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Futuristic Burning Sails [OPEN]

Roge followed Aesha as they intended to meet Valk in the Medbay. Meanwhile, Belka went over to a nearby transmission line, entering the contact frequency to Kanan’s Hideout, which was a base located on an independent planet within the Renegade Quadrant. Within seconds, Belka saw an Artisynth wearing a black hood, glowing yellow eyes. Behind him were a bunch of art sculptures and a Kanad laying on a sofa. “Hello, Belka Vella. I see you have decided to contact us, why, I have no idea, but perhaps you wanted something from me.”

Belka raised a V sign at both of them, sighing. “We were on VOC-1 near Villeas and barely escaped when the shooting happened. Roge and I are fine, but we saw the bounties on our heads. It’s not looking great.” She explained while Kanan snacked on a protein puddy, taking in the information and gave a relaxed nod.

“I see. Do you require a place to stay? You are always welcome as a refugee until this situation wanes down.” He simply stated. Belka gave a side glance outside of the booth, “I like to keep my options open. But seeing how we’re both low on credits, I think we might work, wait hold on, did you just call me a refugee?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. Yes, I did. I suppose Marge isn’t too happy about Roge being a wanted terrorist.” He dug under his teeth with a fingernail, scraping off the gunk and tar.

“No she isn’t. I feel bad about his kids knowing about it. Well, I mean Axel knew, Liz, even Chai. But not Ean.” Belka gave a light chuckle, Kanan nodded.

“Don’t be. It is better for them to find out than for them to not know at all. Roge must render back his trust, to whom they are due when it is time. But for now, you are both lost and led astray by poor circumstances,” He closed his eyes and laced his pale hands. “But this is not necessarily a bad thing. Although this is what He wills, He has also given us the will to act together. Perhaps, this is what He wants? I cannot say, only He knows.” Kanan spoke regarding their situation. Together, Belka thought. Whether it was a coincidence or superstition they would be stuck with the Reaver, she had no idea. But their ship certainly saved them from being pancaked.

“I guess. Anyways, I hope to see you and Royok again.” She gave a wave to the Kanad reading a book. The Kanad gave a wave while his eyes stayed on the book. The Artisynth nodded, “Yes. I can’t wait until we start another Movie Night soon. Farewell to you both.” He gave a respectful bow before the transmission ended. Belka rubbed her forehead, leaning against the wall and crossed her arms.
 
"Right, have a team ready." Amy trailed after Aesha to follow her to Valk, when she heard someone call her full name behind her. The former merc turned around to face who it was and to her surprise, she saw another Kanad standing there. Only a few of them would know her by name and last time she checked, they either just burned her or are somewhere private. "Do we know each other?"
 
Aesha glanced back, as she heard someone say Amy's full name from behind them. She spun about, and soon found that a cybernetically enhanced kanad was now behind them. And it wasn't just a random one. It was Kalashi, a kanad bounty hunter from the B.C.B. that they often found themselves running into. And one that they didn't have a particularly good relationship with. Aesha's hand slowly drifted towards her pistol on her thigh. They didn't need this kind of shit. Not right now. "What the fuck are you doing here, Kalashi?" she muttered.
 
Nathalie simply nodded towards both Aesha and Shelby. As long as the kid doesn't outright delete the footage it could serve some use, maybe even clear some of our bounties or at least prove that the civilians that escaped aboard the Mordred are nothing but innocent bystanders.

Then, as the head-honcho of the Reavers had summoned the group of mercenaries, a bounty hunter identified as Kalashi introduced herself. As Aesha slowly reached for her sidearm Nathalie simply spun around with her pistol raised and trained at the Kanad. Shoulders pressed forward and with her finger on the trigger any sudden moves made by the bounty hunter would most likely result in getting the Mocambique treatment.
 
"Relax, " Kalsahi said in a raspy, feminine voice as she threw up both her hands, wide open and free of any weapons. "If I wanted to start shit, you would have already known by now, and a number of you would have already been dead with how your peons do searches..."

"No," Kalashi muttered, her eyes slowly tracing over them all as she let out a deep, muffled breath from her respirator. Her eyes then looking back at Aesha and Amy, dotting between both their faces and hands.

"No, I'm not here to take any of you in... Even if I really wanted to." Kalashi says as she crosses her arms and leans against the ship's bulkhead. "I mean, Sol is offering a good amount on your head, Nathalie Walker." Giving the former SSOID agent a cold stare.

"But I digress..." She mutters before rolling her eyes back over to Aesha. "No. I wanted to speak to Amy about some things but I should get it out there that I am, unfortunately, in the same boat that you lowlifes are all in..."
 
Aesha's eye twitched for a brief moment. She did recall seeing Kalashi's face on the news report, but she figured that she would have got off the station through another manner. Instead, she snuck off using their ship. "If we hadn't been in the middle of a shit show for the past few hours galactically, we probably would have noticed you." responded Aesha, "And if you're in the same boat as us, might want to stop sneaking up on us like you normally do. Would save you from catching a bullet next when you spook Lauren."

She glanced back down the hallway. "...You can talk to Amy after we handle a little business. Tag along if you want, but if you even twitch, you're not leaving this ship in one piece. I promise you that." she said, as she looked back to Kalashi. She gave her sidearm a pat on her thigh, before turning back about and continuing on down the hallway. The group followed, with Kalashi tagging along behind them. Several corridors and short halls later, they would arrive at the medical bay. Easel stood quietly near where Lauren lay, inspecting the young woman's vitals as she lay their silently. Damien was awake, glancing in their direction as they entered. Typhon was standing near Valkyrie, whom was also wide awake. Her eyes didn't move until the group came closer to her, and they shifted straight to Amy first. Then, the rest...with the last one being Kalashi. She said nothing to the kanad bounty hunter, not even bothering to ask why she was there or how she got there. Instead, she simply spoke what she had intended to from the start.

"...I've gathered you here to say a few things, and state my intentions.... Anora has taken something precious from me. Something I will never replace. The man across from us on that table. She almost took a second precious thing from me afterwards. The young woman laying comatose in that bed over there." she started. Her eyes had drifted back to Uric's body by now, her tone near emotionless. "She now attempts to take something else from me through other means. My band of Reavers. And in the process of that, she is trying to take away your lives as well. Placing the blame for the colony's destruction on both of us. You are just as innocent as we are in all of this."

She paused for a moment, her eyes drifting back over to the group as she slowly turned her head. "...For what Anora has done to me, I will exact vengeance upon her tenfold. As she tries to destroy my group, I will obliterate hers. As she tried to kill my daughter, I will slaughter all she holds dear. She took my Uric away from me...so I will take her head." She paused for a moment, staring at them. "I want you all to help me do that. Either as members of the Reavers, or just as hired mercenaries."

Eve soon stepped forwards. "...Mother." she said simply, forcing Valkyrie to look towards her. "...Eve. Zadra said you have something to tell me." she said, gazing upon the black android. Eve took a moment, looking to the group, before speaking again. "I believe that I know of a way to clear your names. At least for the destruction of VOC-1 and the decimation of Vileas."

