His palm felt like it was stung with a million needles.
Rin finally shifted, expression turning dark and morose. "No," he said, sullenly.
He should have known the universe had vindictive intentions. Here he was, a mere hour away from his friends- and yet, here they were. Hacked, boarded, and- what? What was going on? Why was this happening?
He looked over the intruder. If he was standing, he was sure that the man would be at least half a foot taller. The black suit seemed to be made out of a heavy cloth, the golden belt and charm on his chest glinting maliciously. The spear he held crackled with electricity, the light dancing over his orange under eye markings.
Qetan.
He'd learned more about his heritage from Vaxur. Planet Koyash, main sentient species Kiinris, divided into two races- Kiinri-Nyran and Kiinri-Qetan. Nyrans were pale, Qetans were tan, Nyran markings were typically in cool colors while Qetan markings were warm colored. Both believed in a deity called Koska, and...
Both races had a bloody history.
Whatever drove this man to travel outside of the known universe, into this one, apparently in order to seek him out, a Nyran... Was not a good reason at all.
"You have two choices," the intruder said, breaking the chilly silence. Rin shuddered. "Leave willingly with me, and I will not kill anyone in this room. Nor in this ship," he added, staring cooly as Rin's jaw clacked shut. "If not..."
He didn't need to say any more. The silence that followed the statement was enough.
Rin swallowed, throat feeling constricted, a stone on his chest. He... he couldn't let anything happen to Tsuan. He couldn't let anything happen to Dal, or Ty, or Sands. They helped him. He needed to... protect them.
But his friends- they would feel-
He fiddled with his wrists, then, quietly, reached up to clasp the hand that was on his shoulder. "Promise?" he asked, looking up at gold eyes. Eyes the same color as his.
He pressed a smooth, grey device unto the back of Tsuan's hand. Carefully, eyes locked with the intruder, he maneuvered in underneath Tsuan's palm, a small barrier between his shoulder and the comforting clasped hand.
"Yes."
Shut eyes. A bowed head.
"... Alright then."
Rin finally shifted, expression turning dark and morose. "No," he said, sullenly.
He should have known the universe had vindictive intentions. Here he was, a mere hour away from his friends- and yet, here they were. Hacked, boarded, and- what? What was going on? Why was this happening?
He looked over the intruder. If he was standing, he was sure that the man would be at least half a foot taller. The black suit seemed to be made out of a heavy cloth, the golden belt and charm on his chest glinting maliciously. The spear he held crackled with electricity, the light dancing over his orange under eye markings.
Qetan.
He'd learned more about his heritage from Vaxur. Planet Koyash, main sentient species Kiinris, divided into two races- Kiinri-Nyran and Kiinri-Qetan. Nyrans were pale, Qetans were tan, Nyran markings were typically in cool colors while Qetan markings were warm colored. Both believed in a deity called Koska, and...
Both races had a bloody history.
Whatever drove this man to travel outside of the known universe, into this one, apparently in order to seek him out, a Nyran... Was not a good reason at all.
"You have two choices," the intruder said, breaking the chilly silence. Rin shuddered. "Leave willingly with me, and I will not kill anyone in this room. Nor in this ship," he added, staring cooly as Rin's jaw clacked shut. "If not..."
He didn't need to say any more. The silence that followed the statement was enough.
Rin swallowed, throat feeling constricted, a stone on his chest. He... he couldn't let anything happen to Tsuan. He couldn't let anything happen to Dal, or Ty, or Sands. They helped him. He needed to... protect them.
But his friends- they would feel-
He fiddled with his wrists, then, quietly, reached up to clasp the hand that was on his shoulder. "Promise?" he asked, looking up at gold eyes. Eyes the same color as his.
He pressed a smooth, grey device unto the back of Tsuan's hand. Carefully, eyes locked with the intruder, he maneuvered in underneath Tsuan's palm, a small barrier between his shoulder and the comforting clasped hand.
"Yes."
Shut eyes. A bowed head.
"... Alright then."
The Koolest Boat U Know
Tsuan seemed to take it all in stride. Actually, he seemed in some respect to lighten up a little once he was fully aware that there was no positive in the situation. All was lost – might as well not get too upset over it. Though he did not directly respond to Rin’s confirmation that this was, in fact, not a friend, the shift in his muscles from tense and ready to spring to something more relaxed was noticeable. The frown had not disappeared, nor so much as lessened – but there was an easiness about him suddenly – the sort of calm that came with a decision well-made.
He listened to the intruder’s ultimatum – it was a simple one. That was good at least, right? Not that either option looked particularly better than the other. All in all it was an unfortunate turn of events and he wasn’t happy about it. Rin put his own hand to Tsuans, the Hi’tzen man glancing thoughtfully back and forth between the two ‘aliens’. This was it, then. The mission had failed. There was nothing left to stress over, and it was out of his hands. There was nothing he could do, and it couldn’t be helped.
He felt something – something smooth, possibly metallic, or plastic – he couldn’t tell and wasn’t thinking about it too much. He seemed more interested in the interactions between the two of them, and possibly focused on some inward thought process.
And, after what seemed like a very long time, Rin agreed to go without a fight. Tsuan gave a decisive little huff, and nodded, accepting the situation grimly, but with relatively good humor. He gave a hefty, helpless shrug, and shoved his hands into his pockets – depositing the device there with an impressive sleight of hand – except that he didn’t. He put it into his pocket, not allowing it to be seen – then took it back out of his pocket, allowing only a minute glimmer of grey to be glimpsed through his palm. He held the thing up to his ear, as if it were a walkie-talkie – as if he had been keeping it in his pocket the whole time, and was just now taking it out for use.
Simultaneously, he shifted one foot back slightly, so that his heel nudged the contact point on the base of the gravity lounger. The gesture was so very slight as to be utterly invisible even to an attentive onlooker – since he was already backed up against it anyway. The contact was, of course, a means of making a direct connection to the bridge in case of emergency during high-G maneuvers.
”Hey, so, looks like I’m gonna’ be taking a little trip.” He said, with perfect casualness, dragging his voice out to something of a drawl as he spoke. ”One of Rin’s friends showed up. Seems like a real swell guy. Not sure when I’ll be back, so good luck in the meantime, and it was good working with ya’. Give the Boss my regards.” Then, decisively, he tossed the little grey device over his shoulder, where it landed on the floor behind the gravity lounger with a light clattering sound – still out of sight of the intruder, and with no reason to believe it was anything other than a communicator that Tsuan himself had produced.
Inevitably, some flavor of stunned silence would follow this ridiculous man’s ridiculous words – but he seemed oblivious – looking back and forth between the two others as if trying hopelessly to figure out what part of this they weren’t comprehending. It seemed perfectly simple to him.
Then he said, cocking an eyebrow, plucking as if he were stating the blatantly obvious and making unflinching eye contact with the staff-wielding man ”What? You do want him alive, right?”
But apparently that too did not make any sense. So the oriental-featured man gave an exasperated puff, and went about explaining it as though he were speaking to a child. ”Boss didn’t want our friend here falling into the wrong hands, so she put all sorts of crazy @#$% into him when he wasn’t looking as precautionary measures. So unless you want him spontaneously turning into a type-two supernova, you’re going to want to keep the two of us in very close proximity.”
And it might have been the perfect moment for what could only be described as a ’@#$%-eating grin’, but he made no such expression. For all intents and purposes, he was dead serious. Had Cathorine really done such a thing? There was no reason to disbelieve him – and, it seemed, every reason to take him seriously.
”So,” He concluded, almost impatiently, ”Onward and outward.” And he flashed a bright smile briefly toward Rin – utterly oblivious to any ambivalence he might have had plastered all over his face.
Tsuan seemed to take it all in stride. Actually, he seemed in some respect to lighten up a little once he was fully aware that there was no positive in the situation. All was lost – might as well not get too upset over it. Though he did not directly respond to Rin’s confirmation that this was, in fact, not a friend, the shift in his muscles from tense and ready to spring to something more relaxed was noticeable. The frown had not disappeared, nor so much as lessened – but there was an easiness about him suddenly – the sort of calm that came with a decision well-made.
He listened to the intruder’s ultimatum – it was a simple one. That was good at least, right? Not that either option looked particularly better than the other. All in all it was an unfortunate turn of events and he wasn’t happy about it. Rin put his own hand to Tsuans, the Hi’tzen man glancing thoughtfully back and forth between the two ‘aliens’. This was it, then. The mission had failed. There was nothing left to stress over, and it was out of his hands. There was nothing he could do, and it couldn’t be helped.
He felt something – something smooth, possibly metallic, or plastic – he couldn’t tell and wasn’t thinking about it too much. He seemed more interested in the interactions between the two of them, and possibly focused on some inward thought process.
And, after what seemed like a very long time, Rin agreed to go without a fight. Tsuan gave a decisive little huff, and nodded, accepting the situation grimly, but with relatively good humor. He gave a hefty, helpless shrug, and shoved his hands into his pockets – depositing the device there with an impressive sleight of hand – except that he didn’t. He put it into his pocket, not allowing it to be seen – then took it back out of his pocket, allowing only a minute glimmer of grey to be glimpsed through his palm. He held the thing up to his ear, as if it were a walkie-talkie – as if he had been keeping it in his pocket the whole time, and was just now taking it out for use.
Simultaneously, he shifted one foot back slightly, so that his heel nudged the contact point on the base of the gravity lounger. The gesture was so very slight as to be utterly invisible even to an attentive onlooker – since he was already backed up against it anyway. The contact was, of course, a means of making a direct connection to the bridge in case of emergency during high-G maneuvers.
”Hey, so, looks like I’m gonna’ be taking a little trip.” He said, with perfect casualness, dragging his voice out to something of a drawl as he spoke. ”One of Rin’s friends showed up. Seems like a real swell guy. Not sure when I’ll be back, so good luck in the meantime, and it was good working with ya’. Give the Boss my regards.” Then, decisively, he tossed the little grey device over his shoulder, where it landed on the floor behind the gravity lounger with a light clattering sound – still out of sight of the intruder, and with no reason to believe it was anything other than a communicator that Tsuan himself had produced.
Inevitably, some flavor of stunned silence would follow this ridiculous man’s ridiculous words – but he seemed oblivious – looking back and forth between the two others as if trying hopelessly to figure out what part of this they weren’t comprehending. It seemed perfectly simple to him.
Then he said, cocking an eyebrow, plucking as if he were stating the blatantly obvious and making unflinching eye contact with the staff-wielding man ”What? You do want him alive, right?”
But apparently that too did not make any sense. So the oriental-featured man gave an exasperated puff, and went about explaining it as though he were speaking to a child. ”Boss didn’t want our friend here falling into the wrong hands, so she put all sorts of crazy @#$% into him when he wasn’t looking as precautionary measures. So unless you want him spontaneously turning into a type-two supernova, you’re going to want to keep the two of us in very close proximity.”
And it might have been the perfect moment for what could only be described as a ’@#$%-eating grin’, but he made no such expression. For all intents and purposes, he was dead serious. Had Cathorine really done such a thing? There was no reason to disbelieve him – and, it seemed, every reason to take him seriously.
”So,” He concluded, almost impatiently, ”Onward and outward.” And he flashed a bright smile briefly toward Rin – utterly oblivious to any ambivalence he might have had plastered all over his face.
She had been lost in some sort of nonsensical mumblings about unimportant whatifs. The grabbing of her hand drew her out, and she followed without complaint. She barely registered that the two other people -- Caru and Yascra -- were even there anymore. She didn't seem to notice when the lighting became brighter, and the tone of the setting changed. She'd sit down -- with prompting, of course -- on the circle of seats, and quietly ask, "Drakis, we're still on the Stella, aren't we?"
She wasn't looking at him, and didn't expect an answer, but she seemed to be a bit upset as she came back to the reality of the situation. She waited in silence like the others with her until they stopped. Then, she stood again, and followed quietly after Drakis once more. She watched the men and women clad in labcoats curiously, though it almost looked like she was looking at a painting than walking down a hallway. A third person experience of it all.
She stared at the door, uncomprehending, and then glanced once more at the outline of the firearm on his thigh. Perhaps. Now.
She blurted something about the doctor having a weird voice, and that was the only contribution she gave to the whole conversation, still trying to psyche herself up to grabbing it from him and shooting herself. Where was the best place to shoot herself? She thought maybe getting as close to the brain stem and aiming at it as possible, since, if she remembered correctly, controlled everything that kept the body alive.
She couldn't do it. But her eyes were a blatant giveaway of her thought process. She snapped back as they were walking again, trying to judge if anyone had noticed her staring.
The table in the Command Center was inviting enough the next time she was completely aware of her surroundings. She wouldn't sit, however, entirely convinced that something was wrong. She even looked very, very worried when Drakis sat down.
Random prickling thoughts all competed for her mind's full attention. This was something she'd never had to deal wit. Years of calculated thought had never prepared her for chaos like the battlefield within her own head.
Thoughts, thoughts, all trying to get her mind to focus on them at the same time.. One was rather odd. She tried her best to focus, expand on it.
Maybe the Stella could be home.. If she can't get back to Mars then this place will have to do.. Maybe a family, a job, a house. Maybe she could work with this. It wasn't that different from Mars, after all. There was a lot of silver and grey, after all, and rarely any color. But no matter what, she'd miss the sight of swirling red sand.
Odd. She'd never imagined that even a part of her brain would so quickly get over the loss. It didn't matter. She wasn't staying long.. She still had an objective. She could probably do it right now, his reflexes would be slow to stop her due to him sitting down. She was getting tired...
Sometime after they all sat, Rya finally joined them, and looked over at Drakis curiously.
"When we're done here can we visit the infirmary? I need to talk to someone. If he isn't there it's fine."
She wasn't looking at him, and didn't expect an answer, but she seemed to be a bit upset as she came back to the reality of the situation. She waited in silence like the others with her until they stopped. Then, she stood again, and followed quietly after Drakis once more. She watched the men and women clad in labcoats curiously, though it almost looked like she was looking at a painting than walking down a hallway. A third person experience of it all.
She stared at the door, uncomprehending, and then glanced once more at the outline of the firearm on his thigh. Perhaps. Now.
She blurted something about the doctor having a weird voice, and that was the only contribution she gave to the whole conversation, still trying to psyche herself up to grabbing it from him and shooting herself. Where was the best place to shoot herself? She thought maybe getting as close to the brain stem and aiming at it as possible, since, if she remembered correctly, controlled everything that kept the body alive.
She couldn't do it. But her eyes were a blatant giveaway of her thought process. She snapped back as they were walking again, trying to judge if anyone had noticed her staring.
The table in the Command Center was inviting enough the next time she was completely aware of her surroundings. She wouldn't sit, however, entirely convinced that something was wrong. She even looked very, very worried when Drakis sat down.
Random prickling thoughts all competed for her mind's full attention. This was something she'd never had to deal wit. Years of calculated thought had never prepared her for chaos like the battlefield within her own head.
Thoughts, thoughts, all trying to get her mind to focus on them at the same time.. One was rather odd. She tried her best to focus, expand on it.
