The Star Hounds [Inactive]

Dominae Abstergo

Dominae Abstergo

New Member

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Kal's End, Area C-54, Virgo Stellar Stream. 30,000 Light Years from Earth.

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Kal's End: the largest's pirate port in existence. Deep in the reaches of a dead system, the manufactured station of groaning metal and rusting pipe rests on a broken asteroid, drifting through the stars. It is here that Captain Ulili Tazira, owner of the Third Dame, waits for new recruits: at a table, nestled in the back of one of Kal's End's smaller black market areas, two imposing guards at either side. Not the most illustrious of recruitment centers, but in a pinch, it had to do. All around her the market bustled with life. Stalls with reeking, clearly illegal meats hung shanks on hooks, right next to carts full of plasma weapons and what looked like antique, explosive-type grenades. A man ran by with a clear bag under his arm, filled with a viscous, iridescent fluid that could only be nuk-ka, a psychedelic drug popular in the artistic community for its boost to creative ability. Tazira shook her head. Let them make their money their own way, but she was going to do it right. There was more wealth in gold and Empire jewels than in half-rotted alien hocks or pollutive fuels.


Riches and Fame, Yours for the Taking, a banner over her head read. Tazira put her feet up on a table, tugging her decorated coat closed. After looking over a couple dozen potential recruits and finding almost nothing she could use, she was getting quite bored. A haggard looking Danestat approached her table, gave a wary glance at her hooded bodyguards (only meagerly paid thugs, but he didn't need to know that) and bowed his head, as per his people's custom.


"I'm here to register for-"


Before he completed his sentence, Tazira leaned forward and scanned the back of his hand with a sort of strange device; a round, flat disc with a small screen on the top. It was no bigger than her palm. She looked at the reading it gave her.


"No," she said, and sighed.


"Sorry?"


"You're no good. Next!"


The Danestat scowled, but after the bodyguards took a step forwards, he turned away with an angry snarl. Tazira watched him go with narrowed eyes, logging the man's DNA into her scanner. Next time he ever got too close, it would sound the alarm.


Her scanner chimed, his information was logged. Tazira sifted through the list of others she'd caught that day. Eight. Eight potential moles in one day. The ICPU were really stepping up their game. Even though the scanner could detect most ICPU tracking microchips, there were bound to be ones eventually that it wouldn't find. Their agents would try harder next time, or maybe they'd do more than pay a few mercenaries to pose as spies. Tazira was hoping that day would come after she found herself a good set of hands.


The line behind the departed Danestat was still so long. Tazira kneaded her forehead, very unimpressed with how the day had turned out. Was there anyone in this useless system that would fit her crew, or would she just have to try again somewhere else? Maybe on Mawale, perhaps. A little too sunny for her liking, but she could tolerate it for a few days.


"Damnit, I said next!" she barked, crossing her arms. If she didn't find someone soon, the entire trip out here would be a complete waste.
 
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Kal's End. Unit 2047 had come here in search of a place to hide, and hopefully employment with which to fund his constant self-modification. However, his search for a place to lay low was failing miserably, as he had already spotted numerous ICPU employees in the station, identifying each of them from the database connected to his various systems. Perhaps finding a ship to serve on would hide him from his former masters.


"Riches and Fame, Yours for the Taking", the sign said. Unit 2047 was not particularly interested in the second, but the first sounded like a great way to sustain himself. So he waited in line behind a Danestat, and used his free time to contemplate his disguise. A small ICPU indicator had been etched into his plating, and he had chosen to simply put some tape over the markings. He figured it would be a clever disguise.


Suddenly, the Danestat in front of him was rejected from the recruitment and a loud "Next!" caught his attention. Jumpy approached the table, and stopped precisely one step away from it. He nodded at the seated woman, then at the two guards before beginning to speak.


"This Unit would like to offer his skills to your crew, Ma'am." He stated, his synthesized voice choppily pronouncing each word. As he finished, his lips curled into a slight smile, the most sincere expression he could muster. "I make maps. Very good maps. Some big, some small. I will obey orders, and need not be supplied with food or water. I also come with the capacity to unquestioningly commit acts of violence. I hope you find me employable." He continued, not giving the red-haired Atmarakch any time to speak.
 
