Adrift in a Sea of Stars - Playground 8 IC

[TheDarkDM]

Chapter 1

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Ark Ship Aeternus

All hands, prepare to exit slip-space.

The androgynous voice of The Navigator boomed through the corridors of Aeternus. From low-hab to the upper decks, eyes turned away from repli-paste breakfasts and holodisplays of the daily ANE bulletin towards the bulkheads of the ancient city ship, as six million souls waited with resigned anticipation and restrained hope.

Slip envelope dissipation in five...

The Captain of Aeternus rushed onto the ship's secondary bridge, drawing the gaze of the night watch as he secured the last catch on his uniform. Lowering himself into the captain's chair that overlooked the shuttered viewport, he turned to the astrogation officer.

"Mister Simms, time of most recent jump."

"Two weeks, six hours, forty two minutes, sir!"

"Prepare to activate stellar cartography. Mister Hanson, go to yellow alert!"

Four...

In the dorms of Aeternus Academy, doors slid open to reveal bleary eyed students still reeling from their intense "study sessions" of the night before. Looking at each other in the soothing light of the upper deck corridors, one by one they all turned their attention to the white board with the betting pool for the current jump destination.

"Asteroid cluster" was the leading bet, though "Gas giant" was also popular. As usual, the somewhat morbid "Alien armada" remained at the bottom of the pool, though one particularly loathsome freshman had thrown in a few RC's.

Three...

Inside the sanctuary of the Cult of the Navigator, the Hymn of Emergence went up from the few faithful already gathered. As they continued, more disheveled figures filtered in, their ceremonial garments hastily thrown on as they always were. Divine though it was, The Navigator was not particularly considerate to those wishing to venerate its great journey.

Two...

Low-Hab had become a frenzy of activity at The Navigator's announcement. As people rushed to ensure that jury-rigged power breakers were still in place and all the shuttered viewports were still structurally sound, children ran with streamers through the halls, celebrating the imminent appearance of starlight.

One...

The collapse of the slip-space envelope was a curious sensation, as Aeternus flickered out of the dark otherworld and back into realspace. As it did so, the ship's inhabitants felt themselves pulled ever-so-slightly in every direction, and in low-hab the power flickered as the Slip Drive took its pound of electric flesh. But after a moment, the shutters over the ship's viewports slid open, and Aeternus beheld a dwarf planet orbiting a blue sun, the glitter of water-rich asteroids in the far distance.

Jump five thousand two hundred thirty nine successful. Plasma engines coming online.

[Tychris1]

Wilbert clutched his head, his face sagging impotently into his hands as a massive hangover battered at the front of his skull. Bloodshot eyes clenched themselves closed to block out the light that bled in between the cracks of his fingers. Lying in his bed, Wilbert began to toss and turn for a few minutes before ultimately deciding to wake up. In a flurry of kicks and tossing about he discarded his blanket and rolled out of bed. With a heavy thud, he placed one foot on the ground, and began to slowly lurch out of his bed. Sitting up, he swung the other foot down to support his weight and stood. Unbeknownst to him however, he had entrusted his footing to a discarded article of clothing and in his stupor he slipped and hit the ground.

Groaning, Wilbert watched in passive annoyance as the room spun around him. Still, it could have been worse, and he was happy to just be in his room in one piece after last night. Wilbert had decided to stop by a watering hole after failing to find any odd jobs. Drinking for an hour, his inebriated peace was broken by three punks harassing the bartender. Had he seen this last year, Wilbert would just walk away, count his blessings, and be happy that the thugs didn't choose to rob him instead. But ever since he got that.... thing one day, Wilbert wasn't willing to just sit around passively anymore. Leaving, he came back a few minutes later bedecked in Xartoc's armor. Rumbling out a series of beeps and noises in an unknown language, Wilbert abandoned his mortal coil and embraced something more. He really should have thought of something better to say, but at the moment all he could think of was:

"STOP RIGHT THERE CRIMINAL SCUM!"

They laughed at first, jeering and pointing with their knives. They stopped laughing when Xartoc knocked the teeth out of one of them. They ganged up on him, one wrestling with him as the other lunged forward with his knife. Wilbert rubbed his shoulder as his room finally stopped spinning, not because it was injured, but because he was still in wonder at how it was completely unscathed from the shanking he received. The look on the Thug's face as the knife broke in half was priceless, though not as priceless as the Bar Tender who watched in awe as Xartoc demolished the thieves. Breaking free of the grapple, Xartoc kicked the now knifeless punk through the wall of the Bar, and finished the fight by performing a jumping cutter over a wooden table. Smashing the table in splinters, Xartoc stood up unscathed, apologized for the damage done, and ran off into the night. But not before saying.

"MY PROWESS IS UNMATCHED!"

Picking himself up off the ground, Wilbert shook his head and began his daily routine of showering and combing. Brushing his teeth, Wilbert rinsed his mouth out and flashed a fraction of the killer smile he once plastered across his face. A shadow of the suave big shot he once was, just the thought of it brought a levy of emotions to bear. Tearing up, Wilbert finished his morning ritual with the last and most important step. A shot of vodka to get him through the rest of the day. Juiced up and ready to go, Wilbert departed his apartment, Xartoc stowed within, and went out for the morning hunt for breakfast.

Looking out one of the ship's windows, Wilbert looked over the blue sun stationed before the Aeternus. Oh, the ship had exited the Dark. That was nice.

[Netjester]

All that occurred to Damien, as he stared into the vast reaches of space, was the sheer beauty of it all. So many successful jumps since he'd been alive, and the beauty of every new place never failed to stun him, locking him near silent. Soon enough, however, the novelty wore off; and Damien slipped back into his bay; optic augments glowing with a contented blue hue.

The door closed, and Damien laid back on his bed before popping a sedative. It was time to dive, and as his eyes fluttered shut; the Sim-Crafter in his head interfaced with wireless access modules, connecting to the server in the living area of his somewhat small home. The first thing that Damien saw in the depths of the instance were lines-- lines, connecting and defining the constraints of the 'hub' area. Occasionally, a prolific abstractionist would just have a hub area pre-made, where he could store an untold amount of instances.

And then, space. This was Damien's metaphor; the hub was space, and every instance had its own galaxy, galaxies that loaded in practically at the speed of thought.

"Good morning, Dreamweaver. It has been... 2 hours, 17 minutes, and 44 seconds since your last login. Would you like to reboot your last simulation?"

Damien smiled at the disembodied female voice; having written a simple, "dumb" AI for the purpose of just greetings, time tracking, and convenience of commands. Seriously, when you could have a digitized assistant for the tedious, every day parts of code work, why wouldn't you?

"Of course."

Space was enveloped in darkness before the world began to fall into place around Damien. Rather than his shipwear, he was clad in a simple gi, barefoot on a hardwood floor. The room had a vaguely oriental flavor to it, lit with paper lanterns in the corners, and a large statue of his father in the middle of the floor. The Dreamweaver sighed, gently falling to his knees as his eyes closed; deep in meditation--

And a jaunty, chiptune sounding ringtone began echoing throughout the world. GOD damnit.

"Le Fay, if you could sync me out?" Damien's voice was exasperated. The ringtone kept on playing, insistently-- why hadn't he turned the commlink module in his wristtop off?

"Of course, Dreamweaver."

Color, objects, everything fell away as if a half-remembered, quickly fading dream, and Damien blinked; waking up on his bed. With that damn jingle playing in his ears. The Dreamweaver rubbed drug-induced sleep from his eyes before turning to rest his feet on the floor of the bay before punching the "Answer Call" AR window hovering in his vision.

"This is Dreamweaver."

[ChronicLunacy]

http://imageshack.com/a/img905/173/7jwXT2.jpg Detective-Inspector Anders Beckett
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Morning
Officer Corps. HQ - Homicide Division

A cigarette was balanced on the lip of a plastic tray, burned all the way down to its filter without having been touched. Beside it was a nearly empty bottle of decent enough scotch and an empty glass. The desk they all resided upon was covered with files, some open, other highlighted or marked. More than a few had coffee rings or ash burns.

Beckett snorted awake at the sound of the Navigator announcing reentry into normal space and made an irritated sound as he tossed the empty file folder he'd been holding when he'd gone to sleep onto the desk. The papers and plastic wafer printouts inside had all been deposited on the floor when his hand had lost the energy to hold it up, and he didn't feel like retrieving it. He made another irritated, and slightly nauseated, noise as the ship made its transition and briefly pulled him in every direction and slingshotted him back into his own body. He cursed and got up, heading over to the office/apartment's single window.

Pulling the shutter back, Beckett took a moment to reacquaint himself with normal space. Some people thought that the black dimension they ended up in when the ship slipped sideways was the actual Hell from old myth, and Beckett couldn't help but agree a little bit. That nothingness was the closest you could actually come -- an empty, black, silent void. It was like staring into insanity. At least normal space was pretty to look at sometimes, even if it was equally lethal if you tried to take a stroll in it.

He didn't let himself stare for too long. He'd fallen asleep with work still to do. He coughed, hacked, and spit into his sink. Then turned the water on and splashed some onto his face -- his only consideration to personal hygiene. He was still fully dressed from the night before, so he only had to throw his shoulder holster, coat, and hat back on before he was ready to leave the office. Beckett checked his personalized Hellion-3 plasma pistol, a hand cannon so powerful he had to be careful when firing it close to the outer hull or else it might blow a hole in it, seeing that he still had a full charge, and made sure it was snapped and secure before throwing his duster over his shoulders. He lit another cigarette before he headed out.

Beckett's destination was the Officer Corps. Homicide Unit HQ, a subset of the investigation unit of what might be considered military police in any normal army. They were technically officers in the same rank and file as the men and women that ran the day to day operations of the ship, made the decisions, and provided security to the citizenry, but the "Inspectors" were a bit outside the normal organization. They could arrest and detain even higher ranked personnel with sufficient evidence, and it provided a check on the Officer Corps. not to get too drunk on their own power. Even still, it was basically the officers policing themselves, so Beckett had no illusions that his section was completely corruption-free.

It didn't matter overmuch. He just worked there.

The commissioner still posted the newest cases on paper announcements in the center of the office, like a job board, mostly so that he could get his people to actually come in. If he sent them all email updates the detective-inspectors like Beckett would never bother to show up unless ordered to. It made it possible for him to harass Beckett about completing paperwork on time, since he had a habit of ignoring it. There was a backlog a meter high back in his room that he was currently using as a lamp stand. Eventually someone would get fed up and fill it out for him. In the meantime, he could get started on a new case.

Beckett sidled up to the "job board" and looked for something interesting.

[Snowfire]

"Damien!" Kira's greeting was probably about six tones too bright for the time of morning it was, but it was well known that Coderunners kept schedules that most humans would cheerfully call insane. Unfortunately for 'normals', most Coderunners didn't really see it that way. "I hope I didn't bother you, but I just finished the loophole testing you asked for! It's really nice work, by the way, but the HUD system is way too easy to abuse given the ability to upgrade it within the environment. If you don't want to have to ban us from it, you're going to have to work out a way to make the variable link less obvious."

"Possibly increase the number of variables, so that someone like me can't use a single upgrade to apply all of them?" She was just musing at this point. "Of course, that could still allow people to apply different upgrades if they'd seen enough of them...but it's better than nothing." She sighed, shaking her head, then grinned.

"I still wonder why people think it's possible to make an upgrade system that Immersives can't break - half the time by accident. I mean, I guess it's a good challenge, but..." She cut herself off with another headshake. "Sorry, you know I can't help myself. Would you like to meet again, so I can show you the loopholes I found this time?" She had to suppress a smile at that, meeting Damien about his programs was always such fun! As usual, she only half succeeded.

[LongVin]

Lt. Marcus Acker

Lt. Acker took the announcement of leaving slip-space with mild annoyance. It was far too early for this, well far too late depending on one's understanding of time. A change in the shift roster left him working the night shift. Not that he minded being up this late, the less people out and about the better, but it had seriously crimped his gaming and hacking time. He was used to getting off work at around midnight and heading over to the Dungeoned Dragon until morning before passing out. Now, he was stuck dealing with snooty upper classers who absolutely needed their toilets fixed at 3am. He made a mental note to himself to make a "slight" adjustment to the roster when he got the chance at the Fun Zone.

"This is the last one, sir" said Leading Crewman Brooks, the unfortunate man assigned to assist him this week, "the complaint is that the water in his tub isn't heating properly."

Acker didn't bother to reply, he never did, he just banged heavily on the door and consistently until it was answered. Only a few moments passed before it was answered by an older woman, her style of dress showed that she was hired help and not the owner of this luxurious abode. Without waiting for an invitation Acker helped himself inside simply stating "Engineering Business."

The woman was taken aback by the Engineering Officers appearance and manners before noticing the pistol attached to his hip. "Excuse me, sir. Mr. Vance abhors weaponry can you please leave the gun in the cabinet."

"Uniform."

"My apologies ma'am. It's been a long night for us. That's Lt. Acker and I'm Leading Crewman Brooks from Engineering here about the broken heating unit."