Maybe the Stella could be home.. If she can't get back to Mars then this place will have to do.. Maybe a family, a job, a house. Maybe she could work with this. It wasn't that different from Mars, after all. There was a lot of silver and grey, after all, and rarely any color. But no matter what, she'd miss the sight of swirling red sand.
Odd. She'd never imagined that even a part of her brain would so quickly get over the loss. It didn't matter. She wasn't staying long.. She still had an objective. She could probably do it right now, his reflexes would be slow to stop her due to him sitting down. She was getting tired...
Sometime after they all sat, Rya finally joined them, and looked over at Drakis curiously.
"When we're done here can we visit the infirmary? I need to talk to someone. If he isn't there it's fine."
The boy gave a light nod when Royanna mentioned she wasn't going to quiz him about the things he had just heard. At least it would prevent the chances of him sounding or seeming stupid, and he was thankful of that. But the fact that this was rather important information that he had in front of himself now, it would still be for the best that he knew and understood it. It was like an everyday thing to the people here, it was a necessity. He'd need to learn it sooner than later if possible.
Maybe he could ask Royanna to tell him more when they sat down with some food. Maybe... But not now.
And on the other note, Christofer would indeed not really care much for the thoughts of Ardellans (if you called them that). He did care, but he did not know them so everything was just a mystery brought up by his curiosity, however, he was more interested in the rest of the people onboard the Diplomat right now.
So hearing that there were no others? That earned some blinks on its own.
"Uhhh...... Y-Yeah... I guess it would be a little strange that she'd be gone..." That comment meant for the robot. He was trying to comprehend with the fact that there were no others now, but it took some time, and things overlapping with this information? His head had a sudden blank moment. Right, he did know that the person that Roy had trouble remembering the name of, he did kinda sorta remember that she was gone, but that was a bit of a mystery still. Anything that happened after he hit his head became slowly more lost, but the important parts were still there. He could certainly nod with a quick "Mhm..." to the whole chaotic part.
It was so strange though... They were alone... Just them... His hands took a mild grip of the seat Royanna sat on, the information slowly registering bit by bit. Suppose he was glad that if he had to be left alone with Someone of the group, that that one had been Kallenger. Because her he at least somewhat knew for more than a couple frantic hours. And even further than just that now too, on a good way of knowing more, but it was still a thing to consider.
But knowing that it was just the two of them, and the emptiness of space, vast and unknown to him... He couldn't help inching even closer to the woman. Slightly tense in his body language, he was, again, considering getting on the seat, but restrained himself just barely, thanks to feeling paralyzed and unable to move as a whole. It was only due to that that his body wasn't shaking uncontrollably. Tail, while wrapped about the seat, had a light nervous sway to its tip.
Breathing vas very slow, almost as if he'd have been holding it unintentionally while his attention was on the screen and all the information that passed right through him as his wide eyed gaze seemed to look right past them.
He was rather lost again, and felt empty.
Hearing Royanna talk, it wasn't something he thought much about, rather he just went for it when he heard a voice. Any voice and that was fine, any person and it was going to be ok. Didn't matter, he was leaning his head and a little more against Royanna, like he would have just found a flashlight in the dark cellar of all places. And he held onto that light, in the form of leaning and partly clinging onto the woman, leaving space to move and all that, but he was leaning in very close without really thinking much about it.
"Ja... Two hours... It'll be fine..." Speaking somewhat distantly, saying and stating the obvious, maybe only to calm himself, but his body still clung onto the other even as his mind was somewhere out of reach.
The others weren't around, the stress inside of him told him to make sure that the last person he had wouldn't disappear and leave him too.
Maybe he could ask Royanna to tell him more when they sat down with some food. Maybe... But not now.
And on the other note, Christofer would indeed not really care much for the thoughts of Ardellans (if you called them that). He did care, but he did not know them so everything was just a mystery brought up by his curiosity, however, he was more interested in the rest of the people onboard the Diplomat right now.
So hearing that there were no others? That earned some blinks on its own.
"Uhhh...... Y-Yeah... I guess it would be a little strange that she'd be gone..." That comment meant for the robot. He was trying to comprehend with the fact that there were no others now, but it took some time, and things overlapping with this information? His head had a sudden blank moment. Right, he did know that the person that Roy had trouble remembering the name of, he did kinda sorta remember that she was gone, but that was a bit of a mystery still. Anything that happened after he hit his head became slowly more lost, but the important parts were still there. He could certainly nod with a quick "Mhm..." to the whole chaotic part.
It was so strange though... They were alone... Just them... His hands took a mild grip of the seat Royanna sat on, the information slowly registering bit by bit. Suppose he was glad that if he had to be left alone with Someone of the group, that that one had been Kallenger. Because her he at least somewhat knew for more than a couple frantic hours. And even further than just that now too, on a good way of knowing more, but it was still a thing to consider.
But knowing that it was just the two of them, and the emptiness of space, vast and unknown to him... He couldn't help inching even closer to the woman. Slightly tense in his body language, he was, again, considering getting on the seat, but restrained himself just barely, thanks to feeling paralyzed and unable to move as a whole. It was only due to that that his body wasn't shaking uncontrollably. Tail, while wrapped about the seat, had a light nervous sway to its tip.
Breathing vas very slow, almost as if he'd have been holding it unintentionally while his attention was on the screen and all the information that passed right through him as his wide eyed gaze seemed to look right past them.
He was rather lost again, and felt empty.
Hearing Royanna talk, it wasn't something he thought much about, rather he just went for it when he heard a voice. Any voice and that was fine, any person and it was going to be ok. Didn't matter, he was leaning his head and a little more against Royanna, like he would have just found a flashlight in the dark cellar of all places. And he held onto that light, in the form of leaning and partly clinging onto the woman, leaving space to move and all that, but he was leaning in very close without really thinking much about it.
"Ja... Two hours... It'll be fine..." Speaking somewhat distantly, saying and stating the obvious, maybe only to calm himself, but his body still clung onto the other even as his mind was somewhere out of reach.
The others weren't around, the stress inside of him told him to make sure that the last person he had wouldn't disappear and leave him too.
Reqti didn't speak for a long while, eyes hardly leaving the two in front of him, expression blank. He didn't even seem to move, save for the subtle breaths that made the ornament on his chest glint in the red light.
"Very well."
He straightened from his brooding posture, relaxing as he spotted the slump in the Nyran's shoulders. He gripped his staff.
Pointed-
hwaZZzzZTshah
The little Nyran was too shocked to respond- one more shot and he too fell, stunned in more ways then one, falling unconscious next to his friend.
He threw both bodies over his shoulders- admittedly with some complication, but not much- and promptly spoke into his communicator.
"Ready for transport."
"Acknowledged. I'm in position."
He fired his weapon onto the wall, destabilizing the atoms connecting said wall to space. He stode through-
And met the eyes of Tahil. She was smirking.
They had not died in the cold unforgiving reaches of space. Tahil had managed to connect the walls of both ships temporarily, making sure that his aether affected their wall as well. As usual, her calculations were flawless.
She activated the hyperspace window... and they were gone.
Rin awoke a few minutes later to find himself staring up at darkness.
He shook his head groggily, vision blurry. His left palm prickled as he sluggishly turned his head-
"Good to see you're not dead."
It was an accented voice, female- high in pitch but low in tone, a faint huskiness touching the slightly emphasized vowels.
His right palm started to sting. He moved his head again to look up at the ceiling- the female at his left, the intruder at his right. The platform he was laying on started to glow.
"Let's begin."
A single cell, dimly lit, would have seemed a little out of place.
But if one took to account to the scientist on board...
It would be a cause for concern.
The shield would give a painful sting to anyone trying to even touch the doors of the small prison. Nobody came in, and nobody came out.
... Unless someone deactivated the shields and the lock from the outside.
Impossible.
That's what it might look like, from Tsuan's initial perspective- once he woke up, that is.
Fortunately, he wouldn't be alone.
In the very back of the cell was what seemed to be some sort of stasis pod.
It was occupied.
Only part of the face would be visible, but it would be enough. A head of black hair, and two dark green markings under the eyes.
The grey device beeped, a purple dot glowing on its surface. Once touched, a holographic map would appear.
It was a tracker. A subspace tracking device, in fact- one that seemed to have all of its safety protocols disabled- leaving the location of the person being tracked open for all to see.
One hour away.
"Very well."
He straightened from his brooding posture, relaxing as he spotted the slump in the Nyran's shoulders. He gripped his staff.
Pointed-
hwaZZzzZTshah
The little Nyran was too shocked to respond- one more shot and he too fell, stunned in more ways then one, falling unconscious next to his friend.
He threw both bodies over his shoulders- admittedly with some complication, but not much- and promptly spoke into his communicator.
"Ready for transport."
"Acknowledged. I'm in position."
He fired his weapon onto the wall, destabilizing the atoms connecting said wall to space. He stode through-
And met the eyes of Tahil. She was smirking.
They had not died in the cold unforgiving reaches of space. Tahil had managed to connect the walls of both ships temporarily, making sure that his aether affected their wall as well. As usual, her calculations were flawless.
She activated the hyperspace window... and they were gone.
Rin awoke a few minutes later to find himself staring up at darkness.
He shook his head groggily, vision blurry. His left palm prickled as he sluggishly turned his head-
"Good to see you're not dead."
It was an accented voice, female- high in pitch but low in tone, a faint huskiness touching the slightly emphasized vowels.
His right palm started to sting. He moved his head again to look up at the ceiling- the female at his left, the intruder at his right. The platform he was laying on started to glow.
"Let's begin."
A single cell, dimly lit, would have seemed a little out of place.
But if one took to account to the scientist on board...
It would be a cause for concern.
The shield would give a painful sting to anyone trying to even touch the doors of the small prison. Nobody came in, and nobody came out.
... Unless someone deactivated the shields and the lock from the outside.
Impossible.
That's what it might look like, from Tsuan's initial perspective- once he woke up, that is.
Fortunately, he wouldn't be alone.
In the very back of the cell was what seemed to be some sort of stasis pod.
It was occupied.
Only part of the face would be visible, but it would be enough. A head of black hair, and two dark green markings under the eyes.
The grey device beeped, a purple dot glowing on its surface. Once touched, a holographic map would appear.
It was a tracker. A subspace tracking device, in fact- one that seemed to have all of its safety protocols disabled- leaving the location of the person being tracked open for all to see.
One hour away.
Laurent heard, Tsun's little comment, but ignored it as he made his way back into the cargo bay, hooping onto the large turret of the tank and sat there as he huffs to himself as his tail occasionally move as he stares out into the small window into the blackness of space, staring into its abyss. Only cut out of his trance, by one person that he would never expect to appear to talk to him, being the muscle bound Jet.
He shook his head out of his moment of staring into nothingness, hearing Jet's voice. He looks over his shoulder, his cat like eyes staring at him, before looking away and says "So, out of all of these people on this boat...you come to me. So are you here to criticize me like the others or just laugh? I just want to be alone, I am leaving and there is nothing you can do to stop me" calmly saying it all as he looks out at the window once more. "Once I leave, back to my usual way making money, eating cheese and napping, not having to hear anyone else call me out" he adds as he continues to look out.
As Jet would no doubt, speak, Laurent would listen to him seeing what he had to say. Even as he did that, cat's hairs began to stand as the unknown intruder sneaked himself towards Rin. His ears twitch and he felt this similar feeling as if being watched by Ova's Dark Spirits. His shift around and as everything began to move as if the ship was hunted,Laurent snapped thinking that one of her Dark spirits was causing this and no doubt was on its way towards Rin. The only question is why? If she knows that this group was heading towards her, why send someone to retrieve him? All the cat can do is hope that he can convince the spirit to not do this.
With the door close and no doubt the squad sealing this place tight, there was one way towards Rin location and that was through the vents and being the cat as he was able to go throw the vents. So using his body mass to jumped down from the tank and bused open the vent, it hurt a bit, but from there he was able to crawl through the vents searching for Rin. Since he didn't know where he was going, it took him a little bit, but he soon found the vent within the shaft seeing the unknown assailant take Rin through a portal. It was no dark spirit, but he would be damned if he didn't try to do something and so he bused the opened the vent in the ceiling and ran towards the portal before it could close.
If he was successful then, he would immediately hide in a dark place and watch to see what was happening and if not successful, he would just slam his face against the wall and lay there, trying to figure out who that tan skin man was with the staff as he took Rin.
He shook his head out of his moment of staring into nothingness, hearing Jet's voice. He looks over his shoulder, his cat like eyes staring at him, before looking away and says "So, out of all of these people on this boat...you come to me. So are you here to criticize me like the others or just laugh? I just want to be alone, I am leaving and there is nothing you can do to stop me" calmly saying it all as he looks out at the window once more. "Once I leave, back to my usual way making money, eating cheese and napping, not having to hear anyone else call me out" he adds as he continues to look out.
As Jet would no doubt, speak, Laurent would listen to him seeing what he had to say. Even as he did that, cat's hairs began to stand as the unknown intruder sneaked himself towards Rin. His ears twitch and he felt this similar feeling as if being watched by Ova's Dark Spirits. His shift around and as everything began to move as if the ship was hunted,Laurent snapped thinking that one of her Dark spirits was causing this and no doubt was on its way towards Rin. The only question is why? If she knows that this group was heading towards her, why send someone to retrieve him? All the cat can do is hope that he can convince the spirit to not do this.
With the door close and no doubt the squad sealing this place tight, there was one way towards Rin location and that was through the vents and being the cat as he was able to go throw the vents. So using his body mass to jumped down from the tank and bused open the vent, it hurt a bit, but from there he was able to crawl through the vents searching for Rin. Since he didn't know where he was going, it took him a little bit, but he soon found the vent within the shaft seeing the unknown assailant take Rin through a portal. It was no dark spirit, but he would be damned if he didn't try to do something and so he bused the opened the vent in the ceiling and ran towards the portal before it could close.
If he was successful then, he would immediately hide in a dark place and watch to see what was happening and if not successful, he would just slam his face against the wall and lay there, trying to figure out who that tan skin man was with the staff as he took Rin.
"Jack approaching exfil craft." is all Jack said before leaving his cover now that the enemy soldiers had been suppressed. But even as he crossed, a couple of them risked the scarily accurate incoming fire to peek out and take several haphazard shots as he moved past. Jack stumbles as a couple of round strike his lower leg armor before he makes it into the ships shield. With a limp, he hurries over to Apex "Sergeant Jack Black, Union SIS. Thanks for saving our hides. The Little Lady will be here soon."
Asya could see the White Death. Like Jack, she knew if dropships where staying distant, then someone was preparing a guided strike. Taking cover, she sets down her recovered equipment. Peeking around her cover for where the laser unit might be, she notes the spaceports control tower. It was the only place high enough to target the ship and not be directly in the line of fire.