The others looked to Eve, curious as to what she had to say. This seemed like an impossible endeavor, as most of the galaxy had it out for them now. "...I work for an organization known as the Black Masks. Specifically, I answer directly to its leader. Lady Heemstra." she stated, which earned a confused look from most of the humans standing there as well as Aesha. "...Lady Heemstra? You mean the actress?" asked Aesha, a hint of a smile inching across her face. "I've heard rumors of some secret group in the Federation called the Black Masks, but that's it. Rumors. And why would she be the leader of anything like that?"

Eve's head turned towards Aesha. "Lady Heemstra is an actress, musician, and painter. She has been the leader of the Black Masks for the past six decades. She leads it because it was her father's creation, and she simply picked up the mantle. You don't hear anything other than rumors about the organization because that's all you are supposed to hear. The only people that know of the Black Masks are certain high level individuals in very specific groups, and select people outside. None of them speak of us unless we will it." explained Eve, before looking back to Valk. "...I can use the few favors I have acquired from my service to Lady Heemstra to see that you all are cleared of these charges and that Anora and the Blood Corps are held responsible for it all. As they should be."

"...What could she even do?" asked Valk, staring at the android. "...You'd be surprised, mother... She hid Uric from you for this long. At his request." responded Eve. Damien's eyes widened nearby, as he looked from Eve to Uric, then to Valk. Valk's gaze, however, was unwavering. She stared at Eve for a few more moments, before speaking again. "...Alright. Do what you need to do, Eve."

Eve gave her a nod, before looking to the group. "It will take...several months. Something of this magnitude is a little difficult to shift, and I'm sure Anora's contacts who spread this in the first place have made sure that their 'evidence' was near perfect." said Eve. Aesha then spoke up, remembering Shelby. "Will video tape from what happened help? Shelby recorded the whole thing." she asked, motioning to the short 'girl' next to her. Eve nodded. "Indeed. Anything will help." stated the android, before looking to Shelby. Soon enough, Shelby was handing over the small card to Eve.

Eve then looked back to Valk as she slipped the card into a pocket in her robe. "...I will also work to uncover who Anora's major accomplices are. That should help you greatly in your search for vengeance. It will also take time, obviously. Anora's tendrils run deep, thanks to her association with KSM... and they have even dug into the Black Masks at one point. She knows we are also looking for her and her subordinates." she stated. "...Understood." replied Valk, before looking to the group. "...Get some rest. We're heading to Sielia, my home away from home. There, you'll meet some of the other captains in the Reavers...and we'll go from there."

It wasn't long afterwards that the last of the materials were brought over from the colony ship. Once they were secured, the Guillotine was moved away. Leaving the colony ship to drift. Soon enough, the Guillotine would jump to warp, darting quickly out of the system and leaving the Frontier Militia's territories behind.



Corporate Headquarters
Victor Industrial Corporation
Duroma


"...Mom...MOM. Wake up."

The voice was followed by a loud slap of a hand against the metal table. Taylor Caine slowly sat up, sitting back in her comfy office chair. She straightened her suit, her hands smoothing out any wrinkles, before her green eyes shifted to looking at her daughter Morgan. "...I wasn't asleep." she stated, her voice soft. Morgan gave her mother a look, straightening up and folding her arms. "...Right. You were just 'thinking'."

"Yes. Thinking." said her mother, as she turned her attention to the white translucent desk before her. It was something she didn't like to do...and hadn't enjoyed doing for several years now. Starvis kicked it off...and her mother's death had made it worse. The loose papers before her on the desk were gathered together, stacked just so and given a little tap on the bottom to make sure they were aligned before being set off to the side. Paperwork regarding the successful acquisition of the rights to and holdings of Power Dynamics. The defunct company that had produced lines of efficient power armor, high end custom weaponry, and other items for military or corporate use was now hers as part of the Victor Industrial Corporation. Her intentions? Revive the company and begin modernization.

She looked about the room. Her office, colored mostly a shade of white with smooth marble tile flooring. Breaking the white on the walls were pictures and paintings, with a few potted plants here and there from Terra. Across the room, sitting next to the far wall, was a set of body armor once belonging to the legendary Mad Dog, Miranda Caine. A photograph of her and her mother sat next to it on the wall, along with a photo of Miranda, Taylor, and Taylor's two children Michael and Morgan. To her left as she sat at the desk, along the left wall from one end to the other, was a long window. Gazing through it, one could see a lush forest in the early morning. It was an illusion, of course. As soon as Taylor tapped on a holographic button, the forest faded and revealed what was really outside. Several dark colored buildings. The corporate headquarters of the Victor Industrial Corporation. Surrounding the site, a large military base belonging to the private military company that Taylor and Morgan co-ran. The Praetorian Legion, nicknamed by some as 'Caine's Legion'. Hundreds of future mercenaries were currently getting ready for early morning PT, so the base was currently quite active.

Taylor stood from her desk, walking over and looking out of the window as she let her arms rest at her side. "...Why are you here, Morgan? Didn't you say you were heading over to see one of the pit fights at Alex's place?" Morgan walked over as well, holding up her holoband and tapping on it. "Well yeah, but I figure you might want to see this before I go. Something pretty bad just happened out in the RQ."

Taylor glanced over, as Morgan stepped up next to her. And soon, she saw it. Blackwell's Reavers, wanted terrorists. Taylor's eyes widened. "...What the fuck..." she muttered, as she gently grasped her daughter's arm so she could look closer. Valkyrie? Dropping a colony? Killing millions? No...this had to be bullshit. Valk would never do something like that. That's just senseless killing. She had mellowed a bit after having kids and getting older. Hell, her younger self wouldn't have done something like this. But there it was, footage playing right before her eyes.

"This...This isn't right. Valk wouldn't do something like this." she said, looking to her daughter's face. Morgan nodded. "I know. But there it is. Think Michael's gonna go after her?" she replied. Taylor rapidly shook her head. "No...No, he wouldn't. But Junko would. And she'd drag Michael along for the ride. That Ayr bitch is going to get my son killed one of these days." Then, she saw Amy's face show up, and watched Amy kill several civilians. "...Now I really know this is bullshit. Does Alex know about this?"

Morgan shrugged. "He probably will soon enough, if he hasn't seen it already." Taylor sighed, looking back out the window. "...Good god, Valk, what have you got yourself into?"



Three Days Later...

The Backrooms
The Silver Circle Nightclub
Nyxia

Nyx


A group of men and women stood in the smoke filled backrooms of the Silver Circle, as drunken young members of various races partied and danced out front to thumping music. Their voices were mostly hushed, talking of current events as they enjoyed cigars and cigarettes as well as blood laced drinks. It was difficult to plan meetings like this lately, especially after what had happened to the military academy on Hemera next door. Often, gatherings of Ker Supremacy Movement members were raided by Federation troopers, resulting in arrests or loss of life. At least these individuals here had protection in the form of ONI connections.

"[It seems that our friend Anora has solved a particular problem that we hadn't seen coming. Uric Corbett, one of Heemstra's men, knew about our involvement with Anora's activities, among other things. The man is now dead, having died on VOC-1.]" stated a balding man wearing a slick black pinstripe suit. His tie blood red, and a small pin shaped like the flag of Ker fitted into the center of it. "[Ahhh. A perfect way to dispose of him, I guess. Kill him, destroy the station, pin it on some large pirate group to divert attention to them. Off of Anora, and off of us.]" said another. Others in the room nodded.

