ever hope to get more than me?" Hand in pockets, spheres withdrawn.

A cheer in the background, victory. "Snooker, then. You always win at eight-ball."

"Your on..." Japanese music plays over the speakers.

It didn't last long, before the sound cut out entirely. His world had turned blurry until he blinked it away, cheeks grown damp for an unknown reason. Kovacs raised his hand in the middle of their apology, "Don't. I want to meet this 'cat' of yours, if we have time."

It was Dallen who presently served as the eyes and ears of the Koolest Boat U Know – and in her distrust of the newcomers, she had been paying close attention to where Rin was – having set one of the auxiliary monitors to show multiple screens – fortunately for her, the engine room camera hadn’t quite booted up for no particular reason. She was, however, watching as Rin went stumbling back out of the engine room, and hearing him very clearly. ”He what!” she yelped, to nobody. There was no need to alert the others though, since glancing back to that particular screen to do so only showed an empty entry port.

T’yzfir, meanwhile, was just about to say something along the lines of ’No, you definitely do not want to meet the cat’ – but he had barely opened his mouth before the muffled shrieking shocked all three into scramble-mode. Ty in particular looked briefly as though someone had prodded him in the back of the neck with hedge trimmers- then a cold fury fell over him as he fully registered what the muffled words had actually been. ”Son of a- On me. I don’t know what that piece of @#$% is doing and I don’t like it.“ He barked, spinning on a heel and power-walking back into the bulk of the ship. Sands had a similar expression of furious disdain on his face, and followed along immediately, hefting the rifle in his arms as he went. The click of the safety being turned off could be heard.

Tsuan was slower to react, though out of a nonchalance rather than sloth. He too looked concerned about the situation, but managed to grin wryly to Jet and Kovacs. ”Cat’s out of the bag, I guess.” He said, turning toward the door, putting a hand to the pistol at his side and unlatching the holster in preparation for the worst. ”Might need your help. I’ll explain on the way.” Nodding directionally toward the inner port door, he silently urged the guests to follow. It wouldn’t be very long of a walk, but long enough for him to elaborate just a little, speech hasty. ”The bastard’s probably up to no good. We’ve been waiting for him to pull a stunt and try to @#$% with the ship or something. Don’t trust him.”

Though it was generally an unwise tactical decision to invite an unknown party aboard a ship during times of potential crisis, it was a sharp show of just how much they distrusted the man in the engine room. That, plus the fact that it was very unlikely that these new guys were enemies, was enough.

For all T’yzfir knew, Montagne was installing some kind of beacon to phase in a squad of Ova’s troops – or some kind of teleporter that would send the ship to Ova’s planet before they had a chance to get help from their mysterious friend. It was worth taking the chance of two random guys being hostile to have them along in case extra manpower was needed.

”In fact, feel free to shoot the @#$% out of him if he tries anything.”

Doubtless this all would be explained in greater detail later – when the possibility of sabotage wasn’t so imminent.

Seconds earlier, very distraught Sands and Ty had come storming around the corner, brushing past Rin as they went. Lagging behind, Tsuan and the newcomers followed shortly thereafter – Tsuan stopping briefly to glance to Rin and say ”Y’okay kid?” Because, as it happened, the kid’s screeching hadn’t been quite perfectly understood, and the possibility of Laurent having done something to hurt the Nyran seemed very real. He waited only a second for an affirmative reply, then continued on.

By the time they arrived in the engine room, Ty and Sands were standing in combat-ready stance, both aiming their weapons at the naked, onion-headed Montagne without the slightest sense of humor or bashfulness about the awkwardness of it. (Apparently, T’yzfir had pulled a small handgun out of his boot or something.) In the engine room, the music still blared – and T’yzfir’s words were going entirely unheard. Tsuan remedied this by hastily locating the emergency auxiliary shutdown button and smacking it with a balled fist. Immediately the speakers powered down, music going silent. Most of the other minor systems had shut down as well – not that any of that mattered presently.

”What the @#$% do you think you’re doing, Montagne!” T’yzfir barked. ”I don’t remember anyone giving you permission to install anything on this boat so you’d best explain yourself right now!"

He sounded surprisingly fierce when he shouted like that.

Christofer, without a lot more debating over the strange object, got back into the shower, standing this time, feeling a little better and at least a bit lighter after the most had been washed away. He'd react with a startled flinch at the sound that... Came from the door? Looking towards he door that stood between the bathroom and what Toffi had only assumed to be a fancy bedroom of sorts, the door sure was still just as shut and closed as it had been a moment ago when he had brought the object over to it. Ears perked for the moment he thought he heard Royanna's voice, head still turned to face the door but nothing seemed to happen.
"What?" He shouted back, though weakly, not properly being able to make such loud sounds. It ended up being higher in pitch rather than volume. The boy had stopped everything, shut the shower and all but nothing was still heard as a reply. Strange.
Making his way over to the door, he'd be ever so slightly hunched over again, careful, ears pointed and facing forward, left hand bent near his chest and the right, at least somewhat, trying to take support from the wall, even if there was some mild pain there and had he slipped it really wouldn't have helped him at all.
Creaking the door open slightly, he'd wait for a bit, listen, before sticking his head out and looking around the room. No-one was there. Well... Supposedly that's better than an assault... But he was still confused. He had missed the door closing, had to just assume that that was what the sound had been that followed the faint shouting. Suddenly he just felt very lonely, and he could definitely make himself feel even lonelier if he started reminding himself of the times from before, or just the fact that he was now, somehow, in space, and whatever lay beyond these walls could kill him instantly. Needless to say, he stopped himself as soon as his mind was starting to slip. Rather leave himself uncovered and hold both of his palms against his temples rather than start hyperventilating. He didn't want to think about it... All those thoughts crushed him, head dipped itself and whenever he'd open his eyes and declare himself ready to continue he'd be able to see the floor.

And the scissors.

He could suspect that Royanna was indeed the one that had been stopping by the door, just that she respected his privacy and didn't want to stick around for too long. He'd probably have to thank her later. Unless...
"Thanks..!" ... Yeah, he was going to have to thank her later, no way that was going to reach her now.
Regardless, he'd pick up the scissors and get back to the bathroom side of the room. Now was a good time to put the tiny twin blades to use. For sure. If they... Uhh... Even worked on fur. He'd sit down, preferring this over hanging his head and the likes for a long time. It was easier this way. Cutting tiny bits at first, he'd have to cut some slightly longer tufts whenever he came across a matted part that he hadn't managed to solve in the shower, and then he'd have to even things out. Might Royanna have predicted that the canid was going to go and clip his fur and not just his hair? That would be left to see for later. He'd obviously not cut off everything , but it'd be clear that from the more smooth and even look, he had done something to not look as ragged and beaten. If she'd not find out just by looking because of the clothes that hopefully fit him... .... Well... .... Uhhh... .... ...... ...........

It took him a while, but after a while it was all nice and good again. He sat beside a notable pile of dismembered fur particles. Brushing along his side and arms, yup, much nicer and smoother now. It might be that he'd feel a little cold for a while, but while he was still showering, something which he'd continue right away as he got up, washed and dried the scissors and pushed the pile of fur to the side, taking it to the trash later after having finished. Really, people usually felt cold after leaving behind the warm shower water, so why should he be any different? He still looked the same, well, mostly, just that he was clean now. Extra clean and neat. Trimmed. Was that the word?