Readying her rifle and aiming through the scope, Asya aims directly at the top of the tower. As she had thought, a pair of soldiers stood in the control booth busily setting up a large laser designator. Without taking her eye away from the scope, Asya makes an adjustment to her rifle, which begins to hum loudly. Sighted in on the laser unit itself, she says into the radio "Little Lady, Magnum." before firing. What followed next was the most peculiar sound, like that of dropping a quarter into a empty washtub followed a sudden explosion in the tower control booth.
No sooner then she has finished firing, Asya grabs up her gear and begun running towards the White Death. With both hands taken up by her looted gear, her rifle hangs from her shoulder by it's sling, the barrel looking bent and warped even at a distance. Coming to a stop beside Jack she nods towards the boarding ramp " Major Żuraw. We need to go before they get any naval assets in orbit."
Asya could see the White Death. Like Jack, she knew if dropships where staying distant, then someone was preparing a guided strike. Taking cover, she sets down her recovered equipment. Peeking around her cover for where the laser unit might be, she notes the spaceports control tower. It was the only place high enough to target the ship and not be directly in the line of fire.
Readying her rifle and aiming through the scope, Asya aims directly at the top of the tower. As she had thought, a pair of soldiers stood in the control booth busily setting up a large laser designator. Without taking her eye away from the scope, Asya makes an adjustment to her rifle, which begins to hum loudly. Sighted in on the laser unit itself, she says into the radio "Little Lady, Magnum." before firing. What followed next was the most peculiar sound, like that of dropping a quarter into a empty washtub followed a sudden explosion in the tower control booth.
No sooner then she has finished firing, Asya grabs up her gear and begun running towards the White Death. With both hands taken up by her looted gear, her rifle hangs from her shoulder by it's sling, the barrel looking bent and warped even at a distance. Coming to a stop beside Jack she nods towards the boarding ramp " Major Żuraw. We need to go before they get any naval assets in orbit."
Kovacs turned his attention to the sergeant briefly before snapping off a burst of plasma fire. "Report to the infirmary soldier." Nothing more was said due to the gorgeous fireball that was the flight control tower. Say what you want about the commander, but he could certainly appreciate a good boom. Soon thereafter, the major joined the trio.
"Commander Kovacs," he introduced himself as he strode calmly onto his ship. "Good to have you aboard, Major."
With everyone important present and accounted for, the White Death rose into the air from its resting place, landing gear and cargo ramp closing as the corvette turned towards the sky. Kovacs had the major walk her man to the medbay, where they would reunite with their third member. "All hands, batten down and strap in for frame shift. Execution in thirty-two seconds," he took the stairs to the CIC, settling in the pilot's seat just in time for the autopilot to engage the impulse drives.
Impulse drives were a relatively new addition to the FSD, being introduced in 3289. They were built for a sort of short range Hyperjump in system, but without actually entering Witchspace. They were not meant to be used in atmosphere, as the resulting shockwave would often level anything behind the ship, even from a kilometre above the ground. The White Death was only 800 metres up, thanks to the low angle of climb they were forced to take in order to keep everyone inside from falling sideways.
Once the stormy grey of the planet's... well, storm, gave way to twinkling black, Kovacs angled towards the system's lone yellow star. Once they were in a stable orbit around the big burning ball of gas, he'd make his way to the medbay to properly meet the newcomers. And ask them to join his merry band of...somethings....
"Commander Kovacs," he introduced himself as he strode calmly onto his ship. "Good to have you aboard, Major."
With everyone important present and accounted for, the White Death rose into the air from its resting place, landing gear and cargo ramp closing as the corvette turned towards the sky. Kovacs had the major walk her man to the medbay, where they would reunite with their third member. "All hands, batten down and strap in for frame shift. Execution in thirty-two seconds," he took the stairs to the CIC, settling in the pilot's seat just in time for the autopilot to engage the impulse drives.
Impulse drives were a relatively new addition to the FSD, being introduced in 3289. They were built for a sort of short range Hyperjump in system, but without actually entering Witchspace. They were not meant to be used in atmosphere, as the resulting shockwave would often level anything behind the ship, even from a kilometre above the ground. The White Death was only 800 metres up, thanks to the low angle of climb they were forced to take in order to keep everyone inside from falling sideways.
Once the stormy grey of the planet's... well, storm, gave way to twinkling black, Kovacs angled towards the system's lone yellow star. Once they were in a stable orbit around the big burning ball of gas, he'd make his way to the medbay to properly meet the newcomers. And ask them to join his merry band of...somethings....
Though he had no reason to trust Gwen or Sweetcheeks, Riagan assumed that there was little reason for them to turn on him or Ringo. When she threw the triangular device it was impulse alone that made him reach to catch it, but he could feel the shift in its magnetic field down his arm seconds before it made contact. It wasn't much a surprise that she controlled these items, he thought; more so that she'd be so comfortable throwing them at an armed stranger.
The mercenary maintained his focus on her while replying. "Assume we screw up. What's plan B?" As the ship started to take off he let a small, irritable grunt. The cyborg knew that he could make them return to this planet if he wanted out but found it somewhat rude that they were setting off so quickly.
The mercenary maintained his focus on her while replying. "Assume we screw up. What's plan B?" As the ship started to take off he let a small, irritable grunt. The cyborg knew that he could make them return to this planet if he wanted out but found it somewhat rude that they were setting off so quickly.
White Death
As everything that has happened, Ellen and the slim retreated into the dark closet room that Ellen sleeps in. Ellen and Dietrich where next to each other, waiting to see what will happen. However, hearing Kovac's distinctive footsteps on the White Death made Ellen perk up and feeling the craft take off, it was clear they were in the clear. With Dietrich on her top of her abdomen coloring with a caryon on a piece of paper, Ellen walks out of the closet and follows Kovacs.
"I'm guessing we have more guests yes?" she asks him, as she follows behind him, she slight exposes her abdomen towards Kovac's if he looks back to see where the slime girl was and would clearly see she was coloring and drawing on a piece of paper with a crayon. "Don't worry she's with me" Ellen says to him trying to ease his nerves if he was slightly paranoid of the slime girl as they both went to meet there new guests on the ship.
As everything that has happened, Ellen and the slim retreated into the dark closet room that Ellen sleeps in. Ellen and Dietrich where next to each other, waiting to see what will happen. However, hearing Kovac's distinctive footsteps on the White Death made Ellen perk up and feeling the craft take off, it was clear they were in the clear. With Dietrich on her top of her abdomen coloring with a caryon on a piece of paper, Ellen walks out of the closet and follows Kovacs.
"I'm guessing we have more guests yes?" she asks him, as she follows behind him, she slight exposes her abdomen towards Kovac's if he looks back to see where the slime girl was and would clearly see she was coloring and drawing on a piece of paper with a crayon. "Don't worry she's with me" Ellen says to him trying to ease his nerves if he was slightly paranoid of the slime girl as they both went to meet there new guests on the ship.
The Diplomat
Royanna wouldn’t have been conscious of Christofer’s gradually moving closer if it hadn’t been for the sudden stiffness and the subtle shifting in the way he breathed.
What the Agent lacked in emotional knowhow, she made up for in awareness. Much of her job was, after all, information gathering - and so, from a practical standpoint, she was quite adept at picking up on minutiae. She could always determine when someone was lying, or withholding information. She knew which direction someone didn’t want her to look. She knew when someone was intimidated, or frightened.
But that was where the adeptness stopped - because when it came down to it, it was not at all because of some deep understanding of social nuances and telltales. It certainly wasn’t intuition based off empathy.
It was because she was a predator. A Hunter. That which enabled her to best take advantage of her prey came naturally to her. She could detect faltering and weakness as if they were palpable.
But outside of the context in which she would typically take advantage of these things, such keen awareness was all but useless. She had the data, saw the signs - but could hardly comprehend why they were there at all. It was like seeing a street sign in the middle of an untouched forest.
And so she was aware of the change in him - the tightness of his breath, the almost imperceptible squirming that he himself probably hadn’t even noticed. It was fear. Anxiety. But what was she to do with that information? She wasn’t interrogating him. There was no conceivable reason why he would be nervous.
Except that there was.
There was a lot to be nervous about.
And when she thought about it, a very similar anxiety welled in her chest and threatened to overcome her rational mind. If there was enough on their plate to bring her to a state of nearly constant, Barely suppressed anxiety, she couldn’t imagine what it must be like for him - who was scared of his own shadow.
But now what?
What were people supposed to do in these situations? Say something? Say what? ’Stop it.’ No, it didn’t work that way… Maybe she was overthinking things. She was definitely overthinking things - and yet ignoring the blatant, critical point. Something was making him anxious, but it didn’t really matter what. What mattered was that he instinctively moved closer to her as a means of easing the fear.
Something swelled in her chest, and she was vaguely aware of having come to a similar conclusion at least once or twice before. The warm, blossoming sensation was intoxicating - a guilty pleasure - a drug - brought about by the continually re-discovered fact of how great it felt to have someone who legitimately enjoyed her company.
Perversely, it also reminded her for the umteenth time just how little the two actually knew eachother. It felt to Royanna that the two of them had been with each other for a very long time. Weeks, or even months. But it had hardly been two weeks - if that. What was their friendship really built on? It had begun out of necessity. HE had been passed out in the jungle, she had revived him in order that he might help get her own wound under control. After that it had just been chaos. Non-stop alternations between fighting and fleeing. They had barely spoken a word to each other that was more substantial than bare-bones communication as a means of getting them out of the peril of the day.
And yet, so much had happened in that short time. A part of her had died in the bunker and something new and strange had begun to replace it. Even looking back on it, there was a solidified distinction in her mind, and her entire life seemed now to be broken down into two parts - before Toffi, and after Toffi. Even if she couldn’t place the exact nature of the change - even if she was only fleetingly aware of it - it was there.
So then, perhaps some relationships were deeper than words? Perhaps there was something fundamental about their friendship which made it real, and stable?
Or perhaps it was still a friendship of necessity. Perhaps they were drawn to each others’ presence out of no more than the need for protection and support. Maybe once things quieted down, once there was no immediate need…
Of course that was how it was going to go. What was she thinking? Sooner or later he would realize how intolerable she was. He would have no use for her, no reason to put up with her. It was bound to happen. It didn’t matter that he would still need help acclimating to galactic life - he would find someone better suited for the task. Someone who wasn’t utterly inept at eighty percent of the things they did. Someone who wasn’t an absolute failure in every endeavor they had ever undertaken. Someone so completely worthless, useless - someone who wasn’t a total waste of oxygen.
She didn’t deserve this boy’s friendship. Certainly not his affection. SHe didn’t deserve anything. Except maybe a bullet-
…
Perhaps sitting in silence and letting her thoughts wander was not such a good idea. The tightness just below her breastbone that had replaced the initial sensation of joy was almost a physical agony, now. The hollow, desolate black hole that had come with yet again remembering the inevitability of losing the only friend she had ever made.
It didn’t matter now. He was here, and still under the illusion that she was not an inept, intolerable @#$%. Enjoy it while it lasted. Given everything that was going on, she could not afford to think about anything other than the present.
How long had they been sitting there? It was easy to lose track of time in a pilot’s chair, to slip into something approaching sleep or the dreamy place in between.The only sounds the distant heartbeat-thrumming of the stardrive, the soft, unobtrusive hum of the air recycler and the gentle, gentle breeze it created. The comfort of each other's’ presence was more than enough to put one at ease even barring the rest.
The timer in the corner of one monitor assured Roy that it had only been fifteen minutes. That felt about right, she supposed.
When she spoke, her voice sounded alien to her own ears. Not tight or strained - indeed, quite the opposite - though with the vaguest hint of some faraway melancholy that had been buried beneath great layers of persistence.
”If there’s anything you want to know-...” She winced at how loud her voice felt to her own ears, though the words were very quiet. –I mean, if you have questions about anything - anything you want to talk about, that’s fine.” Awkward. As usual, terribly, humiliatingly awkward. And, following the usual pattern, only getting worse as she tried to fix it. ”I Don't mind, I mean. You can ask. Or talk. About - w-we can talk.” The slight stuttering as the strain and urgency of trying, and failing to hold together the crumbling mess of words crept into her voice. Then, having been staring hard out the front window the whole time, she locked her jaw, pressed lips together and resolved in total humiliation to shut up before she made it even worse.
Royanna Kallenger could give orders like a pro. Make demands with expert authority. Command, and impose her will upon others as naturally as breathing. She could call someone out, goad them, tell them everything they were doing wrong, point out every flaw in their being and shove it in their face.
But she couldn’t just talk.
It made her want to punch something. Maybe her own stupid reflection in the front window-
And she finally realized that, at some point over the past twenty minutes, she had unconsciously drawn him in with the arm around his shoulders enough that his head was resting comfortably on her shoulder.
She resisted the reflexive urge to pull away. She wanted to apologize - but she also didn’t want him to come to the realization of it, as if he might have remained unaware of his own head’s location until she moved. So she didn’t move.
Caught again between the discomfort and inappropriateness of it, and the persistent, guilty comfort it brought. Between admitting it was wrong, and admitting it was okay. Either way, it seemed it would have to be an admission.
And she continued to resist the impulse to pull away and stammer out an apology.
If she stared a little more intently at the stars and didn’t look at him at all, she could will away resulting flush of warmth and redness on her face.
Every @#$%ing time.
The Koolest Boat U Know
It was over almost as soon as it had begun.
The chaos within the ship’s systems made it impossible to garner any useful information from the monitors - but that didn’t stop Dallen from trying her best. She knew as well as any of them did that the only reason for a hacking-job like this was to provide a distraction - and there were only two reasons for providing a distraction: Either they were about to be struck with a well-placed torpedo strike, or they were going to be boarded.
Or, possibly, both.
She needed to act now, while she still had the chance - before either the hull cracked like an egg, or control became impossible. With the systems oing as wild as they were, there was no hope of detecting an incoming attack or boarding vessel - and so, in a desperate attempt to do something, Dal proceeded with yawing the ship hard to starboard in the hope of throwing off the attack. THe floor shifted beneath them unexpectedly. In the belly of the ship, a great groaning could be distinguished as the improperly-secured antique tank - stupid waste of space, Dallen thought - went grinding out of place.
The plan - insofar as it was a plan - had been to go about wildly flinging the ship in all directions until some kind of bearings could be found.
Unfortunately, she had barely made that single maneuver before the power cut out completely.
She had been expecting that - but not so soon. It was the obvious thing to do - simply force-shutdown the systems that might otherwise be hijacked and used to kill them. She should have expected it, given how much of a natural Sands was at that sort of thing.
But while it was the closest thing to the ’right’ thing to do, it was far from ideal. The Koolest was not a warship - it was a yacht. Armed only with small point-defence guns that would be good for little more than fending off pirates long enough for help to arrive. Establishing emergency controls in a warship would be a matter of seconds - but in a boat like this heap, not so much.
It could be done, but not in battle. Not under siege.
All there was left to do now was hope they would be boarded - at least then they would be able to fight back.
The sudden silence was more than jarring - going from seizure-inducing strobes, sparks flying and alarms screaming to total noiselessness and but a dim, red glow had a tendency for that sort of thing.