But then a voice spoke up, belonging to an individual who didn't quite agree with the group's respect of Anora's acts. The short haired man leaned forward on his comfortable chair, clasping his hands together as he looked about. "[Anora, Anora, Anora...I swear, you all act as though she's the only one we have helping us. And what does she do most of the time, hmm? Killing pirates, blowing money and funding we give her on ships and equipment...and that gods damned pet project of hers. Do you really think we'll get anything out of it? IF she can even get the damned thing to work?]"

"[Per our agreement, she'll provide us with weapons and ships for the rebellion if we supply her with funding and all the raw materials she requires. We'll need that to stand a chance against the Federation Navy...at least those we can't turn to our side.]" responded the man in the pinstripe suit. "[I think its all crap, really.]" stated the short haired man, "[We should be focusing our efforts into acquiring what we need through other outside sources. Kosokom, YsCom...hell, someone in Sol would probably even be willing to help us. You know, something that could actually prove fruitful instead of blowing what we have on hopes and wishes. And of all people...why should we even trust Anora? The woman is a total rogue. She puts herself first and foremost. She always ha--]"

He was cut off by a hand firmly gripping his shoulder near his neck. The room went silent almost instantly. And then, the owner of the hand spoke from behind him. "[...Please go on, Representative Kuech. I'd love to hear more.]" A woman's voice. Anora Cortus' voice. Only three men in the room smiled at the sight, each looking between Anora and the Representative. The man broke into a cold sweat, as his eyes stayed locked forwards. His breaths grew more rapid. Almost labored.

"[...I'm waiting, Kuech... Do you have any more to say?]"

A dark stain appeared on his pants leg, rapidly growing and running down the length of his leg to the floor. Some in the room grew disgusted by the sight. The three men kept smiling, amused by the sight of a Representative pissing himself. Eventually, Anora released his shoulder. "[...I guess you've nothing further to add. I suggest you go now, Kuech. Unless you wish to embarrass yourself further.]" The man gulped hard, springing up from his seat and quickly departing from the room. Pushing his way through a few others on the way out.

Anora, dressed in a fine tailored black suit, looked about the smoky room as she stepped around in front of the chair. "[...Ladies and gentlemen. It has been quite a while since I stood before you in the flesh. I believe we last met on Keleis-3 above Ker. The Sky Lounge, correct?]" she said. Most of the room nodded in confirmation. "[That was six years ago. In any case...the deal we made together has not changed. I fully intend to supply your rebellion with the needed ships, weapons, and other items you require. I simply request you do as I ask. Funding. Raw materials. Both of those I require the most. I also need troops. Loyal sons and daughters of Ker, willing to do what is needed in order to achieve our glorious dream. A dream where Ker is at the forefront, leading the Upyri race into the future.]"

"[And you'll have it all, Cortus.]" stated the man in the pinstripe suit. Anora looked to him, her cold eyes locking onto his blue ones, and she gave him a nod. "[Thank you, Representative Platz. I can always rely on your support.]" She looked about the room once more, nodding to the three men that had been smiling before. "[...Now, I believe I'll leave you all to your little gathering. What I came here to do is done. I will offer a progress report in two months, as requested. Good evening to you all.]"

And as quickly as she had came, she left. And following after her, the three smiling men.




END OF PROLOGUE


 
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Chapter 1: The Spy


CHAPTER ONE
THE SPY





Valencia 'Valkyrie' Blackwell has been selected to lead for this chapter.


---- ---- ----





February 21st, 2426

Diamond Cove
The Shipyard

Sielia


It had been two long weeks since the VOC-1 Incident, with the Reavers having returned to the oceanic world of Sielia to hold up for a bit while their leadership recuperated. During that time, Valkyrie had gathered all her captains together for a grand meeting. Her intentions were clear: she intended to destroy the Blood Corps and kill Anora. While that sat well with most of the group, not all were comfortable with the idea of going on a quadrant wide search for the rogue Upyri and her band of former soldiers while the galaxy hunted them like rabid dogs. Some left, looking for greener pastures with other groups. Others voiced their concerns and oppositions. But Valk wasn't having any of it. Not after what they had done to her.

While the gathering of Reaver leadership occurred, the rest of the group that had been brought along for the journey got to take in the beautiful scenery of the Reavers' 'homeworld'. A blue jewel, tucked away nicely in the Renegade Quadrant. Its islands and oceans were teaming with life, and it proved to be quite a relaxing experience here. They also got to experience the large settlement that the Reavers had created near the large concrete shipyard where some of the starships were sitting. Diamond Cove, the settlement had been named, and by now it was growing ever larger. Thanks in part to the resources gathered from the derelict colony ship that the Guillotine had found. Aliens from all over the galaxy were congregated here, running shops and taverns or simply enjoying life on the ground as compared to living in a ship. There were several houses that had been constructed, as well as other locations like a large arena for fighting some of the captured wildlife...or each other. Far larger than the pit fighting ring that had been crafted inside the large concrete bunker at the shipyard, it allowed for plenty of room to move about as well as plenty of room for spectators.

A large machine shop was currently in use, servicing some of the mechs that the group had acquired. Including the combat mech and loader mech that they had found on the derelict colony ship. Zadra was still confused as to how the combat mech operated, as all of its chest-mounted cockpit consisted of was a seat with no windows and strange markings all over the walls. As for the lone survivor of the derelict, she had been brought to the medical facility inside the concrete bunker at the shipyard. There, she was rehabilitated and kept in solitude by Easel. It had taken quite a while to fix her muscle structure, but soon enough she was up and about. And it was finally time for Easel to spill the beans on a few things to her. Better than just letting her walk around and bump into strange aliens all over the place.

When she hadn't been rehabbing Katja, Easel had sat down with some of the others to get a feel for where their minds were at. Mainly focusing on Valk, Lauren (whom had woken up four days after the VOC-1 incident), and Damien, as they had gone through quite a traumatic event. Still, others were spoken to as well to see how they were adapting to their current situation after VOC-1's destruction.



February 16th, 2426
Valencia 'Valkyrie' Blackwell
Session 1


"It's alright, Valencia. You can speak your mind here."


"...I know that, Easel. I just have nothing to say."

"Nothing at all?"

"Yes. Nothing at all."

"The man you searched for several years for, whom abandoned you and disappeared without a trace thanks to the Black Masks, returns to you and is killed by Anora Cortus. Anora then breaks your son's knee, almost kills your daughter, and leaves you barely able to breathe. She then kills millions of people by dropping a colony onto the surface of Vileas, then promptly frames you and countless others for the attack. The entire galaxy wants you dead...And you have nothing to say?"


"..."

"...Talk to me, Valencia... I'm here to help you. Its what you hired me for."

"..."

"...Valencia?"

"...Turn the recorder off."

"But we just st--"


<Sounds of a chair being moved, followed by footsteps. Then, a door being slammed shut.>


---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----


February 17th, 2426
Lauren Blackwell
Session 1


"This shit is kinda stupid, you know? I already tell everyone what I'm thinking, so I frankly don't see the point in this."

"Yes, you're a very outspoken woman. But these sessions are for your personal thoughts and feelings on things. The stuff you keep to yourself."

"...Yeah. I keep it to myself because its fuckin' personal. I'm not gonna blab that kinda crap to the universe."

