Futuristic The Long Telegram | 2286

[RIPSaidCone]

Tranquility Base, Hirado, Okinawa System
5:21PM OST - October 14th, 2286



Tranquility Base, hub of the Okinawa system and one of the largest starports near the Verge, though officially known to travel authorities as the Tranquility Interstellar Starport (TQX) was truly a hive of human activity, with a permanent population of 78,000 and an average passenger flow of over seven million people per day, it boggled the mind to think that this was one of Japan's lesser known starports. Essentially its own city, with its own local government, schools, emergency services and more, the starport was the designated port of call for the majority of Japanese and foreign traffic flowing to and from the Senkyo Verge, due to the Indian restrictions and tariffs on travel at their border, there was little other choice for many migrants and merchants who wanted both safe and affordable passage into and out of the Verge.

Tranquility was one of several such cities on the Japanese world of Hirado, a barren planet with no chance at sustaining life and limited interest in terraforming from the government, protected by massive domes and an intricate series of life support systems with hundreds if not thousands of backups and contingencies in the event of any one of these systems failing, Tranquility had become the transport hub of the Okinawa system in recent years, and as such Hirado had developed faster than most other barren worlds would ever.

Funnily enough however and entirely unrelated to the reason why Tranquility was chosen as the meeting point for Kronstadt's latest endeavour, TQX also happened to be home to Kronstadt Teichman's Senkyo branch, operating under one of its subsidary companies, Taisho Electronics. Tranquility was where the conglomerate conducted most of its Verge-related business from, and for good reason, it was at Tranquility that Kronstadt had access to their own docking bays, from where their container ships would dock and depart from to locations all throughout the Verge. Although today there was a far more curious vessel biding its time in the Kronstadt docks, and a far more curious team to crew it. Though this fact was hidden from the majority of the people who were employed at the docks.

----

Stretching her arms with a long, but quiet sigh, Věra Hašková-Parker ran the tip of her index finger along the rim of the tall Starbucks coffee cup that sat on the table before her. Her other hand reaching into the right side pocket of her jeans to retrieve her phone, a thin device that looked to be almost entirely of a translucent, glass-like material. Tapping on the screen lightly to bring up the time on the phone's menu, only to be confronted with the painfully impatient reality that was, 5:21PM. Which meant that there was still time to kill apparently, as the meeting had been arranged for half past five, despite Vera's best wishes being contrary to that. Laying her phone down on the table next to her cup, the woman turned her gaze from the small device on the table, to the people around her, wishfully thinking that she might see one of her new crewmates amidst the crowds that passed her by as she sat at one of the outside tables at the starport's coffee shop. But there was no such luck. Perhaps it was just the fact that she was focusing too much on the mission to the point where even a few minutes felt like forever, or perhaps she was justified in her impatience, not that it mattered even if she was.

All that mattered now was getting this new 'team' together. The sooner they could get started in their investigation, the better. She had read up on the reports that Legal had written on the temporary help chosen for the mission, the pilot was Welsh from what she recalled, had a naval background, and recieved a glowing recommendation from his old superiors. The lead investigator, Indian, well known in her home country for tackling some infamous case, she seemed capable enough. The security chief, German, from the Free State more specifically, and perhaps the most controversial of the selectees, not that corporate ever cared for what side a mercenary chose to fight on, regardless of corporate's indifference, Vera found herself already somewhat untrusting of a man who would lend his gun to both east and west. And then there was the tech expert, the youngest of the group by a good couple of years and to Vera the most curious of the lot, Eridian by birth and nationality, child prodigy, from a military family and rebellious, at first Vera had questioned whether or not selecting her was even a wise choice. Until that was she had read the part of her file involving the now infamous computer breach of Eridian federal security.

A collection of accomplished military men with impressive backgrounds and women who's above average curiosity is backed up by their skills in finding answers. And here she was, in-charge of making sure they didn't act out in a way that would embarrass a multinational conglomerate worth trillions of dollars while searching for an advanced piece of military technology that was stolen by god knows who in one of the most volatile regions of the Orion Spur. Fun, hopefully the investigation wouldn't be as difficult as she was building it up in her head to be, although for a variety of obvious reasons, Vera was suspecting that it would be exactly what she was building it up to be in her head. The Yakuza, Triads, D-Company or god forbid Ziyad Farad were all likely candidates for the theft, hell, at this point she wouldn't be surprised if the fucking Nusantarans or their Nashira friends had been involved. Or she could be staring in the completely wrong direction, and it may well just have been a bunch of lowlife scavengers who got lucky and hit the jackpot. In the Senkyo Verge there was really no way to know, which is why it was the worst possible place to lose something of that level of importance.

Pinching at the bridge of her nose, Vera suppressed a light smile. Of course it wasn't going to be easy, nor could she let her impatience cloud her thoughts. Though she supposed that's what sixteen hours of travel did to a person though, made them bitter and tired. Having flown out from Liberty Starport in the late hours of October 13th to come all the way to Tranquility, Vera had spent all the majority of the journey awake, going through the leads that Kronstadt's human intelligence workers had managed to get to her in the two weeks since the tech had been stolen and trying to decide on where would be the best place to start searching for leads. Although she supposed that's what the team they'd assembled was for. The team that she would soon be meeting, Vera thought, finding herself unusually excited at the mission that she was about to embark on, even with all of the dangers clearly present. It was far better than the pencil-pushing that she had become used to at Kronstadt needless to say. Attired in casual clothes, dark jeans, a simple t-shirt and bomber jacket, the rest of the team had been instructed to come with appropriate casual clothing as well, as the nature of the mission was discreet simply by being. They'd likewise been told where to meet her, and that they would be departing Tranquility shortly thereafter.

Now it was just a matter of which of the team would arrive first.