The good thing was that in a boat as small and flimsy as theirs, it would be easy to tell from where the attackers would be penetrating their hull. They wouldn’t go in the front door - nobody did that, it would be suicide - instead, as was standard practice, they would blast through the hull with some kind of boarding pod or tube, and swarm the decks from there. They would be able to hear exactly where the breach was going to be, and gather there themselves.
Except that, after long moments of sitting stark-still, straining their ears and slowly hefting their weapons - nothing.
Until, after decades, it seemed, a voice. Tsuan.
The emergency comms system in the Koolest was hardly unique. Simple and crude, it did not depend on the same fairly complex circuits as the standard comms. Really it was little more than two tin cans attached with string. The audio quality was atrocious, but obviously that did not matter.
What did matter was that she could understand every word, but not parce them. She could not believe what she was hearing.
It wasn’t even the part about “Rin’s friend” having somehow infiltrated the ship. In this strange, wide galaxy, essentially anything was possible, and feats of technology were hardy something for someone like her and the crew to be shocked over these days. The problem was what Tsuan was actually saying.
She welled with appalled fury.
Whoever had been coming for Rin didn’t want Tsuan. They would have no reason at all to keep him alive. They might even ave just taken Rin and left - so why did he have to be such an absolute idiot about it! She liked Rin too, but her team was her team. Tsuan came first, when it came down to it. For him to do this was unforgivable - and she even realized that, in the heat of the moment, she resented Rin almost to the extent of hatred. An irrational feeling, she would decide later - it wasn’t as if Rin had done it on purpose. It wasn’t his fault that Tsuan had taken such a liking to him.
But nothing mattered in that one, dreadful moment except the simple fact that she was going to lose her trusted comrade over a ridiculous, insane conflict that none of them ever should have had any reason to be involved in.
Though, if it hadn’t been for ridiculous conflict, the team never would have been brought together in the first place.
Even the way he had spoken brought dread and foreboding beyond measure into Dal’s chest. ’Good working with you’ - as if he knew on some level that he wasn’t coming back.
”E’tzu Tsuan you @#$%ing idiot.” She murmured, voice cracking almost inaudibly.
The fact that no more was heard from the emergency speaker meant that whoever had infiltrated their ship was gone, RIn with them, and Tsuan too - if they hadn’t decided to just kill him and leave him and disregard his words. The fact that they weren’t all dead meant that the ship which had launched the attack had taken their prize and left them on the float.
It became suddenly apparent that she would have to come to terms with Tsuan’s inevitable death. Desolation and denial competed for domination in her chest - but she suppressed it for the moment, stood, and rushed out into the hallway to find Ty.
It didn’t take long - he was just across the common room, having been on his way back in her direction before halting at the sight of her. He looked as grim as she felt - but more collected, as was Ty’s way.
”Where’s Jackson?” He asked, standing in the hallway that lead to the quarters. ”Door’s stuck shut.” The rest of what he might have said - ”Sands is working on it but it’ll take time. Jackson might be able to pry them open.” did not need to be said - such was the synchronicity of a team that had been together as long as they. Without a word, Dallen made for the only direction they could have gone, and trotted about the ship in search.
Not on the upper deck, obviously. Not midboat either. So she didn’t bother calling out to him until she was halfway down the ramp to the cargo bay, just out of sight.
”Hey, Big Guy! Down here? Need y’elp topdeck. Stuck door.”
Qetan Ship?
The silence in the gloomy little cell would have been oppressive, if anyone had been conscious to notice it.
It was silent for a long time.
Or, maybe not.
Nobody inside the cell would have any reason to know how long had passed, it seemed.
And then, the silence was broken. It started as a low moan, and morphed into some drawn-out foreign expletive as it grew louder and reached a crescendo, before dropping off suddenly.
There was no sound again for a few moments. When the words came, they were groggy and similarly drawn-out, also starting low and increasing in volume.
”Duuuuuuuuuude. Screw you and your magic lightning stick. @#$% hurts.”He groaned, to nobody.
Tsuan sat up at last, head swimming. He rubbed at his face, doubling over a little, then shifting to sit slumped with hands dropped like tiny sacks of flour into his lap.
”Feel like I Just got face@#$%ed by a storm golem.” he grumbled, blinking and letting his eyes adjust to the gloom. Then, once he was relatively certain as to the dimensions of the room, he made to stand - but froze midway with a hard breath caught at the back of his throat. Letting himself flop back to a sitting position, he made a conscious effort to relax his muscles.
Clearly they had wanted him out of commission for a hefty chunk of time. That, or their weird intergalactic tazers were excessively effective on hapless humans.
Five minutes passed, and Tsuan tried again - moving much more slowly - and found that once he had gotten to his feet, much of the muscle tension mercifully vanished. He’d still be sore for a while yet - but functional, and that was what mattered.
He rolled his neck, stretched his arms, and didn’t bother to see if they’d taken his weapon. That was too obvious. Now, at last, it was time to really explore his new environment.
It took approximately three seconds for him to map out and conquer the entire domain. A tragically brief expedition, but at least - to his surprise - there was something interesting in there with him. In fact, if he hadn’t known any better, he would have assumed it was…
Stepping closer, Tsuan leaned in to peer through the little window - and his assumption was proven shockingly correct - or, at least, half of it. He had assumed it was an empty stasis pod. It was not.
Unless Rin had a twin brother who also happened to be in custody, the occupant was known - though the change in color of the markings on his face made Tsuan uneasy. He’d thought they were simple tattoos - but now it was clear that there was more to it than that - and any sort of change to Rin’s person in the present scenario was very unlikely to be positive.
He stare, narrow-eyed, into the pod for a long while, frowning. When he looked away, it was to turn his attention to the control pad mounted on the side. He examined it thoughtfully, leaning in close to make out details in the less-than-stellar light.
The language universally known as ’Standard’ was perhaps one of the most fascinating linguistic phenomena in the galaxy. Linguists and statisticians generally agreed that it was spoken by at least three quarters of the entire galaxy. As it happened, most sentient life forms throughout the stars communicated vocally. It also happened that being able to talk coherently with other species and cultures was incredibly handy in maintaining a relatively stable galactic equilibrium.
Standard had spread so rapidly and widely that - like most things involving modern historians - the origin point was impossible to determine. Some argued that multiple variants of the language had developed at different times and in different places - and that the basic structure of Standard was so efficient that it was the natural pinnacle of linguistic development. Regardless, it remained that no amount of war or genocide, cultural extermination or crumbling civilizations had ever been able to so much as falter the language’s galactic presence.
Tsuan had been wondering about it almost since he had first met Rin, back on the Skadi. The Nyran spoke perfect Standard - yet he was not only from another galaxy, but apparently another universe entirely. It meant that Standard had become the primary language of somewhere utterly foreign - that would give scholars something to think about.
But, similarly to his own galaxy, other languages had persisted. In regards to maintaining cultural diversity across vast populations, this was a good thing. In regards to operating an alien stasis pod, it was not.
It would have made the endeavor of safely operating the machine hopeless, except that Nyrans - or, whatever these new guys were called - had five fingers on each hand. That they were physically almost identical to humans, and that their minds worked so that buttons were a good means of operating a machine, it could be assumed that the general layout of the control pad would give some hint as to function.
Buttons that did important things would be bigger, or in brighter colors. Buttons that cycled, or adjusted variables along a straight line would be in pairs. Buttons arrayed in straight lines would likely be toggles.
Releasing Rin seemed to be the obvious course of action. If the controls were locked, he would do no harm. If they weren’t, their captors had taken into account the possibility and not allowed any harm to come to their prize.
In the old movies and books, stasis pod malfunctions always meant tragic death. This was a stupid oversight, and regarded in the contemporary galaxy as an unforgivable trope, akin to vampires going ”Bleh!” How could a machine that constantly monitored vital signs be stupid enough to not detect when the occupant was dying? How could a machine designed to keep an occupant alive lack emergency shutdown protocols for in the event of critical failure?
The idea was preposterous. If the machine discovered a failure that it could not correct, it would shut down and open. Being half-dead was bad enough without also being locked in a death-tube.
Unless, of course, their captors were evil and sadistic, and got off on seeing someone unwittingly kill their friend.
In which case, they would both be dead anyway...
Abruptly, Tsuan realized that he was pressing a large, important looking button toward one side of the whole. He looked at his index finger as if it had betrayed him - then heaved a sigh, cursed under his breath, and proceeded to recklessly press randomly chosen buttons in very rapid succession, ideally giving the machine no less than twenty four conflicting orders. Occasionally he pressed the breadth of his hand across as many buttons as he could reach, and dragged his palm about the board.
Because if the first button didn’t work…
Maybe all the other buttons together would do the trick.
That was sound logic.
And if he didn’t look so very calm, it might have been mistaken for apathetic ragequitting.
Royanna wouldn’t have been conscious of Christofer’s gradually moving closer if it hadn’t been for the sudden stiffness and the subtle shifting in the way he breathed.
What the Agent lacked in emotional knowhow, she made up for in awareness. Much of her job was, after all, information gathering - and so, from a practical standpoint, she was quite adept at picking up on minutiae. She could always determine when someone was lying, or withholding information. She knew which direction someone didn’t want her to look. She knew when someone was intimidated, or frightened.
But that was where the adeptness stopped - because when it came down to it, it was not at all because of some deep understanding of social nuances and telltales. It certainly wasn’t intuition based off empathy.
It was because she was a predator. A Hunter. That which enabled her to best take advantage of her prey came naturally to her. She could detect faltering and weakness as if they were palpable.
But outside of the context in which she would typically take advantage of these things, such keen awareness was all but useless. She had the data, saw the signs - but could hardly comprehend why they were there at all. It was like seeing a street sign in the middle of an untouched forest.
And so she was aware of the change in him - the tightness of his breath, the almost imperceptible squirming that he himself probably hadn’t even noticed. It was fear. Anxiety. But what was she to do with that information? She wasn’t interrogating him. There was no conceivable reason why he would be nervous.
Except that there was.
There was a lot to be nervous about.
And when she thought about it, a very similar anxiety welled in her chest and threatened to overcome her rational mind. If there was enough on their plate to bring her to a state of nearly constant, Barely suppressed anxiety, she couldn’t imagine what it must be like for him - who was scared of his own shadow.
But now what?
What were people supposed to do in these situations? Say something? Say what? ’Stop it.’ No, it didn’t work that way… Maybe she was overthinking things. She was definitely overthinking things - and yet ignoring the blatant, critical point. Something was making him anxious, but it didn’t really matter what. What mattered was that he instinctively moved closer to her as a means of easing the fear.
Something swelled in her chest, and she was vaguely aware of having come to a similar conclusion at least once or twice before. The warm, blossoming sensation was intoxicating - a guilty pleasure - a drug - brought about by the continually re-discovered fact of how great it felt to have someone who legitimately enjoyed her company.
Perversely, it also reminded her for the umteenth time just how little the two actually knew eachother. It felt to Royanna that the two of them had been with each other for a very long time. Weeks, or even months. But it had hardly been two weeks - if that. What was their friendship really built on? It had begun out of necessity. HE had been passed out in the jungle, she had revived him in order that he might help get her own wound under control. After that it had just been chaos. Non-stop alternations between fighting and fleeing. They had barely spoken a word to each other that was more substantial than bare-bones communication as a means of getting them out of the peril of the day.
And yet, so much had happened in that short time. A part of her had died in the bunker and something new and strange had begun to replace it. Even looking back on it, there was a solidified distinction in her mind, and her entire life seemed now to be broken down into two parts - before Toffi, and after Toffi. Even if she couldn’t place the exact nature of the change - even if she was only fleetingly aware of it - it was there.
So then, perhaps some relationships were deeper than words? Perhaps there was something fundamental about their friendship which made it real, and stable?
Or perhaps it was still a friendship of necessity. Perhaps they were drawn to each others’ presence out of no more than the need for protection and support. Maybe once things quieted down, once there was no immediate need…
Of course that was how it was going to go. What was she thinking? Sooner or later he would realize how intolerable she was. He would have no use for her, no reason to put up with her. It was bound to happen. It didn’t matter that he would still need help acclimating to galactic life - he would find someone better suited for the task. Someone who wasn’t utterly inept at eighty percent of the things they did. Someone who wasn’t an absolute failure in every endeavor they had ever undertaken. Someone so completely worthless, useless - someone who wasn’t a total waste of oxygen.
She didn’t deserve this boy’s friendship. Certainly not his affection. SHe didn’t deserve anything. Except maybe a bullet-
…
Perhaps sitting in silence and letting her thoughts wander was not such a good idea. The tightness just below her breastbone that had replaced the initial sensation of joy was almost a physical agony, now. The hollow, desolate black hole that had come with yet again remembering the inevitability of losing the only friend she had ever made.
It didn’t matter now. He was here, and still under the illusion that she was not an inept, intolerable @#$%. Enjoy it while it lasted. Given everything that was going on, she could not afford to think about anything other than the present.
How long had they been sitting there? It was easy to lose track of time in a pilot’s chair, to slip into something approaching sleep or the dreamy place in between.The only sounds the distant heartbeat-thrumming of the stardrive, the soft, unobtrusive hum of the air recycler and the gentle, gentle breeze it created. The comfort of each other's’ presence was more than enough to put one at ease even barring the rest.
The timer in the corner of one monitor assured Roy that it had only been fifteen minutes. That felt about right, she supposed.
When she spoke, her voice sounded alien to her own ears. Not tight or strained - indeed, quite the opposite - though with the vaguest hint of some faraway melancholy that had been buried beneath great layers of persistence.
”If there’s anything you want to know-...” She winced at how loud her voice felt to her own ears, though the words were very quiet. –I mean, if you have questions about anything - anything you want to talk about, that’s fine.” Awkward. As usual, terribly, humiliatingly awkward. And, following the usual pattern, only getting worse as she tried to fix it. ”I Don't mind, I mean. You can ask. Or talk. About - w-we can talk.” The slight stuttering as the strain and urgency of trying, and failing to hold together the crumbling mess of words crept into her voice. Then, having been staring hard out the front window the whole time, she locked her jaw, pressed lips together and resolved in total humiliation to shut up before she made it even worse.
Royanna Kallenger could give orders like a pro. Make demands with expert authority. Command, and impose her will upon others as naturally as breathing. She could call someone out, goad them, tell them everything they were doing wrong, point out every flaw in their being and shove it in their face.
But she couldn’t just talk.
It made her want to punch something. Maybe her own stupid reflection in the front window-
And she finally realized that, at some point over the past twenty minutes, she had unconsciously drawn him in with the arm around his shoulders enough that his head was resting comfortably on her shoulder.
She resisted the reflexive urge to pull away. She wanted to apologize - but she also didn’t want him to come to the realization of it, as if he might have remained unaware of his own head’s location until she moved. So she didn’t move.
Caught again between the discomfort and inappropriateness of it, and the persistent, guilty comfort it brought. Between admitting it was wrong, and admitting it was okay. Either way, it seemed it would have to be an admission.
And she continued to resist the impulse to pull away and stammer out an apology.
If she stared a little more intently at the stars and didn’t look at him at all, she could will away resulting flush of warmth and redness on her face.
