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Futuristic Burning Sails [OPEN]

Roge went up to the group of people huddling together, seeing Amy and a new folks nearby. As the male asked about Anora, the Kercan planted a hand on his forehead. “She’s the leader of the Blood Corps, hunting down pirates back when she was with the Federation Marine Corps. As to why she has this vendetta with Valk and her kids, you’d have better luck asking them.” Roge concluded.
 
Easel and Damien, whom was still conscious and awake after the surgery thanks to the sheer amount of numbing agent that was used, both listened in on the TV as Typhon heard what was going on inside the Kingdom. It wasn't long before Damien reached over and grabbed his holoband, tapping on it a few times to bring up the news. It was true. The Reavers had been framed entirely for the destruction of VOC-1 and the following decimation of the surface of Vileas. The Frontier Militia was now condemning them, as well as condemning all other pirate groups, and now was beginning mass hunting of pirates in its borders. The Frontier Militia was no longer tolerant of pirates, it seemed.

"That bitch framed us..." muttered Damien, glancing to Typhon nearby. Easel spoke up after a moment. "Well...this is the first time I've acquired a bounty. Certainly an interesting feeling." she said, folding her arms as she watched the TV. "...You get used to it." said a voice faintly nearby, forcing the trio to look over. Valkyrie was awake, staring across the room at the body of Uric. She wasn't crying anymore, but her eyes appeared almost lifeless. Her facial expression was near blank.

Easel seemed surprised by Valkyrie being awake so soon, turning her head briefly towards Typhon before looking back to her boss. Before she could say anything, however, Valkyrie spoke again. "...Bring Zadra to me. I need to speak to her." she requested softly, without looking away from Uric's corpse. Easel nodded, before speaking through the comm link in her helmet. "Zadra, your presence is needed in the medical bay. Valkyrie is awake." Zadra's response came quickly, crackling through as a simple "Got it."

Easel then returned her attention to her boss. "...Do you need anything, ma'am? Something for pain?" she asked. "I can give you a dose of extra strength pain suppressants, should you wish."

Valk didn't respond for a few moments, still staring across the room. But eventually, she replied. "...No. I'll be alright."

Damien watched his mother for a few moments, before looking to Easel. "...Leave her be for now. If you're going to wake up that other woman, now would probably be a good time." Easel glanced back to Damien, before nodding. "...I will be here if you need me, ma'am." she stated in Valk's direction, before turning about and walking around to Typhon. She whispered as she passed him. "...Keep an eye on her."

Soon, she arrived at the side of the only survivor of the colony ship. She prepared herself, locating the needed chemicals and such, then soon got to work. Hopefully she didn't cause much of a fuss waking up.
 
"Oh hey, you made it." Amy noticed Roge as he walked up to them and gave an answer to Vance's question. "A bit more than that. Crazy doesn't even begin to cover it. She's one of those old school Upiry. Bites into people's necks to suck out the blood. Her goons like to do it too. Also has a list of atrocities to her name the size of your arm" She pointed to Vance "All in the name of killing pirates."

"Figure that logic out."
 
"Hunting... pirates?" Vance muttered to himself, "They murdered... who knows how many people on VOC-1. Innocent men, women, and children butchered as if they were nothing to them. My best friend was going to start a family..." he then continued louder, struggling to not choke up at the end. "His partner is now alone and scared out of her mind now... not knowing that he's dead because he helped our escape back there and paid the ultimate price. How am I supposed to tell her that the person she chose to spend the rest of her life with is... is gone?"

His sorrow then turned into anger as he balled up his free hand tight enough to cause his knuckles to turn white. "I wish I could've saved him." he spoke through gritted teeth, "He didn't deserve this."
 
Aboard The Ardent Pilgrim...

"One..."

As the voice finishes echoing in Katja's head, she opens her eyes to see that she's inside the cryopod where the doctor had initially put her. Something felt off though, surreal even, was she still asleep and just having a weird dream? The question seems to answer itself as the pod opens on its own and the bulkhead of the ship seems to shift and rumble. She's not sure what's going on but she climbs out onto the deck and looks towards where the bulkhead itself was moving the most. The ship lurches and the bulkhead peels apart to reveal the event horizon of a black hole. This wasn't a dream, this was a nightmare. Even though the ship underwent decompression from being ripped open like that, she remained impossibly planted to the deck, her hair whipping past her face as the ship ventilates its atmosphere. After the ship seems to peel away around her, fragments and chunks of it being sucked into the black hole, she's left just standing on a small section of decking with the pod she emerged from still behind her. In the empty vacuum of space as her little island in the void slowly and calmly drifts towards the black hole, she can only stare in horror as the rift yawns wide to swallow her like it had done so to the rest of the ship. She screams, but no sound is heard in the vacuum of space...

Aboard the Guillotine in the Present...