"But you can here. I want to know where your head is at. What you're feeling right here and now about things. There's going to be just a few questions today. Is that alright with you?"


<Lauren's chair squeaks as she shifts in it uncomfortably.>

"...Alright, I guess."

"Good. Now... how was your relationship with your father?"

"..."

"...Its okay, Lauren. I know its a touchy subject right now, but I want to get an idea of things."

"...He was my dad."

"That doesn't tell me much, Lauren..."


"...It was good, okay? He was a good dad. Took care of me and Damien, bought us stuff. Loved mom. Did what any other good dad would do for their kids."

"...How was your childhood with him arou--"

"Look, I don't want to talk about this shit. I'm done. He's fucking dead and gone, and I don't want to talk about that asshole anymore."


---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ---- ----



February 18th, 2426
Damien Blackwell
Session 1


"My relationship with my father was as good as the relationship most other boys have with their fathers. He taught me how to fish here on Sielia, taught me how to play cards. How to read people like he was taught. Mom taught me how to shoot, but I imagine he would have if she hadn't."

"Ah. Sounds like a nice childhood for a young pirate."

"As good as it gets, I guess."


"Now...how did you react when you heard that he had left?"

"I hated him. And still do."

"You still hate your father?"

"He abandoned us. He left me, my sister, and my mother behind, and made sure the Black Masks hid him from us. What kind of father does that?"

"He likely had his reasons, you know."

"Oh, he did. But I could care less. Let him rot for all I care."

"Surely you do--"

"I do. Now, I don't want to talk of this anymore. You can ask me anything else. Otherwise, I'm walking out of here."

"...I think that concludes this session."




Easel glided down the long hallway inside the medical wing of the concrete bunker, a holotablet in hand and a glass of water in another. Today was the day that she revealed to Katja just what had gone on around her during her time in cryo. The massive changes in the galaxy over hundreds of years. Thankfully, she'd be showing her this stuff during her last few hours in solitude. Then, she'd escort her out into Diamond Cove, where she'd show her around and introduce her to the others and variety of aliens. Hopefully it comes as a manageable shock to her. If not, she had some sedatives to put her back under. A last resort, of course.

She located Katja's room, sealed shut with a large D1 on the door. With a rapid tap on the door, she made her presence known. And then, she opened it up and stepped inside. She wasn't wearing her helmet this time, attempting to appear more human to Katja. It seemed to make her a bit more comfortable, even if her form was mostly cybernetic. Platinum blonde hair, pinkish-purple cybernetic eyes, markings on her neck from where her cybernetic body attached to her head. The rest was covered by the cloak she often wore, along with her typical medical clothing. People didn't need to see the pale white cybernetic pseudo-muscle tissue underneath. "Greetings, Katja. Today's the day, it seems." she stated, as she strolled into the room and pulled back the curtain to reveal Katja in her bed.
 
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It took nearly two weeks for the pirates to get a secure line of communication going. Amy wanted to call her family as soon as possible, but she knew that if she rushed it. It would be too big of a risk. Whatever Kalashi wanted to speak with her about was put off as the Kanad bounty hunter was busy with her own troubles it seemed. Amy was still perplexed why she chose to go with that way to let herself be known when the two of them had worked together in the past, but she was always an interesting case. Finally when she got the greenlight, the former mercenary rushed for a video call. It took a few agonizing seconds, but it got picked up. She allowed herself a faint smile when she saw her wife's face, but it soon followed by a feeling of dread.

"You have a lot of goddamn nerve!" Henrietta spat out. Amy didn't say anything. She was right to be angry, although she expected a more violent reaction. "You unbelievable, irresponsible, idiotic...." She bit her tongue and looked to her in a stern manner.

"I see the kids are around?"

"Don't you make any jokes! I spend the last fortnight tearing my hair out thinking how to even begin explaining to them that their mother, the bounty hunter, is now a wanted criminal because of things she did not do, while the same while footage of her shooting unarmed civilians is all over the net being put on repeat by the news."

"I'm sorry." Amy said quietly.

"What was that?"

"I said I'm sorry, Henri." Amy managed to say it louder. "I'm sorry that I'm putting you through this. I'm sorry that I'm putting the kids through this. I wish I could be there with you and tell you everything is ok and to hold you all in my arms until it just blows over, but I can't!" There was a silence "I'm so so sorry that I can't be there right now. That I didn't call sooner and had to go underground and leave you in the dark."

"I know." Henrietta spoke with a calmer tone now "I'm more angry that it took you this long more than anything." She smiled a bit "Truth is, I'm really glad to see you're alive still, even if you're still doing what you're doing. Where are you now?"

"On some planet surrounded by pirates that are also on the run."

"Right, Seth did say you were probably with some pirates."

"He's there?"

"I said I was trying to explain to the kids how you didn't do it, remember?" Amy recalled what she had said just seconds ago and breathed a sigh of relief "He's currently with the them, teaching outdoors things. He was lucky Alex is also here, otherwise I was going to shoot his head off with a shotgun."

"You and a gun?... Nevermind." Amy shook her head "Alex is also there?"

"Has been for the past two weeks." She looked over her shoulder "In fact..." the sound of a door opening could be heard from behind her.

"Is that her?"

"Yeah, come over." In a few seconds Amy could see her brother on the screen.

"Hey little fox!" He sounded relieved "First of, good to see you're alright. But second, can you explain what happened exactly?"

"Remember back at Starvis? When we had a bounty on our heads? Same thing, but this time me, Valk, her kids and her entire crew were framed along with a host of others by a crazy Upiry terrorist."

"Valk has kids?" Alex asked before Henrietta punched his shoulder "What? I'm just surprised." Amy rolled her eyes "Anyway, what's your plan?"

"Right now, I'm gonna have to help her clear her name and mine along with it." She sighed "I wont go into detail right now. The less details you know, the better. What I can say is that it will take a long time. Months at best." Another sigh. This was going to be hell for all of them. "I promise to keep in touch. The line here is secure and if we use this place as a base, I can make calls often enough."

"Just be careful, alright?" Henrietta now sounded really concerned.

"Always." Amy tried to give her a reassuring smile back. "Tell the kids I'm doing alright. That I'm with their wild aunt they never met or something."

"They'll want to meet her, you know that right?" Henrietta was annoyed, but knew she couldn't win that one "Fine. I'll let them know, but you tell their aunt that if their mother doesn't come back, I'm personally going to beat her senseless."

"Wouldn't go threatening a pirate queen, but Hell hath no fury and all." Amy smiled "I got to go and make another call and see if I can salvage anything else. Love you." She blew an air kiss to the screen before hanging up. It went better than she expected. Lucky that Alex and Seth managed to calm Henrietta while she was away. Still she regretted not talking to them sooner, but the risk was too real to just ignore. She just wished she could talk to the kids as well, but the timing was just bad luck.

After a few seconds she rang up the other name on her shortlist for emergencies. Hopefully Taylor wasn't too busy.
 