Cleaning up the shower room, pushing the water to the drain and picking up the strange object, he'd finally be ready to leave and set foot into the assumed bedroom again. No canid instincts on shaking himself dry, he'd still go for the human way of towels and be fine with that. Keeping an eye on the object, he'd place it on one of the small tables while he dried himself. And looked on the bed too, where Royanna claimed she had left some clothes. Ok then... Time to see if they'd be any good...
And by that he meant if they'd fit. Because the pants sure did not fit. They got stuck half way, and in fear of ripping them, Christofer would just... gently take them back off again, fold them neatly and slooowly place them to the corner of the bed. He couldn't wear those... If he was able to get them on, somehow, how would he move? Yeah... No...

Eyeing his way through the closet he located, the tail was going to give him trouble. How was he going to fit any of these? Unless... Unless they had some sewing tools, somewhere. Probably at the med bay? But he couldn't go there like this... ... He'd just have to deal with wearing things uncomfortably for now, keep his hands tightly gripping at the front part of the pants as he made any steps. It was extremely awkward, but it was the only way he could get around without fearing that the pants that he had barely managed to get just above his hips would fall. The sounds he made were not manly, at all. And he could be happy that the rest of the clothes fit on him ok enough. Perhaps because of the fur he trimmed off himself or some other reason? They were going to feel a little stiff, having not been used for a while, but body heat was going to smoothen them up sooner or later, hopefully. He missed wearing normal clothes already. Or again, just... His own clothes weren't all that fit to be classified as 'normal everyday clothes' but what he had gotten to wear earlier? Those were kinda nice... But they were all bloody and ripped now, so the canid had no luck and would have to go forth the day with his ears and head held low, hands gripping at both the pants and the strange object.

Making some progress, the canid took the steps to leave the room and return to the medical room - only to find out that Kallenger was no longer there, stopped him half way from opening his mouth and thanking her from the earlier. No woman here, no wasting the air on speaking. But then, where was she then? If not here, where? It made him a little nervous. But... But first, he could try and be a little productive on his own, locate some needles and thread... Something that counted for those two items at least, and he'd use them, and the scissors, to 'patch up' the pants to fit him and his tail more comfortably. It was a strange process to go through, but he'd tailor himself something to wear. Something that seemed more natural and allowed for his hands to be free. Maybe he'd look for that belt too though, just in case. But the point for now is that after this stitching work, the pants fit on him better and all was as good as it could be at the moment.
He could also dispatch of the bucket while he was here and Royanna was not around. But where should he put the substances that were in the bucket? Down the drain, since most of it was just liquid and nothing else? ..... He should ask of it from Kallenger, since he had no knowledge on how spaceships and whatever water recycling goodness that they might have had going for them or... Anything. He was going to hurt his head thinking over it, so the bucket was left behind along with the room as he set off, sniffing after Roy, like a proper dog.

On his way to the control room, or pilot's cabin, somewhere, not knowing what such place was but that'd be where the scent lead him in the end, Christofer would pass the ballroom. The bloody remains were noted, but so was the absence of Iril. Where might she have gone? Was there some room that fit a big blocky robot? Well, maybe, perhaps, since she wasn't anywhere to be found in the main big room now, so there had to be something. He was not aware of the message and the fact she was not even on board anymore, so he just assumed things as he went on his way, strange object still at hand while he walked.

Finally reaching the pilot's cabin, he'd be silent as can be, entering with his head low into a room that he had not yet seen. Expectations were that it was rather dark or at least dimly lit, considering that one was able to see outside and all that. And that fact in itself was enough to have him halt at the door. Outside. Space. He was not used to the sight, it seemed so bizarre and new to him. Made him nervous, hands easily moved up to chest level, clutching each other and the strange object.
He stood at the door for a while, not knowing what to do other than look forward and towards both the window and the seat submissively and with some hair spiking and sticking out slightly messy and nervous despite his attempts of combing it earlier. What should he do? The scent and the dark hair he could recognize even when standing on the back told him that Royanna was right there. Should he ask where the others were, should he move closer? Stay silent? He just didn't know, standing on his tip toes and scanning through the floor until the faint scent of blood caught his attention.

"... Roy..?" Softly spoken voice, as usual, but healthy and with worry behind itself, emotions clearly present instead of the tiredness and dryness from before.
He couldn't do much else than to question, but he sure hoped everything was alright.

The Neko worked fast within the engine room, not only fixing the heating problem by installing the icy core infusing bits of the screw with it, but that left a lot more energy that can be transferred into the engines even more without a hitch. Little did the others know that, Laurent was somewhat a veteran engineer and was given the nickname "Junkion" since he could take any piece of scrap and fix anything on a ship even during combat, and fixing things during space battles makes one ability to fix things to be really quickly since if for example. So as the group came in, guns pointing at him, not only did Laurent fix there heating problem, he just finished overclocking the engines so whoever is flying the Coolest Boat, then they would see that the ship can go much faster without having to worry about heating.

However, just as he takes off his helmet and break the news to the crew, he turns around and looks at stouges pointing guns at him, guessing him to raise his hand, dropping the blowtorch as his ears went down. "I was just about to call you idiots" he states as he gives out a uneasy smile. "The last time I recall, you don't own this ship, no of us do, it belongs to the sovereign Ice Queen Cathorine" as his nervous grin turned into a confident one. His eyes went into squint as he looks at one of the camera's seeing it wasn't functioning and he simply bashed the wall and soon the camera would turn on, that little display would only prove how well he understood these kind of ships to the crew and as he says "Hey, Blackie, you are supposed to be at the helm not here, go back and check the engines I just overclock the engines as well as fix our heating problem" giving Dallen a command assuming it was her since she wasn't with the group as he steps to the side and show the rest of the icy core that was nicely snugged into where the screw would be. "I was planning to use that core to create a slushy machine, but nooooo, someone instead had to bust the heating inhibitor, causing a massive failure on the screw that was here...I'm gonna assume one of you disconnected a simple AI system that could have prevented this? How do I know? Because I used to work on these ships a long long time ago" he explains as he looks at them still with his stupid grin on his face. His eye's met with Kovacs and Jet if they followed the group and gave them a bow and says "Hello, my name is Laurent Montagne, I'm sorry for the lack of clothes, but I was just a cat a few moments ago and these heavily armed guys are stupid...except for the one with the purple tips, he's just naive...in which he stabbed me, but well here we are" as he then looks back at the rest of the group.

"So here we are, if you gonna shot, don't miss or the engines will go into a complete shut down and be dead in the space water" he says as he crosses his arm across his chest. "Plus killing me, you'll never be able to get to Lord Ova in one piece and Rin's guardian will most likely met her grizzly end, most likely being strangled by Lord Ova's lap dog knight Nocturnus who is...slightly bigger than you if I last recall" he says and at the end points at Jet. "So you gonna be trigger happy and kill not only your only repair man, but also your ticket towards Lord Ova? Or are gonna put those away so I can continue to do the fish stick? Its a very delicate state of mind" he asks them as he leans up against the wall with his hands across his chest, waiting on there action in what to do.

"I take a boy under my wing, he makes a lot of money, I get stabbed, I turn into a cat, I turn back into my normal self, and now I met my possible end at firing squad" he mutters as he looks at them, still smiling.

Kovacs drew his sidearm when the others sprung into action. If there was a mutiny on board, he wanted to be front and centre for it so that he could pick a side to support. The group found themselves in the engine room as an odd, mostly naked man wearing an onion shaped helmet with a hard hat covering his unmentionables. All comments regarding the oddity of the being before him evaporated when the three soldiers all aimed their weapons at him.

