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Futuristic Starpath: Burning Sails [IC] [CLOSED]

Aesha chuckled over comms. "Only Sumo here is you." she said, as she maneuvered her fighter craft around to dock with the top of the Mordred. She knew what she was implying. She had never been large or slow in her life. Her numerous championships back home, and her ace listing in the Federation Navy was all the proof she needed of that. Once the fighter locked into place on the back of the Mordred, she climbed out through the bottom of the craft and down into the Mordred. Akuma did sound like a cool name to go with their squadron name. Really, it was an old word from Earth...or Terra...which meant Devil or Demon, so not much would change. Her callsign was already Demon, so it worked out fine.

---
"First time I've had someone apologies to me for that. Usually I have to yell and that person is send to the latrines or something to cool off. But, that's minor?...Hate to see you really pissed off...or maybe I do want to see that."

"Hopefully not, sir. Blind rage isn't particularly useful in combat...and can lead to mistakes being made." Karina stated. "A soldier's emotions must be quelled in combat, lest they be used against the soldier. Show no fear in combat, but inspire fear in the enemy. Bear no hatred towards the enemy, nor pity. Show no remorse in their death. Kill them simply because they must be killed, and move on to the next battle until victory is assured." She continued to treat her burns, before eventually putting the ointment back into her small medical pouch. "Standard military teachings from Ker." she finally said, glancing up to Petar before noticing Jackson had returned. She narrowed her eyes at him, before speaking again. "Next time, set the explosives and give the detonator to someone else."

------
Lauren shifted a bit, folding her legs under her as they continued to wait inside the bottom of the tram. "So when the hell are we suppose to g--" she started to say, before she heard a dull beep above them. Then, the tram began to slow down. "I guess we're coming up on the Outpost." she said, standing up. "Alright. Move quickly and quietly. Thighs, Jerry, you two scout ahead. Hunt down that Mr. H guy. We'll make our way into the complex, and hunt down a security office or something. We need a map of the outpost, and we need to locate where the corvette is. And probably shut down some of the defensive guns if we can. Don't want the Mordred getting shot out of the fucking sky when its time to get the hell out of dodge."

Eventually, the tram slowed to a complete stop. The group inside the tram began to move back towards where they climbed into the tram car, and Lauren motioned for two of them to hold her legs as she opened up the hatch. She then leaned down and out of the hole upside down, looking around to see if anyone was nearby. There were two guards nearby, but they were facing the other way and were too busy talking to notice them. A moment later, she pulled herself back up, then began to climb down the ladder. One at a time, the group climbed down and slipped behind two large crates just a few meters from them. Lauren gave Nathalie and Jericho the go-ahead, motioning towards a nearby pillar which lead up the side of a three story building across the terminal. Time for Jericho and Nathalie to show off their athletics and climbing skills. As the two moved, the rest of the group kept an eye on the two grunts whom were now slowly walking away from them across the terminal towards a cargo lift.

It didn't take long for Jericho to climb the pillar once he reached it, crawling up it almost like a spider. An invisible one. Nathalie was a little slower, but shimmied her way up the pillar at a decent enough pace to avoid being scene. Soon, the pair had disappeared over the top of the building.
 
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"Next time, set the explosives and give the detonator to someone else."

Jackson took another long drag of his cig, and look over to Karina with a confused look. He then took the detonator out of his bag, and clicked it a couple times. Click click click. He then turned it over on it's side, and pointed to a small, scribbled signature in what look likes pencil: "JACKSON".

"It has my name on it, see?" He replied back to her. "Why would someone else use it?"
 
"It has my name on it, see?" He replied back to her. "Why would someone else use it?"

"You seem far too eager to use it, especially before its time to do so." responded Karina. "For example, the station. We could have been on the Mordred before you detonated those charges. Instead, you set them off while we're in the same room with them. Does that sound smart to you?" She then stood, grabbing her rifle and slinging it onto her back. "In terms you're more likely to understand: don't blow your load before the time is right." She then nodded towards Petar, before turning and walking back towards the medical bay.