Katja rolls over in her bed that she was resting in, squinting slightly as the lights come on. She looks at the woman that's been more or less her caretaker since she has woken up. It's been two weeks of isolation and she's getting a serious case of cabin fever at this point, this was the first time she slept for more than two hours, maybe it was the thought that today would be the day she gets to go outside of wherever they are. The rehab took awhile but she feels about back to where she was before she was frozen, most of her time not doing rehab has been spent in a sort of catatonic state as she had to come to terms with that she was not only the only survivor, but had also been locked in that ship's freezer for centuries. When Easel announced that today was more or less her checkout day for the rehab, Katja livened up a little bit, she was itching something bad to not be locked in this room or over in the rehab room finally.

She looks over at Easel as she sits up, holding her bedsheet up a little for modesty's sake even though there isn't much point given the amount of time she's spent being examined, re-examined, scanned, etcetera. She takes a sip from the glass of water on the bedside table to rinse the dryness from her mouth before speaking, "Am I free to go? Can I go home to Earth and maybe find some semblance of a new life?" She knows it's a bit of an optimistic ask of this Easel woman but maybe today is the day for good things.
 
Very little was seen of Typhon during these past few days by anyone, and even less was heard from him. Not even Easel heard much from him when she inquired about holding a psychiatric session with him, brushing her off with a polite yet firm 'No'. Most of his time was spent either sitting alone in the med-bay waiting for patients to arrive or out in a more secluded location of Diamond Cove praying by himself. So seldom seen he was that if it weren't for his position as the Reavers' chief surgeon, they probably would've forgotten he even existed at all. But that's all fine to him. It just means that if the Federation, Sol, the Kingdom, or the BCB come knocking, they won't find him first. As for the other Reavers though, he really doesn't have much interest in getting along with them very much, especially not this new haul from VOC-1 that dragged themselves on their guts towards the Mordred. Being framed aside, if they're this upset over a colony being massacred, then they do not belong in the company of pirates. He'd rather they stayed behind and not potentially get in the way of this group's activities; particularly that one bleeding heart human.

Unfortunately, Typhon is only a mere doctor, and he's not quite happy that he'll have to take care of them too. But that's what he's earning money for, and a new arm isn't going to pay for itself...

As he's finishing up his morning prayers, he spots Easel walking around in the distance wearing her uniform. Typhon has nothing to attend to right now, but maybe he could lend a hand if she's seeing patients. So, he trails behind her until she sees her walk into that crazed woman's room. He doesn't walk in with her, though he leans on the doorway just in case Easel needs him.
 
It had been two weeks since VOC-1, and Vance found himself staring at the gentle waves rolling on the beachside of where they had based themselves at on Sielia and was lost in thought. He was more calm than he was back then, but now he was filled with determination to take down Anora as Valkyrie and her kids were. Although he wasn't a pirate, he could at least justify to himself working with them as they held the same goal. His own discussion with a grief stricken Vella and her words to him when he left are all he needed to motivate him: Promise me you'll take her down?

He was going to avenge Dan, and all the other people who were butchered on VOC-1, by whatever means necessary. And now that Vella and all the other civilians were safe elsewhere thanks to Slade he could focus on his new mission. Although first he needed to get back into the swing of things, as was evident from his sloppiness in dealing with enemies back on VOC-1 and the amount of hits he had taken. If he was going to hunt down Anora, he needed to be back in proper form to do so. Fortunately, there was a gym at Diamond Cove for public use as Vance approached and entered to take a look around.

Although it was rather sparse compared to what had been available to him when he first woke up in an SSOID facility, it would have to do as it had at least a decent variety of weights and punching bags available for use. The latter seemed the most appealing as it was near the back of the establishment and as a result was the most quiet for him to be at as he took a spot near one of the bags and began focusing his hooks and jabs onto it. At first he started light as to not put too much stress onto it, but after a few minutes his punches became more and more intense as he let the memories rush in to fuel his strikes through anger and pretended that the bag was any unfortunate Blood Corps son of a bitch that came in his way.
 
It didn't take too long for Taylor to answer, her face appearing on screen before Amy. Taylor smiled as soon as she saw her, adjusting her black suit's jacket as she sat at her desk. "Been a while, Amy." she said. In the background, a pair of other voices could be heard. One being that of a woman, likely Morgan, and the other belonging to a man. Rough, heavy accent. Terran in origin. Scottish, she had heard Taylor once mention. It could only belong to Duncan, Taylor's husband and the father of Taylor's children. "Good to see you're alright. Especially after all the crap on the news."



"Am I free to go? Can I go home to Earth and maybe find some semblance of a new life?"

"I wish that were possible, Katja, but under the current circumstances...that's a bit tricky." responded Easel, as she walked around the bed. Dragging the curtain completely out of the way and revealing the rest of the room to her. "You will be getting out of this room, however, and will be allowed to freely explore this base and the settlement around it." She turned her head and gave her a faint smile. "I need to go over some things, however. There's...much I haven't told you about the state of things. Both regarding Earth... as well as the galaxy as a whole."

She pulled a chair over near the bed, and placed the holotablet onto the bed before her. She had preprogrammed a slide show into the projector, so that it would display as several holographic images projected up into the air above the holotablet. Once she was settled, she tapped on the tablet. "Now, to begin." she said softly, motioning to the blue orb that appeared. Earth. "You were placed into cryostasis in the year 2162. It is now 2426. Much has changed since you were put under, so I'll sum up as much as I can, and help you with any questions you may have regarding things. To start, what you see before you is your Earth. It still exists..."

Easel would go on to explain the major events regarding Sol after Katja's disappearance, up to 2204. "The First Contact War occurred in 2204. As the name implies, it was the first time Humanity came into contact with a sentient alien race." she began, switching the picture displayed to a picture of an Upyri. "Specifically, the Upyri." She went on to explain what happened during the war, and what exactly an Upyri Separatist was as well as what the Upyri Federation and the UGC was. "Through this war, Humanity was introduced to the wider galaxy. Upyri, Kanads, Ayr, Sanghvi, Khergians, Malmarians, Kercans, and so on. A plethora of other intelligent races for Mankind to mingle or war with."

She then tapped the screen again, bringing up the emblem of the Sol System Government. "Later on, in the mid 2300s, Earth and its territories would go through a pretty drastic change. The Sol System Government was founded, along with the Sol Defense Force and Sol System Office of Intelligence & Defense. Earth was renamed to Terra, and a variety of new laws were enacted, such as the notorious ban on religion in Sol's territories. A war followed, known as the Unification War. You can find more about that simply by reading through any recent books or just looking on starnet."

She tapped the tablet again. "Sol is now one of the main galactic factions. Humanity has stretched far and wide across the galaxy, either under Sol's banner or under one of their choosing. For future reading on recent events regarding Sol and Humanity, I suggest starting with the war against the United Sol Resistance and its aftermath, Battle of Zeruel in 2382, and the Starvis Incident of 2385. For other reading, such as on the other alien races, I can give you some books and links to starnet sites explaining things in detail."

She then tapped the tablet once more. A picture of the Reavers flag appeared. "You were rescued from the derelict colony vessel by a group known as Blackwell's Reavers, of which I am part of. We are a pirate organization, made of a multitude of races. The world we are on right now is known as Sielia, which is an oceanic world within the Renegade Quadrant. The Renegade Quadrant takes up most of the northwestern side of the galaxy. Sol is located in the southeastern portion of the galaxy." she explained, before tapping the tablet one last time. "As pirates, we're not exactly on the best of terms with most galactic factions, like Sol. But we're currently in a position where we're being framed for an atrocity that occurred two weeks ago. The colony of VOC-1, which used to float above the world of Vileas, was attacked and destroyed by a group of Upyri known as the Blood Corps. Their leader is named Anora Cortus. Since some of our people were on the colony during their attack, Anora framed us for the destruction of the colony. Millions died, and the rest of the galaxy thinks we did it."