Every @#$%ing time.
The Koolest Boat U Know
It was over almost as soon as it had begun.
The chaos within the ship’s systems made it impossible to garner any useful information from the monitors - but that didn’t stop Dallen from trying her best. She knew as well as any of them did that the only reason for a hacking-job like this was to provide a distraction - and there were only two reasons for providing a distraction: Either they were about to be struck with a well-placed torpedo strike, or they were going to be boarded.
Or, possibly, both.
She needed to act now, while she still had the chance - before either the hull cracked like an egg, or control became impossible. With the systems oing as wild as they were, there was no hope of detecting an incoming attack or boarding vessel - and so, in a desperate attempt to do something, Dal proceeded with yawing the ship hard to starboard in the hope of throwing off the attack. THe floor shifted beneath them unexpectedly. In the belly of the ship, a great groaning could be distinguished as the improperly-secured antique tank - stupid waste of space, Dallen thought - went grinding out of place.
The plan - insofar as it was a plan - had been to go about wildly flinging the ship in all directions until some kind of bearings could be found.
Unfortunately, she had barely made that single maneuver before the power cut out completely.
She had been expecting that - but not so soon. It was the obvious thing to do - simply force-shutdown the systems that might otherwise be hijacked and used to kill them. She should have expected it, given how much of a natural Sands was at that sort of thing.
But while it was the closest thing to the ’right’ thing to do, it was far from ideal. The Koolest was not a warship - it was a yacht. Armed only with small point-defence guns that would be good for little more than fending off pirates long enough for help to arrive. Establishing emergency controls in a warship would be a matter of seconds - but in a boat like this heap, not so much.
It could be done, but not in battle. Not under siege.
All there was left to do now was hope they would be boarded - at least then they would be able to fight back.
The sudden silence was more than jarring - going from seizure-inducing strobes, sparks flying and alarms screaming to total noiselessness and but a dim, red glow had a tendency for that sort of thing.
The good thing was that in a boat as small and flimsy as theirs, it would be easy to tell from where the attackers would be penetrating their hull. They wouldn’t go in the front door - nobody did that, it would be suicide - instead, as was standard practice, they would blast through the hull with some kind of boarding pod or tube, and swarm the decks from there. They would be able to hear exactly where the breach was going to be, and gather there themselves.
Except that, after long moments of sitting stark-still, straining their ears and slowly hefting their weapons - nothing.
Until, after decades, it seemed, a voice. Tsuan.
The emergency comms system in the Koolest was hardly unique. Simple and crude, it did not depend on the same fairly complex circuits as the standard comms. Really it was little more than two tin cans attached with string. The audio quality was atrocious, but obviously that did not matter.
What did matter was that she could understand every word, but not parce them. She could not believe what she was hearing.
It wasn’t even the part about “Rin’s friend” having somehow infiltrated the ship. In this strange, wide galaxy, essentially anything was possible, and feats of technology were hardy something for someone like her and the crew to be shocked over these days. The problem was what Tsuan was actually saying.
She welled with appalled fury.
Whoever had been coming for Rin didn’t want Tsuan. They would have no reason at all to keep him alive. They might even ave just taken Rin and left - so why did he have to be such an absolute idiot about it! She liked Rin too, but her team was her team. Tsuan came first, when it came down to it. For him to do this was unforgivable - and she even realized that, in the heat of the moment, she resented Rin almost to the extent of hatred. An irrational feeling, she would decide later - it wasn’t as if Rin had done it on purpose. It wasn’t his fault that Tsuan had taken such a liking to him.
But nothing mattered in that one, dreadful moment except the simple fact that she was going to lose her trusted comrade over a ridiculous, insane conflict that none of them ever should have had any reason to be involved in.
Though, if it hadn’t been for ridiculous conflict, the team never would have been brought together in the first place.
Even the way he had spoken brought dread and foreboding beyond measure into Dal’s chest. ’Good working with you’ - as if he knew on some level that he wasn’t coming back.
”E’tzu Tsuan you @#$%ing idiot.” She murmured, voice cracking almost inaudibly.
The fact that no more was heard from the emergency speaker meant that whoever had infiltrated their ship was gone, RIn with them, and Tsuan too - if they hadn’t decided to just kill him and leave him and disregard his words. The fact that they weren’t all dead meant that the ship which had launched the attack had taken their prize and left them on the float.
It became suddenly apparent that she would have to come to terms with Tsuan’s inevitable death. Desolation and denial competed for domination in her chest - but she suppressed it for the moment, stood, and rushed out into the hallway to find Ty.
It didn’t take long - he was just across the common room, having been on his way back in her direction before halting at the sight of her. He looked as grim as she felt - but more collected, as was Ty’s way.
”Where’s Jackson?” He asked, standing in the hallway that lead to the quarters. ”Door’s stuck shut.” The rest of what he might have said - ”Sands is working on it but it’ll take time. Jackson might be able to pry them open.” did not need to be said - such was the synchronicity of a team that had been together as long as they. Without a word, Dallen made for the only direction they could have gone, and trotted about the ship in search.
Not on the upper deck, obviously. Not midboat either. So she didn’t bother calling out to him until she was halfway down the ramp to the cargo bay, just out of sight.
”Hey, Big Guy! Down here? Need y’elp topdeck. Stuck door.”
Qetan Ship?
The silence in the gloomy little cell would have been oppressive, if anyone had been conscious to notice it.
It was silent for a long time.
Or, maybe not.
Nobody inside the cell would have any reason to know how long had passed, it seemed.
And then, the silence was broken. It started as a low moan, and morphed into some drawn-out foreign expletive as it grew louder and reached a crescendo, before dropping off suddenly.
There was no sound again for a few moments. When the words came, they were groggy and similarly drawn-out, also starting low and increasing in volume.
”Duuuuuuuuuude. Screw you and your magic lightning stick. @#$% hurts.”He groaned, to nobody.
Tsuan sat up at last, head swimming. He rubbed at his face, doubling over a little, then shifting to sit slumped with hands dropped like tiny sacks of flour into his lap.
”Feel like I Just got face@#$%ed by a storm golem.” he grumbled, blinking and letting his eyes adjust to the gloom. Then, once he was relatively certain as to the dimensions of the room, he made to stand - but froze midway with a hard breath caught at the back of his throat. Letting himself flop back to a sitting position, he made a conscious effort to relax his muscles.
Clearly they had wanted him out of commission for a hefty chunk of time. That, or their weird intergalactic tazers were excessively effective on hapless humans.
Five minutes passed, and Tsuan tried again - moving much more slowly - and found that once he had gotten to his feet, much of the muscle tension mercifully vanished. He’d still be sore for a while yet - but functional, and that was what mattered.
He rolled his neck, stretched his arms, and didn’t bother to see if they’d taken his weapon. That was too obvious. Now, at last, it was time to really explore his new environment.
It took approximately three seconds for him to map out and conquer the entire domain. A tragically brief expedition, but at least - to his surprise - there was something interesting in there with him. In fact, if he hadn’t known any better, he would have assumed it was…
Stepping closer, Tsuan leaned in to peer through the little window - and his assumption was proven shockingly correct - or, at least, half of it. He had assumed it was an empty stasis pod. It was not.
Unless Rin had a twin brother who also happened to be in custody, the occupant was known - though the change in color of the markings on his face made Tsuan uneasy. He’d thought they were simple tattoos - but now it was clear that there was more to it than that - and any sort of change to Rin’s person in the present scenario was very unlikely to be positive.
He stare, narrow-eyed, into the pod for a long while, frowning. When he looked away, it was to turn his attention to the control pad mounted on the side. He examined it thoughtfully, leaning in close to make out details in the less-than-stellar light.
The language universally known as ’Standard’ was perhaps one of the most fascinating linguistic phenomena in the galaxy. Linguists and statisticians generally agreed that it was spoken by at least three quarters of the entire galaxy. As it happened, most sentient life forms throughout the stars communicated vocally. It also happened that being able to talk coherently with other species and cultures was incredibly handy in maintaining a relatively stable galactic equilibrium.
Standard had spread so rapidly and widely that - like most things involving modern historians - the origin point was impossible to determine. Some argued that multiple variants of the language had developed at different times and in different places - and that the basic structure of Standard was so efficient that it was the natural pinnacle of linguistic development. Regardless, it remained that no amount of war or genocide, cultural extermination or crumbling civilizations had ever been able to so much as falter the language’s galactic presence.
Tsuan had been wondering about it almost since he had first met Rin, back on the Skadi. The Nyran spoke perfect Standard - yet he was not only from another galaxy, but apparently another universe entirely. It meant that Standard had become the primary language of somewhere utterly foreign - that would give scholars something to think about.
But, similarly to his own galaxy, other languages had persisted. In regards to maintaining cultural diversity across vast populations, this was a good thing. In regards to operating an alien stasis pod, it was not.
It would have made the endeavor of safely operating the machine hopeless, except that Nyrans - or, whatever these new guys were called - had five fingers on each hand. That they were physically almost identical to humans, and that their minds worked so that buttons were a good means of operating a machine, it could be assumed that the general layout of the control pad would give some hint as to function.
Buttons that did important things would be bigger, or in brighter colors. Buttons that cycled, or adjusted variables along a straight line would be in pairs. Buttons arrayed in straight lines would likely be toggles.
Releasing Rin seemed to be the obvious course of action. If the controls were locked, he would do no harm. If they weren’t, their captors had taken into account the possibility and not allowed any harm to come to their prize.
In the old movies and books, stasis pod malfunctions always meant tragic death. This was a stupid oversight, and regarded in the contemporary galaxy as an unforgivable trope, akin to vampires going ”Bleh!” How could a machine that constantly monitored vital signs be stupid enough to not detect when the occupant was dying? How could a machine designed to keep an occupant alive lack emergency shutdown protocols for in the event of critical failure?
The idea was preposterous. If the machine discovered a failure that it could not correct, it would shut down and open. Being half-dead was bad enough without also being locked in a death-tube.
Unless, of course, their captors were evil and sadistic, and got off on seeing someone unwittingly kill their friend.
In which case, they would both be dead anyway...
Abruptly, Tsuan realized that he was pressing a large, important looking button toward one side of the whole. He looked at his index finger as if it had betrayed him - then heaved a sigh, cursed under his breath, and proceeded to recklessly press randomly chosen buttons in very rapid succession, ideally giving the machine no less than twenty four conflicting orders. Occasionally he pressed the breadth of his hand across as many buttons as he could reach, and dragged his palm about the board.
Because if the first button didn’t work…
Maybe all the other buttons together would do the trick.
That was sound logic.
And if he didn’t look so very calm, it might have been mistaken for apathetic ragequitting.
The last thing Rai remembered was being electrocuted in the face.
Frankly, they didn't deserve it. Honestly, they didn't. In fact, they were eletrocuted in the middle of a very important Mission. This Mission was so important, in fact, that in order to do this Mission they were required to travel beyond their home planet and into the dangerous unknown abyss of space.
And, of course, stop dangerous criminals from succeeding on their mission.
They considered it a noble cause to be electrocuted for, they supposed, but... honestly. They thought that reaction might have been a bit too much.
They weren't about to assassinate them, they were just... rewiring a few things on their ship. A little malfunction here and there, delving into the information banks in order to find out their next destination... that sort of thing.
Except they got caught. And got electrocuted in the face.
Damn that Qetan man. Also, damn his handsome features. Distracting them...
They were sure that they were dead.
So imagine their surprise when they suddenly found themselves falling forwards.
They shouldn't be able to feel anything if their dead.
They barely managed to catch themself on their arms, groaning as a dull pain shot up their limbs. They laid there for a moment, willing the sharp stabs of discomfort to settle into numbness... and opened their eyes.
The first thing they saw was a humanoid creature, dark skinned and dark haired, dressed in light colored shirt and pants.
They brushed aside stray black hairs out of their face, revealing what appeared to be a tribal tattoo in the vague shape of a bird-like creature on the left side of their face. Rolling themself on their back, they sluggishly checked over themself. They still had on their clothes, black and purple robes designed around the Nyran style. Their braid was a little messy, but they could fix that. However, their staff was gone, and Shen... Shen was silent on their end of the bond.
They craned their neck up towards their new fellow prisoner, more tattoos peeking out from underneath their clothing.
"... So I'm not dead," they said.
Frankly, they didn't deserve it. Honestly, they didn't. In fact, they were eletrocuted in the middle of a very important Mission. This Mission was so important, in fact, that in order to do this Mission they were required to travel beyond their home planet and into the dangerous unknown abyss of space.
And, of course, stop dangerous criminals from succeeding on their mission.
They considered it a noble cause to be electrocuted for, they supposed, but... honestly. They thought that reaction might have been a bit too much.
They weren't about to assassinate them, they were just... rewiring a few things on their ship. A little malfunction here and there, delving into the information banks in order to find out their next destination... that sort of thing.
Except they got caught. And got electrocuted in the face.
Damn that Qetan man. Also, damn his handsome features. Distracting them...
They were sure that they were dead.
So imagine their surprise when they suddenly found themselves falling forwards.
They shouldn't be able to feel anything if their dead.
They barely managed to catch themself on their arms, groaning as a dull pain shot up their limbs. They laid there for a moment, willing the sharp stabs of discomfort to settle into numbness... and opened their eyes.
The first thing they saw was a humanoid creature, dark skinned and dark haired, dressed in light colored shirt and pants.
They brushed aside stray black hairs out of their face, revealing what appeared to be a tribal tattoo in the vague shape of a bird-like creature on the left side of their face. Rolling themself on their back, they sluggishly checked over themself. They still had on their clothes, black and purple robes designed around the Nyran style. Their braid was a little messy, but they could fix that. However, their staff was gone, and Shen... Shen was silent on their end of the bond.
They craned their neck up towards their new fellow prisoner, more tattoos peeking out from underneath their clothing.
"... So I'm not dead," they said.
Tsuan had been so focused on chaotically mashing buttons – maybe there was no need to be so focused on so mindless a task, but his head was still groggy from that alien tazer – that he didn’t hear the pod’s door swing open when, after some indeterminate period of time, the machine shut down. He had expected a hydraulic ’hisss’ or something – but instead, he only knew that the ‘plan’ had worked when something moved in the corner of his eye.
With a start, he cursed urgently under his breath and fumbled in the now-freed Rin’s general direction – much too late. The Nyran had already fallen face-first on the floor – or, would have, if not for his apparently fantastic alien reflexes.
Normally, Tsuan would have already been moving to help his friend back to his feet – but something had stopped him halfway. He could have sworn that he had glimpsed green markings beneath the robes. In the back of his mind, something began to click into place. Abstractly, he began to come to a conclusion he should have reached some time prior.
While he stood there trying to think, Rin went ahead and rolled himself over, to flop onto his back and look up. Rin looked up at Tsuan. Tsuan looked down at Rin.
Except that was not Rin.