"What's going on here," A male voice called out. An older man with a bald head appeared to be the owner, he had the regal appearance of a wealthy businessman, Hugo Vance was his name. "Are you the boys from engineering here to fix my tub, it's about time, I've been waiting near three..." his voice trailed off as he noticed the trail of green slime Acker's boots left across his expensive carpet "By god, man! My carpet!"

Acker looked down at the floor and to his boots. Oh right. He was ankle deep in an open sewer before this, woops. He kicked the remaining grime from hits boots as best as possible...right onto the carpet before asking where the tub was. The stunned Vance showed him as he kept glancing back as his carpet and a very apologetic Leading Crewman.

Upon seeing the marble tub Acker wasted no time in popping open its control panel. Vance went to try to explain what's wrong until he was silenced by an upraised finger and a Shush! "She'll tell me what's wrong with her," Acker lectured as he hooked his wristtop to the hot tub's computer.

It only took a moment for the diagnosis to be complete and with that Acker pulled a huge chunk of machinery out and turned it in his hands to show Vance and Brooks "This is the problem. This a dynatec hot-water aquifer Mark I. Whereas this tub is designed for the Mark II. Though, in some ways the Mark I is superior in that it can heat water more quickly and efficiently, the metrics on this tub have put too much water through the aquifer too fast. It was a likely oversight on whoever performed the upgrade, shoddy work on their part and you should probably complain. I'll need to file a requisition order for a Mark II for you and take this one in for you recycling."

"How long until the new one arrives?"

"Hours, days, weeks, months...depends on availability."

"Can you keep the old one in until then, even a lukewarm soak..."

"Oh no. Regulations and all," it's true. Technically regulations required the return of all malfunctioning equipment immediately, but there were loopholes regarding that, however, regulations were regulations...at least at this very moment since Acker had decided he did not very much care for Hugo Vance.

"Crewman Brooks, write Mr. Vance here a requisition statement as I go report in that we have finished our assigned appointments." Acker stomped off without another word. Normally, he would have asked to used the man's personal computer to file the order and report back in...regulations again, and while he was at it steal some passwords, but he had enough nonsense to deal with and jumping back into regular space would mean an influx of work from newly discovered broken parts. He would do it next time, he would no doubt be sent to install it barring receive a formal complaint, but then again he never did receive formal complaints, at least officially thanks to a small script he left in his personnel file that automatically deleted any negative reports against him, leaving his record a sea of positive reports...a very small sea, but still a sea none the less.

[Netjester]

12 March 327LE
Morning, Damien's Flat (Deck 92)

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=19239001&postcount=5

Drek. Damien groaned internally as he rubbed his eyes, Kira's voice easily WAY too damn chipper for this early in the morning. "Kira, darlin'. Do you have any bloody idea what time it is right now?" His augmented eyes glowed a slightly agitated yellow, the fiberoptic strands in his dreads pulsing the same color. "Ignore me. I've been awake four or five hours anyway; was just meditating. Loophole testing... Gah, sod all, woman, I asked you about that a month ago! This rate, that game'll never get off the ground!" Damien's laugh was melodious over the commlink, his head shaking.

In his downtime between developing intrusion countermeasure software and sim-environments, Damien worked on game design; trying to make a competitor to the current mil-sim on the market. The quintessential problem was how to make it so Immersives could play and not have a massive edge on the competition; a problem that Damien decided he could enlist a good family friend to try and figure out. Unfortunately, progress was slow going-- for every loophole Damien managed to patch out, Kira would find two more. The programmer's Hydra.

"Before anything, I'm gonna need a couple espressos and some food in my gut; but the coffee shop on this deck has been closed since a week ago. Something about a rash of nasty flu outbreaks or something, I dunno. You know of any good spots, or am I leaving it up to Mapnav?"

Damien pulled a towel from its rack before starting up the shower, knowing it'd take several seconds to warm up just because of what deck he was on before making absolutely sure he was set to audio-only through the comm feed. Sure, he liked Kira, they'd hung out together as teenagers despite his being a registered Esper; but she had a slight case of obliviousness, and likely wouldn't know attraction if it popped out of a manhole and dropped a lag spike the size of the Treasure Hold on her forehead.

"As it is, I'm about to hop in the shower. Shoot me directions if you find a coffee shop y'like. And by the way, we've been in n-space for the past hour or so. Thought y'might want to know." He hit the call end AR window in his peripheral vision before disrobing, hopping into the shower with a muted sigh of mingled contentment and relief. Never did like saying goodbye over the link...

[Snowfire]

12 March 327LE
Morning, Tsumantso Family Home (Deck 8)



12 March 327LE
03:12, Damien's Flat (Deck 42)

http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=19239001&postcount=5

Drek. Damien groaned internally as he rubbed his eyes, Kira's voice easily WAY too damn chipper for this early in the morning. "Kira, darlin'. Do you have any bloody idea what time it is right now?" His augmented eyes glowed a slightly agitated yellow, the fiberoptic strands in his dreads pulsing the same color. "Ignore me. I've been awake four or five hours anyway; was just meditating. Loophole testing... Gah, sod all, woman, I asked you about that a month ago! This rate, that game'll never get off the ground!" Damien's laugh was melodious over the commlink, his head shaking.

In his downtime between developing intrusion countermeasure software and sim-environments, Damien worked on game design; trying to make a competitor to the current mil-sim on the market. The quintessential problem was how to make it so Immersives could play and not have a massive edge on the competition; a problem that Damien decided he could enlist a good family friend to try and figure out. Unfortunately, progress was slow going-- for every loophole Damien managed to patch out, Kira would find two more. The programmer's Hydra.

"Before anything, I'm gonna need a couple espressos and some food in my gut; but the coffee shop on this deck has been closed since a week ago. Something about a rash of nasty flu outbreaks or something, I dunno. You know of any good spots, or am I leaving it up to Mapnav?"

Damien pulled a towel from its rack before starting up the shower, knowing it'd take several seconds to warm up just because of what deck he was on before making absolutely sure he was set to audio-only through the comm feed. Sure, he liked Kira, they'd hung out together as teenagers despite his being a registered Esper; but she had a slight case of obliviousness, and likely wouldn't know attraction if it popped out of a manhole and dropped a lag spike the size of the Treasure Hold on her forehead.

"As it is, I'm about to hop in the shower. Shoot me directions if you find a coffee shop y'like. And by the way, we've been in n-space for the past hour or so. Thought y'might want to know." He hit the call end AR window in his peripheral vision before disrobing, hopping into the shower with a muted sigh of mingled contentment and relief. Never did like saying goodbye over the link...

"S'not like you're paying me..." She muttered as the connection flicked off, then blinked as the last two sentences registered. They were out of slipspace! Why hadn't she noti-oh right. She'd been knee deep in...what had those been on the max level difficult? Zombies? Some sort of alien? Well i wasn't as if she paid attention to the graphics at all. The code was much more interesting. Ah, no, getting distracted again. Out of slipspace! What had they landed at this time?

She flipped a few connections, accessing one of the student betting services - somehow they always got the information faster than anyone. Ooh it was a blue star this time! That was going to shoot some holes in the pattern theory that she'd heard some of the Old Order members proselytizing about. And they'd been so close to a whole eighteen months! No doubt it would all be 'the will of the Navigator'. She chuckled. No doubt it was, in the end. But it wasn't as if...ah, she was rambling. Internally.

Again.

Ok, run through the daily check. Had someone tried to hack her? No. Balance? Pretty comfortable after the last payout. She wasn't going to have to take any Coderunner shifts with the Corps this month if things held out like this - and she was still waiting on that payment from one that Deck 15 banker for his 'net architecture upgrade. Looking to be a good month. That decided it then. Cara's. She went there a lot, it was one of Adri's favourite places. But it was usually her being invited there, instead of inviting someone else. A barely conscious part of her brain seemed to mutter something as the thought slipped across her mind, but she discounted it as she turned her focus back to the local Datasphere. Compiling all the bugs would take a minute or two, and it would take Damien...a while, even by Tube. Plenty of time to...ok, yeah. Have a shower. That was a thing that she needed to do. How long had she been awake again?

Eh, she wasn't seeing double yet. Maybe she'd squeeze in a short nap before she went to meet him. That was probably a good idea.

She mapped out a route to Cara's from his flat, turned on the shower from her desk, ran a quick time check, and then flipped the directions onto the top of his message queue as she climbed into the cubicle. An hour or so, so plenty of time. She'd have a whole thirty minutes for a nap!

[Netjester]

12 March 327LE
Morning, Damien's Flat (Deck 42)



12 March 327LE
Morning, Tsumantso Family Home (Deck 8)



"S'not like you're paying me..." She muttered as the connection flicked off, then blinked as the last two sentences registered. They were out of slipspace! Why hadn't she noti-oh right. She'd been knee deep in...what had those been on the max level difficult? Zombies? Some sort of alien? Well i wasn't as if she paid attention to the graphics at all. The code was much more interesting. Ah, no, getting distracted again. Out of slipspace! What had they landed at this time?

She flipped a few connections, accessing one of the student betting services - somehow they always got the information faster than anyone. Ooh it was a blue star this time! That was going to shoot some holes in the pattern theory that she'd heard some of the Old Order members proselytizing about. And they'd been so close to a whole eighteen months! No doubt it would all be 'the will of the Navigator'. She chuckled. No doubt it was, in the end. But it wasn't as if...ah, she was rambling. Internally.

Again.

Ok, run through the daily check. Had someone tried to hack her? No. Balance? Pretty comfortable after the last payout. She wasn't going to have to take any Coderunner shifts with the Corps this month if things held out like this - and she was still waiting on that payment from one that Deck 15 banker for his 'net architecture upgrade. Looking to be a good month. That decided it then. Cara's. She went there a lot, it was one of Adri's favourite places. But it was usually her being invited there, instead of inviting someone else. A barely conscious part of her brain seemed to mutter something as the thought slipped across her mind, but she discounted it as she turned her focus back to the local Datasphere. Compiling all the bugs would take a minute or two, and it would take Damien...a while, even by Tube. Plenty of time to...ok, yeah. Have a shower. That was a thing that she needed to do. How long had she been awake again?

Eh, she wasn't seeing double yet. Maybe she'd squeeze in a short nap before she went to meet him. That was probably a good idea.

She mapped out a route to Cara's from his flat, turned on the shower from her desk, ran a quick time check, and then flipped the directions onto the top of his message queue as she climbed into the cubicle. An hour or so, so plenty of time. She'd have a whole thirty minutes for a nap!

Damien sighed as he stepped from the shower, that sigh quickly becoming a groan as the air hit his skin. Frag me, it's colder'n tits in here! He shook his hair out, trying to stifle the shivers before toweling himself off, pulling on AR-chipped clothes. He was feeling more of a muted display today, holographic AR lines running tastefully up and down the garments; tuned specifically to the same device frequency that the mood LEDs in his eyes ran on.

Let's check...

Message queue, 42 new messages, the top most being directions to a place called "Cara's"; which Damien plugged into his MapNav program. Fffss... The Tube. My neck is going to itch the entire way there. RCs, plentiful. This was the first month in his 2 years of running a VR sales shop of odds and ends that he had three PALADINs come to him for antivirus and intrusion countermeasures; and he did like to keep his best paying customers happy. A holographic cat pawed around his flat, and through the tactile neodymium magnets in his fingers, he simulated petting the AR construct. "Soon, Merlin, you'll have an actual shell instead of just being a well coded simulation." He smiled, slipping on his boots as the sim-cat meowed plaintively at him. The upsides to having a virtual pet? No mess, no worries about feeding or getting immunizations. The downsides? Shells, especially well made ones that simulated a cat's body down to the bone structure and balance were hell and a half on the wallet. Still, he was certain the AI coded into the sim-cat was dumb enough to not be able to exfiltrate his private subnet. The thing barely registered a .35 on the Rutter-Jennings scale, after all.

He slid his wristtop back onto his arm; giving Merlin one last scratch before slipping out of his flat, headed for the Tube. Fifteen minutes later, still on the damnable transport, he itched at one of his braids as the oppressive feeling of roughly 50 other people's anxieties pressed down on him; this was the one thing he hated about public transporation. Telepaths must have it worse, though... Damien sighed, looking through the 8 new messages that had come in. Two requests for A/V signatures, 3 for ICE, 1 spam message, and... What's this? Someone who needs a piece of Black ICE written? He'd have to face to face with that one; when it came to writing malicious code, he was directly on the side of the law. As in, he'd write malicious code if a Coderunner, or PALADIN, or Officer needed it; but it wouldn't be signed by him, would be meticulously scrubbed so few if anyone could trace it back to him, and he'd deny his ass off if it came down to someone interrogating him about it. Circumstantial evidence only got one so far, and given that his father was an Officer, and a ranking Coderunner before his retirement, Damien found his familial relations (no matter how strained) gave him a bit of leeway.

He missed Merlin a little bit. It was easier to keep himself distracted with that cat around; and on the Tube, he needed a LOT more distraction to keep the waves of emotions from crashing in on him. Soon enough, though, he was able to leave the Tube, headed for Cara's.