She then turned the holotablet off. "...Which is why we can't exactly just take you back to Terra."



"I think you got something, Drav." stated Damien, motioning to the line descending from Drav's fishing pole into the waters around them. The tension in the line was growing tighter by the second. Drav grunted in response, as she began to reel and pull back on the pole. It wasn't long until they could see the fish venturing rapidly to the surface, being pulled up by Drav and her rod. And soon enough, it broke the surface, swinging towards them and landing in the boat between them. The third person in the boat with them, a young male kanad, moved quickly. Grabbing the fish and unhooking it before slipping it into a box beside them. The lid was pressed back down, shutting the fish inside with others that they had caught. They had caught fifteen fish so far. Eight by Drav, and seven by Damien.

"Nice work." said Damien, pulling his hair back and tying it into a loose ponytail before checking his own line. Maybe he could tie things up with the Khergian before they headed back in with their haul. He glanced towards the shore, checking to see what all he could make out from where they sat on water. Valkyrie was standing on the beach, hands on her hips as she spoke to Slade and a few of the other captains. Lauren was somewhere else in Diamond Cove, likely near the firing range as he could hear a symphony of gunfire sound off every now and then. And if she was there, she was also probably drunk. The other newbies were probably roaming about somewhere among the other pirates in Diamond Cove. Aesha was sunbathing on the beach near where Valk and the captains were sitting, and Zadra was working on the mechs in the shop. Loudmouth was with her, probably, or was harassing people like usual. Surprisingly, Roku was mingling at one of the taverns, Damien having saw him as they went to get their fishing gear earlier.

He then felt a tug on his rod, and noticed the tension in his line changing. "Shit, got another one." he said. Drav glanced over, watching as Damien started rapidly reeling it in. Then, she noticed just how much trouble he was having doing so. Drav reached over, taking the rod from Damien and beginning to tug on it herself. Something was pulling the line, and it was pulling pretty fucking hard. Drav jerked on the rod, continuously trying to reel in whatever it was. And soon, they saw it.

"Shark." muttered Drav, quickly drawing out her knife and slicing the line near the end of the rod. Once the line had been cut, the alien looking shark descended back into the ocean away from them. Damien muttered something under his breath, before glancing to Drav and the Kanad. "...Guess we better head back in. Not particularly interested in pressing our luck if we're starting to catch sharks now." And it wasn't long before the trio were heading back towards the shipyard, darting across the water on their little motor-powered boat.
 
Been a while, Amy ... Good to see you're alright. Especially after all the crap on the news.
"You have no idea how good it is to talk to other familiar people. It's been too long, captain." Amy smiled back when Taylor greeted her. It's been a long while since they talked. While they did keep in touch every time Amy was on Duroma, they haven't been talking as much as she have liked to. The sounds in the background didn't distract her, but it gave her an idea of how busy things were. The heavy accent was probably coming from her husband knocking some sense into someone. At least Amy assumed he did. She couldn't remember if Duncan was into the family business like the rest or not. She'd have to ask about it some other time. "And yeah...all that crap is something I'll...we'll deal with." Amy corrected herself "I'm working with Valk on this, but I got other things on my mind. Family stuff. Seth and Alex are already at the ranch, but with some of the assholes I've pissed off, I'm still concerned. You got a few spare hands on hand?"
 
"And yeah...all that crap is something I'll...we'll deal with." Amy corrected herself, "I'm working with Valk on this, but I got other things on my mind. Family stuff. Seth and Alex are already at the ranch, but with some of the assholes I've pissed off, I'm still concerned. You got a few spare hands on hand?"

Taylor nodded. "I can send a detachment of Praetorians to help Seth and Alex. Knowing Seth, he likely has everything covered, but he'll probably appreciate the assistance." she said, glancing up behind the screen. She motioned to someone, whom apparently acknowledged what she said. "Morgan's going to gather them now." She then looked to screen again, back at Amy. "...How's Valk and the kids?" she soon asked.
 
Katja listens carefully to Easel's crash course on the very long gap in time she spent asleep. So humans weren't alone in the galaxy after all, both a relief and a concern as Easel talks about the First Contact War. Her concern about humanity grows as the basic details of Sol in its current state is explained, she feels that this Sol government isn't quite the ideal outcome of Humanity's unification, especially if there's separatist groups. So much for a golden age of Humanity she figures. The names of the different species kind of go in one ear and out the other as she doesn't really register the names as familiar to her. As Easel finishes up the crash course and explains the current state of affairs more relative to Katja's position she sours a little.

"Great, so space pirates rescued me and despite being space pirates are somehow the victim in this situation? I mean, it's kinda hard to feel sympathy for a crew of cutthroats and raiders." She sighs dejectedly, "I suppose being rescued is better than being a frozen corpse lost in space though, so thanks I guess. Kinda wish it was under better terms though." She scratches the back of her head and asks the more pertinent question in her mind, "I know you've been putting me through rehab, but the doctor who put me in there in the first place said I was only supposed to be frozen... I think, ten or fifteen years max, but being frozen for over two centuries... there has to be something wrong with that." She shifts to sit on the edge of the bed, wrapping the bedsheet around her slightly to cover her body up, "Sometimes when I'm laying in bed I hear echoes of things, like voices or even just weird noises. Sometimes it's almost like there's a radio on somewhere in my mind playing random gibberish." She looks down at the zigzagging lines of the implanted neural interface system that at a glance would pass for weird tattoos, "I know there was a laundry list of side effects for the implant but I never had these sorts of issues before." She shifts to pick a hand up and rub the small metal disc where the tattoos seem to converge on the back of her neck. "I'm just a 'mech jock, I was supposed to run a power loader for the colony. They had me do this augmentation and ran me through a military training program but I don't think I ever saw a manifest for my billet that listed a combat 'mech. So I just assumed the combat mech would come later when it was needed."
 
I can send a detachment of Praetorians to help Seth and Alex. Knowing Seth, he likely has everything covered, but he'll probably appreciate the assistance... Morgan's going to gather them now.
"He's good with organizing , but he's getting old. Morgan's going to be a major relief for him. Plus she can pick his brain about running a mercenary group if she's curious. Man was born 30 and has 20 years on all of us in that field."
...How's Valk and the kids?
"Heavily bruised, but better now." Amy sighed as she remembered the state Anora had left them two weeks ago "I can't lie to you, Taylor. What Anora did to them was brutal. Lauren was comatose and Damien's leg was bend backwards. Valk was missing her mechanical arm...That woman did it in what was described as barehanded. Sure she has some good medical staff on her payroll, but I'm concerned about Valk's battle plan when we get to the crazy bitch again. I worry that her anger might cause her to slip and overestimate her chances."

"Can't blame her thought. She just buried the father of her children and she wants revenge. I'd probably do the same if the same happened to Henri."
 
