Futuristic A Journey Offworld

[0135Kelly]

"Breakfast sounds good." Kelly stood from her seat and placed her palms on the cool steel of the table, her tousled hair swayed slowly around her face. She looked between the two sleep ridden faces before her with a small tinge of pride, she had managed to pull together, although small, a well rounded collection of crew members, capable of running a ship. Before she could revel in her pride, her thoughts returned to her abortion of a breakfast Verona had quickly devoured, not remembering so much as a cringe as the woman chomped away at the disgusting, dry bread. "Food. I need food."


Her eyes finally rested on the newcomer, properly registering his presence in the room, she decided a smile would suffice for this encounter. "I take it you found the Bridge was to your liking? You did spend some time admiring the room."

 

[Sir Horace]

Horace blinked, registering the fact people were talking to him. He first took the card gratefully from Verona, "Yes, parts, food, you make a compelling case Miss Ravenshade. The market it will be!"


Then Horace turned to face his captain, he matched her smile with what he hoped was a cheerful grin, wondering if his tired muscles were capable of that manoeuvre right now.


"The bridge is perfect, everything I'll need plus a comfortable chair, you can never over-estimate the use of a comfortable chair whilst flying. I look forward to handling those controls myself captain."

 

[ladyaliciaaa]

"I'd hate for you to consider me as a case, Horace," she countered "..an' you may call me Verona, and I shall call you Horace. B'cause somethin' else I also hate is being all fancy," she scrunched her face up and dashed down the hallway to leave the two to their own accord and to gather a handful of credits ready to be spent and to make her unkempt room as fast as she possibly could manage.


Her stomach protested at the thought of food, it seemed to be like the only thing on the crew member's mind half of the time. That and the weather as a possible second. Some days it would be impossible to take flight due to the haze caused by all the engine and light pollution. Some days were beautiful but the seemingly ancient and ramshackle engine of their ship would refuse to cool down.

 

[Sir Horace]

Horace grinned, until now he'd been unsure what to make of the woman, but her casual demeanour was putting him at ease. "Verona it is, glad to be working with you."


As she ran off to her quarters Horace turned again to his Captain. "And Kelly. Verona and Kelly. Verona, Kelly and Horace. And that other fellow. I like it..."


Horace smiled quietly to himself. Good to have people around again, as much as he likes himself, one can only keep ones own company for so long. They say no joke is funny twice, try knowing every punchline as you tell them to yourself. Fresh conversation, thats what he'd been looking for.


"The market is it? I'd get my things, but I don't have any- Oh! That reminds me, you'll be billed for the services I had done to the ship. I, um, I assumed that'd be alright."


Horace's grin dropped, might have been better to ask before he thought, or to at least tell her earlier. When he rehearsed this conversation in his head it was a lot less awkward.

 

[0135Kelly]

"That will be quite fine Mr Serket. If you will be needing any money, I will gladly loan you a few credits."


Kelly gathered her belongings, taking care to put her empty plate into the sanitizer tray to be washed. After her time in the Military, hygiene was something the Captain enforced with an iron fist, after spending so much time with the filth that was her Fire-Team, she relished in the fact that she could keep herself and her surroundings clean.


"I will meet you on the docking platform in a few minutes. I need to collect some things from my room." Kelly half smiled and left the room, her bare feet slapping against the cold floor of the ships corridor sent a shiver up her spine, even though it was cold, it was sans-unpleasant. With a hiss, the Captains quarters door slid open revealing a plain, clean room. A neatly made bed lay in the far left corner next to a large desk that featured a built in terminal to access the ships files and records, which came in handy when she needed to make emergency tweaks to the life support temperatures. The walls were a plain grey with silver trim around the edges and a metal shutter that could be opened to reveal a porthole window to the outside of the ship. Other than her odd bits and bobs littering the shelves, her room was fairly standard issue. She quickly darted around the room, picking up items and stuffing them into her small carry-bag, followed by a few taps on the terminal to transfer some funds to her credit chip implant before exiting and making her way to the platform.

 

[ladyaliciaaa]

Movement ensued in the hallways, Verona assumed they'd dispersed to ready themselves for the bazaar, they congregated at the docking platform after gathering their belongings.