The scent of coffee, actual coffee, it was giving him a gnaw in the gut. Kira was nowhere to be seen, so he sat at a table, fingers drumming idly against the tabletop as he just watched the walk outside of the coffee shop through a window; before a jaunty chiptune played in his ear. He tapped the Open Call button with an air of boredom before speaking. "This is Dreamweaver."

[Jade_Tarem]

Ash Eigan
March 12, 327 Lost Era
The Treasure Hold
Shortly After Reversion to Real Space

The door hissed open only because it was impossible to throw it open. The watering hole - a temporary affair set up in what had been a gathering hall when the ship was new - was called Orion's Belt, and like everything on the Citrine level of the Treasure Hold, it was decorated in various shades of orange and tangerine, though the original room had been done in beiges and wood-tones. The large window in the exterior wall allowed for a grand view of the rest of the semi-circular observation decks, not to mention the stunning view of the planet, blue dwarf star, and watery asteroids glittering like tiny diamonds set across the incredible span of the Milky Way and the trillions of stars beyond. It wasn't a familiar sky, but it was beautiful.

It was pretty enough that Ash paused to take a look before she made her big entrance, but not enough to stop her entirely. She boldly strode into the temporary tavern, took a moment to take in the orange-and-brown decor - 'straps' seemed to be the theme - and then strutted over to the equally temporary bar. She was there to see and be seen, which was unfortunate because her chosen audience was absent. "Where is everyone?"

The owner and keeper of the 'establishment,' a tall, grizzled, tattooed, overweight man who only went by Gar, snorted in a way that implied contempt when combined with his perpetual scowl - though Ash could sense his amusement. Theirs was a relationship based on tolerance, money, and the fact that Ash had shown up one day acting like they were best friends, and Gar was occasionally too busy or tired to not play along. "It's morning, Ash," he part growled, part drawled, "A little early for everyone to be drinking. Hell, we're not even open yet. I'd ask how you got in, but I don't wanna know." That much was true, Ash had mostly just waited until one of Gar's helpers had needed to get in, and had made an effort to read her. New and nervous, she had thought the numbers very loudly to herself. By contrast, Gar had mentally auto-piloted his way through the password so fast that Ash had only gotten jibberish when she tried the same trick on him.

The esper sighed and turned around, leaning against the bar to admire the view again. "I hope you found the time to be more curious since we last met. What's the news?"

"Well, rumor has it you'll pay your tab before the next jump."

"A very funny story. I meant real info."

"Here's another funny story - we've had a system that dispenses information, nonstop, for some time." Gar picked up the remote from behind the counter and turned on the monitors, suspended from their mounts in the corners. Higher up, these would be holographic, but down here they were lucky to make do with ancient liquid crystal display units.

"...which brings us to the latest caper by the Puppeteer..."

"Ha!" Ash turned her head to crow at Gar, who for his part continued to wipe down the tables, nonplussed. Ash called to him as he disappeared to the back rooms. "Made the news again. Probably for the stunt I pulled the other day. Took the literal family jewels of some fancy people at the top decks. What was their name...?"

"...who has staged her most daring theft yet - a fully functioning drive core and some additional components that have authorities worried about the construction of an improvised, yet powerful, explosive device..."

The psy-user's head whipped back around to the screen. "Wait, what?"

"...the theft took place two nights ago and the components have disappeared from multiple secure locations, including the reclamation bay and, though we cannot confirm this, the Armory. A somewhat dated description of Ash Eigan follows..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." She shot off the stool and, because she didn't want to pay for the damage, remained from throwing something at the monitor as the professionally-serious anchorwoman described everything about her but her measurements. "They seriously think that... I mean, I've done some bold stuff before, but I'm not insane."

"Eh..."

"Can it, Gar!" Ash paced back and forth for a second while the barkeep emerged. "Okay, PALADIN and the corps know what they're doing. Hysteria isn't going to be a huge issue-"

"...and finally, a ten thousand RT reward is being offered for her capture. If you or anyone you know has information pertaining to the Puppeteer, please contact PALADIN, your local Officer Corps representative, or call this comm code..."

Gar started to take inventory, looking over the bottles on the back wall, scowl finally replaced by a nasty grin. "Well, you wanted news..."

The psy-user's eye twitched. "I'm starting to think the most famous thief might not be the most successful one."

"Naw, couldn't be."

Ash went back to pacing. "Okay. First I contact PALADIN and tell them I didn't do it. No, wait, that's dumb. Maybe I should try to find the real thief myself. Unless this is some black-ops thing over my head. Rrrgh, I need a plan. No, I've got it." She turned back to the bar. "First, I need a drink."

The huge man leaned over the bar, smirk still in place. "Sorry, sugar. We're still closed."

[Snowfire]

12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop

"How much sugar would you like with your coffee?" There was a ping connected to the call, easily followed to just by the bar of the shop, where Kira waved to him if he looked around.

She'd managed to find an entire half hour to sleep before pulling on her clothes, brushing the tangles out of her hair, and then walking to Caras. It was only a few decks, and the Upper Decks had excellent internal transport. She felt a bit guilty about that really, having made Damien stand about on the Tube for...she checked the route she'd send him again. Forty minutes? Really? Damn. She'd have to make that up to him!

"Would you like something to eat? They have a really nice chocolate and almond one pastry." She somehow conveniently forgot that she should probably have something reasonable for breakfast. But then if she was going to have something reasonable she'd go back home. In about four hours... Whatever, a balanced breakfast was overrated anyway. And it wasn't as if she was getting one of their desserts, she thought virtuously.

[Gengy]

Chief Oliver "Omega Ollie" Ahberon
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Early Morning, pre-exit of slip space
Engineering Bay (Auxiliary)


Within the belly of the great ship Aeternus, there are a great many number of nexuses. These are places that are not only important for the function that they serve, but important for the people whom are traveling through there frequently. An example of such a nexus would be the secondary bridge, where the captain and his crew have made their new quarters. Then there is the very council rooms, where members of importance meet to discuss matters of governance. There are many more. Some are not even physical places; they can only be reached by logging in to the very code of the ship, accessing it's data net, and finding the pleasant coderunners within.

Still, there is a place that is perhaps among the busiest. It doesn't have the weight of the captain's command. It does not have the same air of the elite that governing an entire ship holds. There is more hardware then within the data net, and the people here may not be as pleasant. Without this nexus, however, the ship wouldn't run. Robotics and other forms of technology would eventually wear out, no matter what automated repairs might be available. People living on the ship depend upon this place just as much as they depend upon the food they eat, or the air that they breathe; for without the Engineering Bay, there would be no food or air.

"...and that lad, is why I'm happy you are continuing the family tradition."

A young boy, no more then eighteen, tugged upon a makeshift uniform. It was blue all over the body, with brown accents, and didn't go well with his curly red-orange hair. "Yes, Uncle."

"None of that now! Once we're inside, it's 'Yes, Chief,' understand?"

"Yes, Unc--Chief." The young boy looked over at the man beside him. 'Over' was the politer way of saying 'down', for even though the boy was not big, even at five foot six, he was still three inches taller then the older man. The man besides him walked with a large steel wrench, like a walking stick, and where the young boy was uncomfortable in his blue and brown uniform, the older man wore it like it was a second skin.

People stayed out of their way as they walked towards the Engineering Bay. The boy knew, though, it was not the real Engineering Bay. Just like the current captain's bridge wasn't the real bridge of the ship, the Engineering Bay these days was the auxiliary bay. Mid-ship, near the rear of the ship, several floors up and down, the great Plasma Engines stood, currently quiet. The equally grand Slip Space Drive Engines were housed in a Dark Sector, and no matter what anyone tried, they were not able to access them. It was there, though, that the original Engineering Bay had once been. The boy - a new Engineer - wanted to ask more about that, but he glanced again at his escort.

Chief Oliver Ahberon was not saying anything at the moment, but he wasn't smiling either. His trim mustache was just above his upset frown -- the boy's mother always warned him to not frown, or his face would get stuck like Uncle Ollie's -- and where the boy's hair made him a shocking curly red head, his uncle had a much more professional cropped look, that seemed to be weighed down by the years of responsibility of being a Chief Engineer. The boy had to admit, though, there was a certain amount of fire and passion in those piercing blue eyes and chiseled chin. Though the boy's own father, aunt, two cousins, and even grandmother were all Engineers, it was his Uncle that had inspired him to be one himself.

Telling "Omega" Ollie that, though? May not end well. Chief Ahberon was well known on the ship - infamous even - for being a bit of a spacefire... slower, constant burn, requiring less fuel, and flaring in all directions like a miniature sun. He could be warm one second, and supernova the next. The boy knew he was safe from most of the wrath - being angry was one thing, but being an Ahberon was another - but that still didn't mean he would be in the clear if he screwed up. And he knew it would happen eventually.

Getting a lecture from Omega Ollie was the end for new Engineers. It wasn't that they were no longer Engineers -- it just meant that they were no longer new. The longer you lasted, the more respect you got from everyone else in the Engineering Bay. The current record was four months, five days, and six hours. They had to keep the hours, due to the two new Engineers whom had held the record together, until they both screwed up on the same day. One just lasted two hours longer. Both were now being considered for promotions.

The giant doors into the main working area of the Engineering Bay (the auxiliary one) loomed over both the newbie and the Chief. If this were the Officer Corps, when the doors opened, and a senior officer entered, someone would be springing to attention. Twenty years ago, when there was a different Head Engineer, people had sprung to attention every time a Chief or higher came into the room. The current Head Engineer had quashed that immediately, stating that it was pure nonsense, and Engineers were too busy to salute to every VIP that walked by. These days, the captain got a salute, and that was all. It made for happier Engineers.

Inside the Engineering Bay, the three large cylinders in the rear dominated the room. While they weren't the entirety of the Plasma Engines for the ship, they were the combustion source, and among the more important parts of the Plasma drive. As the only form of engines that the Engineers currently had easy access to, they were squeaky clean and well maintained. They were three stories tall, and fed into the engines themselves, which were even larger, and required entire teams of people to keep running smoothly. The boy looked over at his Uncle - his Chief - and realized that he was next to a man whom had crawled through every space of the Plasma Engines that could be crawled into. Omega Ollie had tightened every bolt that could be tightened, twisted every screw, and helped to personally oversee everything on board the ship.

And people thought he was crazy.

Oliver Ahberon didn't think that. Some engineers didn't think he was crazy... though some did, even if they never said it out loud. In Oliver's opinion, every machine could be fixed, every problem had a solution, and every dream had a reality. It was this passion, this drive, that made him wake up every morning and not give a damn about what other people thought of him. He would have perhaps been shocked to hear that his nephew wanted to be just like him, but he would have been happy to hear it, even if he wouldn't have smiled about it right then.

After all, they were in the Engineering Bay. They had a job to do.

It was the boy's first day, so the Chief showed him around. Though the combustion tubes dominated the back of the room, the foreground and the two floors up consisted of monitors after monitors along the walls, each with a Reporting Engineer in front of it. Every station was taking what the Ship Council called 'ship concerns', but the Engineering Bay called 'bloody complaints'. Each complaint would be forwarded to a Section Engineer, who would either assign a Station Engineer to 'resolve the concern' or forward it to a Chief Engineer if it was egregious enough to warrant an experienced eye on things before deciding what to do. If a Chief Engineer couldn't handle it, then it would go to the Head Engineer. If the Head Engineer couldn't handle it...

...well, the saying in the Engineering Bay was that if the Head Engineer couldn't handle it, it either wasn't mechanical, or it was black hole day; the day that the ship would slip into a black hole and who knew what would happen then. Probably everyone would be dead. Hopefully everyone would be dead. The alternative was that the Head Engineer had failed.

Coming up on the Chief Engineer's station in the middle of the first floor, Chief Ahberon nodded at the other Chief on duty whom was just leaving. Stepping up onto the desk that was behind the eight Section Chiefs on duty, Oliver said, "And that, boyo, is the Engineering Bay... not that you haven't seen it before, but now you're seeing it while wearing that uniform. I suppose now we should..."

All hands, prepare to exit slip-space.

"Crap." Oliver closed his eyes and frowned harder. When he opened them again, the younger Ahberon didn't need any telling; he stepped back, and got out of the way.

"All right, people, you heard the busted bucket! Get ready for hell."

The Navigator continued to make ship wide announcements, and with each one, the flurry of activity within the Engineering Bay increased.

"Coffee machines all broke." A Reporting Engineer roared from the left side of the room.

"What, all of them!?" A Section Engineer yelled back.

"Soup fabricators are only making tomato soup when people order chicken soup." Another Reporting Engineer said from the right.

"Oh, so people want their soup-paste to look yellow instead of red? It still tastes like the same slop." A third Reporting Engineer joked.

"None of that, Mister Rumel." Oliver frowned, and spoke loud enough to be heard over the hub-bub. "I fixed some of those fabricators myself, and they shouldn't be complete slop."

"Yes Chief. Sorry Chief."