"Great, so space pirates rescued me and despite being space pirates are somehow the victim in this situation? I mean, it's kinda hard to feel sympathy for a crew of cutthroats and raiders."
Typhon doesn't shift, but he does chime in at that statement. "Do not take your rescue for granted." he sternly adds. "Someone else found you, you would have woken up on a table with half your organs missing and someone pulling out the rest, or worse." Neither his face nor his tone reflect any emotion on describing what Katja narrowly avoided. Finally does he stop leaning on the doorframe and steps forward so Katja can get a better look at him. The deep wrinkles on his saggy, thinning face visible, he introduces himself.

"Doctor Typhon. Artisynth, and if the year is correct, you might actually remember my kind." he says, extending his cybernetic hand.
 
February 20th, 2426, 1821 Hours, Guillotine Time
Olivia Kovak
Session 1

< . . . >​
"So, what. You're some sort of army shrink?"

"Of a sort, but this session isn't about me, Olivia. It's a simple check-up, to see how you're doing."

"How I'm doing-- oh, no, yeah. A deadbeat merc who got press-ganged into working for pirates because I got framed for being a fucking terrorist. Bounty of probably millions on my head, and the galaxy hates me even more, now. Yeah, I'm doing fuckin' great, thanks for asking."

"...Even more?"


"I." <The sounds of a chair scraping across the ground are audible for a brief moment.> "...Don't wanna talk about it."

"I see. Well, you were in the Sol Marines, weren't you?"

"Yeah. Like I said, I don't wanna talk about it. Look, if this is the only thread we're gonna go down, I'd rather go back to working on my own shit, okay?"

<The sounds of fabric rustling, and a chair moving are heard.>

"Alright, then. That'll conclude this session, Olivia. I'll make sure to let you know if anything particularly untoward shows up from your check-up in our next session, alright?"

"...Sure. Thanks."

- - - - -
Present Time, Sielia.



Today felt like one of those low-intensity kinds of days to Olivia. She took a slow, long drag of her cigarette as she looked out from the balcony over the archipelago. Earphones plugging up her earholes, and a quickly-warming beer cracked open, resting on the railing. She had to wonder, when was the last time that she'd been able to do something like this? Just, relax, enjoy the view. Sure, the view behind her of concrete, shipwork and welding wasn't anything special, but the rest of the planet? Damn. She could retire here.

...She could, couldn't she?

...But, then that'd leave things unfinished. Unsatisfying. She'd be outta the galaxy's prying eyes, sure, but for how long? Someone'd find her eventually, and even then? Let all these other assholes have all the glory of kicking the shit out of those motherfuckers that framed her too?

"...Fuck that." She muttered under her breath, reaching to take a drink. She'll definitely keep this place in mind, though.
 
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Easel listened to Katja, as she spoke of the noises, but refrained from replying as Typhon entered the room and introduced himself. "Dr. Typhon here is the chief medical officer of the Guillotine, our capital ship. I'm the head nurse." she stated, before looking back to Katja. "Judging from the scans I did of your brain while you were still in your medically induced coma, I've concluded that you've suffered minor brain damage from the extended cryosleep and the implant you've been given. It isn't enough to debilitate you in any way, but its there and you may suffer some side effects from it. I would give you a dose of nanites to repair the damage, but they may interfere with the implant and cause further damage."

"There was, indeed, a combat mech aboard the colony ship, as well as a loading mech. Both were brought with us when we investigated the ship. We also took the building materials, as well as the weaponry from the armory. Including a rather large autocannon. All the weapons have been modernized to some extent, and the combat mech has been put together. Our chief engineer on the Guillotine, Zadra, is currently inspecting it over in the mech shop."




Taylor looked a bit shocked. Anora Cortus ripped Valk's arm off barehanded? Was she enhanced in some way? "...I wish I could help them somehow, but with how things are at the moment...I'd be labeled a terrorist just for trying." she said, before sighing. "...The best you can do is to try and keep her focused. Don't let her drive for vengeance blind her. If that happens, she might just get herself killed... or all of you."
 
Katja hears Typhon's inclusion of the fate that could have befallen her and she sort of scrunches her nose a bit when he reveals himself. He didn't have to say what he was, she had seen enough pictures in the history books of artisynths back then. She knew what they had done and what they were like, she opts out of shaking his hand, "Yeah, I know what artisynths are. I'm guessing you're an outcast though since you're out here instead of hanging around with the rest of your ilk." She's definitely chilly towards Typhon but sort of warms back up when she looks over at Easel but sort of sours again when she learns of her currently issues. She's not sure how to respond but the thought that interrupts that is the when it registers that there was a combat mech on the colony ship. It confuses her because it was never listed for her, maybe it wasn't supposed to be public knowledge, even to the potential pilots. It would explain the military piloting training and the weird simulation cockpit they had her in for that training. She examines her 'tattoos' again and looks up at Easel before starting to get dressed.

"Can we go over there and take a look at it? I might be able to help in that regard. I don't know what the exact 'mech is, but I could probably give some minor insight into its operation." She sort of throws on some basic casual clothes that were given to her since the ones she stowed those centuries ago were practically dust when they found her. However, her puukko and its sheathe somehow survived the afair, if only the same could be said about her datapad which was utterly scrambled by being constantly struck by cosmic radiation. She loops the puukko to her hip with the provided belt and straightens up, making sure her tanktop is on straight and her pants aren't riding up from the hasty dressing, "Uh, this 'Zadra' is she human or one of these alien species you mentioned?"
 
"Uh, this 'Zadra' is she human or one of these alien species you mentioned?"

"She's an alien." responded Easel, "But, she looks almost totally human. She's what is known as a 'Garlon', supposedly from some far off galaxy. Has horns on her head. Think like an imp or something from the religious texts of old." She motioned to the doorway. "I'll walk you over to where she is. I'll also show you around, so you know where everything is...and who or what everyone out there is."
 
"Yeah, I know what artisynths are. I'm guessing you're an outcast though since you're out here instead of hanging around with the rest of your ilk."
"I am." Typhon confirms, though his hand awkwardly finds its way back into his jacket pocket after having been left hanging by Katja. "That is all you need to know."
"I'll walk you over to where she is. I'll also show you around, so you know where everything is...and who or what everyone out there is."
Typhon looks over at Easel for a moment, gives her a nod, and gets back to the door; grabbing the handle but waiting until Katja's ready to move out.

"And try not to stare if you can help it." he also says. "Some of them are not so human-looking."
 
As the days went by, Roge and Belka decided to make the stay on Sielia an impromptu vacation trip while the heat burns off. They were seen gathering on the beach and listening the waves come closer. Belka sighed happily, reeling in her fishing rod and enjoyed the moment.

“Hey Roge, you ever took that shrink Easel’s offer? I think it could be good for you to unload your thoughts.” She mentioned somewhere down at the medical place. Roge sprang out of the water, catching a large fish in his mouth. He climbed up on the boat and sat down, opening up the fish cooler and plopped the flappy fish inside.

“Not really. I’ve been a little busy with the kids online. Teaching them homework, reminding them to floss, all that stuff,” He rolled his eyes and lowered his eyelids. “What about you? Aren’t you a little homesick?” Roge asked before Belka gave a straightforward answer.

“A little homesick and missing the guys back at the Hideout, but I don’t really need therapy anymore.” She shrugged off, staring at the waters and waiting for the sea creatures to take the bait.