And so they stood surrounded by noise that flowed over their heads, like water, going past their ears. Holographic booths were set up down the whole market, they littered the street, temporarily hovering in mid-air displaying ship-parts and other oddities from planets all over the galaxy. There were ores and pungent herbal medicines, trinkets that shimmered and winked at passer-by's and delectable street food that beckoned to them. Beefy hybrids grunted as they lifted heavy crates and navigated through the crowds, a sweaty elbow prodded into her side and she winced at the impact, shoving those in front in order to ease the journey to their destination. A swear made it's way out of her lips as a scaly lizard like-thing trod on her foot, she blanked for a few seconds before looking down to check that it was intact. It was going to be a long day.

 

[0135Kelly]

Kelly had never had many problems cutting through a crowd but the bustling crowds in the Bazaar were another story. She lead the crew of the 'Strides' through the countless mobs of civilians briskly, trying and failing desperately to cut into the wall of people in their way. It was a mess. She quickly turned her head to make sure the crew hadn't fallen behind in the time it took to make 10 paces forward, although highly unlikely for them to have managed to separate, she still felt the need to check.


"Mr. Serket! Would you care to show us the way to the nearest eatery?!" Kelly's voice barely managed to travel the 5 feet between herself and Horace as the roar of the Bazaar tried its hardest to drown her out. Although unknowingly, Kelly herself mentally agreed with Verona; today was destined to be a nightmare.

 

[Sir Horace]

The rich bustling atmosphere, intense sounds, sights and smells. Alien spices attacking his sinuses, flashing lights piercing his eyes. He tuned in to the heated bargaining and haggling of two local men over what seemed to be a type of fish. Sidestepping slightly to avoid a pickpockets hands and dodging back as a large man ran through the crowd with twice his weight in metal crates. Horace did so love places like this, so alive, so real.


Ah, the captain wants an eatery? Horace was more than inclined to agree with her, and his stomach was practically begging.


Local knowledge, Horace thought to himself. What do I know?


80 metres, around that corner, simple tasteless protein dispensary, cheap, boring. Perhaps not.


25 metres, between those two stands, rich scented alien meat he was never able to identify. Flavoursome, but thats not always a good thing. Better to not risk it.


200 metres, at the corner of that building, a higher class bar, good food, but pointlessly expensive for a simple meal. Better not.


The Barons Laugh. To busy.


O'Conners dispensary. To shady.


Heated Discussion. Bad experiences with food poisoning.


Horace grinned to himself. "I know just the place, follow me". And with that, Horace lead the small group through the crowd, his destination: A quiet, local cafe style place, The Humming Bard.

 

[ladyaliciaaa]

The first thing she realized upon entering the lilac and green beaded curtains of the Humming Bard, was that it was crowded. Though the texture of the crowds changed somewhat through the day - the morning businessmen with their virtual newspapers that flickered every few minutes had long gone, the more youthful evening crowd not quite yet arrived in full force. Verona slips neatly between a heated debate about the cloning of humans that was just warming up and a gaggle of fashionably dressed young-lings peering over the latest Droid-dash placing, she manages to secure for them a small table with only a slight dusting of pastry crumbs, which she flicks away with a sweep of her hand before positioning herself in the booth, upholstered with neon purple and blue cushions. Verona observed her crew members over a glass of pink, only mildly alcoholic iced beverage and a plate of crispy, golden-brown toast lathered with Kloven Berry jam.


The red carpet engulfed her heels, subtly varying vivid shades of red, the color of roses. The walls were swathed in buttery light, rich and merry, it made her feel pleasant inside. She smiled in silent appreciation for the choice of diner.


"-Always been fond of the color red. Reminds me of the sky when the sun sets," she hummed distractedly as her eyes glided across the creamy green veils that concealed the glass windows beyond them, and the contemporary yellow orbs that bobbed above every table. The sound of the simulated television screen situated near the center of the room occupied the cafe.


The Composed spotted...5 killed, 2 in stable condition...