Tazira raised her brow. She hadn't met this android before, she'd definitely remember his way of speaking. Most of them weren't exactly as... intriguing as this. The few manufactured beings she met were too cold for her liking, and unless they were employed by the ICPU, shunned most violent activities.


The Captain leaned forward and scanned the android. An immediate warning appeared on the screen, but it was different from the others. "Possible ICPU ties with manufacturing, but no known tracking chip detected. Unit designation origin: Zhisny." Tazira looked back up at the android, a slight spark lighting in her chest. He might be a little risky, but he said the magic word: maps. They'd need one hell of cartographer where they were going, and a fast one too. If his developers really was associated with the ICPU, he'd be made to be the best in the galaxies, and that was enticing indeed.


"Listen. I know." She flipped the scanner's screen towards him, just close enough that he could see, but no one else could. "And quite frankly, since the scanner tell me you're clean of bugs, that's fine with me. Your past, your business. As long as you can follow orders, and if your maps are as good as you say they are, you've got a place on the Dame."


Tazira reached into her pocket and held out a small, round metal ball for him to take. "That there is a key to our docking area." She snapped her fingers, and a bodyguard stepped forward. "Urz here will lead you to the ship, and after that, you'll meet the rest of the crew, assuming I find more today." For the first time that day, Tazira smiled, a lopsided thing that displayed her numerous, thin Atmarakch teeth. "Welcome aboard."


After giving the android a confident nod, she glanced past him. "Next up! No lagging, now!"
 
"Thank you, Captain. You will not regret this decision, I assure you. My history with the ICPU will have no effect on my duties, and may even serve you well should we encounter them in a hostile manner." He said, giving a curt nod. He took the key from her, opened one of his many hidden compartments, and stored it there for safe keeping.


He turned toward Urz, and offered one articulated hand prosthesis. "Greetings, I am Uni--" He started, before realizing Urz was already pushing past him. He let out a low robotic whine akin to a sigh, then followed the man through the dock facilities. Try as he did to 'engage in social interaction', the guard continued to ignore him. All he wanted to do was make a friend, but perhaps this fellow was not the friendly type. Perhaps his creators had built him for violence and nothing more. A pity.


When they finally reached the Third Dame, he produced the key and entered, letting Urz return to his post. He took a brief look around the entry bay, then found a wall to stand by and waited for the others.
 
The next one behind the android was hard to miss, an imposing figure which stood out even among the various species in line. He waited by reading the sign above the captain, not helping but smile as a sense of nostalgia passed over him. He made bet with on to wether the good captain would remember her lizard friend or his time in ICPU prison sense their last run changed him that much.


"Riches and fame:yours for the taking.."He read out to loud when his turn came. A humorous tone coming across his words"You must be desperate for a crew if you willing to attract that sort of in, Skipper. Yet not desperate enough to call on previous suckers like myself."
 
Tazira stood. "Well, bite my ass and call me a Kirilii," she teased. She clapped her old friend on the shoulder with a wide grin. "How you holding up nowadays Savras?"


It had been far too long since she had seen his big mug. In truth, she was glad he was here, at least there was one person in this lineup that she she knew she'd be taking for good, or for as long as he decided to stay. Tazira put the scanner on the table. This was one man she wouldn't be scanning for an ICPU chip - his loyalty was unquestionable.


"Desperate, maybe," she said. "But don't you worry Savras, I've got one hell of a plan cooked up this time. You think last time was an adventure? Just you wait til I announced our destination to the crew."
 
"Bored out of my mind, not enough people trying to kill me nowadays and my quarter actually fit me comfortably with no engine noise disturbing my sleep. Its terrible, what can i say, it must be rectified." He complained jokingly with a wink."I don't know though, difficult to top the crash landing on Mikonia iii. Though i will take your word for it...."


He noticed the scanner on the table, his mood darkening slightly. Placing his hand on his bionic arm as a phantom pain began to flare up.


"I see you keeping your security high this time..."