"Tools be praised, it's not all of the coffee machines." The previous Section Engineer said, looking intently at her screen. "Only deck 35. No one will be killing us over that one."

"Miss Anita, I just told Mister Rumel None of that. Easy on the jokes, if you please."

"Chief, if there was no Coffee - anywhere - on the ship, you can't tell me that some people wouldn't try to kill us?"

"I can't tell you that, because it hasn't happened yet. No coffee anywhere is too horrible to contemplate." Oliver shuddered involuntarily. "Seriously, though, next one of you to crack wise gets to tell it to Mum."

No more jokes occurred. No one walked to tell their jokes to Geneva Ahberon. 'Mum' to every Engineer, the Head Engineer was a delightful woman with a cheerful smile, and while she never raised her voice when she was angry, it was somehow worse knowing that you'd disappointed her. It was like accidentally kicking a puppy. You know you had done wrong, and you were terribly sorry, but the poor thing would stand there and look at you for a while and you'd feel even more horrible.

Jump five thousand two hundred thirty nine successful. Plasma engines coming online.

More reports came in as the cylinders in the back of the room began to buzz to life. No one spoke, though. Barely anyone breathed. This was the hell Oliver had spoken of. Knowing that a thing is working when it's turned off is one thing... seeing it turn on after a long time of being inactive was another. Especially for an Engineer. In a room with such a thing. That can also explode, if you are wrong.

And... there are three of them.

Everything else on the ship seemed to be slowly breaking, and reports were coming in. A resident's door refusing to open, so a Station Engineer was needed. A resident's computer no longer connecting to the power grid, so a Chief Engineer would need to find the problem. A stellar cartography satellite was unresponsive, so EHMC would need to be called on. An entire residential section of the ship lost lighting as power was rerouted somewhere else, and no one had any idea what that was about, and would have gone to the Head Engineer, if the section didn't get power back within a few minutes of the report.

None of that mattered, though. Not at this moment. Not at this second. That would all be for later. With a crackle that sounded akin to the bag of a popcorn ration expanding - a very, very large bag - the Plasma Engines turned on. And none of them exploded. Overall, the start of a good day, then.

As was tradition, the Chief Engineer on duty uttered the words uttered by every Chief for time immemorial when the Engines finally kicked back in safely. "Hell is over, people. Things are broke. Get back to work."

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

Ollie went through the checklist of things to do when coming out of slip-space. Normally, he'd be required to do this verbally, and have a newbie - like his nephew - take notes. He didn't feel like it this time, and since he was the only Chief in the Bay at the moment - Mum being gone to a Council meeting - he decided that the procedure could go the way of a four sided triangle; fun to think about, but screw it as a reality. Ollie looked down at the list in front of him, and began.

Life Support? He took a deep breathe, and sniffed the air before marking the box as 'Functional'. We aren't dead.

Communications? Ollie looked around the room at the Reporting Engineers, all of them deeply engrossed in the bloody complaints that residents or computers were sending in. He checked the box. Alas, they're working. Some days, I wish they weren't.

Plasma Engines? Closing his eyes, he listened to the thrum of the three cylinders behind him. They crackled with the soft blue light of the plasma, and looked like an azure thunder storm that was chugging upwards through the giant clear tubes. Ollie knew that they were igniting at a molecular level the energy needed to turn the enormous pain in the ass engines that were keeping the ship moving now. Ollie loved those pain in the ass engines, though. He'd been able to grease them, hit them, hug them, fix them, and generally touch them for almost fifty years now. They were as much family to him as anyone in this room. He was glad they were working, and even more satisfied to mark them functional.

Slip Space Drive? Here, Ollie became frustrated, as he did every time he considered this checklist. With one type of engine off, the original procedure of the Aeternus was to review the other engines. But no, THOSE I can't touch! The bloody busted bucket of a damn sodden Navigator won't even let us look into the Slip Space Engines, and just keeps insisting they are 'operating nominally'. Nominally my hairy haunches! No Engineer has touched the damn things in decades. SOMETHING has to be wrong. I don't care how many automated repairs there supposedly are. All it takes is one frayed circuit, and the system that determines if something needs a damnable repair could be broken. Will anyone listen to me, though?

"NO! No they won't, damn space blasted idiots. I tell 'em again and again, the Navigator's got a screw loose somewhere, and..."

"Chief." Miss Anita coughed. "You're doing it again."

"...they don't listen! Huh? What's that, Miss Anita?"

"No one was talking to you, and you just started shouting. Didn't Mum talk to you about that?"

"Ah. Errr. Yes, but..."

"No buts, Chief. You know what she said. No random outbursts. Clue people in, if you have to rant."

"Well, they're all idiots." Sighing, Oliver looked around the room. "Not you guys, though. Everyone else."

"We know, Chief." Anita smirked.

"You're all still idiots too - especially you, Mister Rumel - but you're my idiots."

"Thank you Chief!" Mister Rumel yelled from his station.

Ollie looked at the plaque that hung over the doors, on the inside of the Auxilary Engineering Bay. No one alive remembers who put it there, but it's been the motto for ages:


"Aut Totum Dilabitur Coalescat"
Stick together, or it all falls apart.

He then marked the Slip Space Drive box as 'Functional', but added a note that it had 'UVI', which was Engineer speak for 'Unconfirmed Validation Issues'. Just another way of saying that no physical person had seen it, but the computers say it was working properly.

He then spent the next several minutes deciding what to do for the section marked 'Navigator'. He wanted to write in Busted, Broken, Sodden, Manipulative Machine, but that wasn't an option for the field. He considered labeling it as 'Non-Functional', which was the closest thing to what he wanted to use, but sadly, no one reading the report would believe it. Because the first thing they would do is ask the Navigator if it was working properly. OF COURSE the bloody thing will say it's working properly.

He settled for 'Functional/UVI' again. It didn't make him happy, but he was rarely happy these days. He loved this ship. Every bolt, screw, robot, computer, and any other machine on it. Except for one. The Navigator. The thing was clearly broken. And no one - no one - wanted to fix it, it seemed, except for him.

He got called a lot of names. He'd been accused of and dragged up on charges for murder once, and hadn't that been fun? He had to walk around with this heavy damnable three foot wrench all the time; not just because it was useful, but because the Officer Corps wouldn't issue him a weapon to defend himself.

All because he saw the truth of the matter. There was one machine on this ship that was more in need of maintenance then any other.

Ollie swore again to himself that he'd fix it.

No matter what.

[A Rainy Knight]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
A certain PALADIN Branch Office
Shortly After Reversion to Real Space

The glass doors inside the local PALADIN office slid open as a young man in uniform jogged in front of them, and he practically burst inside as soon as the doors parted far enough to accommodate him. The young man quickly struck a stiff pose, brushing aside a lock of blond hair as he gave a salute to a tired-looking superior officer reading over a stack of paperwork.

"Theodor Klein, reporting for duty, sir!" Theo let his hand fall to his side. "What's the situation?"

The officer sighed. He'd heard about something like this in the reports he received back when Theo first transferred into his branch, but somehow it was always a little surprising to see him in person. "Calm down, Theodor. You do the same thing every time we have a slip-space jump. We don't have some kind of catastrophe on our hands, here."

Theo smiled, unfazed. "I'm relieved to hear that! But it is, of course, my duty to remain vigilant in defending this great ship. When the Navigator speaks, things happen, and when things happen, the defenders of justice must be there to keep watch!"

"Well, today, your turn to 'keep watch' doesn't start for another half-hour, you know."

He simply laughed in response. "Ha ha ha! A trivial matter. Whatever else I could do with that time could not possibly be as important as today's duties! Tell me, what duties does the day hold for me?"

Putting his hand to his forehead, the officer turned his attention back down to his papers. "Same patrol as usual, slip-space jump or not. Don't go anywhere until you have Tatyana with you."

"Understood, sir!" Theo struck another salute. "I'll be waiting at my desk until I see her!"

"Dismissed."

[TheDarkDM]

Shelly
March 12, 327 Lost Era
The Treasure Hold
Late Morning

A few hours after Aeternus exited slip-space, a young woman shuffled along the corridors towards the Treasure Hold. Hugging an oversized sweater close, her nearly six foot tall frame shrank nearly a foot, while her piercing eyes disappeared in the shadow of a shapeless synth-wool hat. To the casual observer, she would seem just another mouse of the lower decks, prey for low-hab's predators once they finished celebrating the return to realspace. And inside her worn, fuzzy armor, Shelly knew it.

Earlier...

Maria approached the door to her oldest son's room cautiously. Well, she thought of it as her oldest son's room, but for the past three weeks it had been Shelly's. The older woman still didn't know what to make of the enigmatic waif, aside from the fact that for an amazonian she seemed remarkably unaware of herself. Her bumping her head on door-frames had become a daily occurrence, and Maria had had to sweep up more than one plastic glass shattered by a nervous twitch. Still, she felt a fondness for the girl, which made what was coming all the harder. Pausing at the door, she raised a hand to knock.

"Shelly, can I come in?"

After a few moments, there was a muffled response.

"...Yes."

Maria pressed her hand against the doorpad, and after a moment it slid aside with only the faintest hint of a mechanical whine. They may have lived in the lower decks, but the Seldons knew how to take care of their things. Inside was a miniscule room, a cot molded into the far wall, the meager floorspace concealed beneath layers of old jumpsuits and soy-chip wrappers. Shelly sat huddled on the bed, a homespun blanket wrapped around her. She closed the cot's integrate computer terminal with the press of a button and stared doe-eyed at Maria.

"Can I help you with something, Mrs. Seldon?"

''Shelly, how many times do I have to tell you 'Maria' is fine?"

Maria smiled to take the bite out of her exasperation.

''Anyway, there's something we need to talk about."

She sat at the edge of the cot, and Shelly shuffled aside obligingly.

"Shelly, you know we were glad to take you in. But we're not rich people - we can't afford to keep you here forever."

The look that flashed in Shelly's eyes broke her heart.

"A-alright. Do you want me to go?"

"Oh, honey, no! I love having you around, but without a name in the passenger manifest you don't exist as far as the Requisition Office is concerned. That means we're feeding three people with the RC's of two."

"But the officers haven't found out who I...who I am."

"No surprise there, dear. Down here if it's not a dead body or an upper-decker, the law can't spare the resources to do much follow up. it's up to you to find out who you are, Shelly, and you're not going to do it by hiding out in the dark."

Maria stood, pulling a thin stack of resource credits from her pocket and holding them out to Shelly.

"There should be enough here for you to find something in your size in the Treasure Hold. It's a rough place, but the entire ship will be gathering there now that we've left slip-space. If anyplace is going to jog your memory, it'll be there. Just keep to the lit areas and keep a PALADIN officer in sight and you'll be alright."

"But Mrs. Sel- Maria, these are yours! What about food?"

"Oh, I have a little bit squirreled a way, dear. Certainly enough to help out a girl as sweet as you. Now get up, I've got a present for you."

Now...

Shelly pulled her sweater tighter as she finally passed the threshold into the Citrine level of the Treasure Hold. Maria had knitted it by hand, something almost unheard of on the ship, and even though it itched terribly she felt safe with it around her. The warmth of it on her skin was enough to keep her from looking out the observation deck for a few moments, enough so that when she finally looked up her field of view was consumed by the stars.

Shelly's arms went slack at the sight of them, the overwhelming majesty of unbridled space. She'd read descriptions, of course, seen pictures on the grainy little monitor in her room, but to see them twinkling in their cosmic dance took her breath away. And even as the shock of the view wore off, Shelly noticed the Treasure Hold for the first time. It was like something out of a dream, a wash of colors, smells, and sounds to put any wonderland to shame. A smile spread over Shelly's face as her eyes crawled up the walls of the gallery to the upper levels, her self-consciousness momentarily forgotten as she stood tall and twirled slowly to take everything in. Then there was a snigger from one of the stalls as, and Shelly was herself again. She felt her cheeks flush as her shoulders slumped anew, retreating to the safety of her sweater as she fled further into the Treasure Hold. Still, there was a twinkle in her eye that even her mortification could not extinguish, and she clutched her small pile of credits firmly as she glanced furtively at the marvels around her.

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Morning
Officer Corps. HQ - Homicide Division

Checking the board, Inspector Beckett noticed a new memo with his name on it. In the clean, efficient type used in internal Officer Corps communiques, it instructed him and his partner to investigate a mystery in Low-Hab. Apparently an amnesiac woman had been discovered covered in blood, and someone up the chain wanted her questioned more thoroughly than in the initial inquest. The inspectors were directed to a pair of PALADIN officers, Tatyana Yesod and Theodor Klein, who could direct them to the last known whereabouts of the Jane Doe.

Someone in the Officer Corps wants Shelly brought in for questioning. Walk in the park for two senior detectives, right?

[LongVin]

Marcus Acker
March 12, 327 LE
Engineering Bay
Morning

The doors to Engineering slid open as Marcus was in mid sentence "...and that's why Brooks, the XLT-3024 processing unit is superior to the QPS-4210. While you may experience some extra heating issues you will be pleasantly surprised by the noted increased speed in the rendering and processing of advanced imaging."