Katja's eyes snap open and she takes a sharp inhale of air as she wakes from the nightmare. Her eyes dart around rapidly as she realizes she's not in the pod now but seemingly on a medbay bed. Did the ship reach the destination? Was there a problem? Did her cryosleep go wrong? Why was she in the medbay? She could hear the monitors attached to her and her eyes finally settle upon the only other thing in her field of view. Some tall figure with a freaky helmet, she yelps and flails a little before flopping out of the bed and scrambling to her feet, dragging diagnostic equipment with her as she pulls against the tubes, hoses, and wires attached to her person. That's not human, this is either another nightmare or she's been abducted by aliens. She grasps at the bulkhead and tries to find something, anything, to defend herself. Her hands come up empty so she brings her fists up in front of her in the only way she knows, "HUORAN PENIKKA! KEEP AWAY FROM ME YOU FUCKING MONSTER!" She shouts at Easel, she looks ready to strike but she seems to have become too active too quickly and gets lightheaded, stumbling a bit and slumping over as she tries to keep her footing. She wavers drunkenly as she picks her fists up again, "Mulkku! I'll send you back to your home planet in pieces..." She's interrupted by her body putting the brakes on everything, she faints and falls over, presumably landing with a thud unless Easel intervenes.
 
Olivia flicked her wrist, and the lighter closed. Looks like a nice brand, too. Solid quality. It, along with the carton that both of them had drawn from, disappeared into one of the pockets of her overalls, as Olivia took a puff from her half-wasted cigarette. The second one that she'd gone through in the hour. Unsurprisingly, it was kinda stressful of a time for her. "Well. Exceptional times, or something, right?" Even past the half-hearted smile she gave, it was pretty obvious that she was, if nothing else, pretty tired, if not totally buzzed out from the stress of the past twelve-or-so hours. Her hand ran through he hair just before that... weird, suit wearing little kid came up to offer them... special candy. Uh-huh. "...Yeah, no thanks, I don't take the hard shit."

Then another chick came up, and then some croc-looking guy-- like, sheesh. What is this, turning into some sort of party already? She took another puff as everyone was starting to huddle around.

"...who is this Anora?"

"Fuck if I know. I'm in the dark same as you about who the hell she is. Save for her and her crew being some terrorist piece of shit." Puff puff. She dropped the cigarette onto the metal grating, stamping it out with her boot. "That, and she effectively just hand-signed me the contract to start working for this pirate band. Y'know, for better or worse." She had a brief pause of looking down at 'the big man' scrunching himself up into a ball of anger, before looking over to everyone else. "...Olivia, by the way. You're all...?"
 
Shelby was disappointed that no one wanted any of his special snacks, but he supposed that meant more for him. He sat on the ground beside the group and rummaged in his backpack for a little red tin, with stickers all over it. He popped the lid and fished out what appeared to be a cracker, or cookie, in the shape of a little elephant. Part of the game was not knowing which was a regular cracker, or which had something extra added to it. He cradled it in both hands before nibbling on it. Definitely a regular one. He could usually taste the colors before they came on. For now, it was probably best to stay sober.

More gathered around, and he listened quietly as the spoke about the people who had committed the murders. Blood Corps, that name was familiar again. He'd probably seen it on the news, maybe read about them for a report he had forgotten about. So much was going on in the galaxy it was hard to keep track of everything, and on Castilia, things could be news one day, and old, forgotten, and unimportant the day after.

After Olivia introduced themself, Shelby took another bite from the cracker and swallowed, happy that it was filling but still a little miffed it didn't have the colorful ride he wanted. "I'm Shelby. I do... uh... videos. And reviews. And I can dance."

---

Elsewhere, on Castilia
Sokko Atoll


"Yeah, I'm not seeing it. There have to be half a million blonde dolts running around this sector alone, you think this little twerp is the one? Come on, man. It's like you're just trying to get iced. Ending up a middle manager's new kidney donor isn't a promotion, bud," Molly said, leaning against the faux-wood desk with a cup of steaming coffee. It was early morning planetside, but they were coming off a long night shift. She'd be in bed in a few hours - with luck - but coffee was a morning ritual, always. A cool breeze was coming in through the bay windows of the Data Studio, open to the seafront where the white sandy beach met the crystal clear waves of the endless sea. The moisture barriers in the windows worked harder than they did, in retrospect. The barrier was like a shield, letting air, light, physical objects and all pass through, but moisture droplets struck the invisible wall and dripped down the condensation rods - which helped feed the aircon units, further supported by broad leaf fans. For a near-tropical world, it wasn't always hot, typically being quite cool with a good breeze, but today was a shaping up to be a warm one. And in a Data Studio, it was always warm. Processing the data of millions of people all at once in a never ending process made the rooms hotter than the beach most days.

Marco tapped the flat screen in front of the desk, in which a dozen more lined the wall, supplemented with holoprojectors. On each and every single one, the events at VOC-1. And a particular figure that tripped the pattern recognition software. "The algorithm doesn't lie, Molly. We're getting a near perfect match on some frames. It could be him," Marco insisted. Molly shook her head. "Yeah, it could be. Just like the other dozen times. People have faces, Marc. We all look the same to a computer at the end of the day. Two eyes, cheeks, a nose, a mouth." The system ran back a number of spliced frames specifically of the figure in question. Marco paused on a particular one. "Just... just look at that. It looks like him most of the time. And besides, I don't see a bust on that girl, do you?"

Molly rolled her eyes. "Jesus, Marc, remind me what year it is again? Come on." The two data miners continued their debate until one of the machines bleeped. Molly walked over and pulled out a thin printout and frowned. "Well... posture and gait recognition did come in with an 80+ match rating," she said, placing the coffee down. "But that doesn't change anything. Since when does an idol know how to shoot a gun, and when did they start falling in with pirates? Real pirates, I mean, not some market ploy."