Once they finished fishing, Roge and Belka went over to the Diamond Cove’s gym and went inside.
 
The two weeks since the calamity at VOC-1 and their subsequent flight had gone by in blur. Or perhaps more accurately, a colorful haze in which the hours bled together into one unending tie-dye swirl, the days only recognizable as brief periods of cognizance surrounding eating, drinking, and the few duties delegated to him. Otherwise, it was sleep, or a close approximation of it. But by the time they had reached Sielia, Shelby had gone through two discrete little bags of stardust sprinkles, and that had been enough to propel him back into a state of boundless energy without the blue shadow darkening his mood since the massacre. The emotions had never seemed right. For some reason, they never quite did. After a certain point, things failed to register properly, like he was staring at a language he did not recognize. Except in this case it was a paradoxical feeling of unfeeling. He wondered if it was a familial trait; the only emotion his family seemed capable of was anger, but even that seemed out of his capability if one ignored the occasional bouts of petulance that also ended in a haze if he did not relent to his managers after they gave in to his first and secondary demands.

Fear, disgust, hatred, contempt, anger - these things never stuck with him long, measured in only minutes. He had once been nearly struck by a car on a promenade when the driver lost control and hit several people in the crowd on a course towards him. He would have been hit, had he not been pulled away. And when they had learned it was an assassination attempt by one of the shell companies... he still hadn't felt anything except for a brief gasp and surprise, and then it was back to the eternal state of buoyancy that seemed to propel every thought, every action he made. Worst, even the more harrowing memories of smoke filled hotel rooms with unknown people caressing him could only register as brief, singular blips of discontented revulsion, as if he knew that was how he should feel, but didn't. And witnessing a horrific slaughter and even killing someone? Nothing.

Here on Sielia, the cloud had lifted. No need for candy, not right now. He had secured an empty storage shed in the bustling little pirate town, a green screen, and some peripheries to bolster his own recording devices. And while he couldn't be Shelby du Pont, he could still be his biggest fan. Scantily dressed (with smiley face mask!), smeared in fluorescent and neon paint, clutching light-rods as he danced in a near lightless room save for black lights and neon luminescence, Shelby was delighted to have his first real session again in weeks that wasn't in a bed. He could turn the music up as loud as he wanted - the shipyard and general bustle drowned it out well enough from the outside, though anyone passing by would undoubtedly hear the pulsating, rapid music that was always a core to mainstream starpop. Not the slow, melancholic lounge music offshoot, or even the lighter, more digestible commercial store pop, but the hard moving and hard hitting music and dance that formed a core to his career. He had done it all, and could, under a little preparation, shift tone to a husky slow singer, but that earned more drinks from the bar and thoughtful patrons, when he needed to earn tips and thoughtless crowds on stream. He had paid a lot of attention to the monetization schemes of the marketing staff, and could handle it well enough by his lonesome.

Despite the ability to let loose for once, as he came to an end for today's session, he still couldn't help but bite his lip and grimace after the stream was over when he saw the viewer numbers. Only a measly twenty-thousand. His copycats and more established long time fans were pulling triple that, and he himself pulled hundreds of thousands of views on private streams alone - and that wasn't mentioning the occasional free promotional stream. "That's alright," he said to himself with a deep breath. "This is still a new profile. Unknown. Everything is perfectly okay." Taking off his happy-mask, he tossed it aside and collapsed onto a formless, globe-like cushioned chair on the floor. Even with the rigorous dancing from the past hour, he was barely out of breath, his stamina and flexibility his greatest physical attributes... aside from his beauty, charm, and perfect physique, of course.

While the show was about him, as it should be, since he was the idol, he was lacking a... a personal connection. The backup dancers may have been faceless to him - literally, they often wore masks - it was still nice to have someone to mirror, to move with, to move against.

Contemplating this, Shelby got the lights back on and began packing up his little station of equipment, which someone else should have been doing, but he had grown surprisingly proficient at cleaning now. Maybe... maybe someone else on the crew had the ability and desire to keep up with him? The thought of dancing with Miss Aesha came with a beaming smile, but she seemed pretty busy, and some of the others were a little rough around the edges. Like real pirates, though he was also a real pirate himself now. He even had a skull motif he sometimes used, with a different facemask. He'd have added more drawings to his body, but that was difficult to do without an artist helping him, and since he was supposed to be a girl, going topless wasn't the most viable on these particular streams. He'd need to fork over more identification to do that.

Refreshing himself with some juice pouches, Shelby exited the impromptu studio, bound for the beach, wondering who of the crew was around to proposition.
 
Away from the settled areas in the tropical paradise was a secluded beach, where a group of thick mangrove-like trees overhung the water of a lagoon which formed a pocket of shaded water, connected to the ocean by only a shallow strait. Under these trees, sitting on the tangle of roots and dangling her bare feet into the warm, tropical waters, was Vixaya. She hadn't eaten in two days, as after a while, the sugary foods she found so palatable aboard the Reavers' ship had given her a sore stomach, and she found herself more willing to fast than to eat any of the non-sweet foods.

In her lap, she held a tablet which she swiped at idly, viewing the photographs and videos she had saved from her time during the war. Most of them were from the last few weeks, as victory became apparent and there were celebrations at base, with lots of high hopes for the future. Then there were some from earlier on, when things were far more uncertain. Sometimes, footage had been sent to her by comrades, and Vixaya wasn't sure why they had done it. She didn't see herself forgetting the faces of her allies, nor the terrible struggles they had undergone together. She also didn't expect to survive the entire war, as it had taken both of her parents.

It took some time before she realized that the pictures and videos had an effect on her that memories simply didn't. Yrika, Yani, Zarakaya... she remembered them well, but while she could call on them in the silence of her cabin during the sleeping hours, where the room was dimly lit to assuage her fear of the dark, no voice would answer her. Seeing them moving, talking, and joking- it was almost as if they were there again. Yrika had survived the war, but had gone away to rejoin her family, and Vixaya quickly lost touch with her. Yani had taken his own life a few months after the war ended. And Zarakaya...

Vixaya stared at her friend for a long time, an ache deep within her heart. She had watched Zara die in a fire. Her hands still bore the scars left by the blaze, mostly at the backs and the fingertips. Her palms were protected because she had been holding Zara's hands, and while her eyes were wide, her mouth trembling, Vixaya could not bring herself to a point of release; she couldn't cry for her.

In her hands, she watched her fellow pilots donning their gear for another patrol. Zarakaya appeared in the foreground, clipping her helmet into place. Ke yoht visua zhiki apar, kaderen, she said to the camera. See you again soon, comrade.

"Ke yoht visua, tcheryak," Vixaya whispered back. See you again, someday.

She sighed, closing the video out and placing her head in her hands. It had been two weeks since she had joined this crew, and she had made very little progress integrating. Speaking through a translator device was awkward and made her feel as if she could never quite hold a conversation. Moreover, she had little to speak about aside from traumatic war memories and her own lack of understanding for the world around her. There was nothing of value she could bring to any discussion, it seemed, and that probably wouldn't change unless the Reavers could scrounge up another mech, preferably an OBKK from Kosokom, although that was a very long shot, this far from home.

Having nothing better to do than to mourn her old friends and watch cartoons, Vixaya was content to spend her time alone.
 

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