Once inside, she walked around to the opposite side of the table that Yolandi was lying on, watching Daniel tend to the synthetic woman. She seemed to be in better shape than she had been when she was brought in. At least she wasn't puking everywhere anymore. Daniel seemed to be running secondary checks now. Eventually, she drew out a syringe of her own, from the small pouch on her hip. Since they were likely meant to sit tight for now, she might as well get a shot in for the blood she drank earlier on the station. She lifted her shirt partially, exposing a hardened form bearing tattoos and dark scars. A small circular scar on the left side of her stomach was also visible. She popped the cap off the syringe, before jabbing it into the circular mark. She didn't groan or anything. She was used to it. The syringe's contents poured into her system, and she simply tossed the now-empty syringe into the trash nearby as she let her shirt return to where it had been before.
 
"Gonna have to agree with Karina on that one, what the hell were you thinking Jackson?" Vance said as he approached. "A stunt like that could've gotten all of us killed had the ship not been near enough to get to us in the first place. And that's not even mentioning your little episode in the hallway." Vance's voice had a slight hint of anger to it, but he held a mostly unexpressive face towards the crazed pirate.
 
"He is crazy! Very crazy and drunk!" says Shuren, finally sitting up against a crate. "Daniel should not have given the medicine."
 
Before Jackson could reply to Karina again, everyone else jumped in the argument against him. He didn't like that very much. He stomped out his cig, and angerly replied to the room, "Oh I'm sorry, did I forget? Did I not have my calendar set? Must be fuckin' bash Jackson day or something!" He stood up and lit another cig, taking a long angry puff and started pointing fingers. "First of all," He said towards Shuren, "Crazy and drunk is my M.O. I'm a fuckin pirate. You signed up on a pirate crew, hell I'm more effective this way than I would be sober and that 'medicine'," he mimicked quotations with his fingers, "Was a battle enhancing drug that allowed me to not only go on a rampage, but also negate any pain for the time it was active in my system. Don't tell me you don't see the advantage of that," he finished, almost spitting his words. He quickly finished the cig, and lit another throwing the used butt away.

"And you, Mr. Vance 'Save the World'," he began once again mimicking him, "Nobody asked you to run into fire after me. I fucked those guys up with my hammer, and took just a couple flesh wounds. We handled all of them easily, ya'll should know a seasons crew as ours versus some fuckin weekend security guards isn't war. It was a fuckin' clean-up," He finished, going to sit back down, but stopped and began again. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand also," he continued pulling out a small card from his wallet. He flipped over so they could see the front. "Read the fine print fuckers, 'Jackson. D-E-M-O-L-I-T-I-O-N E-X-P-E-R-T. Expert." The card showed a small picture of a smiling Jackson, next to his name, some obscure address and the title. It was very dirty with fingerprints. "Know that word? Those explosives were correctly sized for small armed positions or armored vehicles. Which those robots happened to be and it worked out just fine. Now, the fact the station collapsed after is not a fault of mine, but the weak structural integrity of the station itself. Go bitch to their construction engineers or maintenance guys not me." He finally set back down, his chest rising and falling having exhausted his lungs.

"Also we're fuckin pirates, and I love to blow shit up and will continue to do so. Y'all wanna go play military, be my fuckin' guest," Finally pleased with himself, he took another swig of whiskey from his flask and puffed on his cig.
 
Shun felt no reason to take a side in the brewing argument, arms crossed over his chest as he stood in contemolation. Team coherency would continue to be key, and he felt no need to jump in to kick the fat drunk when he was down. The only lesson he would take from today would be to position himself near the exit if Jackson was ever handling explosives.

"Pirate. Soldier. Terrorist. Labels do little in showing merit." he states, a non-commital addition to either side of the quarreling. "I am most concerned on who holds the strongest will and ideals. There is no use in limiting yourself by the stereotypical behaviors of those who come before you. Define yourself by action, work without limit."
 
"I am most concerned on who holds the strongest will and ideals. There is no use in limiting yourself by the stereotypical behaviors of those who come before you. Define yourself by action, work without limit."

Jackson looked over at him sullenly. "Think I've done just that tonight, doin' the exact job I was hired to do. Might not be employee of the month, but the job gets done, one way or another."
 
"Jackson" Petar said while he smiled with a grin from ear to ear. And then he slapped the man behind the ears "Stiga gluposti!l." He continued, the smile now gone and replaced with a scowl "Listen to your team when they say they have a problem with you almost killing them with your brand of stupidity. I've had 19 of you pull the exact same excuses and 19 of them were eating dirt before I became a human snowcone. And I don't care if you decide to round that number up. Live fast, die young, but not by taking me or anyone else more valuable with you in the process."
 