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Vix walks into eye-sight of Tazira just in-time to see him sheathe his blade, he scans the area with his eyes quickly before noticing her though the traffic of people around the area. Once he recognised her, he took perhaps a second or two too long staring at her before he decided to make his move, weaving his way through the people going about their business, though he didn't bother to wait at the end of the line, instead walking past the waiting mercenaries and specialists and heading straight to the front of the queue where Tazira and Savras were embracing each other. He gives a little nod to Savras before turning to Tazira to talk. "I don't need to wait in the rat-race, do I Capt'n?" He says with a half-smirk as somebody behind him complains about him pushing in the line.Vix had expected Tazira to recognise him from their conversation previously, and he was simply coming to claim his position as First-Mate abroad the Third Dame.
 
Unit 2047 wasn't sure how much time had passed since he got on the ship. He tended to lose track of time, either overestimating or underestimating it's measured passage. A maintenance droid, designed to clean the floors, zipped by him. Without hesitation, he walked after it, observing it's function and path. With all the single-mindedness of an animal stalking its prey, he followed the small robot deeper into the vessel, constantly trying to talk with it. Finally, it led him to the bridge, where he found a star map humming idly, it's holograms flickering in the light.


He froze, all joints locking themselves into place. A map.


A map.


Map.


He rushed to it hurriedly, keen on interfacing with it as quickly as possible. It was buggy and inaccurate in quite a few respects, but he had some time to resolve these issues. His form went limp as he dedicated all his processing power to modifying the map, making it as perfect as physically possible so that the captain may safely guide them wherever she would soon choose.
 
She shook her head, grinning. "Hey, hey, that's the past. The first dame may be deep in a active volcano on Kinjya-8, and the second might have gotten a bit... completely destroyed in the last excursion, dear Savras, but I sense big thing for us."


Tazira sighed at the scanner. "Unfortunately, yes. I can't keep buying new ships, even if I do have a bigger pocket to do it with. Poured some money into DNA scanners, and genetic security cannons, but I can't be too careful. If the ICPU catches us again, I doubt they'd let us off with jail time. Capital punishment, if I was to hazard a guess."


The Captain heard a new voice speaking, and turned from Savras. "Well now, great timing," she said, looking over her newest First-Mate, Vix. From their communications previously, he seemed like the ideal candidate to take over the position, good for keeping the men in line and fast on the uptake. She would have considered Savras for the job, but he was far too valuable with the machinery and guidance systems to be spared like that. On the last Dame, if they were ever in a technical bind, she had previously come to reply on him for repairs.


Tazira nodded at him. "Well met, First-Mate. As promised, your seat is reserved." After a quick ICPU scan, which of course came up clean, she held out both hands. To her people, to place both palms upon a stranger's was a sign of welcome and trust. It did get a little confusing when the other party had several more limbs, or sometimes none, but the gesture was usually appreciated.


"Savras, allow me to introduce Vix Gensine, of planet Woedant. He'll be my eyes and ears, and when I fall short, another great mind."
 
Ignis was just sitting in line minding his own business. It had been a relatively normal day so far, wake up in whatever inn he happened to be staying at, eat his daily meal, and head out to find work. Day in, day out, everything was the same. These days, it felt like his jobs were so easy, just catching criminals. That was alright with him though, he liked consistencies. They made it easier for him to live his life and do what he needed to do. This line, for example; it was such a convenient system.


As he pondered this, he was slowly advancing in position. Suddenly, as he was about to be at the front, a figure pushed past him, claiming the spot at the front of the line. This wasn't right. The nice, consistent system had been broken.


Ignis felt a rage sweep over him. He forcefully clamped his hand down on the intruder's shoulder.


"Get to the back of the line, s**thead," he muttered with contempt.
 
Vix was just about to thank Tazira when he felt a rough hand grapple his shoulder, he turns around abruptly and squints at his attacker. His hand instinctively reaching towards his weapon, even though he had long decided he wouldn't need to use it in this situation, though like all situations he takes a few seconds before responding. "Temper, Temper. That'll be First-Mate s**thead to you." He says before shrugging the man's arm off his shoulder. He shifts a little so he can keep the man in his peripheral vision in-case he did something stupid and then turns back to Tazira, speaking a little louder to that the man who grabbed him could hear. "Music to my ears. Sorry for getting here a little late, being on a pirate port can attract a bit of hate, though it was nothing that couldn't be handled by some slate." He lets go of his sword and lets the blade slide completely back into its sheathe with a small click, though he was still wary of the line while he turned towards Savras. "Good to meet you, any friend of Tazira's is a friend of mine."
 