RayPurchase Hyzenthlay thirteen timbothy ​

 

[RayPurchase]

Owen James
Tranquility Base
​

Tranquility Base. Teeming with life, lights and sounds, gateway to the Verge and all the trials, prizes and troubles that were contained within. Merchants rubbed elbows with mercenaries who would be escorting them one moment, and then quite possibly accosting them for their goods just a week later. Combined with India's near embargo of the region, Tranquility was the main gateway into the Verge, the Japanese had effectively monopolized entry into the region, you had to credit them.

The journey from New Cymru was a long one, of that there was no question. Furthermore to attract as little attention as possible (That had very much been a stipulation of the contract) the entire journey had been made upon a standard freighter vessel, packed full of people unable, or unwilling, to pay for a more comfortable and far more expensive passenger berth aboard a ferry or cruise vessel. Not that Owen minded to be honest, his whole life had been spent aboard ships, mostly Naval ships, and if there was one thing the Navy were more than happy to scrimp on in the pursuit of efficiency, it was the comfort levels. For the 3 week voyage he had happily found himself a corner in the cargo bay, secluded behind a couple of pipes that gave him a modicum of privacy from the unwashed masses crammed into the rest of the bay. It's amazing what you can do with 3 weeks of near uninterrupted time. He had made his way through 5 well thumbed paperbacks, including a Foreign Office pamphlet in regards to anyone planning on making a trip to the Verge (It was full of warnings and phrases such as 'it is highly recommended to avoid all but the most essential travel', not that Owen really paid much attention to this part), and finally (and what he was most proud of) a by now battered Japanese phrasebook. The chance to learn a language had always been offered by the navy, but due to the folly of youth it was something that he had never taken advantage of, not only was it quite interesting but most likely pretty useful given the Japanese presence in the Verge. Also if the Navy had taught Owen anything, it was that boredom kills, space is bloody big, and most of your time is spent going from Point A to Point B, if you don't plan to fill that gap you'll ending up going stark raving bonkers within a few years and end up a burnt out wreck with a propensity for talking to yourself. Whilst Owen did talk to himself quite a bit, thankfully it was generally in a hushed tone, and he definitely wasn't burnt out, in fact he was hungry for more. Hence the reason why he had ended up taking this mysterious job offer. Low on details, but high on promise and reward.

Owen emerged from the belly of the ship among a throng of people. The instructions had been dress casual, but to be honest he no longer had much in his wardrobe that didn't fit that criteria, his family had hardly been members of high society, and other than his old naval dress uniform, he didn't exactly have a lot of suits. With his faded and slightly worn blue jeans, black combat style boots and black bomber jacket (under which he was rather proudly wearing a bright red Welsh rugby jersey) he blended into the crowd as just another traveler, other than perhaps the jersey, there was little to distinguish him from any one else passing through, just another face.

He glanced down at the battered watch on his wrist. 17:10. Another 20 minutes to kill until the rendezvous, and the coffee shop was less than a minute's walk around the corner. He had already scoped it out, but hadn't seen anyone matching the description of the proposed contact. And so he found himself killing time, leaning against a pillar, a pair of earbuds in place, and his language guide flipped to the food section. He glanced up, his eyes flicking between different stands and stalls. A wry grin appeared over his features, with time to kill, and his stomach beginning to rumble, there was no time like the present to see if anything from the book had managed to sink in.

17:24

Owen came round the corner and up towards the cafe. In his hands was... well he wasn't even too sure to be honest. He was pretty sure that he had ordered a Kebab, but what had been presented had far too many visible limbs, and whatever the sauce was, it was far too... well purple to be the garlic sauce he was nearly certain he had requested. Unfortunately there was no part in the phrasebook for disputing orders. Thankfully however despite its grizzly appearance and frankly startling appearance, whatever it was it tasted good, and so as he approached the polystyrene box he was carrying was now only half full. He scanned the tables, settling on the one occupied by one woman and her cup of coffee. There were several free chairs around the table however, clearly room for a larger group, most of the other tables were empty this late in the day, and she fit the description that had been sent over as well as the meeting place and time. He dodged between tables and chairs, food firmly clamped in his left hand, before finally coming to the table, sliding down into one of the chairs without waiting, his cheery grin still in place.

"Vera I presume? Otherwise I'm going to have to start apologising for picking the wrong table and interrupting your afternoon?"

His Welsh accent was thick and heavy, the sort of thing you could wrap yourself in and use as a blanket.

(Interaction RIPSaidCone )

 

[Hyzenthlay]

Lorelei Sunwoo
​

The hustle and bustle of Tranquility Base was like that of any other high-occupancy area, though it had its features that set it apart and made it unique. For someone who had never been before, the constant stimulation and noises could very well prove to be too much. These, however, were drowned out for one bystander by a pair of headphones. Lorelei had never really been outside of the New Eridani Republic before, and was eager to take in the sights of this new part of the galaxy. Sure, she'd been all over her own nation, but seeing others had never been in the cards for her. That is, until she received the offer from the major conglomerate (which she may or may not have pried into just the slightest before accepting the offer). Working for a major corporation wasn't her thing, and working on a team was completely out of her comfort zone, but the price they offered her was too generous to pass up.

After half fudging her way through the transport system, managing to talk her way into a more comfortable class than she had actually paid for, she'd arrived at Tranquility Base. Mildly jetlagged and in need of a nap, but eager to get more information on the job she'd been hired for. Sure, she'd tried getting details herself, but the encryption on any of the Kronstadt Teichman systems was so complicated that it would have taken her weeks to crack it, if not months. And frankly, at that point, without immediate promise of reward, she would have lost interest sooner rather than later.