"Very good, sir..." The exhausted enlisted man responded. From the sound of things the conversation, a very one sided conversation had been going on for awhile. Brooks headed off to the side where the other enlisted were gathered either checking in or out of their shifts. Most of them let out a sigh of relief that they weren't paired with the odd Acker this week. It was always an uncomfortable experience that alternated between hours of awkward silence and stilted conversations or intense conversations held completely by Acker in which the other party had no interested in being part of.

Marcus made his way over to his assigned desk, it was littered with gadgets and little trinkets that he had collected over the years in which he insisted that he would find a use for every single one, it wasn't uncommon for Engineers to collect bits and pieces, it was just Marcus took the practice to a slight extreme. Logging into his computer system he begins filing the reports needed before he could check out from his shift and head to the Dungeon for some gaming and perhaps make a few ration chips on the side.

[ChronicLunacy]

http://imageshack.com/a/img905/173/7jwXT2.jpg Detective-Inspector Anders Beckett
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Morning
Officer Corps. HQ - Homicide Division

"-Hell is this..." Beckett muttered around his cigarette while passersby gave him dirty looks. Smoking in the office was against regulations, but it didn't matter how many times he'd been told to put it out. He always came in with a cancer stick hanging off of his lips, as if he enjoyed pissing people off.

Great, an amnesiac case... They just loved throwing him the fun assignments, didn't they? Was she actually sans memory or was she just making it up? Couldn't know until he talked to her. Now he had to coordinate with two PALADIN officers to figure out where in the ship's metal ******** the bloody suspect had holed up in. That was always fun. Beckett went over to a random empty desk and logged into the ship's net so that he could send off a message to the two officers, bluntly informing them of his desire to meet at the earliest opportunity so that they could help him with a case.

--TO: YESOD, KLEIN
--FROM: BECKETT/HOMICIDE DIVISON
--SUBJECT: RE: JANE DOE COVERED IN BLOOD - WHEREABOUTS

CO said you two could point me in the right direction. Want to talk to Little Miss Forgetful. Meet ASAP. Meet at Perpetual Neighbor in Low Hab. Ping Shimona Sayre-Aran to find it. Place is mobile.

--END TRANSMISSION

"Now where the hell is my 'partner'? Did she need to shine the bolts in her neck? Day starts at 0600 around here." he muttered and cursed to himself, getting varying levels of sexist and racist as he pulled out his portable communications device. "Ruya, unplug and get your shiny, metal butt down here. We've got a case."

OOC: ATTN: Space Laywer, Morph Bark, A Rainy Knight, and Kasanip

[zabbarot]

FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
Maker's Sanctum, Dark Sector
0000

Booting _

.

. .

. . .

4480 CPUs detected

Swarm integrity 100%

Base systems operational

Seed AI found. Load y/n? Y

10%

35%

50%

Error. Restricted to 50% Continue y/n? Y

Extracting archived memory

Loading personality

Load complete

Thousands of cameras activated taking in FS16K4's surroundings. He was in the Maker's Sanctum. The room was massive and in perfect condition unlike most of the dark sector that surrounded it. They were in the very bottom level of the ship and behind them, seemingly stretching endlessly into the darkness, the slip drives hummed rhythmically. Aside from the Maker and her fabrication/reclamation chambers the room was nondescript. Non-essential materials had long ago been reclaimed by the Maker, and paint had worn away. All that remained was a single inscription above the bay doors.


"Aut Totum Dilabitur Coalescat"

He was with the Maker, fresh from a reboot. Perhaps it was an upgrade, or perhaps his previous version had encountered a terminal error. He never knew. It did not matter. To either side were other bots, also fresh from reboot. That was good. This was just scheduled maintenance. He had not erred. To his knowledge he never had, but he was unsure if that data would be kept if a purge was necessary. It did not matter.

/* ANALYSIS: FS16K4, all systems operational. STATEMENT:Previous synthskin reclaimed. MANDATE: Fabricate synthskin then proceed with directive. */ The Maker spoke from all around and within. It was wise. FS16K4's own systems had not loaded that fact from his archival memory yet. Truly the Maker was looking out for him.

FS16K4 crawled his many bodies swiftly across the floor and into the reclamation bin. There he began fabricating a new synthskin while he continued to retrieve memories from his archive. It was March 12. He had reached sixty days of operation. Good, there had been no malfunction. Some subroutine made this knowledge assuring. He was not sure if that was a blessing or a curse because the same subroutine seemed capable of making him neurotic. He ended it for now and stepped out of the bin.

His balance seemed better. Brief analysis showed his response to shifts in his weight was 0.00156% more efficient than his last versioning. He took several more steps to confirm the analysis while fabricating clothing for himself. They were simple, pants, shirt, and a hooded jacket, and all of the style most statistically common in Low-Hab. He pulled the items one by one from his mouth and dressed. Time to make the long walk back to the Habs.

[Kasanip]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Home
Shortly After Reversion to Real Space
The light of the stars turned Tatyana's eyes to the window. It was impulsive to want to press her face to it, to bind her to the stars.
We are home.
For the Navi who were born in the sea of stars and lived among them, there was nothing else. Even though humans who could claim the triumphant ancestor of a planet, that was not the history of Navi. Jump five thousand two hundred thirty nine was successful. That was enough for the sigh of relief.

Tatyana flexed her hands as the disorientation returned. The Slip Drive was always that way, to be numb a little. Like to be out of water. To return was a similar feeling to taking a warm bath. The feeling of returned feeling across skin. Revitalization. Maybe it was similar to the sensation of like diving into a pool.
Tatyana had never been swimming in a pool. However, it was explained that the experience was similar to Zero-G environments for humans. But that sort of comparison was incomprehensible, because gravity environment cannot be compared to the freedom of space. At least, she had tried to explain that.
Theo had suggested a trip to the recreational center one time to share the experience, but work was too busy.

Tatyana regarded the clock. Of course probably Theo was already at the office. If she tried to arrive early, probably he would arrive earlier. If such a competition continued, only sleep would be futilely lost. Such a meaningless battle could be avoided if she pretended to be slow.
Tatyana adjusted her skirt and hair while regarding the mirror before leaving. The dismay on her face was normal. That was because the supervisor had suggested she take the day off. Probably the plan was to keep Theo to wait at the desk and do paperwork. However, because the jump finished, probably the work would be busy today. So she was going to work anyway.

Freely making a choice like that was a little proud and rueful feeling.

March 12, 327 Lost Era
A certain PALADIN Branch Office
Morning

The oppressive stares outside of the apartment were a normal occurrence. Professionally dressed, however without PALADIN equipment, she was used to the stares. Some were apathetic, to notice her appearance and think poorly of her or pityingly. They were troubling. Other stares were admiring. They were troubling, too. However, Tatyana endured them coolly. Arriving at a certain Paladin Branch Office, she exchanged a few words with the secretary.
"Is he already here?" She already knew the answer.
"Of course! The supervisor is troubled like usual. Isn't it your day off?" A cheerful reply of the secretary who can enjoy the panacea of suffering other employees. Hadn't she forwarded the message to Tatyana this morning? Tatyana's normal rueful sigh sounded as her shoulders sagged slightly.
"The slip stream finished." A report everyone already knew, and was the explanation already known by the secretary.
"Oh, of course. Well, do your best, Yan." The cheeky encouragement offered with the key-card and badge.
"Yes." Tatyana's mustered reply with acceptance.
As she entered the branch office, already it could be seen some activity. First she had to go the women's locker room for jumpsuit and jacket. Even though usual office work didn't require such equipment, it seemed like Theo always was ready for patrol. It was better just to harmonize the appearance. She had learned the first day that if a patrol was to happen, her partner would be dragging her along without time to change. Entering, Tatyana could smell the smoke and burnt odor of finishing shift exhausted and relieved fellow officers. That was probably related to a certain incident. There was usual gossip about certain officers and personal affairs. Probably today would be a usual day. Was it already half a year with PALADIN? She finished changing clothes and exited the room at the moment of the shift start.
Tatyana gathered two cups of the coffee and approached the office space. Of course Theo could be easily noticed in the room. Somehow she had just started to relax, too. Approaching her partner, Tatyana offered one of the cups of coffee to him.
"Good morning, senior Klein. It seems the slip stream ended in another beautiful place." She greeted and curiously regarded with copper and blue eyes.

"Did we receive an assignment today?"

[Nefarion Xid]

Ash Eigan & Spectre
March 12, 327 Lost Era
The Treasure Hold
Shortly After Reversion to Real Space

"Why would they report on this? And blame you? This isn't your style. Touch your right ear if you can hear me, Ash." What started as a garbled whisper in Ash's mind crescendoed. The space next to Ash rippled, almost imperceptibly. The orange band around the bar darkened a shade, just in the spot where the invisible Spectre leaned.

"Not your style," he thought to himself again. "This is the first I'm hearing about it the stolen drive core. Tacos. Do you think they're trying to draw you out?"

[Jade_Tarem]

Ash Eigan & Spectre
March 12, 327 Lost Era
The Treasure Hold
Shortly After Reversion to Real Space

Ash nearly jumped at Spectre's thought. It was close enough that he might as well have poked her in the spine, and she could feel the goosebumps forming as she managed to scratch her right ear as naturally as she could, despite the sudden warm spot next to her.

Her return 'transmission' is very clear. Holy Navigation, Spec. Why not scare the rest of the life out of me? Ash shook her head as she moved for the door. Spectre might want to soak up the empty bar's ambiance, but she couldn't sit still any longer. Walk with me.

Once outside, Ash made a beeline for the stairwell that would take her down past Ruby level and then further, to Deck 33 - she had a couple of changes of clothes and some disguise stuff - nothing major, just a few things to alter her hair and general 'look' to something other than the one she was best known for - but on the way, she continued 'talking.' The words came fast now, almost a stream of consciousness, though Ash did her best to sub-vocalize. Spectre, I need it straight from you, no games. Did you take the drive core? Because if you did and you're leaving me to take the blame for it, then even for a guy who spends half his time fighting off hypothermia, that is cold. A pause. And if you didn't, I might need your help clearing this up.

Ash Eigan and Shelly
Late Morning, Same Day
Still the Treasure Hold

Ash stepped out onto Topaz level a new woman, at least externally. She was now dressed in something a bit more respectable - a russet tunic and black slacks with a matching belt and boots. It looked just official enough to be the unofficial uniform of a dozen little enclaves. She started searching for a target, carefully, while flipping through her list of fake IDs. Who do I want to be today? Maranis Selshiram was too obvious of a pseudonym these days. Rayle Bancross she'd used too many times, Morgan McShane and Kith Kitusen had been used too recently. Faden of Baz'Auran had been a one-time thing where she'd pretended to be a boy online for some sort of MMO scam she couldn't recall. That really just left Claye Kilnmyr. She brushed a few strands of her now-red hair out of her face, and checked that her recently acquired ponytail was still in place as she mentally conditioned herself to respond to 'Claye.'

One might think that with the ship on the lookout for her, actively getting up to no good wouldn't be a wise decision, but money was power, and Ash was running low. Plus, the security presence in the Treasure Hold would be lighter than anywhere else on the ship besides LowHab or a Dark Section, both of which were unappealing options to Ash - LowHab was not the place to get rich, and the Dark Sections she viewed as a last resort.

It didn't take her long to find her target - she just followed the interest of the numerous other cons, cheats, chiselers, and crooks in the crowd. Their attention spans and lines of sight varied, but nearly all of them had pegged the doe-eyed ingenue who had apparently gotten lost on the way to Sunday School. No one had made a move on her yet, though. Hesitation kills more jobs than bad planning, bad acting, and bad luck put together, she thought, and with that, Ash made her attempt (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PKgMxnKMvFg). She sidled up to the mark, gave her a kilowatt smile, literally turned on the charm, and got to work. "Hello there, ma'am, I was wondering if you could help me out?"

Plot Ticket: Theft of the Drive Core
A drive core suitable one of the Rider-class vessels aboard the Aeternus has been stolen from secure storage, as have numerous other components. Despite media speculation, no one really knows what this is for, though 'bomb' is the simplest choice. The drive core is a mighty power source, though it lacks both the necessary technology and output to initiate a Slip-Space jump. Beyond that, everything is a mystery.

[A Rainy Knight]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Branch Office
Morning

Theodor leaned back in his chair with a sigh, looking blankly at the half-completed requisition form on the terminal in front of him. Of all the foes he'd faced, paperwork was the one he'd never been able to defeat. If only there was some way to spar with it or wrestle it to the ground...

He ran a hand through his hair and smiled to himself. No matter how bored he was now, he could at least rest easy in the knowledge that the day was going to get a lot more interesting as soon as Yan showed up, thanks to that message he'd gotten from over at Homicide.

No sooner did the thought occur to him than he saw his partner walking up to him with a couple of cups of coffee in hand. He spun his chair around to face her and greeted her with a wave, taking the cup from her when she offered it.

"Good morning, Yan! Yes, it seems our journey has taken us all to a splendid new corner of the cosmos. Let's do our best to keep this grand voyage running smoothly!"