"Hell if I know, you don't argue with the computer. And besides, you know they send the corporate kids to the academies. They probably teach them how to liquidate a company starting with the health benefits first by the time they're ten. Listen - all we can do is flag it, and send it up the line. If its nothing, no harm done. Maybe we might get a bonus for working so hard." They both paused, then laughed. "Okay, so maybe no bonus, but look at it this way. If it is him, and someone else flagged it and we didn't...." They paused again, but for a different reason. Molly relented, and went to her station.

"Fine, fine. I'll compile the file and send it to the Crown. It's their ball now." She sat down in her chair, spun once in circle for good luck, and tapped the keyboard. "Done. Almost feel sorry for the kid if it's him."
 
Typhon pulls up a stool and takes a seat right by the operating table Valkyrie is laying on. He first looks over at her, inspecting his handiwork a little but also checking her again with his scanner to make sure she's stable. Normally at this time, he'd ask his patients how they feel now. One look at Valkyrie's face is all he needs to let him know how she feels, however. She's not gonna get any better this way. Seems like it's time for his impromptu psychologist training to go to work once more. He takes a quick glance over at Uric's body before looking back at her, leaning over and with a hand on the table near her head.

"He seemed like a good man, Captain." he says softly. "I did what I could to keep him alive..." Typhon pauses for a moment, checking again if Valk is still awake enough to hear him. "He wanted to tell you something, however. I promised to him I would tell you in case he didn't make it." He gets a little closer to her.

"... He loved you, Valkyrie. Very much. And he loved Damien and Lauren too. And he wished very much to have been able to spend more time with you." Giving her some space, he takes a deep breath. "The days forward... will be hard without him, yes, but remember this when we strike at Anora. You too, Damien-"
"HUORAN PENIKKA! KEEP AWAY FROM ME YOU FUCKING MONSTER!"
Typhon snaps upward at the disturbance and almost jumps out of his stool too. Seems like Easel had a patient of her own, and they don't seem too happy to be here. Maybe she's afraid of needles or something. Fortunately, she falls over before she does anything stupid, and Typhon relaxes himself.

"Sedatives." he says to Easel, and points at a specific drawer nearby.
 
Valkyrie quietly listened to Typhon, continuing to gaze across the room. Why did Anora specifically target him? What did he even do to her? And why frame them for VOC-1's destruction? Was it to just prevent them to seeking revenge? It'd take a hell of a lot more than a bunch of pissed off galactic factions to stop them. This would end either in Anora's death, or her own. Suddenly, the woman from the colony ship cried out, falling out of bed and eventually passing out. It didn't faze Valk, whom seemed uncaring about all that was occurring around her. Damien, however, snapped his head about to watch the situation.

Easel quickly swooped in, using her cybernetic helmet-mounted arms to catch the woman as she passed out. Using her free arms, she carefully grabbed the wires and tubes still connected to Katja, pulling the equipment back over to the bed and laying her down in it. Damien nearby simply cocked an eyebrow, eyeing the woman. "...Yeah, you're probably going to have your hands full." he stated after a moment. Easel glanced up to him, before looking back to the woman as she reattached any loose tubes or wires. "She will need some rehabilitation to get her muscles back working correctly. At most, it will take two weeks before she's up and moving about normally. You all should be recovered in a few days, thanks to the high dose of nanites I gave you." She stepped over and retrieved the sedatives from the drawer, moving back afterwards to Katja and giving her a shot. She'd be asleep for the rest of the evening. Tomorrow, she'd try and talk to her. Without her helmet.

Eventually, Zadra arrived in the medical bay. She moved straight to Valkyrie's side, and for the first time, Valkyrie diverted her attention away from Uric's body. Her head drifted around, her eyes locking onto Zadra's. "...Tell Roku to take us back to Sielia, once we have all we need from the colony ship. Get Slade, Chang, and the other captains to meet us there. Keep the survivors of VOC-1 comfortable for now. I'll have Slade take care of them after we talk. The others that came with us, the ones that helped me and the others...bring them here. I need to talk to them."

Zadra nodded. "Alright...there's someone else here to see you too. They came with you from VOC-1, clamped to the Mordred's roof in a fighter...It's Eve. She said she needed to speak to you urgently." Valk stared at Zadra for a few moments, before speaking again. "...Bring her to me too."
 
"You're gonna have to find the strength to tell her. The longer you wait, the worse it's going to be for her." Amy placed her hand on Vance's shoulder "Don't tell her about dying a hero's death just yet. Wait for the shock to ware off so she can process the information. Remember, you're going to be her anchor, so be prepared for a storm when you deliver the news." That's about the only good advice she could give him. Everything she learned herself over the years of work, being on both sides of the conversation.

...Olivia, by the way. You're all...?
I'm Shelby. I do... uh... videos. And reviews. And I can dance.
"Just call me Amy." She looked to Olivia and then to Shelby as she introduced herself. "A dancer. Not the first one I've worked with." She shrugged. She narrowed her eyes a bit "Why do you look so familiar to me?"
 