The Ayr gave a nod of understanding, now looking directly at him from his side of the cargo bay. Petar continued his scolding, and Shun shook his head in disappointment. "Perhaps. Yet you have no reason to discredit yourself by branding faults on upbringing or caste. It is important we work efficiently and effectively to see our individual goals through. Our fellow allies only express concern for yourself and themselves, as they should when they feel endangered by your actions." he adds, trying to phrase things in a less harsh way. His raspy, monotonous tone was far less threatening or irate than the others, though that wqs because he was not particularly angry in the first place.

"Your propensity to be... overzealous is not an inherent flaw, truthfully. Few lack the gumption to take drastic measures when they may be necessary. I would say there is value to that." Shun concludes, cutting Petar a blank look from his visor. It was the job of leadership to be impartial and work toward a quick resolution. In his experience ruthlessness to those undeserving would always lead to yet more complications in the future.
 
Jackson listened to Petar and the Ayr, and they made a lot more sense than the others did. He might have been drunk, but somehow the words found their way in. "God...damnit." It was as if an internal battle was happening inside Jackson. His shitty, selfish core fighting the need to be part of a team. To be accepted. The long term goals. He stood up and started pacing around, rubbing his head, muttering to himself. It was strange enough to the others to see his behavior like this before anyone could react, his sat back down with his head in his hands. He then took a deep breath, and threw away his cig.

"I hear yall. I understand," he began, gritting through his teeth. Come on Jackson just get through it before you end up through an airlock. "It's just difficult for me to take orders...when I as used to giving them. Ok?" He said looking away from them. "I understand, team comes first. Even among pirates, or terrorists or military bullshit. I get it." He looked back up at Petar. "I'm not like one of those happy gun-ho idiots. While my actions have been sporadic, they have been calculated. At least by me. I understand that's hard to see too..."

"Won't make any stupid ass promises, but I'll at least TRYYYY to be more vocal...about my actions...and keep my teammates in mind," he finally finished as he took his flask out and tossed it to Petar. He then quickly stood up, and went looking for food. Food always helped an angry heart.
 
Nathalie nodded and tapped Jericho on the shoulder before the two of them jumped off the tram. Once it was time to scout she cloaked herself, vanishing into the thin air. Jericho grinned and followed suit. Carefully the two infiltrators began to climb up the building. Once they were at the top Nathalie activated a built-in reconnaissance-scanner within her helmet. Where could their target be?

---

Daniel finished his secondary checks and gave Yolandi a quick look before packing up his bag. As far as he could tell she was in a stable condition. No point in continuing to sweep for wounds now that she was out of harm's way. He set a timer to remind him in an hour for another check.

"You okay?" He asked Karina without looking up.
 
Well that Jackson business ended quickly. Time for more urgent matters. With what strength he's got left in his legs, Shuren awkwardly hobbles himself to the med-bay, gluing himself to the walls and railings as he slides on them just so he won't fall over.

He stumbles through the med-bay doors, the strength in his legs waning quickly. "Daniel, help!" he says, before he crawls onto one of the beds face down. "My legs are not OK!" The large burn wound on his lower spine is clearly visible through his musky coat. Perhaps healing it would require more than Daniel's magic healing toaster gun.
 
Daniel quickly rushes into action as Shuren stumbles in. Shit. How did he forget about him? He grabs his medical bag and kneels down next to Shuren. "I got you," he says while scanning Shuren for additional wounds. Once the scan is done he prepares another batch of burngel for the large wound on Shuren's back. His legs would be a second priority. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"
 
"You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just minor laser burns. I put burn ointment on them, but you'll likely have to take a look at them." she stated, before snapping her head about when Shuren came into the medical bay. She watched the man crawl onto one of the other beds, mentioning something about his legs. He did take a nasty shot to the spine earlier. She watched Daniel move over and begin tending to him, as she folded her arms and leaned against the empty table next to Yolandi's.
 
Shuren turns his head to face whoever it was that came in. He gestures at his wound. "Oh, hello Misses Karina. This was a shit, wasn't it?"
 
Daniel nods. After applying the burngel he performs another much slower scan to get a better overview of Shuren's legs. He looks at Shuren with a stern look. "Your back will be fine. Though you're lucky it didn't sever all your fine-motor nerves." That said, Daniel takes his right thumb and presses it against Shuren's shins. "Can you feel this?"
 