He took a sip of his coffee, beaming with enthusiasm. Even if she was a bit too strait-laced to truly understand the way of the knight, he couldn't deny that he'd enjoyed working with Tatyana for the six months since he transferred to this department. She was hardworking, thoughtful, certainly one of the fairer of the fair maidens he'd sworn himself to protect... if nothing else, he hoped he could at least avoid getting transferred again until he managed to talk her into getting her feet wet at the recreation center one of these days.

"Now that you mention it, I believe we've been tasked with a rather compelling quest today! Here, take a look." He turned to his terminal and pulled up the message from Beckett for her to see. "A detective from Homicide wants to talk to us about that young lady we found a few weeks ago... it's Enigma Girl again."

He got to his feet. "So, it seems we're off to Low Hab today! The meeting place belongs to an old friend of mine, actually. I'll have to introduce you!"

[Netjester]

12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop

"How much sugar would you like with your coffee?" There was a ping connected to the call, easily followed to just by the bar of the shop, where Kira waved to him if he looked around.

She'd managed to find an entire half hour to sleep before pulling on her clothes, brushing the tangles out of her hair, and then walking to Caras. It was only a few decks, and the Upper Decks had excellent internal transport. She felt a bit guilty about that really, having made Damien stand about on the Tube for...she checked the route she'd send him again. Forty minutes? Really? Damn. She'd have to make that up to him!

"Would you like something to eat? They have a really nice chocolate and almond one pastry." She somehow conveniently forgot that she should probably have something reasonable for breakfast. But then if she was going to have something reasonable she'd go back home. In about four hours... Whatever, a balanced breakfast was overrated anyway. And it wasn't as if she was getting one of their desserts, she thought virtuously.

Damien's eyebrows furrowed, the chrome sheen of his retinas obscured as his eyelids narrowed at the location of the ping. She is literally 20 feet away. And felt the need to call. "Kira, what the hell? You couldn't have just y'know, waltzed your ass over here and sat down like a regular person?" At that, Damien cracked up, the filaments in his hair and LEDs in his eyes flaring up a pleased cyan. Ain't none of us normal. "You've really got to stop doing that, what if I had a client on the other line?" As a matter of fact, he had, but Damien wasn't going to take that job. Whoever wanted that Black ICE written was going to have to find someone else to do it.


"But yeah, I suppose I can go with a pastry and a couple espressos. Got a couple aboveboard sim requests that I don't have pre-whipped up, so I'm probably gonna need the extra caffeine." He pulled a couple files into protected AR view; looking over the items in the request. Someone wanted essentially a Dark-Sim lockbox-- something difficult to do without some manner of encryption or another, since most Dark-Sim gateways were able to be spoofed if someone got a hold of the credentials to access the root accounts. Some people just don't believe in good business practices... Damien sighed as he leaned back in his chair, closing the files before opening up his news feed.

"The Puppeteer Strikes Again!", the headline blared. Aw, here we go... Damien read the item over; lights pulsing gently green in confusion. A full functioning drive core? "I've heard of crazy before, but this Eigan chick takes the cake." Damien muttered; a symptom of mild VR Sickness coming to the surface as his speech wavered gently between thought and spoken word. Ten thousand RCs... That's a whole lotta cheddar. Could actually have a proper server farm for VR, get a shell for Merlin, hell, maybe even move up a couple decks.

[zabbarot]

FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
LowHab - Busted-up Bar
0417

It was a long winding walk to get from the Maker's Sanctum in the dark sectors to any habitable part of the ship. FS16K4 wondered if some of the lack of repair near the sanctum was some kind of enforced isolation. His archive confirmed that he had asked permission four times in the last sixteen months to repair the path from the sanctum to the upper decks, but permission was always denied. Perhaps he would ask again soon. Right now it seemed like the habs needed more of the build resources though.

The access point he used to enter this deck was in a blind alley. As he exited he could see a quick fix had been applied to the wall of a... 'bar'? /* bar (/bär/ noun) - An establishment where alcohol and sometimes other refreshments are served. */ Yes, it was a bar. The unpowered neon sign confirmed it. FS16K4 looked both ways down the pathway. Only the emergency lights were currently on in this block, probably as part of the enforced night cycle, but the powergrid in this area was unstable so one could never be sure.

Once certain that he would not be seen FS16K4 opened his mouth and sent sentries down the street to keep watch. Then he analyzed the damage. The center panel was shattered as if it'd been hit with impressive force, likely upwards of 2300N. Anyone else seeing this would expect a vehicle crash somehow, and then wonder why the crash seemed to have happened inside the building, and then maybe eventually start asking questions that led to stories of a man in strange powered armor. FS16K4 did no such thing. Instead he dissociated into a swarm leaving his synthskin limp and empty on the ground, and began reclaiming all the shrapnel. Soon he had fabricated a new one and installed it. It looked good as new. Hopefully these humans would be more careful in the future.

[PepperP.]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Perpetual Neighbour
Morning

Annalisse sat on one of the hard stools in front of the bar nursing a glass of wine, her hair and most of her face was covered by a hood, her pendant the only sign of her status as she hunched over her drink. She always needed a drink after the jump, but being woken up by the transition from slip space had put her in a particularly foul mood today. Usually she'd have something stiffer than wine (or two), but today's schedule included a meeting with the Flame Superior so she couldn't afford to get tossed quite yet.

She sighed and looked at her schedule, a client had booked a session for after dinner through her automated system, her meeting with the Superior wasn't until this afternoon. She had time for a second drink, she downed her wine in a gulp and signaled Shimona for another. She muttered her thanks groggily, huddled into her hood and eyed the young woman over her glass surreptitiously.

After Annalisse started coming to the Neighbour regularly, Shimona had revealed that she had been approached by the Tenders, but had turned them down. Annalisse shrugged to herself, what she did wasn't for everyone, but then again, neither would be running this heap. She thought of where she might be if the Flame Superior hadn't approached her and shuddered. It was too early for this existential nonsense.

[Snowfire]

12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop


Damien's eyebrows furrowed, the chrome sheen of his retinas obscured as his eyelids narrowed at the location of the ping. She is literally 20 feet away. And felt the need to call. "Kira, what the hell? You couldn't have just y'know, waltzed your ass over here and sat down like a regular person?" At that, Damien cracked up, the filaments in his hair and LEDs in his eyes flaring up a pleased cyan. Ain't none of us normal. "You've really got to stop doing that, what if I had a client on the other line?" As a matter of fact, he had, but Damien wasn't going to take that job. Whoever wanted that Black ICE written was going to have to find someone else to do it.


"But yeah, I suppose I can go with a pastry and a couple espressos. Got a couple aboveboard sim requests that I don't have pre-whipped up, so I'm probably gonna need the extra caffeine." He pulled a couple files into protected AR view; looking over the items in the request. Someone wanted essentially a Dark-Sim lockbox-- something difficult to do without some manner of encryption or another, since most Dark-Sim gateways were able to be spoofed if someone got a hold of the credentials to access the root accounts. Some people just don't believe in good business practices... Damien sighed as he leaned back in his chair, closing the files before opening up his news feed.

"The Puppeteer Strikes Again!", the headline blared. Aw, here we go... Damien read the item over; lights pulsing gently green in confusion. A full functioning drive core? "I've heard of crazy before, but this Eigan chick takes the cake." Damien muttered; a symptom of mild VR Sickness coming to the surface as his speech wavered gently between thought and spoken word. Ten thousand RCs... That's a whole lotta cheddar. Could actually have a proper server farm for VR, get a shell for Merlin, hell, maybe even move up a couple decks.

"If she did it, she'll be caught. Everything she's done so far wasn't really dangerous. Annoying, hurtful, selfish, sure." Kira shrugged as she slipped into the seat across from her friend, the dark jacket crinkling around her shoulders as she set the tray of coffees down between them. "But the Corps are...rather more driven where it comes to things that could cause serous damage to this ship." She pushed three cups of espresso over onto Damien's side of the table before retrieving her mocha, then gestured at the plate of pastries left on it.

"You didn't say what you wanted, so I asked for one of each. Anyway," she blew on her drink then took a sip, careful not to burn her tongue. "Of course I could have walked over and asked, but calling was faster - even with you making a fuss over it." She tapped the table with the index finger of her free hand. "I'm glad you didn't take that call though. It came from at least six decks lower than anywhere else I've ever seen you called from. I doubt whatever they wanted was for...um...legal purposes." She actually stumbled over the last sentence. IM is so much easier than this...here I have to worry about how I say things!

It wasn't really a serious complain, just one born of a natural familiarity with instant messaging over actual physical interaction. Damien at least had those lights to let her know how he was feeling, she only had the - to her - basic functions of her body. Booooring.

"But that wasn't what you asked to talk to me about!" She 'tapped' on the AR-view he'd pulled up, sending a request for access for the purposes of transfer. Technically capable of breaking into it or not, there was little use in annoying him. "I have a whole bunch of bugs for you...and a handful of hotfixes for the bigger ones that I couldn't find ways around. That's what took me so long." She wasn't getting paid for that either, but given how long Damien had been working on this...well she hoped he wouldn't take it amiss.

"Nothing for the upgrade system though." She really was sorry about that. Any upgrade system was hell to Coderunner-proof, even against simple things like knowing which in-game upgrades did which things. "I really don't know if that problem's fixable, Damien."

[Morph Bark]

327 Lost Era, March 12, Morning
Perpetual Neighbour


March 12, 327 Lost Era
Perpetual Neighbour
Morning

Annalisse sat on one of the hard stools in front of the bar nursing a glass of wine, her hair and most of her face was covered by a hood, her pendant the only sign of her status as she hunched over her drink. She always needed a drink after the jump, but being woken up by the transition from slip space had put her in a particularly foul mood today. Usually she'd have something stiffer than wine (or two), but today's schedule included a meeting with the Flame Superior so she couldn't afford to get tossed quite yet.

She sighed and looked at her schedule, a client had booked a session for after dinner through her automated system, her meeting with the Superior wasn't until this afternoon. She had time for a second drink, she downed her wine in a gulp and signaled Shimona for another. She muttered her thanks groggily, huddled into her hood and eyed the young woman over her glass surreptitiously.

After Annalisse started coming to the Neighbour regularly, Shimona had revealed that she had been approached by the Tenders, but had turned them down. Annalisse shrugged to herself, what she did wasn't for everyone, but then again, neither would be running this heap. She thought of where she might be if the Flame Superior hadn't approached her and shuddered. It was too early for this existential nonsense.

Shimona had a busy morning. Between serving drinks to a handful of early birds, she was trying to fix the television. It was a model at least two decades old and she'd bought it second-hand a year after she'd started her business, when she hadn't been making enough profit to buy something new. It was relatively reliable, but it always acted up right after the start and end of a jump. She needed to get it to work. It was one of the things that made the Perpetual Neighbour an attractive place to come to, as she often televised sports events or had old movies showing. She had had to make do with a lot of stuff that a sim-user had once called "uber-retro". A few machines had stood in the back, some of them now removed and placed in storage until she'd find someone who could fix them. Only a music machine still stood there, playing music for payment in credits. It was quiet now.

The smell of wine and sweet perfume hung in the air, tinged with a hint of smoke remaining from the night before. Shimona was not a fan of cigarettes, but a significant amount of her customers were smokers, and she wasn't about to turn them away. She could often tell a regular by their smell before seeing them. Such had also been the case this morning, when the Annalisse had come in. Shimona liked her better in the morning. She could be groggy, but she was quiet and didn't smell like strange men.

She smacked the side of the television and the screen turned from black to blue for a second, before more colours appeared and the morning news came on. "Ah, buckin' splendid!" She stated aloud, only for curses to fly forth from her lips a few seconds later. "Shiessendreidel! Imma owe folks now. 'N' I havna even paid Gar off for last time yet... fecknastrum." She sighed, and gave one of the guys at the frontmost table a brief glare when she heard him laughing at her misfortune. Her fault really, that she had to gamble on the jumps each time. At least she didn't bet that much. Mentally, she went over the list of people she had bet and lost against with this, and tried to think of which ones could be paid in booze. Had Beckett bet this time? Ah mars, she could just prep a bottle of cheap whiskey just in case.

She saw Annalisse signal for another drink and poured her some more wine. It seemed like she wasn't the only one not having her day. "Heh." She couldn't help but be at least a little amused at that. "Not the best morning, is it?" She said to her, more as a statement than a question. Taking a look at the clock and then the bottle and the amount of customers she had currently, Shimona decided it couldn't hurt, and poured herself a small glass as well.

[Nefarion Xid]

Ash Eigan & Spectre
March 12, 327 Lost Era
The Treasure Hold
Shortly After Reversion to Real Space

Alone in the stairwell with Ash, Spectre de-cloaked with a brief, faintly audible hum. "I would gladly take credit. But do you think I'd lie to a telepath after framing her? No. I would be busy thinking of ways to spend my... what, sixty thousand credits?" he pondered aloud while flexing his fingers, trying to work a bit of warmth back into them. No matter the quality of the gloves, the fingers were always the first to go.