While the others watched and discussed the broadcasts implicating the Reavers for the destruction of VOC-1, Vixaya lay in a bed nearby in a daze, numbed from the painkillers as nanites worked on closing her flesh wounds. She was lucky to have not been hit in the bone, which would have hampered her movement and perhaps prevented her escape. Still, as she watched the doctored footage play out on the screen, she knew that her very survival was a mixed blessing. She watched herself gunning down civilians indiscriminately, and in her own, foggy recollection of events, she wasn't sure if it had happened or not. The moment the shooting began, she was no longer in control of her actions. Maybe she had killed innocents. Maybe she had killed a lot of them. What had she done to survive?

This was her life. It had always been like this, for as long as she could remember. The feeling of a gun in her hand, its incessant whine as the plasma coils lit the air itself on fire- it was an extension of herself. Years of training and fighting, of simulations and real-life shootouts, all blended together after a while. Her father did everything he could to remove her personality. His punishments were constant. She could never cry for the dead, nor for herself. She learned not to speak her mind, and to follow his orders, always. And when he had taken all of her feelings away, and all of her words, soon, she had forgotten how to think, once a gun or a flight stick was in her hand. All of her instincts were rewritten for the battlefield, and she could move and act without remorse.

Even now, as she watched the station plummet into the planet's surface, knowing the scope of the atrocity and yet being unsure of the extent of her involvement, she was unmoved. She forced herself to think harder. She could barely remember the chain of events, but slowly they came to her: the armored mercenaries, the civilians evacuated onto the Reavers' ship... her memories were different than what she saw. But the others in the medbay were speaking the human language, preventing her from learning the true nature of the situation. Lolling her head to the side, she noticed her translator was plugged in and fully-charged by this point, and with a throbbing and tingling arm, she reached for it, turning it on before slipping it into her coat pocket.

Their words were repeated to her in the Kanad language with a tinny echo. They had all been framed for a major crime, it seemed. She closed her eyes for a moment; there were some ugly thoughts and strong emotions that were tugging at her subconscious, but in a second, they were gone again, buried away. When she opened her eyes again, there was nothing on her mind except food. She hadn't eaten for most of the day now. She slung her legs off the side of the bed and forced herself to stand, despite the pain.
 
"Why do you look so familiar to me?"

"H-huh?" Shelby glanced around, finishing the last of the cracker. Despite being tired, he still felt a bit hungry, too, though the nagging sensation of something more mind opening continued poking at his thoughts. He feared he would start the withdrawals again if he wasn't careful and monitored his steady usage. They had given him so much for so long that without it, it just made him... sick.

"Oh, um. I don't know! Maybe you have seen my reviews. Or my articles. I'm a journalist, y'know. I have a lot of subscribers. For my articles," he added, face reddening. He was tired.
 
"Hm, might have a point, Amy. Twinkles does look a bit familiar, but I think I've seen about a dozen exotics in my neighborhood in Elippe." He scratched his neck, trying to search through his selective memory, but time did no great things to the father. The only similar humans to the reporter were the Vardaeriens, his annoying rich neighbors. But other than that, he was at a lost. Roge turned to the reporter, leaning forward. "Name's Roge Igualli. What exactly do you write about, Shelby?" He narrowed his eyes.
 
Easel glanced over towards Vixaya just in time to see her slip off of the medical bed, which forced her to turn and direct her full attention to the Kanad. "Please, take it easy. You're nowhere close to fully healed, and too much stress might reopen the wounds you've sustained." she cautioned, stepping quietly over to where the Kanad was now standing. "...Do you need something? More pain suppressants? Something to drink? Food?" she added, examining the Kanad.

By now, Zadra had left the medical bay, proceeding straight for the hangar bay. As she walked, she tapped on her holoband. "Roku. Boss says that we're heading back to Sielia once we're through here." she stated. Roku's voice flowed through her holoband in response. "Is the boss okay? Lauren and Damien?" "Yeah. They're resting now. They'll be up and about soon enough. Just make sure we're ready to jump once everything's brought aboard from the colony ship. Last report I got said that they're about ninety percent done. Just gotta move over the stuff from the armory." she stated.

"Alright. I'll make sure everything's ready to go. Just give me the signal when we're ready to hit warp." said Roku. "Also, send word to Slade, Chang, and the other captains. Boss wants everyone back on Sielia for a meeting."

"Got it." The conversation concluded, as Zadra tapped on her holoband once more. After moving through the various corridors between the medical bay and the hangar where the Mordred was parked, Zadra soon found Eve and Aesha. "Gather up that bunch that helped out with getting off the colony. Valk's awake. She wants to talk to them." she said. Aesha nodded, quickly turning about and jogging off towards where the group was hanging out. Zadra then shifted her attention to Eve. "She wants to see you too."
 
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"You're gonna have to find the strength to tell her. The longer you wait, the worse it's going to be for her." Amy placed her hand on Vance's shoulder "Don't tell her about dying a hero's death just yet. Wait for the shock to ware off so she can process the information. Remember, you're going to be her anchor, so be prepared for a storm when you deliver the news."