 

[0135Kelly]

Kelly wasn't used to the Cafe scene in cities, nor was she used to being in a City for anything other than being stationed in it but the loud, conversation filled mini-metropolis of the Humming Bard wasn't unpleasant. She would change a few things if she could of course, like the red carpet.


The Composed spotted...5 killed, 2 in stable condition...


Kelly's eyes were immediately locked onto the News casting and her hands balled into fists with the audible creaking of her leather gloves. The casting continued to display a feed of a planet in the 'not-so-far' system of Virillus-04. Kelly had to grit her teeth for a moment just to avert her attention from the screen, turning her gaze to her distracted companion.


"I would have to say my own affinity is towards a deep Blue." She opened her eyes, momentarily flashing her glowing blue Irides before giving a subtle wink which ultimately turned into some kind of facial twitch from Verona's point of view. Although, Kelly thought it was perfect, she was a natural 'winker'.

 

[Spiritdancer]

The air had a bitter, iciness in it that had settled during the night. Watery, light oozed, pooling like blood on the grimy floor.


Harsh sounds battered her sensitive ears, as Saska hurriedly weaved her way through the mass of writhing bodies. She pulled up her cowl, shielding her face against inquiring gazes and hungry stares.


She hated the market. Having to fight through the wave of people that always seemed to be going the opposite way, the smells of putrid vomit, mixed with the sickly sweet smell of versaga, and the endless pleads of beggars looking to earn a few scraps of credit. The confining nature of it all, left her nerves tingling.


Saska lengthened her strides, eager to reach the destination, fingers itching with anticipation.


She had it all calculated in her brain, if escape was necessary the only place to go, was up.

 

[ladyaliciaaa]

Her fingers drummed the table as the newscaster announced the recent happenings, reports of The Composed were frequent, though Verona hadn't discovered one with her very eyes just yet, she knew of the devastation they could impose. She placed her lips on the cool rim of the glass and took a sip of the 'lemonade' which fizzed on her tongue, the liquid was hot as it ran down her throat. A splutter followed by a bout of coughing issued forth from her mouth, partly from amusement at the hazard of a wink that Kelly had directed her way and also due to the vigor packed into the drink that rolled around on her tongue, tangy, sweet and then sour. It tasted like Peach almost, but fresh fruit was a limited supply on numerous planets. Anything farmed or grown was a rarity.


"-Wasn't expecting that," she heaved between her fit of coughing, as it started to cease. The temptation to take another swallow, and another and another and call for one more is nearly overwhelming, only the monotonous droning of the reporter's voice stills her hand. She folds and unfolds the cream napkin on her lap in discomfort before rising to her feet and pacing toward the screen to change the channel.

 

[Spiritdancer]

In a matter of months, Saska had realized that most people were oblivious to what was right in front of them. Barely any of them paid attention to minute details and most of them never even looked up. Manipulating their perceptions were key, vanishing from where she was a moment ago was how she avoided trouble. Of course this made it fractionally more easier for her to survive.


Her slender fingers clenched the perfectly balanced knife hidden on her belt. She had never had to use it, which was fortunate as her skills were limited. It wasn't the most honest way of doing things, but it was survival of the fittest after all. Striding along the street, her smooth, leather shoes made little to no sound on the gravel. The yeasty odour of hot out of the oven GM bread, pervaded her nose. Matching the pace of a redhead women next to her, she made her way towards the bakery. It would be a quick job, in and out.


The tempting pile of 'bread' was stacked precariously, cooling in the frigid air. Studded with currants, golden brown and perfectly formed. It was of course produced in a lab, injected with colouring and artificial flavours. But it was the best Veneir could offer. A minute later she walked out. Later that day they would find that loaf of bread was gone. Unpaid for.

 

[Sir Horace]

Horace bit down on the soft, velvety crust that surrounded his bun. The scent wafted out into his nose, cinnamon. He smiled faintly, "I know it's not real cinnamon, I know it was mass produced in a vat somewhere off world and shipped here probably months ago in a barrel of similar tasting slime. I know the flavour has been sitting in the basement of this place for months, only to be added to a heated up piece of synthetic bread a minute ago when I ordered it. I know the cocktail of chemicals is tricking the G-protein-coupled receptors on the cell membrane of my taste buds into telling my brain I'm eating cinnamon. But I don't really care". Horace gave another smile and bit deep into his bun. He had a soft spot for baked goods, real or not. And he was almost definitely sure thats why he told his crew this was the best place to go.