Shouldering the satchel that held her tablet, chargers, and other assorted pieces of technology (all in various stages of disrepair), she wove her way through the streets, blending in remarkably well. Lorelei looked like any other commuter or bystander, clad in a pair of simple dark jeans and a black leather jacket, something her father had given to her years ago, overtop of a white tank top. A pair of scuffed sneakers completed the look, essentially solidifying her as the average twenty-something. But her mind was far from that, spinning with theories about the cybersecurity of the systems that controlled the precious oxygen and CO2 flow underneath the dome protecting them from the planet's harsh surface, the identities of those who would be on her team, and where she could find a good quality smoothie as fast as possible.

The smoothie question was answered easily, and she soon had a cold cup of some sort of mango-pineapple concoction that tasted downright heavenly. It was only then that she remembered to glance down at her phone, wrinkling her nose as she read the time.

5:26

Did she want to go to a meeting with strangers? Not particularly. But her curiosity nagged at the back of her mind, wanting to know more about this "top-secret" mission. If she didn't know better, she'd think it was the plot of some old spy movie. She let out a sigh and began walking towards the address that had been given to her as the meeting place. She knew what to look for, based on the satellite pictures that she'd been able to find of the place, and it wasn't too long before she spotted the coffee shop. The seating area was sparsely populated, and Lorelei picked out her meeting right away. A woman and a man were seated at a table clearly meant for more, and she made her way over before looping the strap of her bag over one of the chairs and sitting down, a crooked smile crossing her lips.

"This is for the mysterious Kronstadt Teichman job, yeah?" She glanced at the others around the table, her posture loose and casual, indicating that she wasn't in the least bit nervous or intimidated. Which she probably should be, but when was Lorelei ever one to be bashful or shy? The blonde woman was exactly what she had expected of the Kronstadt representative she'd been told to meet, though the man was unfamiliar. "Hey, I'm Lorelei. You must be Vera," She extended her hand to shake with the woman first, before turning to the man. "And you have to be...Owen?" She hadn't been given much on her potential teammates, but enough to recognize them.

Her Eridani accent was light and barely noticeable, and her voice was chipper and bright, reflective of her relative younger age compared to the other crew members. "To be honest, I'm kind of disappointed. I was expecting the meeting place to be something more...James Bond-like." Her quip was lighthearted and teasing, already starting to test the waters with these new and unfamiliar people.

(Interaction RIPSaidCone RayPurchase )

 

[timbothy]

Sebastien Schmidt​

Sebastien had arrived several days ago, pulling into the station on a small inconspicuous ship that dashed away as rapidly as it had arrived. He had quickly checked into his hotel room using an alias, bringing only the bare essentials with him. Since then, he had hardly left, spending most of his days sitting quietly, working on his terminal, and occasionally glancing out the window at the city outside. Such a fragile little place. A single hit on the dome and the entire city would turn into a mass grave. Any who couldn't reach one of the buildings with independent emergency life support would be dead in less than minutes. Sebastien had seen it happen himself, back in the Polaris Wars. These dome cities, they were unnatural and vulnerable, just an overall waste of resources. Underground cities, now they made use of every inch for living and utilities, not wasting endless cubic meters on these sad mockeries of streets and parks and plazas. They didn't crack like an egg if you managed to hit them, either.

When he wasn't internally mocking the city while looking out at it, Sebastien was working. He spent hours on end not changing position or making a sound, just intently staring at the display in front of him while his fingers danced on the keys. Endless keystrokes replied to messages, swiped away maps and logistical info, signed contracts and fulfilled others. The only time he spoke was when he was called by his "business partners", and the only time he moved any significant amount was when he took the time to exercise in the mornings and evenings. At this age, it was just starting to get harder and harder every day. Even when staff would knock on his door to clean, he quickly and politely declined. He kept his own bed tidy and made no other messes. Such would only be a waste of time and energy.

The only point of excitement during the entire stay was on the night before the scheduled meeting. When while looking out the window, Sebastien noticed a seemingly familiar face walking towards the entrance of his hotel. Not one he could put a finger on, but one that struck him as suspicious. Perhaps a former colleague, or a former foe. He honestly didn't know which would be worse. Even if he couldn't identify it, it couldn't be discounted as a threat. He quietly turned off his terminal, put it away, and pulled out a small handgun before standing against a wall and out of view from the room's doorway. He stood like this for a few hours at least, well into the darkness of night, before deciding he likely didn't know the face and had been mistaken. He still slept with his gun in reach.

October 14th, 5:22 PM​

On the morning of the meeting, Sebastien had checked out of the hotel as early as possible. He walked quickly and with purpose through the streets, just barely starting to see major foot traffic at this time in the morning, before finally making it to one of the station's parks. That was where he spent most of the day, sitting on a park bench and trying to feel calm in the space. It was quite a poor substitute for a real park in a real city, open to the endless skies and to a lush world around, but it was better than nothing. He avoided speaking to strangers and kept an eye out for anyone who might not be friendly. Fighting for both sides in a war was something of a stain on one's reputation, and because of it he would almost certainly be arrested in American or Soviet space. Those warrants only ever went away once one of them inevitably hired him again, but when in the service of neither he was an enemy of both. He was probably safe in Japanese territory, but it never hurt to keep an eye out.

The only interruption to his day in the park was a brief lunch at a small, quiet restaurant. After that, he went back to alternating between strolling and sitting before the clock finally struck 4:30. It was at this point he actually started heading towards the meeting location. While on his way, he got a call from a colleague and one of the few men who had the dubious honor of calling themselves Sebastien's friend, Grigor Miganovich. Grigor had been his earliest comrade-in-arms as a mercenary, fighting alongside him as his friend and later his second-in-command. Grigor laughed as Sebastien recounted his experience of the previous night. They both spoke in German, Grigor's Russian accent even heavier in the language than it was in English.

"You are not old enough to be this paranoid, my friend! You are like an old man who sees the Reaper in every corner!"

"Better to be paranoid than dead."

"Better to be dead than to live in fear!"