Vance's nod signaled his gratitude for her kind words, as he took a deep breath and set out his cigarette with his foot. When Olivia asked for names and everyone began to introduce themselves Vance spoke up after Roge: "Name's Vance. I am... well, I was a soldier. I don't know what I am anymore apart from someone who doesn't know where they belong nowadays."
 
"Hm, might have a point, Amy. Twinkles does look a bit familiar, but I think I've seen about a dozen exotics in my neighborhood in Elippe." He scratched his neck, trying to search through his selective memory, but time did no great things to the father. The only similar humans to the reporter were the Vardaeriens, his annoying rich neighbors. But other than that, he was at a lost. Roge turned to the reporter, leaning forward. "Name's Roge Igualli. What exactly do you write about, Shelby?" He narrowed his eyes.

Oh, jeez, now two people! Shelby took a deep breath, letting it out smoothly as he tried not to shrink under the gaze of the big alien. "Well, Mister Igualli, I am a crypto-journalist on the deepnet. I do reviews for venues, like restaurants and bars. And also some news stuff. I actually have a recording," he said, tapping his offline camera on his backpack shoulder, "of what happened on VOC-1, for what good that will probably... not do. But I could write an article about that. Though if the news thinks I'm a terrorist now... maybe not...."

"Anyways. I'm one of the most subscribed-to female deepnet crypto-journalists for neon lounges and music reviews, too. So you've probably heard of me from the little fish mirroring my work on the regular net. That's just, like, not my style." Of course, he knew it wasn't that great of a cover on account of it being relatively paper thin. His flight came rather without extravagant planning, so he had to make it up on the run. Quite a few people had expressed how familiar he looked to them, which wasn't surprising. You couldn't be the top idol of a luxury-commercial planet without some people noticing you around the galaxy. Of course, there were a lot of lookalikes. Not just naturals, but all those who followed his fashion. Being recognized by a super-fan would probably be worse than anyone with passing familiarity to the starpop idol scene, since at least he could play it off. Fans could be... difficult to deal with.
 
Kalashi, After helping herself to a large sum of Credits in the smoldering office, along with various other valuable items within the building. She carefully stalked through the ruined barracks, nothing there besides numerous bodies. She then carefully made her way towards the Armory nearby. She kept to the shadows cover of shadows to keep out of sight of the marauding Blood Corps Killteams.

Once she reached the Armory. It was a grizzly sight of a chaotic firefight, walls scorched, and bullet holes. It would seem that the surviving militiamen got cornered and made a last stand here.

Sadly, it seemed that most of the Armory's wares were either stolen or destroyed by the time she had arrived. She did find a half-dying quartermaster slump up against the wall. Dozens of bodies of both Milita and Blood Corps troops dotted around him. He was mumbling something about his god or whatever spiritual dribble he clung to in the last moments of his life, holding his right hand on some golden religious object. His other hand was on the grip of a Mark II IP Heavy Kinetic Cannon. Its belt empty, and it's a barrel boiling red.

Kalashi decided to slowly decloak in front of him, her hands raised and wide open for him to see.

"Hey... you know of any way of this burning mess?" Kalashi asked quietly while slowly walking up towards him. The quartermaster stared at her with his bloodshot eyes, clenching his teeth as he willowed in pain.

"Everywhere, bastards hit us... Everywhere." He said with a heavy grunt, blood dripping from his mouth and gut.

"We, we were trying to head to the... the hangers..." He muttered before he started to drift before Kalashi lightly kicked his shoulder to keep him awake.

"Yeah... A few of them are still," His words getting more and more slurred and quiet. "Unscathed..." He said before expiring, his head going limp.

"Great..." Kalashi grumbled under her breath. Real fucking a waste of my time. Like I didn't already think of that. Kalashi thought before reaching down and searching his body, grabbing his wallet and that shiny piece of metal.

Real fucking waste of my time, like I, couldn't have thought of that. Kalashi

She looked at it over for a few seconds; it was in the shape of a Crescent Moon, genuine Alcaran gold too. It looked to be worth a good hand full of credits. She snagged it along with some grenades and more ammo for her OBN Magnum.

All it was just a few scattered magazines of Anti-Personal Slugs and multiple Hand-loads. The OBN-391s themselves have already stripped for parts long ago. They were about three Frags and two concussion grenades. She stored them on her lower belt, hope wouldn't have to use them, but her cloak was giving out. Always have to prepare for a Plan B after all.

Before going out of the Armory and into the bloodstained and body-filled halls, she took a shoot of Tox to give a much-needed pick-me-up to keep her going.

Nonetheless, Kalashi slowly made her way out of the Armory. Kalashi was making sure to her distance from the Blood Corps Killteams that were flooding the area. It seems like that they were working hard and fast. They were slaughtering any poor bastard that got into their sights indiscriminately.

Kalashi kept to herself. The urge to pop one with a well-placed shot to the back of the neck was temping. It was in her best interest to keep on moving.

She continued moving throughout the halls. Scattered civies, security, and militiamen seem to have the same idea, rushing their way down towards the hangers. Blood Corps Killteams had already set-up positions, allowing their machineguns to gun down these people with ease in a refueling station, a choke-point leading to the hangers-on this side of the station.

Kalashi soon noticed that her cloak was starting to fade. Soon, it dawned on her that a more direct approach was needed.