Tazira crossed her arms over her chest. She moved behind her First Mate and Savras, and spoke to the stranger. "I apologize," she said, "For my man's jumping the line. I was waiting for him, but that was not something I would expect you to know."


She looked him over, pleased with what she saw. Abrasive maybe, but strong, and looked like he would be damn good in a pinch. Her scanned brought up no trace of a chip, and not much of anything really. It just couldn't pinpoint the man. Tazira smirked. Some mysteries were just waiting to be solved.


"If you're here to join, you've come to the right place," she said. "Now, I understand you may have a history, and quite frankly I don't need to hear it, but if you want to be a part of this crew you're going to need to get along with your ship-mates. Like them, no, but the first assault against any Dame member warrants an automatic jettison from the cargo bay. And I don't mean while we're on a planet. Is that clear?"


She watched him carefully, then added. "Unless of course, its just a quick punch or two. I'm not against a friendly brawl or two, might even put some money on the bigger guy."
 
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Sharp, harsh chords of dissonance echoed throughout the black market as Atakcha walked past mazes of vendors and carts, her metal wedges clanking against the ground. She held the scowling face and slitted eyes of someone on a mission. She was finally here; Kahl's End. Her purpose for being in such a place? She wanted... needed to join the Third Dame. On her last job back on Danad, working as a (to her standards) degrading pub hand, she had heard gossip about the resurrection of the third installment of the Dame. It was her chance to get out of that God-forsaken desert. With a bit of persuasion from a good friend who ran a drug cartel who made stops in Kahl's End anyway, he agreed to take her along. With nothing but one little satchel filled with a few different clothes and a trinket from her mother, she was gone, ready to never look back.


So there she was, walking around the treacherous market, looking for the infamous Dame stall. Never before was she so nervous. She hated that feeling with a passion as it rarely happened. She looked somewhat out of place, not seeing many others of her race around but that wasn't surprising, Bespolykh rarely have need to be in places like these.


With a sharp turn around a corner and a devilish grin, there she saw it; "Riches and Fame, Yours for the Taking." There was no turning back now. She regained a poised and cold exposure, confidently gliding up to the extensive line. There she stood among many hopefuls and a quite diverse array of species. She couldn't help but shoot condescending looks to some of them. "Here we go..." She thought. She knew she had skill and promise, it was just a mater of proving it to the infamous Tazira. She couldn't help glare at a slight quarrel at the front of the line but other than that she retained a lovely, "I'm bored and I'm better than you," gaze.
 
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Ignis was boiling with rage. How could this guy just nonchalantly disrupt the organized, consistent line like this? He was about to move in for a hit.


"No, stop," his conscience told him. "A fistfight would just cause more chaos." Besides, this looked to be a fairly lucrative job and he liked the captain's authoritative tone. She was no rookie, that was for sure.


His more rational side took over and he clenched his teeth and replied, "If the captain wishes, I will put up with this scum."
 
Tazira nodded. "Very well then. I'll be keeping a close eye, so don't let me down."


She reached into her pocket and pulled out a few more of the little keys, separating them in her palm. "For the docking area," Tazira said. She handed one with an orange band to Vex, and passed a blue key each to Ignis and Savras. As she turned around, she saw the bodyguard that had gone with their excitable android, Urz.


"If you wish, get to know each other a little while you wait by the ship. Never anything wrong with a little companionship, especially when you'll be watching each other's back. Just think, the person next to you could be the difference between a small scuff on the knee and a plasma bullet in your back."


As she took a step back to her table she paused a moment. "And Ignis? You might need to come up with a better insult than scum. I suspect most of the population of Kal's End wears that name with a badge of honor." She winked.