The quality and attitude of the crew thus far was lackluster, even poor. Despite or not being his ship, he felt the need to correct the situation immediately. Especially if he was going to allow Jet to stay with these... hooligans...

Once Montagne introduced himself, Kovacs holstered his sidearm and stepped forward, his fist flying into the Neko's face. His knuckle smashed inti Laurent's jaw hard enough to knock him down, but not out. Granted, Montagne had no idea of their arrangement, but it did not excuse him entirely. Kovacs leaned down, picking Laurent up by the back of the neck.

"You mean to tell me that you attempted to modify the ship's systems without alerting the crew? While knowing that they didn't trust you at all?" The commander was fuming, but not quite enraged. He whirled on T'yzfir, slapping the micro pistol out of the man's hand after dropping Laurent. "And you blatantly despise the man that saved this vessel, and it doesn't even belong to you? You should be ashamed of yourself."

Kovacs moved to the little red wagon, an old running cadence going through his head as he scooped up the leftover pieces of the screw. He stared at the icy core for a moment, discretely scanning it into his database. "Where's the bridge? I still need the schematics for the screw, in case that thing blows, too."

What he didn't say was that he also wanted to smack the ship's captain upside the head for allowing the ship's AI to get deactivated. Shutting off his external speakers, he keyed the comms back to the White Death, "Ellen, Kovacs. Confirm receipt of visuals, over." Not wanting to leave the spider out of the loop, Kovacs had been streaming video straight to the bridge from his helmet.

Rin had stood quietly to the side, frozen and lost on how to react to what just happened. But a burning feeling made itself known, curling around his chest- and an icy sweep from the back of his neck, spreading like spiderwebbed cracks, prickled his nerves.

It was anger.

It was just anger, and he acted upon impulse- he stepped in front of the armored man, glaring up at him, no care on how easily he might be broken- especially now, without his armor, with only a knife for protection.

"You know not the arrangements made in this vessel," he said, low, but piercing. "You know nothing. Perhaps you should learn some tact, Commander, and watch and observe longer, before making any more judgments. After all, no respect given until earned, yeah?" He gave a tight smile.

... He then narrowed his eyes even further, tapping the back of his hand. "Also..."

"Who are you communicating with?"

Ellen

Did as Kovac's order as he went to assist the other ship. She knew how to fly a ship but a little practice never hurt, especially formal training since she learned on her own from her dark past. As he did the simulations on the White Death, she was also able to monitor what Kovac's was up to. However the glimpses of Rin was ringing bells in her mind and the more glimpses she got the more and more familiar he became.

Soon it became apparent in who Rin is and without a hesitate moment and nor replying to Kovacs, she immediately went to where they were currently. Having eight legs did have its benefit, since she was able to cover a lot of ground in a short amount of time. No doubt it would alarm Dallen though, but she didn't care nor was aware anyway.

It wouldn't be long till she made it, however from a possible notification as well as the loud clang of her legs, she would actually keep her distance not wanting to threaten them as her eyes were wide as she points to Rin and states "I-I know you, they are looking for you with Erica! You are the boy on the picture that the amphibian man had with his mantis friend yes! I know you!" As she gasps surprised in how she was able to piece things together, oblivious to the possible consequences of her unannounced presence and arrival the group.

Good grief. Jet was sick of it. Sick of the fact that Kovacs thought he could waltz around and enforce whatever he desired. A sigh ran across Jets face as he placed his palm on Kovacs's chest and shoved him back. "Kovacs, step back! You goddamned idiot! What are we doing here!? Huh!? Are we hitting people or helping people!? Show some damn respect, you vagrant!" Jet yelled in a stern tone, different to any time Jet had ever spoken. His sentence had a tinge of spitefullness and anger. The smile that once plagued Jets face had faded.

He approached the naked man, helping him up with one hand. "And for you, Mr. Entitled Hard Hat guy, why don't you show some respect too!? I don't give a damn what you do or who you know, you are apart of their crew! Show some iota of respect, you filthy mongrel. You made the crew draw their weapons, are you kidding me!? I've seen $&@# eating wompsliders with more respect than you!".

By the time Jet ended his charade, he had run out of juice and was running on fumes. He slowly drudged over to Rin. "Sorry for my sudden outburst and Kovacs. I never formally introduced myself, I'm Jet, but you probably knew that."
Jet said, with a tinge of pride in his voice, which was strangely lacking the serious tone he had moments before.

"I would also like to apologize to you Mr.Ty, Mr. Swan, and Mr. Sandy, for my companions boneheaded move, and the screaming I had just finished up. I hope this doesn't damage our relations.". Jet had switched through so many different tones and voices, that it was becoming hard to tell if he was serious or not. He had just switched from stern to prideful, to suddenly diplomatic and friendly.

Then he heard it, a pitter patter that was o' so distinct, the sound of spider legs. With his increased hearing, Jet could hear Ellen scuttling across the floor, in the White Death, and anticipated her arrival. In a dramatic and flashy movement, Jet swiveled on heal to face Ellen...a little too early. It was an awkward 3 seconds prior to her joining of the group. "Man, we've got a real party going on, now don't we" grumbled Jet, feeling overall exhausted and confused from the immediate situation.

Kovacs turned his head to look at the little purple guy. His blood burned with cold fury as an old anger rose in his chest. By the end of Rin's address, the commander had simmered down some, mulling over the shorter man's words. The point was further reinforced by Jet's scolding, and it was all Kovacs could do to stay calm as he stood there, ashamed of his actions.

This was precisely the reason he used limpets; to avoid interaction with other people. He wasn't used to playing nice or managing his emotions. Not anymore. Shaking his head, he sighed, turning to Jet. "Don't apologise for me, Mr. Jackson, though the motion is appreciated," he turned back to T'yzfir. "Like my comrade said, I apologise for my rashness, as it is not my place to discipline someone else's crew. I had forgotten that, and I will do better next time."

He turned to Laurent, "That does not detract any of my points, however. You need to behave as much as they need to be more tolerant of you. You're in this together, whether you like it or not; one team, one fight."

By the time Kovacs had gotten to Rin, he saw Ellen approaching through his aural implant, which emitted a passive quasiradar pulse every ten seconds, highlighting any living being within fifty metres of himself. The commander nodded in her direction right before she showed herself, not even caring to ask how he knew he was sending comms chatter, "I'm talking to her. Looks like she knows you, and it appears that she needs to learn how to keep me posted."

He made a mental note to have her advise him on all matters pertaining to "being nice."

He was partly expecting some kind of intense standoff. Admittedly, this was a stupid thing to expect, given who was at the end of their barrels. This was almost instantaneously redoubled when the fool spun around and began chattering off banter as though he truly thought he were clever. Ty just gritted his teeth, and bore down on the crony bastard with hard eyes. They grew harder every millisecond. He felt like his teeth might start cracking for how hard he was clenching his jaw. But outwardly, he appeared to be restraining his fury with the adeptness of a veteran. Though, anyone paying close enough attention would see the sudden, violent surge in his hatred when Montagne addressed Dallen through the camera. Even Sands and Tsuan glanced briefly to Ty, as though they expected him to abruptly lash out – but he didn’t. He just held the gun, held his breath, and waited for the idiot to finish his tirade.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, the armored Kovacs lunged forth and decked the creep right in the nose. It was a great effort to keep from smiling then – Tsuan failed miserably, the grin returning to his face along with that sickening crunch – and Sands suppressed a hoot of laughter to where it was only audible as a slight ”Pff-“ sound – but T’yzfir managed to stay stoic, with only the thinly veiled disdain lighting his eyes up like blue-green fire.