After getting to some solid cover, Kalashi took a moment to scan her surroundings. She was able to find the machine gunners' positions by tracing the trajectory of their shots.

She took a few moments to gauge the range before using the last of her cloak's energy to get into positions, and then as a new bunch of civvies ran into their crosslines.

Using their bloodlust to her advance, she set them to both detonate at the same time and tossed both of the concussion grenades right at the gunners' feet. Blasting them to pieces before leaping into action.

Dashing forward, Kalashi pressed her advantage by sending a squash-head straight into a confused spotter's throat, breaking his neck instantly. She then threw a Frag grenade with her off-hand at a tight grouping of several Blood Corps troops. The Grenade denoted on impact, greatly injuring and maiming most of them.

While momentary scattered, the rest of the Killteams tried to retaliate with rapid-fire towards the advancing Kalashi. She fired back with a few shots from her Handcannon. Her squash-heads sundering their soft-armor and sending flying them onto the ground in either crippling pain from their rib-cages being shattered or dead.

The few remaining managed to get a few glancing blows off on her armor. The worst being a blast of plasma slagging her left shoulder plate. Kalashi pushed aside the pain and had her cybernetic body remoting detach the smoldering piece of armor as she dashed from side to side. Downing another trooper with a shot straight through their helmet's visor and causing their face to burst into a bloody mess of skull-fragments and brain-matter.

Once at close range, the five remaining Blood Corps troopers disregarded their combat carbines in favor of drawing out the mono-molecularly sharpen claws on their suits while their Captain drew her Thermal Sabre. While looking like a primitive sword, once drawn, it emitted a bright, fiery flash as the blade burned in the air.

Kalashi dashed to her side as three leaped out with claws swinging, while another fired his off their pistol at the lightning-fast Cyborg. Kalashi took a few hits against her armor from the handgun while dodging the attacking Troopers.

While a bit rattled from hits, she leaped back and allowed one of the Troopers to charge forward, his hands wide in the air as he moved in to strike her.

Kalashi lined up one last shot from her hand cannon, going straight into their chin; the impact made a loud crack as it dislocated his head from the rest of his spine with the force of the squash-head sent him flying backward.

As the two realized that she had fired her six-shot. They both quickly rushed to tear her apart with her claws; Kalashi again played on this, swiftly holstering her hand cannon and allowing one of them to get just close enough so Kalashi could rip out her Vibro arm blade at him.

Slashing directly at his arms as they came down to strike her. She managed to cut off both of his hands before dashing to her left as the other attempted to double team her.

The other Trooper threw his claws at Kalashi's arm as she raised it to protect her chest, tearing off some of the outer armor plates before Kalashi followed with a quick jab of the blade to the heart, killing him quickly.

As the last Trooper prepared to fire at her, Kalashi swiftly used her off-hand to grab the other side of the dead Trooper's body, using it as a meatshield to block on the oncoming fire.

Before the last Trooper could have further reacted, Kalashi violently threw the lifeless body at him, causing him to fall to the ground.

As Kalashi marched forward with her blade drawn. The Captain swung at her back with Thermal Saber, the impact hitting one of her upper legs and causing the Cyborg to fall to the ground.

The Captain walked close enough to look into Kalashi's eyes, able to make out that she was a Kanad under all the cybernetics.

[It's Time to die, you filthy cold-blood...] The Captain muttered under her breath as she raised her Thermal blade high in the air.

Kalashi managed to evade a fatal blow of the Captain's blade by rolling towards the right and getting back onto her feet. The Captain threw another strike towards Kalashi with the Cyborg just barely rising her arm blade up in time to parry the strike.

She dodged and weaved to her left and right as Captain unleashed a fury of blows at the Kanad. Throw strike after strike at her until she tired herself just enough for Kalashi to threw a quick jab from into the Captain's face, causing the Blood Corps Officer to stumble back.

Kalashi quickly pressed with the extra breathing room with a kick to her chest, sending her to fall straight back. The Captain fell on top of the dead body that had pined the other alive Trooper, still struggling to break free of his comrade's corpse.

She looked into the Captain's eyes, seeing fear in her bright red eyes through her cracked visor. Out of breath from the kick as she tried to reach for her sidearm.

Kalashi plunged her arm blade into her chest, stabbing the Captain, again and again. The arm blade going through the lifeless body on the third stab and into pinned Trooper by the fourth.

After the filth strike, Kalashi exhaled loudly and pulled herself up. The pain of her injures finally getting her as she grabbed her side. It seemed that one of the shots hit her mechanical interior.

Daunted by the prospect of not dying in this shithole, Kalashi pushed herself past the pain and took another shot of Tox. A higher than usual dosage this time, use needed it to stay conscious and able.

The sounds of radio chatter rung out from the Captain's helmet, reinforcements were on route to her position.

"Fuck..." Kalashi Muttered to herself; she quickly drew her Handcannon and started loading those Tungsten rounds from earlier. Yet, as she looked around for something, anything, she did find some luck.

A few large drums of starship fuel destined for some now destroyed freighter was laying on a nearby motor-cart, with the addition of a well-timed frag grenade or two. Would be enough to cause fire big enough to burn down most of this section and keep those bastards at bay.

Sure enough, Kalashi managed to jury rig the drums with the grenades set on proximity detonation. A nasty surprise for some real nasty assholes.