"The attitude of a dead man."

"And yet here I am, having fought in more wars than most warships, gloating!"

"And missing a leg."

"Bah, the robotic ones are better than the 'natural' ones anyways. Whatever backwater agrarian laid that bear trap did me a favor."

"You sang a different tune when you declared that you would hunt him to the ends of the galaxy and cut off his leg in return."

"I'll be doing him a favor, same as he did for me."

Sebastien paused as he got closer to the meeting place. He arrived a tad early, seeing a woman sitting alone at a table. She matched the photo that Sebastien had seen, but nobody else had arrived yet. Sebastien did not want to be the first to show up. He was not particularly skilled at holding up a conversation with only one other person. He stood back and leaned against a pillar, waiting for others.

"Grigor, I think I should go now. I've reached the meeting place."

"It still bothers me that they asked for you specifically. Stinks of a trap. Why you when we have so many other men available, specialized in security? Why pay so much for the general to do the job that the soldier would do for a tenth of the price?"

"If the general does the job fifty times better, they're getting quite the deal."

"You flatter yourself too much, geezer."

"Goodbye, Grigor. Don't run the business into the ground while I'm on this job."

Sebastien turned off the tiny communicator in his ear as other people began to show up at the table with the Kronstadt Teichman representative. He recognized both of them from the photos he'd taken the time to memorize: Lorelei Sunwoo and Owen James. It hadn't been hard to commit their faces to memory when so little other information had been given. There was no sign of the other member yet.

He sat down at a chair and briefly introduced himself. "Sebastien Schmidt. Security Chief." His German accent was harsh and impenetrable, deliberately so. Given the amount of time he'd practiced and spoken English, Schmidt probably could have spoken with a much lighter accent, but his German pride and stubbornness in general stopped him. "I must say, I was rather hesitant to take a job with this little information provided, but our new employer seems to understand the price of secrecy. Perhaps even overpaid it. Still, I think it would be best for all of us if more information on this job was provided as quickly as possible. I cannot work effectively or confidently in blindness."

RIPSaidCone

 

[thirteen]

To say that Anya was running late would be a major understatement. Traveling from the Indian federation was always a pain in the ass, though, no doubt about it. And honestly, there was nothing that she could really do other than tap her foot anxiously as she raced from connecting flight to connecting flight. It was easy to understand that her calves and thighs were not quite happy with her sharp increase in exercise, as she sank down in seat to seat after her routine sprints, parts of her body creaked and groaned. She was not that old, and she'd definitely appreciate it if her body stopped making her feel that way. She wanted to throw out a massive slew of expletives at her own government for being so restrictive at the border--Anya had to go about a roundabout way in order to get to her destination of choice. Those bastards. A simple few flights had turned into an endless onslaught because of them.

She had taken care of everything that she needed to take care of before she departed. Of course, her previous employer was quick to tame her arrogance.

"You're working for a corporation, Anya."

"Yes, sir. I understand."

"Which means that you simply cannot afford to do the things you do in Madraida. Our government is willing to look the other way as long as you get the work done. These other people are not so forgiving."

She had huffed and placed her hand on her head in the traditional manner of her hometown, the way someone usually did when they were making a promise of some sort. "I'll come back safely and will do my very best not to poke the big scary bear that is corporations." She said, but the sarcastic tone had made her boss throw a sweater at her with a roll of his eyes.

A part of her was excited. Tranquility Base was something that she had never even thought about. Her mind had always stayed preoccupied with what was in front of her, and not once had she considered something beyond Madraida. Sure, she travelled quite a bit, but it was always in the federation, never out of it. She wondered if she'd be out of her element because she was in a new land, but that thought made her laugh aloud. Anya had the good graces to look somewhat sheepish as the woman that had been apparently sleeping next to her snapped awake at the sound of her ringing laugh. Of course, the woman didn't quite think her caustic smile was enough of an apology, and went back to her faux-slumber.

At this rate, she really didn't need to rendezvous. With all the flights that she had been taking, any person who was dumb enough to tail her would have gone cross-eyed with the amount of times she had to backtrack, or even at the sheer amount of money she was spending to get to one idiotic place. On the last leg of the journey, Anya's leg was bouncing so much that she had already threatened the vodka tonic sitting precariously in the cup holder to overturn on her. As much as she knew her outfit was quite simple, Anya wasn't feeling up to feeling the uncomfortable feeling of cloying liquid rushing down her front, so she ceased her careless leg movements for simple rhythmic tapping of her fingers on her thighs. Her hair was styled up into a simple ponytail to follow the same theme as her clothes: the simple white shirt tucked into black jeans and corresponding statement black leather jacket screamed simplicity.

Well, she wasn't about to show up in dress pants and a blouse. That was reserved for important people and formal occasions.

- 5:30 - Tranquility Base -​

It didn't take the petite woman to snag the things in her possession and disembark. She didn't bother to turn over her wrist and glance at the watch--she knew quite well that she was past the alotted meeting time, but what were they going to do? Leave her? The entire investigation was about finding something--what were they going to do without the investigator?! Despite her inner monologue of reassurance, she picked up the pace, her legs flying once again in a sprint as she crossed the expanse of Tranquility Base to the meeting point. The straps of her bag dug into her wrist as her ponytail bobbed right behind her in tempo to her swift strides.

She came to the group gathered right as one of the others mentioned "James Bond," and almost involuntarily, a grin spread across Anya's lips. The Indian woman neatly slid into one of the free seats, her legs crossing as she leaned back in her chair. She listened to the security chief talk before speaking up. "Sorry, Indian Standard Time." She said with a grin, joking about the stereotype that Indians were late to most meetings. (Which was technically true if the bastard of a government didn't waste so much of their time trying to restrict access to other areas.) "I only came because I heard James Bond. I'm Anya." She said, before addressing the security chief's concerns. "Yeah, actually. I'd like to know that as well. What exactly are we dealing with?" She asked with a raised brow, feigning ignorance. If the head didn't disclose information, then she'd figure it out and bring it to Show and Tell for the class. There was nothing Anya enjoyed more than bringing up secrets for everyone to see.


tags: @ everyone
specific interactions: timbothy Hyzenthlay RIPSaidCone

 

[RIPSaidCone]

"Vera I presume?"