One of the waiters in line caught her eye. Pretty, and obviously kept clean - didn't seem like a thug, like most of the types in Kal's End. Must not be from these parts.
 
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Vix always found people quick to anger to be very entertaining to him, being level-headed made enraged people even more angry, and even more prone to displaying weakness. Vix's smile returns, unthreatened. "We settle our differences later, if that's your way. Although I do hope you enjoy your stay." He knew that they would probably get into alot of arguments, but the chance to outsmart him simply proved exciting, and he figured he could hold his own in a fight if he was pushed over the edge. He graciously accepts the orange band, and heads towards the ship, exoskeleton clinking on the metal below as he walks.
 
"You always did attract the best people, Tazi...Eh, Captain. I am sure we will get on swimmingly. "He said amused by the events with his new crew members, he studied each one for a moment taking in what he could about them. His eyes was particularly on the first mate as it walked away."Your sure about your choice of first mate? He is meant to settle fight not participate and fan them."He said with a little concern."Before you say it though, i am not looking for his job just checking whats on your mind here."
 
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Uncharacteristically patient, Kyren hung back. She’d come to terms quickly in life with both her unassuming stature, and the intrinsic nature of aliens to ignore anything below eye-level. (Depending on where heritage dictates their eyes be kept, she supposed.)


Instead, she distracted herself with a most virulent cocktail. Not of a distilled nature, but rather an intoxicating mixture of scents. She could identify a number of them, mostly illicit, all inhibiting. What interested her most however, was the idiosyncratic stench of adventure. It was everywhere, hanging from the dim lighting fixtures like cobwebs, draped around the heavy, sloping shoulders of the patrons, dripping from the lips of gossips and floating in the heavy air like motes of dust disturbed by the hollyhock hand of fate.


It was always this way, she thought to herself sourly. Before setting out on something new.


Absently, she readjusted the heavy cloak that concealed her armored frame and stepped forward. “Apologies for, uh, interrupting-” she began, not sounding very sorry at all. “But I’m looking for work.” Speaking directly to the scaled creature across the table, she smiled. It was a false smile, filled with sharp teeth and grim determination. But it was the captain’s scent that she liked the most; cold and coppery. A clean scent, a new scent. She would smile for this woman, and abide the crew, if it meant what the banner promised.
 
Tazira glanced at Ignis, then at her First Mate. "To be honest, Savras, my confidence in some things is shaky at best," she said, "But from what I know of Vix, we shouldn't have too much of a problem. And in any case..." She widened her serpentine grin, displaying the rows of long, thin teeth. A green liquid dripped from them, a neurotoxin that coated the inside of her mouth and seeped from her saliva glands. "I can always give them a few little nips if they get out of line."


While not deadly, the toxin was quite unpleasant to go through, as it fired off the pain receptors in most kinds of life - save of course, for those without them. Tazira had used it quite a few times over the years, sometimes to discipline crew members with less-than-savory ways of following the few rules they had. Mainly, the rule against touching the Captain in any unwanted way.


"It might be best if you headed off to the Dame, my friend," she told Savras. "The new members might need a bit of orientation, and I'd appreciate having a good head around them to show them the ropes." Tazira paused, then counted on her fingers. "Plus," she whispered, "With most of the ship's design made for cargo, not comfort, I might not have enough rooms to go around. I suggest claiming a room and locking the door before you're forced to share."


The Captain turned her head at the new voice, interested by its sound. Undeniably female, which made her glad. In this line of work, the gender ratio was often quite unfortunate. Another female on board was welcome indeed.


"Work, eh? Well, you've come to the right place."


Her scanner brought up nothing suspicious. No ICPU, and certainly no reason to be alarmed. "Myrish, if I'm correct? I haven't met one of your people in a very long time. What makes you think you're good enough for the Dame's crew?"


Despite the harshness of her question, Tazira's voice was bright. She liked the look of this individual. Something about her had a sort of spunk, and that was something she could get used to.
 
“Myrish.” Kyren confirmed her face impassive despite the surprise she felt at the captain’s insight. Generally speaking her people were isolationists, preferring their homeworld and its native population to, as the Elders called it, The Black. “The last time I saw any of the horned-folk was on Belkon-3.” She admitted with a shrug, “Even the Myrish hardly see the Myrish.”