The man’s narrow eyes widened perceptibly, simultaneously with high-raised brows and dark face flushing. Somehow, it had not occurred to him that there was any possibility of the person in the pod being anyone else. Maybe it had been the low light, or the small window, or the general grogginess that still pulled at the back of his head – it seemed ridiculous that he had mistaken this person for Rin.
Still trying to process it all, and come to terms with his own horrendous blunder, Tsuan was helpless but to stare down at the person who was definitely not Rin for what seemed like a very long moment, with what seemed like a very shocked expression.
Then the Nyran spoke – in a voice that was not Rin’s, go figure – and it was the span of a heartbeat before Tsuan replied automatically, with the only thing he could think of.
”Uh…nope.” He agreed, voice agreeable, but somewhat absent.
Then, the thunderstruck expression gave way to a wide, guilty grin. ”You are…not who I thought you were.” He said, finally extending a hand, offering to help Not-Rin up. As he did so, something approaching a very mild alarm appeared on his face, and he frowned. ”@#$%, does that make me racist? Great Space I think I might be racist.” He muttered to himself, with a concern that could have just as easily been genuine, or in jest.
Once both were standing, Tsuan gave a huff – still grinning rather like a fool, in the sort of way that a fool grinned when acknowledging he was a fool – and just barely managed to stop himself from saying something abhorrently stupid such as ’Hey do you know where Rin is?’
Instead, he gave one pointed little wave – a single cocking of one splayed palm – and said ”Hi. I’m Tsuan.” Shoving hands into pockets – for he thought he could remember Rin not knowing what ‘handshakes’ were when they’d met – he added ”So, I guess the guys with the red…eye thingies aren’t your friends, either?” A vague gesture toward his own cheekbones, just in case ’eye thingies’ proved inadequate description.
With a start, he cursed urgently under his breath and fumbled in the now-freed Rin’s general direction – much too late. The Nyran had already fallen face-first on the floor – or, would have, if not for his apparently fantastic alien reflexes.
Normally, Tsuan would have already been moving to help his friend back to his feet – but something had stopped him halfway. He could have sworn that he had glimpsed green markings beneath the robes. In the back of his mind, something began to click into place. Abstractly, he began to come to a conclusion he should have reached some time prior.
While he stood there trying to think, Rin went ahead and rolled himself over, to flop onto his back and look up. Rin looked up at Tsuan. Tsuan looked down at Rin.
Except that was not Rin.
The man’s narrow eyes widened perceptibly, simultaneously with high-raised brows and dark face flushing. Somehow, it had not occurred to him that there was any possibility of the person in the pod being anyone else. Maybe it had been the low light, or the small window, or the general grogginess that still pulled at the back of his head – it seemed ridiculous that he had mistaken this person for Rin.
Still trying to process it all, and come to terms with his own horrendous blunder, Tsuan was helpless but to stare down at the person who was definitely not Rin for what seemed like a very long moment, with what seemed like a very shocked expression.
Then the Nyran spoke – in a voice that was not Rin’s, go figure – and it was the span of a heartbeat before Tsuan replied automatically, with the only thing he could think of.
”Uh…nope.” He agreed, voice agreeable, but somewhat absent.
Then, the thunderstruck expression gave way to a wide, guilty grin. ”You are…not who I thought you were.” He said, finally extending a hand, offering to help Not-Rin up. As he did so, something approaching a very mild alarm appeared on his face, and he frowned. ”@#$%, does that make me racist? Great Space I think I might be racist.” He muttered to himself, with a concern that could have just as easily been genuine, or in jest.
Once both were standing, Tsuan gave a huff – still grinning rather like a fool, in the sort of way that a fool grinned when acknowledging he was a fool – and just barely managed to stop himself from saying something abhorrently stupid such as ’Hey do you know where Rin is?’
Instead, he gave one pointed little wave – a single cocking of one splayed palm – and said ”Hi. I’m Tsuan.” Shoving hands into pockets – for he thought he could remember Rin not knowing what ‘handshakes’ were when they’d met – he added ”So, I guess the guys with the red…eye thingies aren’t your friends, either?” A vague gesture toward his own cheekbones, just in case ’eye thingies’ proved inadequate description.
Rai gratefully took the offered hand, slightly amused by the man's concern. They knew that distinguishing individuals in another species could be somewhat daunting, and if the way they were captured was any indication, the man was probably still a little groggy from any hits he may have taken.
The man was definitely humanoid in appearance- two eyes, two ears, four limbs, ten fingers. Rai bowed slightly in return as the man- Tsuan- introduced himself.
"I am Zang Rai. Rai would be fine. And... no... those people are definitely not my friends." They frowned, looking around at the little cell that now housed both awake and aware prisoners.
Speaking of...
"So... why are you here?" They tilted their head, looking over Tsuan. "No disrespect or rudeness intended, but... these Qetan seekers don't usually look for someone with your appearance. In fact, they are looking for someone quite shorter, and paler, and uh... with the cheek markings. It's a good thing he's hard to catch. I've been trying to keep him off their radar, but then I got caught and for some reason got put in the stasis pod?"
They looked at the stasis pod, furrowed their eyebrows a bit more, then pursed their lips. "Yeah, I bet that woman did something nasty to me while I was asleep. Speaking of which, I have no idea how long I've been in there. I really should figure that out." Lost in thought, they started to pace around the cell, muttering to themself. "I should try to contact Shen too. That bird, I hope they're alright..."
Shen? Shen? Are you alright?
No response.
They slumped slightly, rubbing their head. "They're not dead, at least," they mumbled. "Otherwise I would be, too."
The man was definitely humanoid in appearance- two eyes, two ears, four limbs, ten fingers. Rai bowed slightly in return as the man- Tsuan- introduced himself.
"I am Zang Rai. Rai would be fine. And... no... those people are definitely not my friends." They frowned, looking around at the little cell that now housed both awake and aware prisoners.
Speaking of...
"So... why are you here?" They tilted their head, looking over Tsuan. "No disrespect or rudeness intended, but... these Qetan seekers don't usually look for someone with your appearance. In fact, they are looking for someone quite shorter, and paler, and uh... with the cheek markings. It's a good thing he's hard to catch. I've been trying to keep him off their radar, but then I got caught and for some reason got put in the stasis pod?"
They looked at the stasis pod, furrowed their eyebrows a bit more, then pursed their lips. "Yeah, I bet that woman did something nasty to me while I was asleep. Speaking of which, I have no idea how long I've been in there. I really should figure that out." Lost in thought, they started to pace around the cell, muttering to themself. "I should try to contact Shen too. That bird, I hope they're alright..."
Shen? Shen? Are you alright?
No response.
They slumped slightly, rubbing their head. "They're not dead, at least," they mumbled. "Otherwise I would be, too."
Christofer wasn't sure on how to react to the silence. A blessing? A curse? A bit of both? It was always a little gray. Perhaps just a little more leaning towards the awkwardness. It wasn't exactly the calming kind of silence. Rather, it was of the sort that gave you way too much time to think about things you did not want to think about. It wasn't relaxing or relieving, it was consuming. The kind that took you in, left everything outside your own head dark and in the shadow of your own thoughts...
It was not the kind of thing he wanted to be feeling, but he sunk into that nothingness all the same, eyes half closed, mind not focused onto anything. Things were just, there. Time certainly didn't pass at all.
Ears twitched at the words that broke the silence, giving the boy something else to think about and he'd attentively lift his head to look at the other and listen to what was being said - only to realize just how they both were suddenly now way too close.
How?
The surprise was there, the freezing and just looking at the other, head like a couple inches away and frozen on place, no amount of looking wide eyed or blinking being able to move him nor his gaze away for a couple way too awkwardly long seconds. It was horrible.
Did he do this? Were his hands on her shoulders? Had he pulled himself this close?
It was embarrassing.
The urge of the getting up and leaning away motion was strong, but instead, in his nervousness, he could not move at all, not an inch off the chair.
"Ah-!" Small surprised sound escaped. There were no words to express the feeling. Very much paralyzing, so much so that even his hands wouldn't be able to shake as he regrettingly took the opposite direction of gripping tightly onto whatever he had to get his hands onto, be it the chair or Royanna's coat or anything, he was gripping it, weakly and with no ability to grab tight enough even if it felt like he could not hold any tighter.
Canid could maybe start to lean away, arms straight and panic inside of him and clear in his voice, heard through the slightly higher-pitch in it. He'd suddenly be taken over by a feeling of being trapped, and he wanted to struggle his way out but the arm was still there over his shoulders.
He wanted to scream, but found himself incapable of such acts.
"I-I-I-!" Full of stuttering, no proper sentences could be spoken. Not until he calmed down at least. Canid would have to reluctantly and stiffly lean back in, bend his arms and 'lay over them' instead of directly doing so with the other person, to prevent the sudden closeness that neither of them had realized.
For a lack of other was to deal with the situation, head was pressed back against the shoulder. It was his way of hiding now. And he'd be shedding a couple of tears, body not knowing how to cope so letting a couple droplets roll down his cheeks silently just happened. He'd have stopped breathing too, even if it felt like he'd have been breathing way too fast and whimpering very loudly, complaining about the 'fake' comfort. No such things happened though, and everything just stopped until the feelings surfaced with that fast panicked sharp breathing, felt through his whole being, finally followed by the eventual inflation of the balloon, long but not easily heard single whimper.
Things were a bit out of his control, but at least both him and his nervously swishing tail had somewhat calmed down and stopped whatever had suddenly surged through him.
He was red, and not going to move or speak until he calmed down and got his voice back. None of that before it.
"Sorry.... I... Let's just forget about this... that....." Whose 'fault' was it that they ended up in a 'situation' like this? Who did this? Apologies came anyway.
Followed by silence again with the only words running through his head being a constant rapid-fire of 'No, no, no, no, no'. He was denying everything. Everything.
... Supposedly this way, with such situations, they weren't spending the two hours just sitting and staring out the window.....
Finally, after way too long of a bit of silence again, he would try and act as if nothing had ever happened. Except he was not going to look at her nor show his face, keeping it and himself firmly facing past and behind her.
".... Wasn't it better that I don't know...?" Would be asked, countering Royanna's attempts from earlier. All done silently, as if to keep any apparent change in tone that may have been present. The softness may have been there, but it wasn't too far from whispering.
Though now that he had put Roy's own things on hold for a moment, he might as well bring in a substitute to replace it.
"What would You want to know? ...." Slowly slid in there. "... Of me maybe? You've told me so much and I've not done or given much in return...." Information-wise. Or had he? Maybe he had... Would it be bad to think of home?
Oh, but there was something else too. The object, the strange thing.
Christofer would be straightening up a little, though he'd have shifted some too at some point to not lay uncomfortably on two chairs. So... Was he on just one now...? Making things crowded..? No matter, where ever he was sitting, somewhere, he'd shut it from his head and remain completely oblivious to try and prevent further panicking sessions.
He'd reach for where ever he had put the object, or where ever he held it, and then proceed to bring it on over to Royanna's line of vision, presenting it on his palm.
"It was there when I ....." Stop. Let's not bring the shower here, that'd make it unnecessarily awkward. "I... found this... It was stuck at the back of my head... Or neck... Or something..." In other words, what he was meant to be asking while his eye contact slowly slipped away to anywhere else, was What is it.
He'd been pondering about it shortly himself, but came to the conclusion he wouldn't know no matter what he tried.
It was some older world tech, at least compared to what Roy might have been seeing. To Toffi it was just a complete mystery, and he'd not blame Kallenger if she knew nothing of it. Just that she seemed to have a liking for history - and overall, she knew more of the culture around here - so there was a slight chance she might know what it was. But then again, it could very much be foreign... Same tech probably wasn't around everywhere, so getting answers wasn't going to be just that easy.
But hey. What it definitely was, was:
Good distraction. Nothing had ever happened. Never. Nope. Nope. NopeNopeNopeNopeNope.
It was not the kind of thing he wanted to be feeling, but he sunk into that nothingness all the same, eyes half closed, mind not focused onto anything. Things were just, there. Time certainly didn't pass at all.
Ears twitched at the words that broke the silence, giving the boy something else to think about and he'd attentively lift his head to look at the other and listen to what was being said - only to realize just how they both were suddenly now way too close.
How?
The surprise was there, the freezing and just looking at the other, head like a couple inches away and frozen on place, no amount of looking wide eyed or blinking being able to move him nor his gaze away for a couple way too awkwardly long seconds. It was horrible.
Did he do this? Were his hands on her shoulders? Had he pulled himself this close?
It was embarrassing.
The urge of the getting up and leaning away motion was strong, but instead, in his nervousness, he could not move at all, not an inch off the chair.
"Ah-!" Small surprised sound escaped. There were no words to express the feeling. Very much paralyzing, so much so that even his hands wouldn't be able to shake as he regrettingly took the opposite direction of gripping tightly onto whatever he had to get his hands onto, be it the chair or Royanna's coat or anything, he was gripping it, weakly and with no ability to grab tight enough even if it felt like he could not hold any tighter.
Canid could maybe start to lean away, arms straight and panic inside of him and clear in his voice, heard through the slightly higher-pitch in it. He'd suddenly be taken over by a feeling of being trapped, and he wanted to struggle his way out but the arm was still there over his shoulders.
He wanted to scream, but found himself incapable of such acts.
"I-I-I-!" Full of stuttering, no proper sentences could be spoken. Not until he calmed down at least. Canid would have to reluctantly and stiffly lean back in, bend his arms and 'lay over them' instead of directly doing so with the other person, to prevent the sudden closeness that neither of them had realized.
For a lack of other was to deal with the situation, head was pressed back against the shoulder. It was his way of hiding now. And he'd be shedding a couple of tears, body not knowing how to cope so letting a couple droplets roll down his cheeks silently just happened. He'd have stopped breathing too, even if it felt like he'd have been breathing way too fast and whimpering very loudly, complaining about the 'fake' comfort. No such things happened though, and everything just stopped until the feelings surfaced with that fast panicked sharp breathing, felt through his whole being, finally followed by the eventual inflation of the balloon, long but not easily heard single whimper.
Things were a bit out of his control, but at least both him and his nervously swishing tail had somewhat calmed down and stopped whatever had suddenly surged through him.
He was red, and not going to move or speak until he calmed down and got his voice back. None of that before it.
"Sorry.... I... Let's just forget about this... that....." Whose 'fault' was it that they ended up in a 'situation' like this? Who did this? Apologies came anyway.
Followed by silence again with the only words running through his head being a constant rapid-fire of 'No, no, no, no, no'. He was denying everything. Everything.
... Supposedly this way, with such situations, they weren't spending the two hours just sitting and staring out the window.....
Finally, after way too long of a bit of silence again, he would try and act as if nothing had ever happened. Except he was not going to look at her nor show his face, keeping it and himself firmly facing past and behind her.
".... Wasn't it better that I don't know...?" Would be asked, countering Royanna's attempts from earlier. All done silently, as if to keep any apparent change in tone that may have been present. The softness may have been there, but it wasn't too far from whispering.
Though now that he had put Roy's own things on hold for a moment, he might as well bring in a substitute to replace it.