The man continued, taking a seat in one of the available chairs at the table as he spoke. His appearance and accent telling Vera that this was to be their pilot, Owen James. Eyes skimming downwards to the polystyrene box of food in the man's hand before returning to eye level, the woman gave him a small, welcoming smile. "You must be our pilot, its a pleasure meeting you, Mr. James." She extended her arm over the table to shake the Welshman's hand, her gaze turning to the crowds around them once again, looking for any sign of the other crew members.

"It appears you're the first to arrive. I haven't been waiting for too long, but I'm sure you're as eager as I am to get this little assignment of ours underway as soon as possible."

She tried to keep her tone light and pleasant, although she was certain that the pilot and the rest of the soon to be arriving crew members were well aware of the risks involved with such an undertaking, it didn't hurt to keep the atmosphere as lighthearted as possible when faced with such an admittedly daunting task. It was somewhat amusing for Vera to notice that she was already getting into the crew-frame of mind, considering things like morale at such an early stage in their mission. The majority of her new crew was yet to arrive still. Regardless, at least she was beginning her adjustments sooner rather than later. About to continue her conversation with the pilot before their combined attention was taken by the presence of a third party, a young woman that Vera was able to identify quickly as Lorelei Sunwoo, Eridian hacker extraordinaire, and Kronstadt Teichman's chosen expert of all things digital. A curious little smile on her lips, Vera could tell that the young Eridian was quite pleased with herself, giving a firm nod to confirm that this was in-fact 'for the mysterious Kronstadt Teichman job' although not much appreciating the woman's lack of subtlety.

"Věra Hašková-Parker, pleased to meet you, Ms. Sunwoo." Taking the Eridian's hand into her own, she accepted the shake before returning the hand.

At least now things were beginning to pick up, with everything on her mind, Vera wasn't too sure how much more she would have been able to satiate her boredom. Whether it be their pilot's well-spoken introduction, or the surprising amount of confidence that irradiated from their new hacker, Vera was certainly having a lot more to occupy herself with. Casually observing as Lorelei and Owen exchanged their own greetings, and were introduced to one another. The representative's attention was yet again stolen by the Eridian as she quipped about the locale of their meeting. Physically responding at first with a cursory glance around the coffee shop before her eyes returned to Lorelei, the Vestan simply shrugged. Admittedly still impressed at the amount of casual confidence that her new crew-mate was exhibiting. She had imagined that such a situation would be more intimidating for a relatively fresh-starter like her.

"I get the strange feeling that subtlety may not be your forte, Ms. Sunwoo. I'm confident that you'll be much more impressed with the ship that corporate has been gracious enough to lend us however, as will you I'm sure, Mr. James." She cast her gaze to the two as she spoke.

Taking a sip from her coffee cup as she finished her sentence, it didn't take too long after that for the final members of their team to arrive. Everyone had arrived more or less on time which was something that Vera much appreciated, a sad statement to make but a truthful one, if only the two already sitting at the table knew of how late arrogant Tau Ceti businessmen could be. The third teammate to arrive was the mercenary, their chief of security for the mission, and he looked the part. As the man approached the table and sat himself down, Vera had gotten a relatively good look at him, and had saw enough to determine that if you'd asked someone on the street to draw a picture of what they thought a German mercenary looked like, they'd most likely draw Sebastien Schmidt. Although her humorous thoughts on the man did not cloud the seriousness in which she took his profession, and the lingering caution that she held around him. Working in Navy Intelligence tended to make one suspicious of unattached mercenaries, at least from Vera's experience.

Regardless of her personal feelings on the matter, corporate had hired him, and Vera knew for a fact that KT had had an entire room of analysts working on this, selecting the best people for this particular kind of job. So there wasn't much for her to complain about, greeting him with the same courteous smile and acknowledging nod that she'd given to Owen and Lorelei, she spoke up.

"Věra Hašková-Parker, Kronstadt Teichman. Happy to have you with us."

Though where she assumed that would be that, she had been proven wrong. As the German continued to speak, raising the question of them all receiving more intel on the job. Vera was.. Mildly surprised. She had expected the question to come of course, they were all very naturally curious people from what she had read on their reports. But she hadn't quite expected it to come so quickly. Lightly nodding more to herself than to anyone else, the arrival of her answer coincided with the arrival of their latest and final arrival, Anya Kalai Singhla, known Indian criminal investigator and someone who came highly recommended to corporate.

"Everyone, this is Anya Kalai Singhla, though I can tell some of you already knew that." Vera said, before swiftly following up. "As for the security chief's concerns, they're justified. But for the time being I cannot disclose anything more than you all already know, I am however prepared to answer all of your questions when we arrive on the ship and get a move on. Right now the ship's currently waiting for us at the docks."

"Before we head out, I thought it'd be best for you all to meet prior to boarding the ship, as a little bit of a more casual get together before we begin the mission. So you should best make your first impressions and introductions now."

RayPurchase Hyzenthlay timbothy thirteen

 

[Hyzenthlay]

One might think that meeting one's teammates would answer questions more than raise them, but for Lorelei it was the reverse. Each one of them seemed completely and utterly unique, and together they formed a group that she assumed would never have met unless for a reason very similar to this one. The investigator, Anya, appealed to her particularly, and she gave her a quick smile as she acknowledged her reference; a reference that was, to be fair, quite antiquated. Her gaze shifted to Vera, who made an admittedly clever remark about her subtlety, or lack thereof.