Reaching into her cloak, she shot Tazira’s bodyguards a look that said don’t shoot me, I’m not about to pull a cannon out of this thing and instead removed something entirely flatter; a datapad containing her personal dossier. With another toothy grin she handed it over and crossed her arms. Assuming Tazira thumbed through it, the captain would find some ten years’ worth of private recommendations, records of armed conflict and service on both sides of several contemporary civil wars. “I was on Trike-11,” she informed Tazira, “and 12. I specialize in punching things, sometimes shooting, stealing or poisoning them too.” It was all in the file; it seemed hardly professional to reiterate.


“I can also cook.” She tacked on, “Without killing you even. Or with, if that’s what you want.”
 
Tazira laughed. It was more of a wheezing hiss, as her reptilian throat had difficulties making the sound. "As the sailors on Mawale say: I like the cut of your skin-sail."


She took the dossier, and quickly flipped through the pages, nodding all the while. Tazira's smile widened with each word she skimmed, which could be a disconcerting look to some, as it tended to let a bit of toxin drip onto her lips. She flicked her tongue out to bring it back in her mouth.


"Impressive work," she said. "I doubt most of the scum in this lineup have even a third of the experience. And, to be perfectly honest with you, I'd love a new cook. On the last Dame, we had a guy from a sort of vegetative planet. Plants, roots and nuts for almost every meal, it was enough to make me sick every few days. Atmarakch can survive for a while on leaves and such when we need to, but it never sits right with us. Meat, that's what we need." Her face took on an almost wistful look to it as she pictured a few of the meat shanks around her roasting over a fire.


"I'm glad to meet you, Kyren," said Tazira, using the name on the dossier. "And, from what I can see here, you'd make a good addition to the Dame, if you'd have her."


Note For All Roleplayers:


I will be updating the "Resources" section at the bottom of the RP's intro page with information that helps you understand the world. Check back every so often to see if there is anything that can help you! In addition, if any of you want me to add your created homeworld to the list, message me the description and I will put it up. In the maps section, there are images of the premade planets as well as most of the races.

​
 
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“That’s why I’m here.” Kyren admitted with a sort of noncommittal shrug. “I’ll take the job – I look forward to it, in fact.” She took the praise with good grace, it was expected. The ten years of botched jobs and assassination attempts that she hadn’t included in her resume dictated that she could hardly be overt.


“You’ll enjoy Myrish cuisine, I hazard.” She guessed dryly, taking back the datapad and stowing it away in her cloak. “It largely consists of things that require killing before they let you eat them.”
 
"Heh, glad i stayed on your good side."He said with a smirk."As you wish, Captain. i will go babysit the crew and don't worry about a room for me. I am fine with the engine room as always."


He began to walk off towards the ship, finding it being prepped in its hangar. There is a strange phenomenon when the crew sees the ship they serve for the first time, whether you are a rookie or a veteran, there is always a sense of wonder about it one couldn't explain. An excitement for the adventure to come, that least that how it was in his experience. This first sight was no different and to his surprise Tazila statement on him being able to orientate the new crew was accurate, the ship was the same the previous and he debated whether that was such a good thing. He put the thought aside and entered through the ships airlock.


"Home sweet home."He muttared before calling out."Honey, I am home! Anyone else in here."
 
"It's a god damn ship, not your soul mate..." grumbled Ignis as he stepped inside. Maybe he should look for the armory. It will be useful to know what armaments are being supplied. Unfortunately, he had no idea where it was. He could have simply asked somebody, but his previous argument had left him tired of conversation. He decided to explore the vessel a bit. As he walked down the hallway he heard some noises coming from the bridge. He stepped inside and saw a limp figure standing by the holographic starmap. Upon further inspection, the figure appeared to be a robotic form. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was nice that not all his shipmates were eccentric assholes, as they tended to be on this sort of journey. Unfortunately, the unit seemed to be in the process of modifying the map, he hoped for the better, so attempting to gain any information would have been disruptive and intrusive. He turned around and walked out of the room to find the armory.
 
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