But the utterly last thing he had expected was what followed – when Kovacs whirled around and smacked the micro-pistol out of his hands. Nobody knew quite how to react. On some level, they were all quite aware of how dangerous it had been to allow Kovacs onto the ship in the first place. They were also all acutely aware that one stray bullet would cause serious trouble – and it would probably take half a magazine or more to penetrate that armor of his. So nobody shot. Weapons had been lowered as soon as Laurent went down, and they did not go back up to aim at Kovacs – despite that he had apparently just assaulted their “lead”. But they considered it.

Ty was stunned, and appeared utterly appalled at what had just happened. The nerve! But there was nothing to be done about it – he wasn’t stupid enough to make a move – any move – so he merely lowered his hands, ignoring the pistol that had gone clattering to the floor.

And when nobody else knew quite what to do, it was Rin who stepped up, stepping between him and the armored man as though his utterly insignificant stature meant nothing at all. It gave T’yzfir some deeply hidden satisfaction that the Commander was likely fuming at this transgression, though no hint of that would be allowed to surface. He put a reassuring hand on the Nyran’s shoulder, though he doubted that it was a necessary measure.

But – what had Rin noticed that he and the others had missed? Kovacs was communicating with someone. Ty did not like that – while not a foreboding sign in itself, it still made him uncomfortable to know that others might be watching from aboard the White Death.

Next, it was Jackson’s turn to step up – and the whole crew was pleasantly surprised. Their glimpse of the dynamic between them in the entry port had proven correct. It was suddenly apparent that the whole thing might be over without any more serious problems. Though, it didn’t stop Ty from glancing briefly to Jet with still hard, slightly skeptical eyes – even while his gaze was primarily locked on the helmeted Kovacs.

A moment of silence hung in the air following the apology from the armored man. T’yzfir’s eyes remained hard. Then, at last, he spoke – in carefully measured, restrained words that effectively held back the torrent of anger baring down on his brain.

”Your input is appreciated, Commander.” He said, with no sarcasm – his whole essence of forced diplomacy – of putting the wellbeing of the situation over his own desire to strangle someone.

Or, at least, that’s how it might have seemed.

He was a soldier. A young one, perhaps, but not incompetent. A man who may, in the not-too-distant past, have been more rash than he was now. A man actively putting to use the wisdom passed down to him by a much respected elder. Not merely trying, but succeeding admirably. In another life, he and Kovacs might have been friends.

”That said, our problem has apparently resolved itself. Clearly our friend Laurent has some measure of experience with the vessel. Dal, please run a systems check.” He spoke the last bit louder to address the fuming Armston through the camera, without taking eyes off Kovacs. She replied with a curt ”Yeah.”

Skitter skitter.

”Assuming that check comes back green, I think it would be best for us to part ways. Mr. Jackson, you are free to join on with us, if complications arise that suggest an incompatibility with our team we will drop you off at a reasonable traffic hub with fare for a ride out.”

Skitter skitter.

”Systems green, Ty.” Dallen said, over the intercom. T’yzfir merely nodded. ”Good. Again, I’d like to express my appreciation for your having stopped, Commander. I’ll be sure to send my people a note that your vessel is to be assumed friendly.”

Skitterskitterskitter”I know you!”

A gigantic spider woman came barreling and raving around the corner – and the three all stopped and turned to look with an almost perfectly coordinated deadpan-disbelief.

”Dude you have the weirdest crew.” Tsuan muttered, looking upon what might have been an alien horror to some – but was nothing particularly out of the ordinary to the squad.

When it registered exactly what she was saying, however, a light of skeptical understanding came over all three of them. Tsuan was, perhaps, more skeptical than the others – if, for some reason, Rin made any attempt to go running toward the spider-woman at the end of the hallway, he would casually stick an arm out to keep the Nyran from going farther. (Of course, he could shove and fight his way past if he really wanted to, but it was mostly a precautionary gesture anyway.) Regardless, nobody would say anything just yet – though all eyes were locked on the spider-woman…With occasional glances to see what Rin would say.

The situation had been coming to a close. Now, it seemed, a whole new can of spaceworms was opening up.

"You are the boy on the picture that the amphibian man had with his mantis friend yes! I know you!"

Rin couldn't believe his ears.

He stared at the alien female, gaze far away, still as a statue.

"... what?" His voice was... small. Vulnerable, with the faintest tremble.

They were here?

They were here??

They were here?!?

They could have died!!!

Why- how-

He swayed, holding out a hand at the last second to prevent himself from collapsing entirely on the floor, his palm making a loud smack against the nearest metal wall. He couldn't bring himself to mind. A tear made itself known, leaving a shining trail down his cheek.

Oh gods, they were somewhere in this universe and they never forgot him and they came here even though they could have died-

A heavy weight, one that had been pushed aside and ignored for far too long, lifted from his heart. He couldn't properly identify the emotion making him cry- happiness, worry, disbelief, relief?

Perhaps it was all of the above.

"... Where...?" he whispered, eyes clearing, gaze steady as he looked at the female. Even if she didn't know exactly where they were now...

Well.

He had faith.

They would find each other again.

He clung to the belief like a lifeline.

Seeing Kovac's holster his side arm and approach him, the neko sat up and looks at him with a cocky grin knowing full well he won't be full of holes. Although being punched in the face was what he wasn't expecting. Feeling that punch connect to his face, put him to the ground. He groaned in pain and spat blood upon Kovac's shoes and looks up still with his stupid smile and says "You hit like child!" in a awful Russian accent, seeing if he could agitate the White Death captain further. He slowly got up and responds "Respect? Why would I respect them, if they don't respect me?" Once on his feet, a small trickle of blood came down from his mouth as his attention was still directed at Kovac's says "I'm only in it, for me, myself and I as well as for my naive boy over there, man with no actual legs" as he points at Rin and grins at Kovac's almost as if he wants the captain to hit him again. Laurent being around machines can just tell the difference between real limbs and synthetic, hell Lord Ova would test him constantly against deactivated Z-bots who look exactly human but are instead robots and dead human bodies and identify which are real or fake. He even had those skills tested on seeing if he could identify the spy for Ova, since Kampfer would occasionally send Z-bot spies back in bad old days and with his keen eyes and sense of smell he was pretty good at that.

As the Ellen arrived and said what she had to say, one name that stood out and that was Erica. He looks at spider and Rin and says "Ah it seem's another Lord has enter the fray...of course the most dangerous one, the strongest Dimensional Lord...consider a God amongest a ravenous species of bio-mechanical organisms wishing to consume all of intelligent life in the universe" giving out his signature chuckle at the end. "Well at least she's one hell of a bloodhound though, no doubt tracking us hard and fast"

Ellen
Ellen heard Rin's question and looks down at the boy with a look of sympathy and answers "I think uhhh...uhhh where its the largest mall in the quadrant...its called..uhhh..oh! Kremlin Mall Station! There heading to Kremlin Mall since it was last you two were seen on Mercon records. I believe they are still on there way no doubt can meet up with them once you get there!" she says with excitement glad she was able to remember and answer for him. She felt kinda bad for Rin and asks innocently"Do you want a hug?"