"Me? Not subtle? Man, and I was trying so hard." She sighed, pretending to be disappointed in herself before taking a sip of her smoothie.

It was only natural for her to respond with some form of sarcasm, a habit which often got her into trouble. Glancing around the table and the people sitting before it, Lorelei made a few observations, albeit rather shallow and surface-level. Owen, Vera, and Anya seemed nice enough, each of them appearing fairly relaxed and casual for the moment. The German though, Sebastien...she'd never admit it outright, but he intimidated her more than the meeting itself. She'd done some shallow digging on all of them (though nothing truly in depth) and with a past like his, she was loathe to cross him or get on his bad side. Of course, she agreed with the questions he had raised, nodding along with them before turning her attention back to Vera.

Of course, a more casual introduction session before getting on the ship was a good idea from any rational sort of standpoint, but Lorelei was curious to a fault and if being on the ship meant getting her questions answered, then she wanted on as soon as possible. Such curiosity is what drove her to explore technology and cyberspace in general, finding that there are few questions that can't be answered on the net. She herself stayed in the deep web for the most part, rarely venturing into the darker areas unless she had to. Most of her hacking (or as she preferred to call it, information retrieval) jobs were given to her through deep web networks, making them harder for the authorities to trace and locate.

Yes, some of what she did was of...questionable legality, but as long as it paid well and it didn't directly hurt anyone, she didn't particularly care. And if it meant exposing corruption, interrupting illicit money flows, and putting assholes in a whole world of hurt, then she was more than happy to comply. Of course, it meant that she wasn't particularly thought of fondly in criminal syndicates, but that's why she relied on a pseudonym when conducting her business online.

"As for introductions," She shrugged and glanced around the table, observing the ragtag group of people who had been assembled. "I'm Lorelei. I'm pretty good with computers, or so I've been told." Shooting her new crewmates a clever smile, she took another sip of her smoothie and allowed someone else to go next.

 

[RayPurchase]

Owen didn't really get a chance to chat with his soon to be employer before the rest of the crew turned up. To be honest it appeared that they had all done a fair bit more reading than himself, all able to pick him out. He grinned at Lorelei as she introduced herself, he lent forward in his seat pushing his half eaten snack to one side and gave her hand a shake.

"Got it in one, your pilot/ taxi driver for the foreseeable future,"

That was about all he was able to say before the other two arrived. From first impressions the Kraut was clearly a bit of a nutjob. Not necessarily in a bad way mind you, but in the way that quite a few ex vets and mercs were, clearly a few too many blows to the head over his time. Combined with rather stereotypical German bluntness, he was hardly the friendliest of chaps, still as long as he did his job well, Owen supposed he couldn't really complain. Their private investigator was the youngest of the bunch, but seemed like a good kid. They seemed to have all of the areas covered, the technological whizz kid, the young private investigator, the wizened merc/security expert, and the corporate minder. Still as corporate minders went on first impressions she didn't seem that bad. After Lorelei finished, he raised his hand.

"Evening all, my name's Owen. I've spent half of my live flying to new and interesting places in order to shoot people in the face for Queen and country. Now it looks like I'll be ferrying you lot to new and exciting places in exchange for a healthy wage. So a marked improvement by my estimations."

He grinned happily, a rather toothy cheerfull expression on his face, as if he really was quite genuinely happy to be there.

 

[thirteen]

To say that Anya was also out of her element would be yet another understatement. This was getting a bit too much. Her occupation was solely based on an individualistic aspect, and now came the time to show and tell. Don't get her wrong, she could speak elegantly when she wished, but she often gave out the wrong impression to anyone who worked with her.

"Brilliant mind, but not a team player." She remembered the words appearing again and again on certain case summaries when she'd had to work with a partner.

"Y'know, it's hard to introduce yourself when someone does it for you." Anya said as she rocked on her heels, an easy grin spreading across the planes of her face. Her tone was light, indicating that she wasn't upset at all Vera for her introduction, but rather harmlessly teasing her instead. Anya's glance flitted to the woman whose reference she had just praised, though her fingers quietly drummed a small pattern on her knee. Lorelei--a sharp contrast of a name to who she saw in front of her. Now, Anya wasn't terribly well-versed in foreign literature, but there was a small inkling at the back of her brain that related the name to a siren and her call...and while Anya didn't think that Lorelei was like her namesake at all, she kept it filed away in her brain for interesting things. Both the name and the person had a mysterious aspect---and mysteries could always be solved.

Her attention turned to Owen, and there was another contrast that she identified fairly quickly. The man himself looked quite intimidating, yet his introduction was rather cheerful and tugged a smile onto Anya's lips. Besides, his cheerful tone didn't detract from the fact that he was a "Merc" for the "Queen". That, of course, was information that she'd have to wrangle out of him later.

So they had the computer whiz and the pilot. Not bad, not bad. The computer whiz seemed to be okay with her, and she didn't think that she was on the bad side of the pilot yet, so those were two people in the clear. Now for the rest.

"I suppose it's time for me to introduce myself now." Anya said, lifting her hand in a small wave. The woman looked rather casual as she leaned back her seat with her legs crossed.

"My name is Anya Kalai Singhla, as our dear boss introduced, and I'm your resident Sherlock Holmes." She grinned, referencing another aspect of culture that had been prevalent in ancient times.

She knew that she might come off as lazy or as too casual, but she couldn't be more focused. Her eyes flitted around, and while it may seem as though she was unfocused, she was in reality analyzing her teammates. Her eyes were quick to pick up on the parallel of Owen, a Welshman who seemed rather joyful, and the German, who seemed....well, quite the opposite.