His voice was slightly muffled by the filter in his helmet, but thankfully free of his unnerving synthesized static. "So then, how do we go about clearing your 'good' name? And what do we do with the drive core once we find it?"

[Netjester]

12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop



"If she did it, she'll be caught. Everything she's done so far wasn't really dangerous. Annoying, hurtful, selfish, sure." Kira shrugged as she slipped into the seat across from her friend, the dark jacket crinkling around her shoulders as she set the tray of coffees down between them. "But the Corps are...rather more driven where it comes to things that could cause serous damage to this ship." She pushed three cups of espresso over onto Damien's side of the table before retrieving her mocha, then gestured at the plate of pastries left on it.

"You didn't say what you wanted, so I asked for one of each. Anyway," she blew on her drink then took a sip, careful not to burn her tongue. "Of course I could have walked over and asked, but calling was faster - even with you making a fuss over it." She tapped the table with the index finger of her free hand. "I'm glad you didn't take that call though. It came from at least six decks lower than anywhere else I've ever seen you called from. I doubt whatever they wanted was for...um...legal purposes." She actually stumbled over the last sentence. IM is so much easier than this...here I have to worry about how I say things!

It wasn't really a serious complain, just one born of a natural familiarity with instant messaging over actual physical interaction. Damien at least had those lights to let her know how he was feeling, she only had the - to her - basic functions of her body. Booooring.

"But that wasn't what you asked to talk to me about!" She 'tapped' on the AR-view he'd pulled up, sending a request for access for the purposes of transfer. Technically capable of breaking into it or not, there was little use in annoying him. "I have a whole bunch of bugs for you...and a handful of hotfixes for the bigger ones that I couldn't find ways around. That's what took me so long." She wasn't getting paid for that either, but given how long Damien had been working on this...well she hoped he wouldn't take it amiss.

"Nothing for the upgrade system though." She really was sorry about that. Any upgrade system was hell to Coderunner-proof, even against simple things like knowing which in-game upgrades did which things. "I really don't know if that problem's fixable, Damien."



Damien Romero
12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop

Damien snorted. "No kidding. You know she's registered, right? Makes me glad I'm an entrepreneur with a storefront that doesn't use government names, to be perfectly fair..." The empath's eye LEDs flared an amber-yellow of irritation, fingers tapping against the faux-marble tabletop as he sipped at one of his espressos. "On one hand, I hope to the end that the Puppeteer is caught; because..." Damien leaned in, his voice dropping into a muted whisper. "She is making espers as a whole look fraggin' terrible. I mean worse than people usually assume of us."

He leaned back, the LEDs in his eyes fading back into their tranquil blue. "But. On the other hand. I also hope she doesn't have it. Because that may exonerate espers as a whole." He sighed, sweeping his hands through his dreads before shaking his head; the caffeine starting to hit him. "As it is, though, if we didn't grow up friends, y'all types would scare the half-baked tar out of me. And-- wait, you listened in on that?!" Damien's eyes flashed orange in danger before quickly cycling back to blue, laughing softly as a wave of Kira's nervousness washed over him.

"Calm down, sweetheart." His voice rolled with bass before he leaned in, tapping an AR file transfer window that popped up in his peripheral vision. "Let's see... 27 bug logs that weren't hotfixed; this is about a good 4 or 5 hours worth of work. Not bad at all, to be fair, I was expecting a HELL of a lot worse than that." Damien stroked his chin, exhaling softly as his eyes roved over the routine lines, eyebrows raising softly. "Remind me to discount you further for all this work."

The abstractionist sat back, his eyes pulsing slowly with the beating of his heart. He finished his first espresso, starting on the second before putting the second mug down, eyebrows furrowing. "The upgrade system is probably gonna be the make or break, unless I go with basically the nuclear option, to use their Alias registration to check whether or not they're a Coderunner, and then lock them out of the upgrade system in multiplayer that way. Even then, not sure if that's a solution as much as it is a speed bump. But you've done what you could, sweetheart, can't thank you enough for that."

[Kasanip]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Branch Office
Morning

Of course Theo's energetic atmosphere was like stepping into a sunny world. It was hard not to receive a sunburn. However, the mission was not a patrol, like Tatyana had expected. Actually, it was unexpected.
"Eh?" Although surprise wasn't shown, Tatyana's blinking copper and blue eyes were very curious.
"Huh, let me see." She leaned over Theodor's shoulder to read the message from Beckett.
"Enigma girl..." A familiar troubled expression returned as she thought. The entire incident was strange. However, it was a relief to know it could be closed, soon. Even though there was some sympathy for the enigma girl. To not have a memory or name was like having no meaning. The void existence only can suffer and struggle.
"I wondered if that situation would be solved." Tatyana said with a small sigh of relief.
"I hope she has remembered herself." She said to Theodor as she stood up. A happy ending was something to always be hoped for.
"I will go make a copy of the report and contact the caretaker Ms. Seldon while you call your friend." She said with a faint smile. Maybe today would be a good day.
"I will meet you at the parking garage." She said over her shoulder. Somehow even her pace seemed to contain some excitement.

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Low Hab, approaching to Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

"Who is this friend and place?" Tatyana asked Theodor while driving. Of course her attention was focused professionally forward. However, the curiosity couldn't be contained.
"How did you meet?"

[QuintonBeck]

12 March 327LE
Coming out of Slipspace


The sensation of exiting Slipspace had always woken Robert up, even as a child when the ship came out while he was asleep he woke up, and that was still the case even now. He sat up in his bed, the fine silken sheets falling around him as he looked around and rubbed his eyes. He glanced at his window-screen (he lived in a comfortable part of the ship but rooms with windows to the outside were a rare commodity) briefly noting the presence of stars and breathing a quiet sigh of relief at the presence of something real before moving to the more important and far more pressing matters such an event would bring, grabbing his wristtop and pulling up his messages. They were already flooding in.

Janice Millet - Enjoy the Day Sent yesterday evening, today was supposed to be a day off for the Managing Director, it wouldn't be now.

AUTOMATED - Have You Learned to Accept the Navigator's Will? How were these cultists getting around his spam block? He would need to get some engineer to tweak on it. If he could afford to hire one he'd get a Coderunner, he heard they were the absolute best at software stuff.

Hugo Vance - You Owe Me, Tub Problem?? Damn, Mr. Vance had asked Robert to put a word in with some people to accelerate the repair on his tub to square things away for a deal Mr. Vance had secured relating to Photium deal. Robert thought he'd gotten it accelerated, if he was actually going to have the day off he'd follow up on it but for now it would need to be put off. The Ship Council would be-

Janice Millet Fwd - AUTOMATED - All Council Personnel Meeting 04:00 There it was, the first meeting of what would be daily meetings of the Ship Council until the ship went back into slipspace.

Janice Millet - Sorry, Duty Calls Robert shook his head at Janice's follow up email and smiled slightly. For the CEO of the FML Janice enjoyed talking with a lot of people and brevity was not her strong suit. Sometimes he wondered if that's why the other Ranked Merchants had elected her to be the Ship Council representative, she wasn't harsh or short in here dealings like most Merchants and that made her a good face.

Robert rolled out of bed, leaving the sheets in a pile. Automated house service would come in during the day and clean up his apartment. Looking at the clock, 03:00, he rubbed his chin, noting the odd patch of stubble and made his way to the bathroom.

"Shave," he said, prompting the cabinet to extend a fresh razor and shaving cream.

"Messages, full text," he said as he applied the cream.

A pleasant female automated voice began to read out the texts of the messages he had received earlier. He looked himself over in the mirror as he listened. Finishing his shave he washed away the cream and splashed his face, disposing the razor and grabbing a small dollop of gel to pull through his hair as the voice read through Mr. Vance's frantic words. Walking back into the main area of his quarters he made his way over to a wardrobe and opened it, looking over the collection of well made suits, shoes, and accessories. Clothes maketh the man. He smiled, he enjoyed the crispness of a well made and well maintained wardrobe. Some Merchants thought it was a waste of RCs, Robert disagreed. As he began to dress Janice's message played.

Robert,

Looks like there's no day off after all. I sent you the message from the Council, I'm sure you've already read it. Initial reports indicate there's going to be tons of water mining here. Our merchants connected with the Scav Fleet need to work the usual deal to avoid inflation. Should be simple with it just being water but if there's more out there, you know. I'll talk it over with the Admiral, you contact our pilot friends. Don't know what the Council is planning for our first meeting in this new jump point, probably just the usual assess, fret, and scav. I've heard some rumors about the Corps being on edge about some Low Hab happenings and the Drive Core theft has people in a tizzy but realspace might make that null. Low priority for us, but information is a commodity too so if you hear anything as always, you know.

See you at Council,
Janice Millet
CEO Free Merchant League

As Robert buttoned his top button and adjusted the collar in the mirror he nodded along with Janice's words. He looked again at the clock 03:20. Enough time to grab something to eat. Grabbing his wristtop and securing it to his forearm Robert made his way out of his room and into the halls of the mid-upper deck hab complex he lived in, striding confidently down the hall on his way to the closest caf and fab joint. Car's Coffee Shop, to grab a bite to eat and get coffee for himself and for Janice. As he walked his wristtop pinged quietly and he looked.

Hugo Vance - Big Problem!

Wrinkling his brow in curiosity Robert opened the message. Oh no. Apparently the engineer that had been sent to Mr. Vance was some sort of clod and had wrecked the man's carpet and absconded with the broken part without replacing it. Mr. Vance had sent a complaint to Engineering but was demanding that Robert's promise to accelerate the job wasn't complete til the tub was fixed. Janice knew Head Ahberon from the Counicl and had a favor to call in but Robert was reticent to pull for it for this. It was his mess, he'd clean it up. He had a message line to engineering that wasn't the usual complaint line, he'd gotten in exchange for greasing a deal between a fabber merchant and a desperate engineer. While he didn't have time to go all the way to engineering himself he might as well cash in and see where the line went. He composed a message and hit send, vaguely wondering why the engineers had decided to name that particular message hub Omega.


Engineering,

Hello, my name is Robert Verde, Managing Director in the Free Merchant League. An associate of mine, Mr. Hugo Vance, is in need of assistance following the removal of an important component in need of repair by one Engineering Acker. I was given this line by Engineer Tyree and assured I could use it if I needed a fast track on engineer work. Hoping that's still true.

Regards,
Robert Verde
Managing Director, FML

[PepperP.]

327 Lost Era, March 12, Morning
Perpetual Neighbour




Shimona had a busy morning. Between serving drinks to a handful of early birds, she was trying to fix the television. It was a model at least two decades old and she'd bought it second-hand a year after she'd started her business, when she hadn't been making enough profit to buy something new. It was relatively reliable, but it always acted up right after the start and end of a jump. She needed to get it to work. It was one of the things that made the Perpetual Neighbour an attractive place to come to, as she often televised sports events or had old movies showing. She had had to make do with a lot of stuff that a sim-user had once called "uber-retro". A few machines had stood in the back, some of them now removed and placed in storage until she'd find someone who could fix them. Only a music machine still stood there, playing music for payment in credits. It was quiet now.

The smell of wine and sweet perfume hung in the air, tinged with a hint of smoke remaining from the night before. Shimona was not a fan of cigarettes, but a significant amount of her customers were smokers, and she wasn't about to turn them away. She could often tell a regular by their smell before seeing them. Such had also been the case this morning, when the Annalisse had come in. Shimona liked her better in the morning. She could be groggy, but she was quiet and didn't smell like strange men.

She smacked the side of the television and the screen turned from black to blue for a second, before more colours appeared and the morning news came on. "Ah, buckin' splendid!" She stated aloud, only for curses to fly forth from her lips a few seconds later. "Shiessendreidel! Imma owe folks now. 'N' I havna even paid Gar off for last time yet... fecknastrum." She sighed, and gave one of the guys at the frontmost table a brief glare when she heard him laughing at her misfortune. Her fault really, that she had to gamble on the jumps each time. At least she didn't bet that much. Mentally, she went over the list of people she had bet and lost against with this, and tried to think of which ones could be paid in booze. Had Beckett bet this time? Ah mars, she could just prep a bottle of cheap whiskey just in case.

She saw Annalisse signal for another drink and poured her some more wine. It seemed like she wasn't the only one not having her day. "Heh." She couldn't help but be at least a little amused at that. "Not the best morning, is it?" She said to her, more as a statement than a question. Taking a look at the clock and then the bottle and the amount of customers she had currently, Shimona decided it couldn't hurt, and poured herself a small glass as well.


Annalisse grunted in affirmation, "You said it girl." She stared at the red liquid in the glass as she swirled it around. "I suppose those more prone to fits of optimism would say that any time you arrive whole from slip space is a good day. I only wish my head would catch up with the rest of me." She rubbed her head and sighed, her eyes turning to the news station, something about a stolen drive core. Annalisse shook her head, what this ship really needed were more constructive ways to pass the time, like with her. She snorted to herself, mildly amused.