 

[ladyaliciaaa]

Verona had commenced on making a list of the ship parts they were to obtain, the stiff letters scrawled out in front of her, projected through her sleek, metallic glasses.


"Hm, I hope you've had experience with assembling all these parts because I haven't an inkling about half of the stuff here," she directed the question to the pilot currently indulging himself on the attempted reproduction of bread, and shifted her eyes up at Horace before proceeding to stare at the document in front of her. Which, was invisible in the eyes of those beside her, at first, she was apprehensive toward the idea of using the glasses to enter such a complex cyber-verse. It was a foreign concept when she had first joined 'Quick Strides', Verona quickly grew accustomed to the device. It was a form of escape, when ever there was a certain someone causing a disturbance all you had to do was put those on and you'd be transported far away, to a distant place. It was odd in the beginning, to see files of citizens plugged in to their individual worlds.


She blinked thrice and the screen shrank and dissipated with a flash of white light. Verona slipped the glasses off, folded them up and polished what was left of the toast that lay on her plate.


"Now, are we all ready to go?"

 

[Sir Horace]

Horace made an an acknowledging sound in Verona's direction. And rapidly shoved the rest of his bun into his mouth. "Co'se Ve'ona. I know I c'n find us th' pa'ts, no wowwies" Horace forced a swallow, finally rid of the cinnamon treat, his hunger satisfied and his mind focused on the task at hand. "I'm ready to go anyway".

 

[0135Kelly]

Kelly listened to her crew chat amidst themselves, taking slow spoonfuls of her own meal. The spices filling her mouth and nose were euphoric after eating poorly preserved Rations for weeks. Even though it was her own fault for choosing to buy the cheaper option, but in her own defense, the Strides didn't have a working refrigeration unit. It just so happened that the unit was easily fixable and was repaired merely days after she bought the rations. Kelly filled her mouth with a last spoonful of curry before ascending to her feet to join Horace and Verona. She quickly flashed her Credit implant to the server and paid for the meals before joining them at the exit.


"That was delectable Mr Serket, I wish to return here some time in the future." She waved to the pilot in thanks and bowed her head a fraction. "Now may I ask where we are headed next so I may inform the Strides just in case our remaining crewmate wishes to join us."

 

[Sir Horace]

Horace spun to face his captain, "Well the first dozen things on this list are simple engine parts. Theres a shipwright down on Annaby Way which isn't far and will have all the pieces. Then we just need a Nitrogen Regulator, a Fission Tunnel and a 44-Pulse Equaliser."


Horace ran through his head the possibilities, the regulator would be easy to come by but it's important to get the right one, he'd need to see to that personally. The Equaliser was all but taken care of but the Fission Tunnel, that'd be hard to acquire legally.


Horace continued, "The Shipwright will probably have an N-Reg, I'll have a look through them well we collect the pieces. I sent our information to a technician last night who's been uploading it into the 44' Pulse Q, it'll be done by now so we can pick that up. As for the Fission Tunnel, I know someone who can help us find one".


Horace smiled uneasily, he believed Devons exact words were Don't bother me again. Worth a try, he thought weakly.

 

[0135Kelly]

Kelly nodded in acknowledgment, giving him permission to lead onwards, hoping that the parts required wouldn't bankrupt her. Her abilities of ship repair and maintenance were non-existent so her faith in Horace was all she had to rely on. She allowed him to lead on, occasionally hearing murmurs and mumbling about someone by the name of Devon. Perhaps he was the technician. She allowed her mind to wander somewhat during their journey, thinking back to her time in the Military and all of the places she wanted to revisit. Arturius XII was nice, I only killed 30 people there. Her thoughts were soon interrupted by the shuffling of a pickpocket trying to gain access to her bag.