Anya didn't care whether or not her teammates harbored a healthy dislike, but the last thing she needed on her plate was having to look over her shoulder in fear of a knife being stuck between her ribs. If she could get someone to watch her back, then she could investigate and meddle as needed. It was hard to do your job when your team hated you and wanted you dead, so she was taking every precaution not to tick them off.

"I will say that I'm not a locator. Don't ask me to find where you put your watch." She grinned at her own joke, even though she was particularly adept at finding things. But seriously, who liked being woken up just because your roommate couldn't find her other sock!?

--
tags: @ everyone
specific mentions: RayPurchase Hyzenthlay RIPSaidCone
indirect mentions: timbothy

 

[timbothy]

Sebastien stood quietly as the others introduced themselves. They weren't exactly the company he had hoped for. They all seemed a little too sociable for his liking. Putting up a mask of friendliness for long periods of time was never fun for Sebastien, and even when he was forced to it seemed like people were rarely convinced by his shows of general courtesy. Maybe if they had anything interesting to say, he would find it easier, but... well. A job like this certainly would stir up something to talk about. None of them seemed to be any more aware of the full details of the job than Sebastien was, which made him even more suspicious. The money offered had been nigh-undeniable, and much to Sebastien's chagrin it had come with a non-voluntary advance deposit. To a rookie that might seem like an incentive, a show of good will, but Sebastien knew better. That was already a threat. If they've paid you, they expect you to do the job, even if they claim it's non-binding. If you take that money and don't do the job, they aren't going to be happy. They'll go very far out of their way to try and punish you. He knew that from firsthand experience.

Finally, the rest had given a brief introduction, and it came to Sebastien. He gave the briefest of insincere smiles, not a cruel one, simply a practical one, and said his name. "Sebastien Schmidt. Security." He gave no further information, shook no hands, and asked no questions. He had done sufficient research on his associates. If they needed to know more about him, they could do the same.

None of them were Sebastien's usual company. Only one of them, discounting the corporate rep, was even ex-military: The Brit, Owen James. He was navy, though; respectable enough, but not the same type as grounders. Well, very few at all were the same type as grounders these days. It took a very special kind of person to willingly fight planetside in an age where one could simply kick back in orbit, bombarding faceless millions with bombs and kinetic rods, never seeing the ones you kill scream in pain and fall writhing to the ground. Hell, even if you did get beaned in the navy, it just wasn't the same. If you died, you died in an instant, vaporized or shredded or thrown unconscious into the vacuum of space. There was no cacophony, no orchestra of death around as weapons rattled off rounds; there was no sound in space at all. Just the hum of your ship, the commands from your officers, and perhaps the occasional deep boom or heaving groan as your ship took fire.

Owen didn't seem that type, anyways. More of a charming ace than a grizzled gunner. Sebastien personally believed that pilots never really understood how dangerous their lives were, and thus never appreciated them fully like grounders did. On the ground, you can take a shot and have the pain nearly kill you. That's the kind of thing that makes you realize what you're doing. A pilot, though; that's do or die. You either make it through the mission unscathed or you're dead, no in-between. Sure, your wing might take a hit and you might nearly crash, but your own body will be unharmed. It's the pain that teaches, and the pain that navy types never got.

The other two were both non-military, and thus Sebastien was even warier of them. Lorelei especially seemed like she could prove Sebastien's complete opposite. Someone who could have been like him, in another world. They both had military families, at least, and they both seemed willing to operate outside the law. She could have made a respectable comrade if she had followed that path, but instead she had gone on a different road; one where she lived in the underworld and betrayed the very nation that she had been raised in. Disgraceful. The Indian seemed less disagreeable, at the very least. A skilled investigator, not military but still official. A hard worker and rather smart, as far as Sebastien could tell from his research. With any luck, she and Sebastien would not become enemies. That was about the best he could hope for with anyone.

Sebastien waited patiently, having been the last to introduce himself. He needed more information soon, or else he would likely have to discount this whole thing as a trap and try and make a break for it. Though, if it was a trap to kill him, it was probably too late. Ah well. He'd survived likelier ambushes before.

 

[RIPSaidCone]

With the new crew now having introduced themselves to one another. Vera knew that it was time to move onto the real deal. Standing up from her seat at the table after introductions had concluded, she looked over the gathering with a slight sense of satisfaction, knowing that they were now not too far away from commencing with the job at hand. Her eyes not being able to help but momentarily gaze at the nearby crowds of passersby before they returned to the group sitting in-front of her, always vigilant of who was around, of who could be listening. Vera wasted little time in making it known to the group what was to come next.

"Now that you've all said hello, why don't I take us to our new vessel?"

--

Their journey to the docks had as planned been uneventful, though it had also been rather long. The group easily blending into the rest of the starport's inhabitants and visitors as they made their way onto one of the various metro-trains that ran through interconnected across the vast planetary structure. From there things had gone much quicker, though the train had been as packed as one could have expected, nevertheless it hadn't been as bad as the transport networks of some of Japan's larger and more populated starports. Still, throughout the journey her attention had been largely occupied with her new crew. From the German to the Indian, and the Welshman to the Eridian, they were certainly a unique bunch, and a group that one would rarely find together bar from of some humanitarian organization in the Saharan cluster. Although she had been assured by corporate that they had all been chosen wisely, and by the best people that they had, whatever that last part meant. She kept telling herself that as their journey to the ship progressed, the Verge didn't take kindly to failure after all. There wasn't going to be any second chances here.