After setting it all up, Kalashi quickly ran down towards the hangers. Most were either aflame or empty. Kalashi kept on pushing forward, looking for any docked ship that was space-worthy.

Kalashi soon found a massive line, crowds with tons of people all around gathering around this one hanger bay.

Kalashi carefully crept forward, putting her cloak back on to minimize their appearance and blend into the crowd. She eventually figured who's vessel this all was once she managed to get a sight of it.

Fucking really? Kalashi thought to herself as she saw the logo The fucking Blackwell Reavers?

However, there were no other options as the station emergency lightning flash red all over the corridors. It seemed that those vampire bastards had set the reactors to overload. Fuck, I guess there really is no kill like overkill is there?

Nonetheless, Kalashi begrudgingly put away her pride and kept her head down, limbing along in her concealing cloak.

Kalashi kept pace with the rest of them till she found the right time to sneak aboard the ship's crates within the hanger and started working on fixing her damaged frame out of anyone's sight.

She spent the next few hours fixing up her body, recharging her cloak using what few extra charge-packs she had on her. Focusing on making sense of this whole mess she has found herself now in.

However, as the orders to move the group within the hanger rang out from the Reavers. Kalashi took a few moments to consider her options.

Maybe this was the time to collect the bounties on the heads of the Reavers? No, that's just plain suicidal, at least for now.

Hide here till she could steal a fighter? No, too risky and especially in her current state.

She concluded that the best option was to blend in with the Reavers and keep her cover.

At least for now.

She then wrapped her now half-charged cloak around her metal frame and proceeded to follow with the rest of the crowd. Making sure not to draw any unnecessary attention to herself while trailing along.

However, once events started to explain themselves and the sight of herself on the holo screen blowing up a refueling station and killing crowds of civvies. The greater situation soon dawned on her.

As her visor displayed countless messages about her status and her bounty exploded. The impact caused her to freeze still with one thought now on her mind.

Fuck...


----

Pearl was still unconscious. Their body locked in a vacuumless chamber, allowing the unique Sanghvi physique to perform its own natural healing with Easel nanites assisting where they could.

Meanwhile, Gorg, despite their serious injures, had recovered enough to stand guard at Pearl's chamber while still covered in bandages and casts.

They were nonetheless persistent despite their serious condition. For Gorg had been sworn to Taur for many years, and an oath forged in blood would only end for Gorg once the Trogg had finally spilled theirs one last time.
 
Nathalie, whom had eventually changed her mind, approached Vance and the others just as Shelby mentioned a recording. "Stop talking," said Nat as she neared them, crossing her arms.
"Go back to the part about a recording. You mean to tell us you have a potential way of clearing us?" Asked Nathalie, eyebrow raised.

She glanced briefly towards Vance, nodding towards him, before focusing her icy gaze on Shelby once more.
 
Nathalie, whom had eventually changed her mind, approached Vance and the others just as Shelby mentioned a recording. "Stop talking," said Nat as she neared them, crossing her arms.
"Go back to the part about a recording. You mean to tell us you have a potential way of clearing us?" Asked Nathalie, eyebrow raised.

She glanced briefly towards Vance, nodding towards him, before focusing her icy gaze on Shelby once more.

"W-well, yeah. But what good is that? They'll just say this is altered when the net is already filled with the fake video. No one will believe it," he said, shrugging.
 
Soon enough, Aesha arrived where the small group had gathered up. She listened in as she walked up, overhearing Nathalie and Shelby talking about footage that Shelby had recorded. She spoke as soon as she stepped up next to Nathalie. "...Even if it doesn't help us at the moment, could be useful. Hang on to it." she said, glancing to Shelby before looking to the others. "Boss is awake in the medical bay. She wants to talk to all of you. Follow me, I'll take you to her."




"What happened?" demanded a rough sounding voice on the other end of the comms line. The voice belonging an armor clad, rough looking, gray-haired man displayed on the holographic screen. Slade. His arms were folded, his one remaining eye almost staring a hole through Roku. On another screen right next to his before Roku was a woman, dressed in a black trench coat and wearing a rough looking captain's hat with a pair of goggles resting on the brim. There was a blank patch on the front, where a Sol navy patch had been, hidden behind the goggles. Chang. She was also glaring at Roku, wondering the same thing as she shoved her hands in her coat pockets.

"Blood Corps attacked and destroyed VOC-1. Boss and her kids are in the medical bay, and we've got a bunch of average joes and guards hanging out in the mess hall. Boss wants you two and the other captains to meet us back at Sielia." responded Roku, sitting back in his chair.

Chang spoke up a moment later, glancing off to the side of the screen. "Fine. We'll finish up here, and head in that direction. Got two Sol cruisers left to scuttle." she said, her odd accent bleeding into her speech. Slade nodded. "We'll cancel the operation near Tredet. Its probably for the best, since Kosokom hasn't really been up to much in the past two weeks. Heading back asap. I'll let the others know to head back too."

And a moment later, Slade and Chang disappeared from the screens as the connections were terminated. Roku let his hands rest on the arms of his hovering chair, glancing to the others on the bridge. He never liked talking to the other captains. Really, he didn't like talking to anyone. He preferred just doing his job, flying this big ass ship around the cosmos. Taking orders from Valk, or dealing with Lauren's teenager-level insults. Damien was usually quiet, which always put him on edge when he was on the bridge.
 