"Excuse me? Could you please stop." The pickpocket froze, he had been found out. "Those are my private belongings." Kelly swatted his hand away from her bag and flicked him rather hard in the forehead, which sent the boy to the pavement, his bottom took the fall hard. Her head whipped round to her crew, giving a small shrug at them. "I was unaware there were going to be criminals around these parts of town." She directed this to Horace as to probe him for any more warnings about the townsfolk.

 

[ladyaliciaaa]

The group departed The Humming Bard well-fed and bearing satisfied looks on their faces, by mid day they had traversed what seemed like the entirety of the market with exhausted arms and sore throats from bargaining prices with local shop-keepers and a multitude of engineers, they hauled an armful of bags, with odd bits sticking out from the fabric.


Verona adjusted the straps of her back pack so that the weight would be lifted from her sore shoulders and did a strange hop to bring it higher up on her back. "Last thing on our list..would be the Fission tunnel and--!," her sentence was cut short by the Captain's shocked voice, she spun to turn toward Kelly as a street urchin reached his hands toward her sack. Verona lowered her head to find the boy sitting, dazed on the dirty ground, her eyes drank it all in, in a few seconds.


"He's just a kid, Captain..though you shouldn't be stealing from other folks, you hear?" she chided with a frown.


"I jus' wanted sum monee' for food, misses an' sir," his eyes settled on the ground and his lips bore a pout, her heart went out to the youngster.


The junction where Annaby Way becomes Albourne road was always just packed enough for Verona to keep a tight grip on her wallet, though by now the area’s thieves knew that they would garner better results from putting themselves in her path rather than rummaging through her pockets. Verona very rarely carries anything valuable with her, but she almost always has a few sweets tucked away and with a great deal of searching through her carrier she dug them out, a rustling of wrappers gave it away.


“Now, don’t go showing these off,” she murmured as she knelt down in order to discreetly pass the pitiful child a handful of whizzers, each in their own silver, transparent paper wrappings, her voice is low and warm, like she's sharing a secret.


"You'll have to apologize to Kelly for trying to pick her pockets," she stood up once more with a nod to the boy, who looked up at the three apologetically.


"Sorry fo' tryin' to pick yor' pockets misses..was onlee goin' to take a few credits is all.." his voice drifted to a stop "--would 'ave gotten away with it if it weren't fo' you noticin' so quickly," he huffed as he pocketed the candies before scrambling to his feet and then running off. Verona watched him scale a brick wall and look back at her with a toothy grin on his face, there was something in his hand. Something, round, that was glinting and shining as it caught the light. Soon after, he was on the other side and gone without a sight.

 

[0135Kelly]

The corners of her lips twitched upwards by a fraction although she shook her head slowly to hide the small smile, she found the boys attitude kind of cute regardless of his antics. Kelly could frown or scowl, deform as much of her facial features as much as humanly possible, but she could never contain the twitch in the corners of her lips when she was amused and after watching the boy harrumph off into the street; she was reminded of herself at a similar age stealing bread from the cafeteria for her squad-mates.


"You know-" A 9-year old Kelly began. "If you had refrained from punching 0104 in the face, we could be in there eating with the rest of the teams." She crossed her arms over her mud lathered tank top, her face scrunched into a scowl but her lips couldn't lie, she was amused. The rest of her 4 man squad gathered closely around her, the rain pelting down on them from what seemed to be an unending storm. The boy she was addressing seemed to ignore her scolding, instead choosing to stare into the mud at his feet, he was obviously ashamed of himself and felt the guilt of letting his team down pretty heavy. "0076-Dylan! I order you to look at me!" Kelly's voice thundered, although it was barely audible over the bucketing down rain around them. Dylan looked up from the mud to stare at his squad leader.


"I know Kelly, what I did was stupid. But he deserved it! Didn't you hear what he called you? He called you a-" Before Dylan could finish, a bread roll had flown into his open mouth. His eyes widened and focused through the rain, falling upon Kelly's grinning face, in her hands were three more bread rolls which she was now giving to their other two squad mates. "Where did you get these?!" His voice cracked in disbelief.