Laurent
Laurent rolled his eyes and says "Ah Kremlin Mall. Such good memories. Shopping, people, stabbing, killing! All the good stuff indeed! HAHAHAHAH!" as he twirls around in one rotation in place. Clearly happy to go back to the Mall.

The Diplomat

Stars. Brilliant specks of white light - pinpricks of yellow - flickering, glittering, in their infinite glory. Space - the Galaxy Wide - The Forever Place, that which could make everything insignificant in comparison.

She had always found it comforting to stare out into space, to gaze glassy-eyed and thoughtful at the infinity stretched out before her. It made her feel insignificant, and she loved it. Made her feel as though perhaps there was not some great weight bearing down on her. Perhaps she was not so important. Perhaps she could just give up on this mad goose chase and go do something that mattered.

Something that mattered.

She had been utterly lost in her thoughts - that unhealthy, spiraling process that continually ate at itself. Unproductive thoughts, dwelling on her insecurities and misgivings, fretting over the future and past alike, almost panicking over things she could not hope to have any semblance of control over. She never did like not having control.

She was sitting in the chair with legs pulled up with bare feet overlapping on the edge of the seat, and arms folded over knees, from behind which she peered over, resting her head, staring at space and the myriad stars. Exactly the kind of unprofessional stance she would have stalwartly refused to adopt, before now. It was almost girlish - but it was also very comfortable. IF she had consciously realized this, she might have found it humiliating - but it was not what she thought about now. Her hair was cut much shorter now, styled in something of a utilitarian ‘pixie-cut’ that was, at most, an inch or so long, and feathered slightly at the top.

When Christofer announced his presence with a single, meek and questioning word, the woman jumped. A small sound, mostly stifled, caught at the back of her throat, almost inaudibly escaped her. In a reflexive jerk, she put her legs down and turned to look at him just a little too quickly, eyes just a little too wide. Not frightened, but startled.

Seeing who it was, though, the eyes softened and the posture became less rigid. Then, she glanced over him, head to toe, blinked, and gave that little smirk which constituted, for her, a light smile.

”Oh, hey kid.” she said. ”That...looks good on you.” The hint of awkward hesitation in the words only reinforced that she actually meant them. He did look good - particularly in those Imperial colors. The blacks, greys, whites, with only accents of hues resembling pine-green or soft blue, if any.

He was almost dressed like one of the old-fashioned Imperial officers that she had so ‘respected’ as a young girl - but she didn’t think about that. It was not an official officer's’ uniform, but it was reminiscent of the style that Ardellans tended to embrace, especially back then.

And even with only that one word he had spoken, and a general demeanor to guide her, it was already apparent that he was doing better. Functioning to some reasonable degree of correctness. There was emotion in the voice and stance - concern, admittedly - but that was better than the hazy stupor he had been in before. He was functioning again. That was good.

She just looked at him for a moment, smirking that asinine little smirk. Then, realizing that her satisfaction in seeing him doing better was showing much more than she’d have liked, the smirk faded. Besides - they needed to talk. It was better to just get it all out now, before the doubts and insecurities could come working their way back to the surface.

Only then did she taste the iron, and realize she had bitten her lip. She brought a finger to the corner of her mouth, wiped the little drop off with a thumb, and then looked at it almost uncomprehendingly for a moment, blinking, as though it were someone else’s. It was a small enough amount that it was dried onto her thumb before she thought to wipe it off on something - but that didn’t particularly matter.

”Hey, take a seat, Kid.” she said soberly, returning her attention to Christofer and gesturing toward the co-pilot’s seat. It was not a particularly daunting place to sit - just a comfortable, ergonomic seat with a sleek design that seemed to exemplify back support. One could sit at it casually without fear of accidentally pressing buttons on the control panel - as Royanna was doing now. The ship might have been flying itself.

Actually, it was.

And, of course, it had not occurred to her that the great, endless vista of stars before them would prove daunting to the kid - probably because she was such a self-centered creature.

Once he had sat, Roy took a minute to compose her thoughts. She made a few false starts. Then she gave something of a huff, upon deciding that it was not going to be an easy thing to talk about no matter what, and it would be best to just say it.

”You...look like you’re feeling a lot better. So I wanted to...talk about what to do next.” It was clearly apparent that this was something she had a very hard time mentioning. She was talking about things that downright frightened her, even though she hid it most admirably.

”I told you I’d take you to see Dr. Ritters in the Capitol City. And, it wouldn’t be fair for me to...I mean, I know you want to figure out what happened, but-...Well, there’s…” A rambling mess, unable to put the right words together. Another sigh - she was, yet again, awkwardly making an idiot of herself. Another huff - what an absolute failure she had become.

”If you want to go back to Ardella and see Ritters, I’ll take you. I just...want to make sure you’ve got all the information before making a decision.” Now it was starting to come together - but that miniscule start to successful communication was not encouraging. Her hands were fidgeting with each other in her lap.

”If we go back...I can’t make any promises. There’s...a good chance that I’ll be arrested on sight. Possibly both of us. There’s also a chance that they’ll want to hold on to you for observation in the labs. But I don’t know. Like you said, maybe we’ll go back and everything will be fine. But if things don’t go well, we’re not going to get another chance to escape like we did back there.” They would be putting themselves into the hands of the Empire, which would do with them as it saw fit. They would be relinquishing control, leaving their fate in the charge of powers greater than themselves. ”And, also, I...don’t know for certain if RItters would even know what to do with you. He’s a good scientist but I don’t know to what extent. He might have answers, or something, but...I don’t know.”

She paused for a moment, letting the idea sink in, giving Christofer time to process it - before continuing.

”Our other option is...just keep running. Maybe they’ll give up chase after a while. Maybe not. Maybe we can find answers somewhere else. Maybe track down those guys from before, on Earth IV - they made it seem like they knew you. We’d have to figure out some way to get food. Money. That sort of thing. I...I don’t know.”

Again, another pause. This time it seemed heavier. Still her hands fidgeted in her lap, and she stared hard at the floor as seemed to be a habit of hers when things got too ‘social’ or ‘intimate’.

”I…I’m sorry, T...Toffi.” It came somewhere out of left field, and there was weight in the words as though she had forced them out against hard odds. She stuttered using his nickname, as if she had to remind herself that it was okay to use it. Even then, she was concerned that it would be too weird. She was concerned about a lot of things.

”I...I shouldn’t have gotten you into this. Things could have been easy but I @#$%ed it up. If…” she squirmed a little where she sat now, biting her lip again, and still keeping eyes locked on the floor. ”I’d understand if you wanted me to drop you off somewhere.” It was clearly one of the hardest things she’d forced herself to say. Even though she was well aware that it would be a strategically stupid thing for Christofer to go off on his own into a Galaxy he knew nothing about, she felt the needed to put the option out there. She wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to never see her again, even if it would screw him in the long run.

She didn’t like to imagine it. She forced herself not to think about the possibility, however unlikely, of him taking that choice - leaving her more alone than she had ever been, and thoroughly deserving it. Of course he wouldn’t pick that option - that would be stupid.

Right?

Logic gave way to doubt though, and lingered. She couldn’t look him in the eye now, just focusing on that floor...

---

The Koolest Boat U Know

”Then, that’s where we’re headed.” Ty said, without the slightest hesitation. When the skittering creature had appeared, of course, he had turned to move into the entryway of the engine room, so that he was standing just behind Tsuan and Rin. ”Dal-” But she interrupted him before he could voice his request, voice over the intercom. ”Backtracking, but not too far. Half a day.”