"What would You want to know? ...." Slowly slid in there. "... Of me maybe? You've told me so much and I've not done or given much in return...." Information-wise. Or had he? Maybe he had... Would it be bad to think of home?
Oh, but there was something else too. The object, the strange thing.
Christofer would be straightening up a little, though he'd have shifted some too at some point to not lay uncomfortably on two chairs. So... Was he on just one now...? Making things crowded..? No matter, where ever he was sitting, somewhere, he'd shut it from his head and remain completely oblivious to try and prevent further panicking sessions.
He'd reach for where ever he had put the object, or where ever he held it, and then proceed to bring it on over to Royanna's line of vision, presenting it on his palm.
"It was there when I ....." Stop. Let's not bring the shower here, that'd make it unnecessarily awkward. "I... found this... It was stuck at the back of my head... Or neck... Or something..." In other words, what he was meant to be asking while his eye contact slowly slipped away to anywhere else, was What is it.
He'd been pondering about it shortly himself, but came to the conclusion he wouldn't know no matter what he tried.
It was some older world tech, at least compared to what Roy might have been seeing. To Toffi it was just a complete mystery, and he'd not blame Kallenger if she knew nothing of it. Just that she seemed to have a liking for history - and overall, she knew more of the culture around here - so there was a slight chance she might know what it was. But then again, it could very much be foreign... Same tech probably wasn't around everywhere, so getting answers wasn't going to be just that easy.
But hey. What it definitely was, was:
Good distraction. Nothing had ever happened. Never. Nope. Nope. NopeNopeNopeNopeNope.
The Diplomat
The apology made Roy want to punch something. This was not particularly out of character – the woman despised when people were overly apologetic, and in that regard it was a wonder she hadn’t snapped completely as of yet. But there was something different about the violent urge, this time – something directed internally that she could not quite place – even if she’d wanted to.
Or, at least, she told herself she couldn’t place it – when in reality some deep, buried-alive part of her mind was all too aware. It was hypocritical of her – and Roy hated hypocrites – but the truth was that if it had been her to apologize, that would have been fine. But since it had been him-
Roy liked the closeness to another person. She had gone most of her trying to keep people at arm’s-length. Most people had been all too happy to stay as far away from her as they could, and she told herself it was what she wanted. In most cases, it actually was. But this was different. She did not need to acknowledge the fact for it to be true. Against every instinct, every moral fiber, every sense of professionalism and etiquette in her body – she wanted closeness. Wanted connection.
She was certain that it was a bad thing – a thing she should not want – a thing that made her weak, or weird, or generally deplorable. She was certain that, even if in some other universe she did submit to that urge, nobody in their right mind would dream of reciprocating it. She was certain that she must, for the sake of all that was good, remain isolated, despised and immovable.
But secretly – deep beneath her conscious mind – she wanted to be proven wrong.
Everyone did, in reality. In reality, it was a simple, fundamental psychological need of the human mind. Humans were social creatures, as dependent on social interaction as they were on food and water. Humans took comfort in the company of others. It was instinct, engrained in their psyche. She had no choice but to fight that view, to prove herself a different case – however hard reality might have pushed back. Nobody wanted that kind of fight – but she had it, whether she liked it or not – so wasn’t it best to convince herself she was glad for it? She couldn’t change herself, so she had better learn to live with it.
But secretly and unbeknownst even to herself, she wanted to be proven wrong. Wanted to be faced with undeniable evidence to the contrary – be shown against all odds that maybe she was not so terribly different from everyone else – maybe someone did want to be near, did enjoy her company – and maybe it was okay for her to do the same.
But Christofer’s apology – his own discomfort, which matched her own – went against that. And so it was not a conscious anger at him – nor a conscious anger at all – but a subconscious reaction to internal processes of which she forced herself constantly to be unaware. Christofer’s apology proved her right when she wanted to be proven wrong. It reinforced what she wanted to tear down. It reminded her yet again that nobody in their right mind would want to be any closer to her than they absolutely had to.
It should have made her feel more confident, but instead it just made her feel weak. She resented feeling weak – so she bolstered with directionless anger. Then she tried to justify it, and learn to cope with it – make compromises that didn’t really compromise anything. Told herself that she was glad for it, had always been glad for it, why would she ever have not been glad for it, who was he to think she’d ever been glad for it, who was she to think she could have ever not been glad for it- Even while simultaneously she ignored the despair at having almost reached out, only to be shot down again.
All this was, was the first step in losing a friend. She was being weird. Probably the first step had been ages ago. There had never been a first step, because there had never been a friend, because Royanna Kallenger did not have friends.
”Yeah, sorry.” She said – not with bitterness, but something much more complex and indefinable – and subtle. A strain that implied a vastly deeper thought process than the words did alone, but allowed for little more save speculation. As she said it, she leaned forward abruptly to prod at some miscellaneous buttons on the frontmost control board, shrugging him off the rest of the way in the process.
Then she leaned back again, arms crossed in a thoroughly closed position. ”Must have drifted off there.” She added, muttering – taking the blame, still without looking in his direction.
What he said next was ample enough distraction from it all to get her thinking in a different direction.
As it happened, yes – there was a lot she’d been wanting to know about him.
What was the name of his home planet? How had he gotten to Earth IV? Who actually was he, really? Who were those people who seemed to have recognized him? A few dozen others.
Interest piqued, she was about to inquire further – when Christofer produced the chip.
It was a simple thing – dark gray and greenish silicon, with minute indentations and protrusions where circuitry could be seen. Around the edge was the fine sawtooth pattern which made for easily sticking to flesh or fur without causing pain.
Seeing it, Roy’s eyes widened marginally, her focus and expression becoming intense. It was immediately obvious that she knew exactly what she was looking at – but when she spoke, the same urgency did not creep into her voice. She was calm, and level. This was, after all, something very near to what she considered “work”.
”Christofer, how long have you known about this?” She said, more than asked – it came off sober, and probably more accusatory than she had intended. As usual. Reaching out a hand, she silently implied that he should give it to her – waggled her fingers impatiently if he took too long coming to that conclusion. Once in possession of it, she held it delicately between two fingers, turning it over in her careful grasp, examining it seriously. To him, it probably seemed as though she looked over the thing for a very, very long time – though it was no more than a minute. A long minute, perhaps.
At last, she said lowly, definitely and meaningfully ”It’s a tracker.” And let the implications sink in for a moment, before proceeding with an interpretation of her own.
”Someone’s been tracking your position. It’s not Imperial tech. Too simple.” Her hard gaze flicked only momentarily to Christofer’s own, before returning to the chip, turning it over again. ”Christofer, what as the name of the planet you remember living on before you met me? Did you have radio technology or lightspeed communication? I think the old term is wireless?” As she asked, Roy placed the chip down on the same little black pad atop the control panel to her left that she had previously used to analyze her own badge. She tapped a button, and a whole host of technical information appeared in a new window on the primary monitor. It was all more or less illegible of course, even to her – she was no engineer – but there was still vital information that an analysis such as this could give her. In some cases, more than an engineer.
A telling detail, if Christofer thought to look at the screen, would be the amount of terminology listed that would prove at least vaguely familiar to him. Words that, while he might not have known exactly what they meant, were recognizable as the parts of an electronic device. Words such as “RAM” and “Processor”, “Transistor”, “Transmitter”, “Diode”, “Semiconductor”, “Capacitor”, and “Resistor”.
Still glancing over the technical specifications on the screen, she asked ”Where was it on your body? Can you think of any time you felt a prick there, like something bit you? Or did anyone hit you there? This is important.” Then, appearing to have thought of a new question along a new line, she turned to him to continue the interrogation-that-was-not-supposed-to-be-an-interrogation. ”You said you were in the military, right? What kind of unit were you in? Was this standard practice?”
It seemed that, after days of knowing almost nothing about him, Royanna was finally about to learn a whole lot of important things at once.
The whole business with the Imperials suddenly seemed very far away – just as her hunt for the Devil Eye had started to seem some time before.
Qetan Ship!
Tsuan looked like he was about to reply, but then Rai’s sentence continued, and again, he froze. Mouth became a very low frown, quirked up at one corner to make a nervous, guilty expression that was almost comical. He let out an ’oh @#$%’ sigh, then averted his eyes from the Nyran.
”He...wouldn’t happen to have…purple cheek-marks, would he~?” He said in a too-innocent, sing-songy voice. ”About...yay-tall?” He held a level hand out, as if he were placing it atop an invisible Rin’s head. The smile grew a little brighter, as if there were still some hope of Rai referring to someone else - but the look on Rai’s face would undoubtedly dash that hope.
Tsuan slumped, and huffed dejectedly. He probably didn’t even need to explain, now - but he did anyway. Gravely, as though admitting to having stolen from the cookie jar, he went on ”We were trying to get him to someone we thought could help keep him safe from that crazy Ova lady.” The idea that Rai might have no clue who ‘Ova’ was had not crossed his mind. The whole ordeal had been so huge to him that it seemed it must be so for everyone. ”Then our idiot maintenance monkey let our ship get hacked. Tall, Dark and Sparky hopped through the floor and said he was gonna’ take Rin. So, I told him that if Rin and I got separated too far, he’d...explode.”
It sounded ridiculous now that he was describing the story out loud - even to him.
”Which,” He added, as an afterthought, ”Is totally true, if anyone asks.”
He decided to let his motives for doing this go unanswered - or, he simply did not think to justify them. Whatever the case, Tsuan proceeded to lean back on one wall, and watch the Nyran pace, nodding along with him as though they were sharing the exact same thought process and he wasn’t just trying vainly to understand the vast majority of what his cellmate was talking about.
When he next spoke, it was adequate proof that he was rather behind on the information. ”So, just to get things straight - are the guys with the reddish marks the bad guys, and the guys with the blueish marks good guys? That would be super convenient.” Actually, he’d been mostly joking with that one, even though it did make sense. Qetans, Rai had called them. He’d have to remember that.
Though it did not particularly help that Tsuan himself looked much nearer to a Qetan than a Nyran, with his dark skin and hair, and oriental features. It was a good thing he didn’t have any tattoos.
Save for that one, but nobody would have seen that one anyway. At least, he hoped not.
”So - any chance of us making a daring, heroic escape here? Or are we pretty much screwed? ‘Cause I totally get it if we’re screwed.” He said, amiably, deciding against asking about what kind of weirdness might have been done to him by the creepy scientist, if partly over feeling too skeeved-out to think about it if he didn’t have to.
The apology made Roy want to punch something. This was not particularly out of character – the woman despised when people were overly apologetic, and in that regard it was a wonder she hadn’t snapped completely as of yet. But there was something different about the violent urge, this time – something directed internally that she could not quite place – even if she’d wanted to.
Or, at least, she told herself she couldn’t place it – when in reality some deep, buried-alive part of her mind was all too aware. It was hypocritical of her – and Roy hated hypocrites – but the truth was that if it had been her to apologize, that would have been fine. But since it had been him-
Roy liked the closeness to another person. She had gone most of her trying to keep people at arm’s-length. Most people had been all too happy to stay as far away from her as they could, and she told herself it was what she wanted. In most cases, it actually was. But this was different. She did not need to acknowledge the fact for it to be true. Against every instinct, every moral fiber, every sense of professionalism and etiquette in her body – she wanted closeness. Wanted connection.
She was certain that it was a bad thing – a thing she should not want – a thing that made her weak, or weird, or generally deplorable. She was certain that, even if in some other universe she did submit to that urge, nobody in their right mind would dream of reciprocating it. She was certain that she must, for the sake of all that was good, remain isolated, despised and immovable.
But secretly – deep beneath her conscious mind – she wanted to be proven wrong.
Everyone did, in reality. In reality, it was a simple, fundamental psychological need of the human mind. Humans were social creatures, as dependent on social interaction as they were on food and water. Humans took comfort in the company of others. It was instinct, engrained in their psyche. She had no choice but to fight that view, to prove herself a different case – however hard reality might have pushed back. Nobody wanted that kind of fight – but she had it, whether she liked it or not – so wasn’t it best to convince herself she was glad for it? She couldn’t change herself, so she had better learn to live with it.
But secretly and unbeknownst even to herself, she wanted to be proven wrong. Wanted to be faced with undeniable evidence to the contrary – be shown against all odds that maybe she was not so terribly different from everyone else – maybe someone did want to be near, did enjoy her company – and maybe it was okay for her to do the same.
But Christofer’s apology – his own discomfort, which matched her own – went against that. And so it was not a conscious anger at him – nor a conscious anger at all – but a subconscious reaction to internal processes of which she forced herself constantly to be unaware. Christofer’s apology proved her right when she wanted to be proven wrong. It reinforced what she wanted to tear down. It reminded her yet again that nobody in their right mind would want to be any closer to her than they absolutely had to.
It should have made her feel more confident, but instead it just made her feel weak. She resented feeling weak – so she bolstered with directionless anger. Then she tried to justify it, and learn to cope with it – make compromises that didn’t really compromise anything. Told herself that she was glad for it, had always been glad for it, why would she ever have not been glad for it, who was he to think she’d ever been glad for it, who was she to think she could have ever not been glad for it- Even while simultaneously she ignored the despair at having almost reached out, only to be shot down again.
All this was, was the first step in losing a friend. She was being weird. Probably the first step had been ages ago. There had never been a first step, because there had never been a friend, because Royanna Kallenger did not have friends.
”Yeah, sorry.” She said – not with bitterness, but something much more complex and indefinable – and subtle. A strain that implied a vastly deeper thought process than the words did alone, but allowed for little more save speculation. As she said it, she leaned forward abruptly to prod at some miscellaneous buttons on the frontmost control board, shrugging him off the rest of the way in the process.
Then she leaned back again, arms crossed in a thoroughly closed position. ”Must have drifted off there.” She added, muttering – taking the blame, still without looking in his direction.
What he said next was ample enough distraction from it all to get her thinking in a different direction.
As it happened, yes – there was a lot she’d been wanting to know about him.
What was the name of his home planet? How had he gotten to Earth IV? Who actually was he, really? Who were those people who seemed to have recognized him? A few dozen others.
Interest piqued, she was about to inquire further – when Christofer produced the chip.
It was a simple thing – dark gray and greenish silicon, with minute indentations and protrusions where circuitry could be seen. Around the edge was the fine sawtooth pattern which made for easily sticking to flesh or fur without causing pain.
Seeing it, Roy’s eyes widened marginally, her focus and expression becoming intense. It was immediately obvious that she knew exactly what she was looking at – but when she spoke, the same urgency did not creep into her voice. She was calm, and level. This was, after all, something very near to what she considered “work”.
”Christofer, how long have you known about this?” She said, more than asked – it came off sober, and probably more accusatory than she had intended. As usual. Reaching out a hand, she silently implied that he should give it to her – waggled her fingers impatiently if he took too long coming to that conclusion. Once in possession of it, she held it delicately between two fingers, turning it over in her careful grasp, examining it seriously. To him, it probably seemed as though she looked over the thing for a very, very long time – though it was no more than a minute. A long minute, perhaps.
At last, she said lowly, definitely and meaningfully ”It’s a tracker.” And let the implications sink in for a moment, before proceeding with an interpretation of her own.