"While you wallowing in the rain, I sneaked into the larder and swiped a few rolls." She put her hands on her hips and grinned triumphantly. "I heard what he called me, but I don't care. He's just jealous that he's not part of our cool squad." She bit into her roll and chewed flamboyantly, Kelly's infectious smile spread throughout the squad quickly as the followed suit and ate their dinner in silence.

 

[Spiritdancer]

Saska sank her teeth into the warm, pillowy slice of bread, savouring every bite. Her cat-like eyes were half closed in pleasure. A contented sigh slipped its way out of her lips, echoed by the murmur of the wind. Her wandering took her through the winding cobbled paths, a multitude of people pushed past, their shoulders colliding against hers. She let her feet lead her through the familiar route, and found herself in a more shifty part of the market. Out of the corner of her eyes she glimpsed a disheveled young boy. Though still reveling in the pleasure of the delicacy that was stolen, her mind was as sharp as ever.


"Hey, you! Mesiah!" a knowing smile lingering on her lips. A black, spiky haired head popped out from behind the bags of rubbish. Startled green eyes gaped up at her, a stark contrast to the black soot smeared on his face.


"What 'ave you got there?" she pointed to his closed fist and swelling pockets.


"Not supposed' ta' tell you, but I've got some treats and credits," he beamed at her and held out his hand to show, Saska's eyes brightened at the sight of the Whizzers.


"Planning to share some?" she tilted her head with an eyebrow raised.


Mesiah shook his head indignantly and stuck his tongue out. "The lady told me not ta' go showin' these off," he waved them in front of her with a snicker. Saska darted her hand out, the candy wrapper creased in her hand and she smirked.


"Karma," she shot a wink his way whilst Mesiah scowled darkly back at her.


"I'll jus' go back and get some from the two misses and sir," he replied, his voice laced with bitterness. He could go ahead for all she cared, Saska had already received what she wanted.


"I'm off," she waved her fingers and turned to melt away into the crowd.

 

[Sir Horace]

Recognising the alley Horace pushed on, running ahead a little to look around the corner. There he stood, greasy hair, rough jacket, uneven stubble lit by the soft orange glow of a cigarette between his teeth, two large men leaning against the wall behind him. Horace sighed, Maybe he'll be reasonable?


"Hey! Devon! Good to-"


The smugglers head snapped up, he glared at Horace, "Serket, you damn waste of space, is there something wrong with your memory or is it part of whatever degenerate condition you have that makes you so bloody irritating, that you can't remember-"


As Horace's companions walked into the Alley to join him Devon stopped mid sentence, caught off guard. "Well, I see you have company" His words strained. As they walked into the dim light Devon smiled at them, a rather off-putting muscle movement to make anyone uncomfortable. He ran a gaunt hand through his unkept hair, "Ladies, how can old Devon help you?"

 

[0135Kelly]

Kelly's brow furrowed at the smuggler, his voice stabbed through the air like knives and his body language suggested ill intent towards the pilot. She folded her arms across her chest and scanned over his form, letting her implants monitor his vitals, he was showing signs of irritation and slight spikes of arousal. Ugh, Men. She took a deep breath, and looked towards Horace, gesturing for him to continue. She did not like this 'Devon'.

 

[Sir Horace]

Horace looked at his Captain apolitically, the sooner this were over the better.


"Devon I know you're a busy man so I'll get straight to it, what can I trouble you for a Fission Tunnel?"


Devon gave a short bark of ugly laughter, "You want my help? Just the other day you were begging for my scraps, which I kindly gave you. Now you want some serious tech? Don't make me laugh, you want a fission tunnel you put in an order with the Universal Transport Union like everyone else."


Devon was starting to annoy Horace, but he didn't have the 6-8 weeks nor the credibility to place an official order. "Devon, come on, what will it cost?"


Devon looked Horace up and down slowly, "Ten Thousand Credits", he gave another disgusting grin, "And an hour alone with your girlfriends".


Horace felt the artificial cinnamon bun turn in his stomach, there must be a better way to deal with scum like him. Horace subtly lowered his hand to his hip, where most people carry their small weapons. Placing your hand on a gun is universally recognized as a sign of violence, he wondered if his crewmates would pick up on, or approve of the suggestion.