She had been inputting the location coordinates the moment that the spider woman spoke the words. ”We do a high-burn we might even get there before they do - hey, Jackass. You think this tub can handle a tenner?” She was clearly addressing Laurent, then - doubtless he would be aware of the terminology.

A ’Tenner’ was slang for a maneuver that was possible only with lightweight vessels such as the Koolest Boat. Most modern starships actually had blocks in place to keep pilots from attempting the maneuver, only because most modern starships were not equipped with the crash-couches necessary to keep a person alive through the incredible G-forces that were involved. It was simply impossible for artificial gravity systems to compensate for that kind of speed.

It would be a very uncomfortable ride. Everyone would be confined to their gel-lined cresh-beds, experiencing a fantastically heavy weight pressing down upon them, and occasionally being injected with generic stimulants to keep their bodies operating at something approaching peak condition.

But it would get them to Kremlin Mall in a matter of hours.


The only concern was the general condition of the Koolest Boat - since maintenance during a tenner-burn utterly impossible, without slowing the vessel back down to a reasonable speed first, and burning vast quantities of fuel in the process. There was irony in the fact that only the cheapest ships were capable of this particular feature.

”Codsworth. We know a bit about her.” Sands mused, Ty replying with a soft, thoughtful nod. They had a good idea of where most of the Dimensional Lords stood on the ‘danger spectrum’ - Rin’s friends being in the company of the Lord of Time and Space was okay, as far as they were concerned - but since all Lords were technically the ‘enemies’ of their budding faction, it produced a tenuous circumstance.

It was common knowledge that, one day, in the distant future, when the Ningo had become great and powerful, relations with the more prominent Lords would become further stressed - especially given that one of their founding values was the liberation of the Galaxy from reliance upon the Lords.

But none of that mattered to them, currently. What mattered was that their new friend’s old friends were within reach.

”Hm.” Ty gave a small nod of assent, elaborating primarily for Rin’s benefit. ”Could be worse. Codsworth occupies a very...uncomfortable position, but she’s not evil.” Then he grinned, ever so slightly. ”It will be interesting to meet her.”

Whether or not Laurent believed the ship could handle a high-speed burn to Kremlin Mall, it seemed that the consensus had already been brought to a front. There had not been the slightest hesitation - even though Tsuan still eyed the spider-woman with some vague uncertainty. Really, none of them would believe anyone right off the bat - not when they were so vulnerable to lies and trickery - but there was little reason not to follow the woman’s tip. Admittedly, the likelihood of having met her in the first place was fantastically improbable, since so rarely did people cross paths, even in today's’ modern, cluttered Galaxy. Was it too much of a coincidence? Too good to be true? It was a possibility they all had to acknowledge.

The consensus had been reached - one way or another, their next stop was Kremlin Mall.

     THE PERRYGOLD
          BAR LOUNGE

     If that was even possible, the mysterious fencer had his confident smirk ripped away from his face with Ketin's sudden and heavy words. But, yet, it rapidly returned in the form of a confused but apologetic smile. He would try to speak...
     - H-Hey, calm down, my friend. We all saw what you did here. - But before the fencer could even finish, the boy was gone. Simply walking away from the scene, passing right through his friends without shedding not even one word. That was enough to make Cesare inconspicuous for the Eoclu.
     Now that she was distracted, it was obvious, in the eyes of the fencer, that the Eoclu would be Cesare's target if he were to fire. She was The Galaxy Wide Assassin Nirix T'Relis, after all, and she had many loose ends to be set straight, opposed to some posing playboy waving a stick-blade around.
     But still, destiny did not always favored the holiest of the creatures and it's sacred messengers, for a foreboding evil presence took over all of the room. It would go unnoticed by practically everyone inside, except for the fencer himself. The putrid wickedness concentrated on the mob boss, and the whole grim atmosphere of it had left the fencer stunned in disgusted curiosity.
     For whatever purpose this shadowy aura had spawned into the Perrygold, it was not to vanquish the Eoclu Assassin, for bloodshed was definitely enjoyable for this presence. It wanted something else. It had a diabolic need to spread darkness and death. Ultimately, it desired to destroy goodness. And so, the Fencer had an epiphany. But, at that time, it was already too late.
     There was a loud, timely deafening blast. It came from a substantially powerful, full-loaded two-barreled scatter-gun, strong enough to tear a wide hole through a layer of steel. It was pointed towards the fencer. Supposedly, there now would be a large splatter of blood and guts on the fencer's vicinity, along with his frail frame being violently propelled backwards. Life being torn apart from him at one demonic doing. That was the moment when the security team arrived, much for Cesare's dismay. However, something else was not right.

     The man did not move a single inch from where he stood. His smile was still plastered on his face, save for most of his coat and chest, which now were laid in a gory mess of cyan human flesh, as what was probably his blood immediately started to evaporate and vanish from the surroundings.

     The only reaction from the mysterious being was a frustrated sigh, followed by enigmatic words.
     - Oh, Mãe. Não esperava que fossem tão cruéis dessa vez. Uma pena. Definitivamente, é uma pena.
     Some of the people were baffled at the creature, still being able to speak softly after half of it's chest being torn off. Some were surprised by the color of it's life fluid and innards. And others didn't even care, they barged out of the lobby as soon as security came in. Curiously, though, they managed to completely ignore the strange creature as Cesare was surrounded.
     Some medics arrived to try aiding the man, but they were just gently told off.
     - Oh, thank you for the help, but I'm okay, really! The worst thing that brute did to me was destroy my coat! Hah, hah, hah!

     But then...

     Cesare felt as his very being was pierced by the titanium rapier that the fencer carried. His glasses locked tightly at the mob boss, as the fencer's joyful smile immediately faded away, leaving behind what could possibly be the most infuriated frown he had ever seen.
     - Mother is crying because of disgusting beings such as you. - However, even though his eyes were locked against of Cesare, somebody else could also hear the fencer's sayings. - I do not fear you, vile scum. My carnal form was bestowed to me by our Holiest Mother. Obey me, and trouble it no more, for my Rapier shall be swift and unforgiving. And your cursed existence will be no more.
     It was a message straight towards Ova. Even though the Fencer did not even have the slightest idea of how powerful a Dimensional Lord could be. It did not matter for him, because, after all...

     ... Greater forces were at play.

     - Well, then~! - And then, as suddenly as it faded, the fencer's smile was back on his face, still with most of his chest torn apart. The strange being would approach Nirix, walking normally towards her as if nothing had ever happened, while the security apprehended the suspects.

     - I suppose you're an Eoclu!

Cesare

The mob boss sorry face said it as well as his final words as the rapier was run through him. "It wasn't me..." was all that came out of his mouth as he looked at the man with fear and sorry, tears from his eyes saying to the man he didn't want to do this and it wasn't him. However it was too late and Cesare took a step back before falling back dead, every one was shocked by what happened. Donnie was shocked but was glad that he was out of contract with the mob and he could his own thing even if he was out of job currently. Of course he explained it to one of sercurity members which just let him go under the circumstance he was just following orders.

However the being that possessed Cesare spoke into the rapier man's head and said with toxicity "Holy men like you is what gives us trouble...I hope you burn in all eternity, but thank you for sending the mobster's soul to her lordship, we will make sure your deed won't go unrewarded" the being let out a sinister laugh before adding "Anyway I have a boy to corrupt" and the voice left.