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"Oh, she's awake?" Amy asked rather surprised at how quick it happened. "She looked really beat up, so I thought it would be longer. You guys must have a really good doctor."
 
"[I'm hungry; I'll rest after I've eaten,]" Vixaya replied to the stranger. She seemed uncomfortable with Easel's level of concern. "[...This isn't the first time I've been shot,]" she added, tipping her head as if to draw attention to her damaged ear. As she continued to speak, the hesitation left her voice and her tone became matter-of-fact. "[I also took plasma to the chest, once. We didn't have nanites where I came from. The pain is... fine.]"
 
"She looked really beat up, so I thought it would be longer. You guys must have a really good doctor."

"Two of them, actually. You met one already. The other was the tall woman with the weird helmet with arms. Her name is Easel." responded Aesha, as she glanced to Amy. She motioned for everyone to follow her, and soon the group was on the move. Departing from the hangar and making their way through the bowels of the massive battleship on the way to the medical bay.



As Easel and Vixaya spoke, Valk quietly listened in. She was still staring off into space, but that didn't stop her from voicing a command. "Easel, let her go eat." she stated. Then, she finally tilted her head in their direction, her eyes drifting to look at Vixaya. "Return here when you finish. You and the others all need to know my intentions going forwards." she said, her voice almost shifting into a monotone. She looked almost dead inside.

Easel pointed towards the large doorway leading out of the medical bay. "Go outside, and turn right. Down at the end of the hall is a seating area. There's an automatied kitchen there for patients." she stated.
 
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Vixaya listened to the translation, stiffening up almost as if she were standing at attention, but not quite so formal. She nodded sharply at Valkyrie's request for her to return shortly before walking away with a barely-noticeable, but nonetheless visible, limp.

After a short walk, she was able to find an automat built into the wall of the ship in a small seating area near the medbay. She was amazed to see the doors of the machine were unlocked, and that food could be freely taken. It was so plentiful, she nearly had the urge to stuff her pockets, but she knew it wasn't necessary- this food would still be available later when she needed it. She still wasn't used to food security.

Besides, her coat pockets were still disgustingly crusted with dried blood and such, a mix of her own and the dead mercenary's which fell on her. She would eventually get it laundered, but for now, she didn't care about the sight or smell. She just didn't want anything so unpleasant reaching her mouth.

The food was all unfamiliar dishes from the southwest of the galaxy. None of it looked particularly appetizing until she noticed a bowl of rainbow-colored cereal flakes. She stared at it a while, before opening the door and wafting the enticingly-sweet smell. She took it, and the small carton of unknown fluid next to it, and limped back to the medbay.
 
Kalashi was among the crowd of civies tucked back in the hanger, pacing back and forth. Her steely hands gripping onto her waist tightly, one on her OBV Magnum with another on her last Frag grenade, primed to explode on impact. Constantly glancing at the pirates that had surrounded her.

Shit, shit, shit, Kalashi repeatedly thought to herself as her body twitched from the thought of being in the belly of the beast. All alone with all her former "Co-Workers" taking contacts on her head, with everyone from that bouncy bitch Starlight most likely being the one to come after her first.

Taking her out wouldn't be too hard, a two-prong-trap, a couple of hostages, and a few explosives here and there... The old trick has made for the bloody end of countless foolhardy rookies. Kalashi had been on the receiving end of it a dozen times. She could easily use it to take care of the first few coming after her...

Fuck, that would require a hold-out first of all. Somewhere to hold out, and well...

Wait... Kalashi thought to herself, bringing her walking about to a sudden halt.

These bastards...

While Kalashi loathed pirates, lawless scum that raped and pillaged on those that had made something of their lives. Violent marauders ruining lives in the name of greed, just like those Elysian Fucks.

She truly hated them, almost sympathetic to Aurora's crusade against them, almost...

Yet, her livelihood as a bounty hunter was over. The B.C.B has already blacklisted her almost instantly in the hour. It seemed that the only option left...

It was to fly the Black Flag, so to speak...

Kalashi tried to think it over for some time before realizing that she saw a vaguely familiar not too long back on this ship. A Redhead Human in that crowd with all those other Reavers...

She used what limited access she had left to the B.C.B system to follow on her suspiciously. She would quickly prove to be correct.

Amy Koronova, I see you are in this mess too... She thought to herself...

Good, at least somewhat reasonable face in this wretched hive of scum and villainy.

Kalashi quickly made her down to a small gathering of what seemed to be mostly humans, along with some ugly primitive creature. She quietly sneaked up behind them, watching them afar as she was able to identify Amy and Aesha. A good bounty was on her head but collecting that now wasn't the best course of action in her present circumstances.

She slowly trailed behind them as they walked further down the ship. Taking a good mental image of it all in case of things when south.

Once, they made their way down a long enough corridor, free of any guards. Kalashi would make her move.

"Amy Koronova..." She would say softly yet loud enough for the rest of them to hear her.

There she stood dead in the hallway with her right hand on her holster and using her off-hand to pull down her hood so they all could get a look at her as she stared back coldly at them.
 

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