”Someone’s been tracking your position. It’s not Imperial tech. Too simple.” Her hard gaze flicked only momentarily to Christofer’s own, before returning to the chip, turning it over again. ”Christofer, what as the name of the planet you remember living on before you met me? Did you have radio technology or lightspeed communication? I think the old term is wireless?” As she asked, Roy placed the chip down on the same little black pad atop the control panel to her left that she had previously used to analyze her own badge. She tapped a button, and a whole host of technical information appeared in a new window on the primary monitor. It was all more or less illegible of course, even to her – she was no engineer – but there was still vital information that an analysis such as this could give her. In some cases, more than an engineer.
A telling detail, if Christofer thought to look at the screen, would be the amount of terminology listed that would prove at least vaguely familiar to him. Words that, while he might not have known exactly what they meant, were recognizable as the parts of an electronic device. Words such as “RAM” and “Processor”, “Transistor”, “Transmitter”, “Diode”, “Semiconductor”, “Capacitor”, and “Resistor”.
Still glancing over the technical specifications on the screen, she asked ”Where was it on your body? Can you think of any time you felt a prick there, like something bit you? Or did anyone hit you there? This is important.” Then, appearing to have thought of a new question along a new line, she turned to him to continue the interrogation-that-was-not-supposed-to-be-an-interrogation. ”You said you were in the military, right? What kind of unit were you in? Was this standard practice?”
It seemed that, after days of knowing almost nothing about him, Royanna was finally about to learn a whole lot of important things at once.
The whole business with the Imperials suddenly seemed very far away – just as her hunt for the Devil Eye had started to seem some time before.
Qetan Ship!
Tsuan looked like he was about to reply, but then Rai’s sentence continued, and again, he froze. Mouth became a very low frown, quirked up at one corner to make a nervous, guilty expression that was almost comical. He let out an ’oh @#$%’ sigh, then averted his eyes from the Nyran.
”He...wouldn’t happen to have…purple cheek-marks, would he~?” He said in a too-innocent, sing-songy voice. ”About...yay-tall?” He held a level hand out, as if he were placing it atop an invisible Rin’s head. The smile grew a little brighter, as if there were still some hope of Rai referring to someone else - but the look on Rai’s face would undoubtedly dash that hope.
Tsuan slumped, and huffed dejectedly. He probably didn’t even need to explain, now - but he did anyway. Gravely, as though admitting to having stolen from the cookie jar, he went on ”We were trying to get him to someone we thought could help keep him safe from that crazy Ova lady.” The idea that Rai might have no clue who ‘Ova’ was had not crossed his mind. The whole ordeal had been so huge to him that it seemed it must be so for everyone. ”Then our idiot maintenance monkey let our ship get hacked. Tall, Dark and Sparky hopped through the floor and said he was gonna’ take Rin. So, I told him that if Rin and I got separated too far, he’d...explode.”
It sounded ridiculous now that he was describing the story out loud - even to him.
”Which,” He added, as an afterthought, ”Is totally true, if anyone asks.”
He decided to let his motives for doing this go unanswered - or, he simply did not think to justify them. Whatever the case, Tsuan proceeded to lean back on one wall, and watch the Nyran pace, nodding along with him as though they were sharing the exact same thought process and he wasn’t just trying vainly to understand the vast majority of what his cellmate was talking about.
When he next spoke, it was adequate proof that he was rather behind on the information. ”So, just to get things straight - are the guys with the reddish marks the bad guys, and the guys with the blueish marks good guys? That would be super convenient.” Actually, he’d been mostly joking with that one, even though it did make sense. Qetans, Rai had called them. He’d have to remember that.
Though it did not particularly help that Tsuan himself looked much nearer to a Qetan than a Nyran, with his dark skin and hair, and oriental features. It was a good thing he didn’t have any tattoos.
Save for that one, but nobody would have seen that one anyway. At least, he hoped not.
”So - any chance of us making a daring, heroic escape here? Or are we pretty much screwed? ‘Cause I totally get it if we’re screwed.” He said, amiably, deciding against asking about what kind of weirdness might have been done to him by the creepy scientist, if partly over feeling too skeeved-out to think about it if he didn’t have to.
Before the rations even slid to the fleeting Laurent, who at this point had fled to the vents, the cargo bay was bombarded with multiple ground shaking strikes from an outside assailant. "Mother@#$%&*! Just as I was about to try and calm this situation down!" screamed Jet, head tilted back, looking at the ceiling. Jet quickly pounded down both sets of rations, leaving the beer, and heard a voice from outside the cargo bay.
”Hey, Big Guy! Down here? Need y’elp topdeck. Stuck door.”
They were talking to Jet, he was big guy. At least he could do something for this crew now, instead of hobbling around like a blind ox. Jet kicked through the cargo bay door, not knowing if he needed to or not. He rushed out, but instead of going to the topdeck, he took a quick detour to his quarters, grabbed out a gray sleeveless nano-carbon enriched shirt, switched it for his own. Before closing the door to his room, he produced a small white headband that had an unknown language inscribed on it, though Jet will say it means unstoppable in the little known language of Jenthalin. He prepped his calves, and then took off like a bullet towards the topdeck. The speed that he was achieving would make a full grown plains runner piss itself. He saw the door that Dallen spoke of and where Ty was currently. With one strike, Jet thrust his hands into the metal, as if it were particle board. Taking a firm stance, Jet rapidly spun his hips back and forth, as if he was punching, but instead he was transferring the energy into the doors, pushing them in. The hydraulicly assisted doors that occupied this doorframe proved tough, but they were military-grade tough. Akin to squishing rock with your bare-hands, Jet pushed the hydraulic doors back into the wall, causing some of the cylinders to explode with the pressure. With sweat and a bit of tears, Jet turned towards the remaining crew and gave a thumbs up and a half smile, realizing that he could of just pulled the doors out, or kicked them in, like he had done in the cargo bay, bypassing the hydraulic compression. But it looked cooler to do it this way.
”Hey, Big Guy! Down here? Need y’elp topdeck. Stuck door.”
They were talking to Jet, he was big guy. At least he could do something for this crew now, instead of hobbling around like a blind ox. Jet kicked through the cargo bay door, not knowing if he needed to or not. He rushed out, but instead of going to the topdeck, he took a quick detour to his quarters, grabbed out a gray sleeveless nano-carbon enriched shirt, switched it for his own. Before closing the door to his room, he produced a small white headband that had an unknown language inscribed on it, though Jet will say it means unstoppable in the little known language of Jenthalin. He prepped his calves, and then took off like a bullet towards the topdeck. The speed that he was achieving would make a full grown plains runner piss itself. He saw the door that Dallen spoke of and where Ty was currently. With one strike, Jet thrust his hands into the metal, as if it were particle board. Taking a firm stance, Jet rapidly spun his hips back and forth, as if he was punching, but instead he was transferring the energy into the doors, pushing them in. The hydraulicly assisted doors that occupied this doorframe proved tough, but they were military-grade tough. Akin to squishing rock with your bare-hands, Jet pushed the hydraulic doors back into the wall, causing some of the cylinders to explode with the pressure. With sweat and a bit of tears, Jet turned towards the remaining crew and gave a thumbs up and a half smile, realizing that he could of just pulled the doors out, or kicked them in, like he had done in the cargo bay, bypassing the hydraulic compression. But it looked cooler to do it this way.
Rai’s face dropped drastically.
So… they had failed. The Nyran had been taken…
They plopped onto the floor, holding back a despairing whimper as they hunched over, their dark robes making them look even smaller. “So not only is he a target to the cult, he is apparently also wanted elsewhere. To this ‘Ova’ person. Whoever they are.” They kicked away part of their robe. “Not that it matters. The Qetans have him now…” they mumbled.
Who knows how long they had him. What if they- no.
No, no, there was still a chance. There had to be! They couldn’t have just failed the one thing they spent all of their life preparing for!
With a newfound determination, their head shot up, scrambling up and towards the shield. Once again they opened their bond.
ShenShenShenShenShen!
A mental curse made them silently whoop, and they began talking aloud at what seemed to be nothing. “Shen! You’re awake!”
Obviously! A confused. irritated grumble.. then a pause. Oh gods, I don’t know how long I’ve been here. You know how terrible I am with time…
“It’s alright. But right now, we gotta get outta here and complete our Mission.”
If you’re sure…
“Positive!”
A mental sigh, then an agreement.
The familiar feeling of energy, of aether being transferred between their bond, was a comforting one. Even though they weren’t actually alone right now- well. They were familiars. The closeness helped them from feeling like a failure far more times than they could count.
Try it now.
They breathed in, hand starting to glow with a silvery aura, faint crackles of lightning barely seen- and slowly breathed out as they passed their hand through the shield.
Slowly, carefully, they maneuvered their arm to try and reach for the button on the other side. They started to sweat- they must have been in the pod for quite a while, for them to feel this drained- and it was getting harder to concentrate.
For a moment it looked like they would have to retract their arm. Or worse, get electrocuted again.
But, miraculously, they did it.
They reached the button- and shot a small jolt of aether into the panel.
The shield crackled into nothingness… and the door retracted.
They were free.
They looked back at Tsuan, a hopeful glint in their eyes as they took a step out. “I really hope your friends have some sort of tracker on you, or something along those lines, to find you. ‘Cause they’re probably gonna be our way outta here.”
So… they had failed. The Nyran had been taken…
They plopped onto the floor, holding back a despairing whimper as they hunched over, their dark robes making them look even smaller. “So not only is he a target to the cult, he is apparently also wanted elsewhere. To this ‘Ova’ person. Whoever they are.” They kicked away part of their robe. “Not that it matters. The Qetans have him now…” they mumbled.
Who knows how long they had him. What if they- no.
No, no, there was still a chance. There had to be! They couldn’t have just failed the one thing they spent all of their life preparing for!
With a newfound determination, their head shot up, scrambling up and towards the shield. Once again they opened their bond.
ShenShenShenShenShen!
A mental curse made them silently whoop, and they began talking aloud at what seemed to be nothing. “Shen! You’re awake!”
Obviously! A confused. irritated grumble.. then a pause. Oh gods, I don’t know how long I’ve been here. You know how terrible I am with time…
“It’s alright. But right now, we gotta get outta here and complete our Mission.”
If you’re sure…
“Positive!”
A mental sigh, then an agreement.
The familiar feeling of energy, of aether being transferred between their bond, was a comforting one. Even though they weren’t actually alone right now- well. They were familiars. The closeness helped them from feeling like a failure far more times than they could count.
Try it now.
They breathed in, hand starting to glow with a silvery aura, faint crackles of lightning barely seen- and slowly breathed out as they passed their hand through the shield.
Slowly, carefully, they maneuvered their arm to try and reach for the button on the other side. They started to sweat- they must have been in the pod for quite a while, for them to feel this drained- and it was getting harder to concentrate.
For a moment it looked like they would have to retract their arm. Or worse, get electrocuted again.
But, miraculously, they did it.
They reached the button- and shot a small jolt of aether into the panel.
The shield crackled into nothingness… and the door retracted.
They were free.
They looked back at Tsuan, a hopeful glint in their eyes as they took a step out. “I really hope your friends have some sort of tracker on you, or something along those lines, to find you. ‘Cause they’re probably gonna be our way outta here.”
Qetans ship, to all except Rin
There vision would turn a dark purple as a pair of ghostly red eyes would appear in front of there vision and a female voice filled with agitation began to speak in there minds
"Bring me the boy! I, Lord Ova of the undead and darkness demand it! If I do not have him soon, then there will be sever consequences! Consider the that damn yacht gone as well as your existences! Do not test me!"
And soon the purple vision faded and the ghostly red eyes vanished returning everything normal for now, ending her psych attack on there minds even though it was more of a warning than an attack.
There vision would turn a dark purple as a pair of ghostly red eyes would appear in front of there vision and a female voice filled with agitation began to speak in there minds
"Bring me the boy! I, Lord Ova of the undead and darkness demand it! If I do not have him soon, then there will be sever consequences! Consider the that damn yacht gone as well as your existences! Do not test me!"
And soon the purple vision faded and the ghostly red eyes vanished returning everything normal for now, ending her psych attack on there minds even though it was more of a warning than an attack.
For Nirix, tired was just an understatement.
She was tired as hell, weary with the burden to close her eyes and embrace what would be restful sleep; yet it was not her time. Ketin came first and Nirix would deal with her priority above all else. Ketin was more important than missing a few hours of sleep.
"Please, just leave. It's been a long day and we can speak of this on another time" Nirix added her opinion to Ketin's and nearly mirrored the distrust in her stance towards the cyan man. Though he gave off an air of general calmness, of someone that was good and that she would be able to confide in, the Eoclu found it rather unappealing. It was too good to be true and the idea that she could relax around someone that was generally following them, who was following Ketin, did not sit well.
It made Nirix think amongst her weary tiredness. Was he an angel? Or a devil wearing a well-placed mask?
Following Ketin's insistence, Nirix led the galaxy known fencer, Francis Judeau, out of the room and promptly shut the door in his face.
The exhaustion fell upon her in huge waves, yet Nirix still stood and walked over to Ketin. There were so many things that she needed to say, that pulled at her thoughts even as she fought the urge to fall onto the floor and sleep. But now, as she gazed at Ketin with tired lavender eyes, all she could do was place a hesitant hand on top of his head and comb through the red mop that was his hair with her fingers.
It was an odd gesture, especially coming from Nirix yet it seemed to soothe her. For a moment, her level of exhaustion was forgotten and she let a small smile grace her lips.
"Melava somniar da'len, time for sleep. I believe we all deserve that much for the trouble today has caused,"
She was tired as hell, weary with the burden to close her eyes and embrace what would be restful sleep; yet it was not her time. Ketin came first and Nirix would deal with her priority above all else. Ketin was more important than missing a few hours of sleep.
"Please, just leave. It's been a long day and we can speak of this on another time" Nirix added her opinion to Ketin's and nearly mirrored the distrust in her stance towards the cyan man. Though he gave off an air of general calmness, of someone that was good and that she would be able to confide in, the Eoclu found it rather unappealing. It was too good to be true and the idea that she could relax around someone that was generally following them, who was following Ketin, did not sit well.
It made Nirix think amongst her weary tiredness. Was he an angel? Or a devil wearing a well-placed mask?
Following Ketin's insistence, Nirix led the galaxy known fencer, Francis Judeau, out of the room and promptly shut the door in his face.
The exhaustion fell upon her in huge waves, yet Nirix still stood and walked over to Ketin. There were so many things that she needed to say, that pulled at her thoughts even as she fought the urge to fall onto the floor and sleep. But now, as she gazed at Ketin with tired lavender eyes, all she could do was place a hesitant hand on top of his head and comb through the red mop that was his hair with her fingers.
It was an odd gesture, especially coming from Nirix yet it seemed to soothe her. For a moment, her level of exhaustion was forgotten and she let a small smile grace her lips.
"Melava somniar da'len, time for sleep. I believe we all deserve that much for the trouble today has caused,"
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