"You're a slippery one, Ms. Dekker, you know that?" Yolandi looks over from the seat in the cantina she was haunting at that particular time, enjoying a glass of whiskey until she heard the voice. The man sits down next to her, adjusting his hat and lowering the bandana turned dust mask down to his neck. His face was like hers, pale white synthetic flesh with yellow eyes, he looked older though more weathered than her. She knew who he was, she also knew this meeting wasn't a chance encounter. She takes a sip of her whiskey and straightens up in her chair a little bit, "What can I say, Mr. Lagrange, I try to keep a low profile." She tries to play it cool for now, but given who Lagrange is, she doesn't want to take any chances. The synthetic man drums his fingers on the tabletop for a moment then nods, "That you do, Ms. Dekker, that you do. Such a low profile that I had to go poking in some pretty shady places to find this cantina. Ma'am, I don't particularly care about whatever bounties are on your head in other sectors, I'm sure you have plenty of them racked up, but your presence in the Periphery has caused some considerable levels of worry by the powers that be. They don't like you, I don't like you, most honest, hard-working folk don't like you..."

Yolandi sighs and leans back in the chair a little more, "Well, Mr. Lagrange, I don't know what to tell you. I'm just an entrepreneur who isn't afraid to get her hands a little dirty to make some money. You can't fault me for wanting to make a living. Shame to hear that I'm not very popular though, here I was thinking most people didn't mind me or appreciated my business with them." She takes another sip of her whiskey and nods towards the door at the far end of the room, "I suppose we're gonna be taking this outside in the street, I know you enjoy your theatrics when dealing with the wicked and evil in this slice of the galaxy." Lagrange shakes his head, "On the contrary, Ms. Dekker, I'm here to give you a choice. Stay here in the Periphery and meet your end, or get out and find somewhere else to terrorize. These folk don't want you or your friends around here anymore and they've asked me to take care of the problem. I know you're smart and understand the risks of staying in a place you've worn out your welcome in. I hope your notable sense of self-preservation outweighs your also notable sense of greed and you make the right choice." With that, Lagrange stands up and starts walking towards the exit of the Cantina, leaving Yolandi to her drink, he waves over his shoulder, "You take care now, Ms. Dekker, I hope we don't meet again under any circumstances."

- - - - - -

Yolandi's eyes slide open and she finds herself not in the cantina but in the medbay of the Mordred with Karina, Daniel, and Shuren sharing the space with her. She groans as the aching and pain settles into her consciousness and she attempts to sit up then decides it's maybe better to just lay down, "How long have I been out? Is the job done?" She brings a hand up to clutch her face as her head pounds with a dull ache.
 
Vance watched as Jackson stumbled around and finally apoligized for his brashness. He only gave a nod before turning to head for the med-bay. He was certain that others saw what happened back on the station earlier, and wanted to ask for a (somewhat) professional opinion on it. As Vance entered the room, he saw Daniel tending to Shuren and opted to wait until he was finished before inquiring.
 
Daniel nodded in response to Karina. "Based on past experiences I'd say you fared better than the others."

He grabbed a syringe and injected its contents into Shuren. "Lay down for ten minutes. You should feel better soon."
When Yolandi spoke up Daniel glanced over to her. "Job's done. You've only been out for a couple of minutes. Painkillers should kick in shortly."

That said Daniel closed up his bag but immediately changed his mind when Vance stepped. "How can I help you?"
 
"Hey doc, I've been meaning to ask... you saw what happened on the station right? Or am I just going crazy?" Vance asked without a hint of hesitation.
 
Petar watched Jackson do whatever he was doing and rolled his eyes. Not the first and probably wont be the last guy to be like that. Act like there are no rules, get caught up in the moment and shrink when their team gets pissed off. What happens next will decide if he sinks or swims. But the former Gold dust's record has more marks on the former than the latter. He didn't say anything after Jackson went to do whatever he was going to do. 'Better not be drinking' the thought crossed his mind and he looked at the flask.

Petar unscrewed the cap and brought it closer to his nose. His scowl got worse.
"Smells like turpentine." He stammered out as he screwed the cap back on "Should probably check if medical are missing supplies"
 
Scalpel Team got out of the tram, Grommy and Nara followed the leader of the team Lauren while Nat and Jericho did their thing. There was nothing much they can do now other than to wait for further commands and see if the guards made their move.
 

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