In regards to that however, her concerns were less so. Though she had concerns on if the crew was up to the job of finding Kronstadt's most prized possession, her concerns on whether or not they could handle themselves in the Verge were again, less. Except for one of them, that being the young Eridian girl, Lorelei. From what she'd read on her file, or at least what Kronstadt knew about her, the girl had already accomplished a great deal in her field of expertise, and if this job had been anywhere else in the Orion Spur, Vera's confidence would have been much higher in the girl. But this was the Verge, the people here weren't as worried about if you could hack into their digital life. The people here resolved most of their most dire problems with a bullet to the skull, and were less intimidated by the idea of having their secrets leaked for all to see. Vera had experience with that during her time in the military. Seeing for herself that even the United States Navy, the most powerful entity of it's kind in the entire Spur, took a great deal of caution when conducting its business in the regions of the Verge that laid beyond its territory in New Guam. It taught her that the Verge was no place to be taken lightly.

Although giving it a second thought, she wondered idly if the German was worth the concern as well. Not so funnily enough for the exact opposite reason. He was definitely the type to attract trouble that was for sure, and a veteran of all three of the Polaris Wars? A mercenary too, fought for both sides at some point from what she had read. How was it that a person could be both desired for something and absolutely worthy of avoidance for that very same something, the man knew the locale, but Vera wasn't sure if his presence would cause more harm than good. She supposed that'd be for her to find out, and she'd already made a mental note to keep a closer eye on him.

Having been lucky enough to have gotten a train that had a route directly to the docks, they had at least had the fortune to be able to get off more or less at their destination. The group stepping onto the platform of the station where there was a direct connection from the platform to the various roads and pathways that connected the dozens of docks and loading bays to one another. The ambience had turned from one of idle passengers quietly breathing and the low, equally quiet humming of the magnetic lift of the train to one of both distant and immediate machinery working day and night. Engines of both larger size and more modest proportions blasting into action as the craft that they were attached to lifted themselves up, disconnected from their respective bays and into the dark, thin atmosphere of the barren world they were on. When it came to a dock such as this, the largest vessels, the ones that held hundreds of passengers and crew or thousands of tons of cargo were 'carried' out of the bays by smaller escort craft before being permitted to turn on their engines upon leaving the dock. A consequence of the immense size of their engines and the potential for harm that they had in comparatively small quarters.

That did not apply to their ship however, the ship that they would all be calling for home for who knows how long, and the ship that would be charged with safely taking them through the Senkyo Verge. It was an Alaskan-class Corvette, and upon approach its size could fool a naval novice into thinking that it was of a much larger classification. Ordinarily sold to the navies of the western powers in droves, KT had specifically equipped this one for their mission. With a new state-of-the-art stealth drive and engines, it was both faster, and quieter than any other ship of its class.

This was their ship, and it's name was Astoria.

--

"So this is where we're going to be staying and operating out of. You've all got your own bedroom and shower, there's a cafeteria on the level below us and everything about the ship you can find out by using the guide that you can download onto your phones or pretty much anything else you've got." Vera spoke as she led the group into the 'command hub' of the corvette vessel. A moderately sized room with a remarkable amount of technology confined to one space, ranging from interactive maps of the Verge to all navigational and operational data that Kronstadt Teichman had on the region and it's inhabitants, both individuals and organizations.

She pointed out in the various directions of the utilities on the ship that she mentioned, not taking a particularly amount of care in it as she had already informed them of the downloadable guide that would do her job for her in that regard. The ship was just as impressive on the inside as it was on the outside, technologically superb in every aspect and without a flaw in sight. Though it was notable that the crew of five weren't the only ones on-board. As each of the crew had already seen dozens of other faces go past, most only giving them the most briefest of looks before carrying on with whatever it was that they were doing. They wore practical looking work jumpsuits, similar to those one would see in a navy, but with the Kronstadt Teichman logo imprinted wherever it could fit. They all appeared busy preparing the ship to say the least.

"Since corporate's given you all a priority status due to the nature of the job, you're basically considered officers on-board the ship. So feel free to ask any of your new subordinates for anything you might need and don't feel bad for doing so, they get paid a lot more than your usual ship grunt."

"So, questions?"

RayPurchase Hyzenthlay thirteen timbothy

 

[Hyzenthlay]

Lorelei wasn't usually one to restrain herself or to stay quiet, but she spoke less than usual as the misfit crew made their way to the ship that was to be there home for the next...well...she wasn't entirely sure how long they were going to be staying on it. Her mind, as per usual, was bouncing from one subject to the next, and for nearly the entire way to the ship she had her tablet in one hand, fingers dancing over the keys and icons like she was playing an instrument. She wasn't, however, doing anything of the sort. Rather, she was looking up blueprints of what their ship would look like and where the biggest bedroom was located. Such were the concerns of the youngest member of the crew.

She thought she had a good idea of what the ship would look like before they got there, but she'd be lying if she said she had expected to see so many other people on board. Half-paying attention to what Vera was saying, her eyes wandered the ship, only snapping back to the group once Vera concluded her speech.

"Do we have to wear the same jumpsuits as those guys?" Lorelei had no qualms about asking the question, and even did so with a crooked smile on her lips. Before she even received an answer, she found herself being drawn to the screens and tech that surrounded her in the hub, realizing that some of the stuff she had only ever seen pictures of. "I'm still listening, by the way. Just..." She paused for a moment, her hand hovering over the holo-screen of the navigation console, before she flicked her wrist and the entirety of the Orion Spur was laid out among the group in a perfectly scaled model, one that contained all the planets and systems within the Spur. "Curious." Lorelei finished her sentence, her eyes reflecting back the soft blue light that emanated from the hologram that was spread out before them.

Their ship was marked on the map with a yellow orb, one that was miniscule in comparison to the cosmic features that the rest of the map displayed. With another twist of her wrist she pulled the hologram back to the main panel, watching the soft blue light of the display shrink to fit the screen. Then, realizing that she had likely caused at least a mild disruption, she stepped back towards the group. She was generally unapologetic for what she did in any situation, and this was no different. However, she knew that this wasn't the best time to be impulsive or exploratory. "So...when do we get to pick our rooms? Or do we get to pick our rooms? Maybe it's like university, where we get them assigned."