As the voice left, its presence soon arrived towards Ketin and began to flash apocalyptic images of cities desotryed and all the people he came across dead on the street and his hands stained with blood. The voice penetrated his mind as it works to block the blue spirit that occasionally invades the fox boy's mind saying "You know what you are...the boy leaves bodies behind in his wake...destruction wherever you go, so much death and destruction even death herself has to put your time on hold to deal with all the work you cause...but...why not put your destructive nature to use? Why have it so people respect you and praise you??" In hinting at the fact in doing all of this through fear. "Do what you want without fear of yourself, take what you want...if you don't some else with more power than you will..." it states as shows an illusion of Nirix and this skinny flickering shadowy bodywith its ghostly red eyes, dark spirit begins to violate a haplesss mirage of the Eoclu assassin.

"Don't you have power Ketin? Then take her before I do" the spirit says as it gets a little explicit with its long talon fingers against the illusion of Nirix as she mouths "Please" towards Ketin giving a begging look as tears roll down her eyes. "Become the Ketin that beings fear, respect, and submit to" it adds towards the poor fox boy.

In actuality, the dark spirit occupies the darkest corner in the room by the door, just merely staring at Ketin with its ghostly eyes sending him all these images in an effort to as he said to the man wielding rapier "Corrupt the boy"


As for Donnie he made his way back to the suite and opened it to see fat tony dead on his seat, cause of death was by some demonic looking hand shaped bruises around Tony's neck...

Dimensional Lords? He remembered hearing about such beings from Kovacs and Ellen's conversation with that one lady at their short pit stop. The only things he knew about these 'Dimension Lords' was the fact that they held immense power and were forces to be reckoned with, entire civilizations brought to their knees by some of the more violent ones. Wait a second, some of these goons actually know these Lords? Oh jeez what had he gotten himself into this time? These guys were trained for warfare! One guy has borderline magical powers, another has an arsenal larger than a small planets entire military, and the others wore fatigues. It was only the purple haired boy and the spider lady that looked more out of place then him in this sea of harbingers. Most likely the purple haired boy knew something about fighting, seeing how he had been running with this outfit long enough to have a close bond with the cat-dude. And Ellen had a primal hunter instinct and natural weapons. All he had were his fists. He must look like such a meat-head to them! These guys weren't messing around going on 'adventures' and punching random things for the hell of it, these guys were trained killers with a purpose and goal, and he began to wonder if he could make it with these guys. Usually he'd just go headstrong through life, pushing past anything in his way, but if he went with these guys, and there were any problems in his way, he wasn't so sure he could push through. No, this is exactly what he was taught not to do! He grew up learning to never doubt himself, no matter the risk...or how corny it looked.

After feeling this immense amount of righteousness come forth, Jet flexed his muscles and gave a loud "YES"...even though no one had provoked him to do so...making it all the more awkward when he did it as soon as Ty and the others were explaining their next plan of action.

Tenner? He'd been around the galaxy long enough to know what those were, and he was excited! Finally something other than talking about borderline gods and being all mopey and militaristic. Something to put him on the edge of his seat! "Whose got the morphine and high-carbonate sealing tape?" chuckled Jet as he heard the overall verdict on the tenner situation. "You guys really wouldn't mind if I stayed here? I wouldn't be too much of a trouble?" asked Jet, becoming a little more serious after his joke. God these people must think he is emotionally unstable after this whole conversation thought Jet.

The security team moved with swift efficiency, herding those who needed serious medical attention away from the chaos in the cafeteria/common area and to the medical bay. Meanwhile, they calmed down those who were hysterical, murmuring about the riff-raff of the ship and locking all of them in the small and cramped cargo hull. As if that would be a suitable enough place for their lot.

Cesare had dropped dead soon after as if the possibility that the angelic man survived his fatal wounds had rendered his heart to stop beating. Nirix couldn’t deny that she was glad this was all over. Her muscles felt so unbelievably tight and taunt and when she blinked, inhaled and exhaled to control her breathing, she realized that her adrenaline had been flowing the entire time and was finally wearing off.

Her body screamed in protest of any movement, yet she jerked away from the careful touch of the medics who had come to assess her wounds. Her arm was still bleeding from before and she was fairly bruised, not to mention that her hair was a mess and she was stained with the blood of those she had the fortune to kill. In short, the Eoclu looked like she had survived some sort of horrid disaster, which technically she did. There was no doubt in her mind that what had occurred on the Perrygold would be broadcast on the Galaxy Wide news for all to see. Nirix just hoped they would specifically keep her name out of it.

She didn’t need him to start looking for her, not ever again.

With her insistence, the medics eventually left Nirix alone, though not before they had wrapped her bleeding wound in a few gauzes. Nirix knew she would be fine but couldn’t help but to fret over Ketin. She had been the useless protector again, letting Ketin walk out on her with such a heavy darkness that hung above him. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t afraid of that; Those eyes that Ketin had possessed, that had dared pierce her soul and she found herself drowning in that dark place of hatred. Even thinking about it now, made her throat close up and it harder for her to breathe.
Nirix couldn’t understand and probably wouldn’t ever understand what those eyes had seen but she knew she was determined to never let that look return upon Ketin’s face ever again. She loved him too much for that to ever be a possibility.

She was tired of playing the useless protector, of letting her da’len fall into such dark places while she stood back and fumbled with what to do. No longer would she fail, Nirix would keep trying until she would bleed.

Strengthen whatever in her that she possibly had left; Nirix wordlessly left the chaos behind and tried to bypass the Angelic stranger’s words of conversation. If it had been a better time, maybe a later date, Nirix probably wouldn’t have mind striking a curious conversation with him but right now all that matter was Ketin.

“Excuse me, I need to go” was all she spared him before sprinting down the hallway in search of him.

It took quite a bit of coaxing to keep the medics off of Wick, but Alice had managed it somehow.
“I’ll take care of him, don’t worry. I normally dress his wounds.” She had said. With the death of Cesare, things had calmed down considerably. The strange events of the day would not be forgotten, but at least they were over. With everything handled, the siblings went back to their room.
“Thanks for the gun parts.” Alice said as she began to stitch her brother’s shoulder wound shut.
“Eh, it was nothing. They definitely don’t need them anymore.” Wick replied. He was quiet for some time before adding: “You should’ve seen how strong she was. She cut through those guys like coffee paper.”
“You always manage to find yourself in dangerous company, don’t you?” Alice asked as a rhetorical question. With one last pass through, she had finished her medical work. “There. Try not to tear that open again, alright?”
“Alright,” Wick agreed. He took to his feet again, rubbing the other shoulder.
“Are you going to go help her?”
Wick shook his head no. “She ran off as we were walking away. There’s no way I could catch up with her. But there is something that could.” The flesh on Wick’s arm bubbled, black wings bursting from beneath the surface. In a burst of charcoal feathers, a crow pulled itself from the arm of her brother and sat there. Where a wound should’ve been, there was none; not even a scar remained. Alice would never be able to think of her brother’s powers as anything short of strange.
“Find Nirix, Beacon,” Wick ordered the bird. The bird gave a shrill caw and flew off out of their door and down the hall.


Through Beacon’s eyes, Wick could see the hallways of the ship. Very few people paid a bird any mind after what had happened, though there were many who looked up at it at least once. But it was not them he or Beacon were concerned with. He had to find Nirix.
But why? He thought. Why am I so fixated on this woman? Last time she talked to me, she basically told me to piss off. Still, she needs somebody to be with her. She’s got to be under a lot of stress, and I have a feeling things won’t get any easier from here. We may not have gotten off on the wrong foot, but I should do this for her.
Thankfully, it wouldn’t take long for Beacon to find the Eoclu woman as she ran. He would make sure to keep some distance as he followed so as to not warrant an attack.

D̴́̎̿̚ ̷Eͪ̅͐ͣ͑̆̿ ̽̆̎ͮͯ̎͐͞Ą̀̍̚ ͨ̒͌̚͝D́ͥ̏̊̚ ̴-ͪ ͋̎̈C̷ͭ̈ͭ͛ ͤ͝I ̓̆͌̋̉T̨̈͐ͮ̆́͐̅ ̂ͦͬ̐̋̿Y̽̂̅͛͌



The sky, black with bellowing clouds of obsidian death. Towering buildings, burned to husks, charred and crumbling, looming over a street littered with debris and bodies. The dead lay in heaps, strewn recklessly across asphalt, gored by shards of fragmentation grenades, pierced and riddled with bullets that shredded their helpless bodies into tattered scraps of flesh. Bodies crisped and blackened, cooked in the same fires that burnt them out of their homes. Children, viscera spilling from their gaping remains, skin ripped from their bodies. Eyes melted where skin clung to abyssal craters in the head. Insignificant lumps of fatty gristle strewn carelessly from where they were tossed after being ripped from their pleading mothers’ arms.

In the distance, the crackling of the flames of genocide could still be heard. The stench of putrefying gore going up in smoke to meet the dusky sky was pungent and overwhelming. A distant cry, as some innocent wretch begged for death to a godless sky. The delirious. The whining of a dog as it dragged its’ upper half, leaving a trail of bits of bone and intestine, in a last ditch attempt to join the vitrified corpse of its’ master on the other side of the street that stretched like the inky river Styx.

Not even the flies would touch this place of death. This monument to cruelty and destruction that stretched for miles, and miles, and miles in every direction. This bleak world - heinous universe of pain and suffering to match the rage of beasts that stalked within the minds of men.

She stood there, helpless, tears on her face - the tall, elven woman, looking so clean, so alive in this place - yet terror in her eyes as the lurking force of corruption lingered over her like a toxic cloud to rip out lungs and melt away flesh.

He stood facing her from a distance that would surely span centuries, perched upon a mount of corpses, standing like some Olympian god of death among the element that he had brought and embraced and become. This place was his home, this body his aspect. This black uniform his skin. Their blood, their bodies, their pain, his desperate need to see every last one of them burn, and burn, and burn, and burn. The eye glowed with radiant crimson power, basking in the glory of what they had wrought together.

And he looked upon the pleading eyes of his only friend, who begged in silence for him to step forth and save her from the encroaching doom that lurk about her, baring down on her mind and body and soul. As sick corruption became her. He breathed. She gasped and choked for breath. The thrill of carelessly ripping the life out of a helpless weakling overcame him.

And then, she was gone. In her place stood a woman with pale skin and black hair, clad in the archaic garb of some old-fashioned guard with wide-brimmed hat and billowing feather. One eye disfigured and large. A sheath at her side, but sword lying just beyond reach.

The Dimensional Lord of Darkness -

and she was trapped.

A psychic backlash descended upon her with the force of a detonating atom bomb. The power of her attack thrown back at her ten, a hundred, a thousand fold.

Mind-locked.

Body unchanged, but mind trapped in the inescapable prison of the Dead City.

She was there.

She was powerless.

She was helpless.

She was nothing.

And he stood there, watching her with hard, hot eyes, burning like giant-stars and darker than black-holes. He did not need to speak for her to know what he said.

I know what it’s like to be respected and praised. I know what being feared and obeyed is. I have known the ultimate power of holding life in my hand and snuffing it out like nothing. I have known more blackness and hate than you could ever hope to understand. You think you can scare me with my own element!

The Eye of Satan glaring down at her with contemptuous fury. The disdain of the Forsaken Angel who had thought to challenge God. A mirror of herself, broken and useless, insignificant to the universe, forgotten by time. One of the most powerful entities in the universes had been rendered, in one single, overwhelming instant, utterly, truly, and inescapably powerless. The security of power was gone. The confidence of strength and assuredness of great forces at will was gone. There were no armies in this universe to fight and die at her beck and call. There was no Nocturnus to stand by her side, no Inquisitors to carry out her cruel bidding. The loneliness stretched for eternities.

”I don’t know who you are.”

He spoke at last, voice low and hoarse, talking slow, yet seeming to scream in the dreamlike slow-motion which saturated this place.

”But touch my friend...

He held her within his unbreakable grip, clasped in an iron fist. Her own power used against her, multiplied, overwhelming in every sense. She had tried to take on the most powerful psychological artifact in the history of the Universe. A Machine designed to protect its’ user with powers more ancient than all the stars.

But it was no ordinary device.

She had created this world for him, to instill terror and regret within him - but she had miscalculated. For all the hate and loathing in the Universe could not have held a candle to that which dwelled within the monstrous heart of the thing that stood before her.

”A n d I w i l l D ̴E ̶S T͘ ͞R ̀O̴ Y y o u .”

And for the first time in eternities, Lord Ova felt in her despicable soul the truth in his words.

For the first time, she realized as an unwilling participant to her own thoughts that she had picked a fight she could not win.

No sum of soldiers would overwhelm it.

No ordinance would snuff it.

No manipulation would faze it.

And she could hide.

It would not try to find her.

But if she reached to it.

If she touched it.

It would retaliate with unimaginable force.

It would bypass the mortal coil.

It would rip through defenses like paper.

It would travel back on her own psychosis.

It would strike with brutality and existential destruction.

It would tear through her mind and disassemble it systematically until nothing remained.

And this place she had made for him, perfectly preserved in the near-infinite memory of the Devil’s Eye would become her eternal prison.

---

In one fractional instant, any semblance of darkness or foreboding corruption would be dashed from the Perrygold like a puff of ashes into the solar winds.

Lord Ova was returned to the present, mere seconds having passed despite the many lifetimes she had spent in the grip of the Devil’s Eye. Nothing had changed - except that the knowledge of her own insignificance lingered in her mind. The all-too-real possibility of a fate vastly worse than death would linger there like a black spot on her brain.

The thing she had sent to lurk in the corner of a Perrygold suite was reduced to a small, inky stain on the wall - the first unlucky victim of the backfiring psychic signal.

There was a knockingon the suite door.

The foxkin stood, stiffly and sorely. His breaths hard and heavy. Hair in his eyes, plastered to his forehead with cold sweat, the taste of vomit burning in his throat. Eyes wet, face red from where salt tears had dried. He walked, light-headed, to the door, and allowed it to open for him.

A Perrygold security officer stood before him.

Without hesitation or emotion but for the loathing in his eyes, he lunged at the man before he could utter a word. The two went stumbling to the other side of the hallway, striking the wall and collapsing to the floor where the foxkin crouched over him, one hand clasping the collar of the officer’s shirt, the other white-knuckled around the sidearm he had swiped from the officer’s holster, barrel shoved ruthlessly between his teeth so that he gagged and choked helplessly upon it.

His attacker muttered incoherently, abruptly shouting, screaming, and muttering again, through gritted teeth with breaking voice.

”Whaddyou want. What the @#$% do you want!You think you can hurt her huh? You one of them? I’ll @#$%ing kill you put a hand on her you hear me!!”