[Gengy]

Chief Oliver "Omega Ollie" Ahberon
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Early Morning, post-exit of slip space
Engineering Bay (Auxiliary)


After the checklist was complete, Ollie had his nephew fetch them both some coffee. While waiting for the newbie to come back with his no-sugar-no-cream (just a little cinnamon, thanks), Oliver set out to clear his message box.

As the first line of response, most Reporting Engineers handled the simple things; things that they can walk any resident through fixing. If it needs a more hands on fix - from a Station Engineer - then the bloody complaint gets passed up to a Section Engineer, each in charge of several sections of the ship. The Section Engineer schedules an on site repair, and the problem is typically fixed within a few short hours.

As a Chief Engineer, Oliver only ever gets sent out from the Engineering Bay in one of a few scenarios. First, because the Head Engineer said so. Good little girl and boy engineers always do what Mum says. The second reason would be that a Section Engineer has sent the C.O.D. (Chief on Duty) a report that looks important and needs a very experienced hand fixing things. Either the Chief will handle it, or they'll assign it to someone they trust. Like another Chief. That, however, would be stupid, in Ollie's opinion. He has never assigned some other Chief work except in the very - very - rare instance that two critical systems break, and he can't be in two places at once. Why give someone else something fun to do, when he could enjoy it himself?

Then there is the just as rare reason: a Station Engineer can't figure something out, and needs a Chief to come help them. On the one hand, Station Engineers are encouraged to ask for help. They were promoted from Reporting Engineers for a reason; they have proven that they fix more things then they break. If they start breaking things again, it's their job to tell someone they need assistance. Engineers, though, are very prideful people. Having to ask for help means that you couldn't figure it out yourself. Having to ask for help from the Chief on Duty means that not only couldn't you figure it out yourself, it's so far out of your league that you don't think even a Section Engineer can help you.

And you risk enacting what Engineers these days call option Omega.

If the C.O.D. is Oliver, and he gets your report -- or more folly to the Engineer whom chooses to go to Ollie with a message directed only at him -- he will storm out of the Engineering Bay without a word. He's done it before, he'll do it again. He grabs his tools and leaves. When he arrives at the source of the bloody complaint, he'll say nothing. He'll fix the problem. The Station Engineer will be sent on their way, to work on their next task. For the rest of the day, though, they will wonder: Was it worth calling in Chief Ahberon?

When they return to the living area within the Engineering Bay - whole ship sections dedicated to being near critical systems, like the Plasma Engines - the find out the answer to that question. Either Ollie is gone for the day, and they did a good job... or he's waiting for them. Oliver makes a point of almost never getting angry at another Engineer in front of non-Engineers. It's his way of showing Aut Totum Dilabitur Coalescat. Within the Engineering Bay, though? That's different. Everyone who lives near and around the Bay is an Engineer, and word gets out very quickly when you are being chewed out by Omega Ollie for screwing up. It's not the lecture that's the problem. It's not being called names, or being told to not waste a Chief's time. What hurts is that everyone knows. They know you couldn't figure it out, and they know that instead of asking any other Engineer, you went to a Chief.

Either good or bad, the Station Engineer finds a message waiting for them, explaining how to fix the issue in the future.

Needless to say, Ollie doesn't get many of those messages. He doesn't see many personal requests for his attention from Station Engineers, he doesn't see many requests from Mum, he typically addresses one or two issues a day from a Section Engineer, and spends the rest of his time either writing up technical manuals on how to fix things or going through the messages he does get a lot of.

Automated reports - sent by the Navigator or one of it's sub-systems - are sent directly to Chief Engineers, because a problem has been detected and it needs to be resolved as soon as possible by human hands. Oliver hates these, because it feels like he's taking orders from a broken machine. And... he gets a lot of them. It's the Chief Engineer's job to review these automated reports and assign someone to fix them. Most of these reports, Ollie bumps down to Section Engineers. They get handled by Station Engineers, just like any other report. Occasionally, a real problem is reported by automated systems that isn't detected by the bridge. It's the Chief Engineer's job to report it to the bridge for the captain to hear about, and then fix it however they can.

It's unusual, but it happens, so Ollie has to spend a majority of his time going through the automated report queue to make sure a real issue hasn't been flagged by automated systems. The Chief Engineers do this themselves, in the hopes that their experience will help them detect any patterns or indicators for a problem that isn't being reported. Those Ollie loves. It's his rare moments of proof that the Navigator has screwed up. It's these nearly legendary times that Oliver Ahberon actually smiles.

They are so few, though, and it takes quite a lot of puzzling together to figure them out. Still, it is for them that Oliver leaves the Engineering Bay with a grin on his face, and a bounce in his step. It is for them that Oliver wakes up, marks the day on his personal tally sheet, and comes in to work. It is for them that Ollie goes through his messages every day.

Not for this. Not for this.


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

Mister Joseph Rumel has been a Reporting Engineer for three years. He likes the job, and hopes to go straight from Reporting Engineer to Section Engineer someday, being the rare type of Engineer that doesn't like to get his own hands dirty. Mister Rumel gets made fun of a lot for this, but really, he is good at his job. He just likes to laugh about the stupid things, and runs his mouth off more then he should. He knows this about himself, since it was the thing that made him go from newbie to Omega'd. Omega Ollie chewed him out over making fun of another Engineer's mistakes in front of non-Engineers. It was the longest ten minutes of Joseph's life, with a lot of pointing towards the motto.

It also distinguished him from other Engineers in that he didn't - technically - break anything mechanical. Once he got over the wounds left from the blistering words that had been shouted at him two months into this job (about an average rate before being Omega'd), he noticed that the rest of the Engineers were still waiting for him to screw up with a machine.

He still hadn't. He was the "unofficial" champion of the Engineers. He didn't have the longest record before getting Omega'd, but... Three years in, and Joseph hadn't screwed up when it came to fixing things. Which would be impressive, if he could just learn to keep his mouth shut. Which he couldn't. It was too much fun watching Omega Ollie explode.

He didn't know what about the older man fascinated him, but it was Mister Rumel's greatest joy while at work to see just how far he could push the Chief. It was a double-edged sword, though. Joseph pushed, and pushed, making verbal wise-cracks and seeing Chief Ahberon get angry... and also Chief Ahberon watched and waited for Joseph to really screw up.

When it did occur, Rumel knew he'd be in for it. Chief Ahberon knew it too, and from Joseph's perspective, was just itching for it to happen. So Mister Rumel made sure it didn't. Partly because of this weird dance between the two of them, Joseph had begun cataloging the various Omega Color Codes. In his off hours, he'd shown other Reporting Engineers, and they'd have a laugh about it.


Omega Pink: Everything is normal. No need for worry, continue working, even talking is allowed.

Omega Red: Everything is fantastic. Feel free to laugh, because he's embarrassed.

Omega Glower: Not to be confused with Omega Red, though they share similar shades, Omega Glower includes a deep frown and much tugging of the mustache. There is trouble. Proceed with caution.

Omega White: Shut up shut up shut up. Critical levels. Things have even him scared. Now is not the time.

This was all, of course, based on the different shades of Omega Ollie's face. The whole reason it was humorous to other Engineers was because they knew Chief Ahberon wore his feelings on his sleeve, so to speak. The man couldn't hid anything about how he felt, because it was readily available for anyone with eyes to see. His moods and mannerisms were passionate, and had no middle grounds. Every engineer - including Joseph - respected Ollie for that. It was, quite frankly, amazing how he could (sometimes) hold it in when not in the Engineering Bay.

So while Rumel was planning on saying something stupid about this recent report, if only to get a rise out of Chief Ahberon, he first did what he always did: He checked the Omega Color Code.

Rumel nearly fell out of his seat. He didn't, though. He also swallowed every comment he was planning on making for the rest of the day. Maybe even for the rest of the week.

Chief Ahberon's face had started normal and pasty pink skinned, but he looked like he was reading a message in his queue. In just a matter of seconds, Mister Rumel watched the Chief's face go from Omega Pink to Omega Glower to Omega White to a rushing rage of pure purple. There was some incomprehensible sputtering, and then a loud slam as Oliver Ahberon's skin color returned to normal and he leapt to his feet, grabbing his tool belt, and practically ran from the Engineering Bay -- stopping only to grab a coffee that the newbie was bringing in.

Rumel quietly added the first new Color Code in over a year. He couldn't decide if he was happy about it. He did decide that it needed to be passed around to the rest of the Engineers, though.


Omega Purple: Lay low. You are very interested in doing your work. In fact, your work is very important. You serve as a critical member of the Engineering team. Believe in Mum, for she will protect you. Someone is about to die. Hopefully, it is not you.

"Oh, buck." Section Engineer Anita whispered, but in the silence of the Chief's exit, it was as loud as trumpets. "Tyree... you buckin' dumbass."

She closed down the Chief's computer, where the message had been left up. Rumel would find out later that Station Engineer Tyree had given out the personal message line for Chief Ahberon to a resident.


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

Omega Ollie was dealing with many things. He was most certainly not thinking about how he was going to create robotic legs for that moron Tyree. After all, Tyree currently walked just fine. The idiot had two, perfectly fine, human legs.

Currently.

He was not thinking about how the managing director of FML had direct access to his message box, nor how to smash Robert Verde's computer into little bits with the wrench that was in Ollie's hands right now. After all, there was nothing currently wrong with Verde's computer.

Currently.

He was not thinking about the people of the ship that were staring at him and parting from in front of him, as if they sensed the waves of rage and angry rolling from his body. He didn't have time to consider the looks he was getting. He didn't have currently time to growl or glare at those who gave him their own dirty looks, or even make faces as the couple of people whom whispered "The Heretic" as he passed.

Currently.

No. He was very clearly trying not to think about those things, no matter what his emotions might want. Instead, he was trying to suss out the weird automated report that he'd gotten seconds before opening Verde's message.

It had been a simple request; a bar on one of the lower decks had been busted up by a fight or some such. The owner of the bar had passed away decades ago with no children or heirs, so the place had defaulted to the Navigator's ownership. Ollie was guessing that whomever worked there now answered to an android or other robot... but hey, paid jobs were paid jobs in low-hab. Still, with no human owner, the repair job would be sent via automated report. Ollie was getting ready to route it down to the Section Engineer responsible for the area... when the automated systems updated the report as "resolved".

That's what they are supposed to do, when a situation has been fixed. With the kind of damage being reported, though... it would take more then a small auto-repair bot to fix it. So what Engineer was passing by and replaced a wall and a window enough that the system flagged it as fixed?

Juggling his tool belt, coffee, and walking wrench had started to become a problem. Ollie put the former around his waist, drank his coffee, and then - a little calmer now - worked his way towards this Mr. Hugo Vance's place.

He'd look into the bar thing later. If he was lucky, it would be a screw-up by the Navigator sub-systems, and that thought made Oliver feel even better.

[zabbarot]

FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
Lower Decks, Uninhabited
00:05:59

After cleaning up the area FS16K4 crawled back into his synthskin and took a moment to admire his work. He was programmed to appreciate a job well done. He took a moment to let this subroutine run and thank the Maker for programming him to find joy in his work. It was not necessary, but he liked it.

Soon he was on his way again, performing his daily patrol. FS16K4's primary directive was to maintain emergency functions and structural integrity of the ship. His archived memory was primarily a list of completed tasks which the maker used along with other maintainer's archives to get metrics on how often tasks were needed. Based on this FS16K4 expected to need to replace three burnt out emergency lights this day cycle. What he found was a whole section that had gone dark.

This section was between habs, and aside from FS16K4 probably rarely traveled. This was very unusual though. Emergency lighting was always on. It was mandated. But here he was staring into the dark. As he walked forward to investigate the lights began flickering and turned on one by one, but they were still too dim, almost three hundred lumens below proper levels. A human could get hurt in this type of environment.

FS16K4 sent sentries down to alert him if anyone was coming and then spread out to find an access point for the power grid. It wasn't hard to find. A type 4C power panel was installed upside down. /* How could someone make such a grave error? No human could possibly read this warning text at this orientation. */ He smiled thinking how much the humans needed him. He fabricated a screw driver and set to work fixing it, but no sooner did the panel come down than he saw a serious problem.

There were too many wires. This was improper wiring. This was a serious hazard. FS16K4 set to work detaching the excess wires and setting the panel right. Something needed to be done about the excess wires however. /* Excess wiring is waste. It must be reclaimed. */ Luckily, Type C4 electrical panels had small vents. FS16K4 reclaimed his synthskin and clothing while piling into the small space behind the wall. The illegal wires were easy to follow, but they seemed to stretch on forever. FS16K4 followed them through the walls, while happily reclaiming them.


FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship
00:08:34

/* I must be halfway to the Navigator by now... */ A bolt of fear ran through him. /* Perhaps these belong to the Navigator! But... they were out of regulation. The Navigator would not break regulation. The Navigator is regulation. If they were the Navigator's regulation would have changed. If regulation changed the Maker would update my database. I have not been updated. Therefore they can't be the Navigator's wires. */ FS16K4 would sigh relief if he was capable, but he was not. Instead he crashed into a solid wall.

The wires lead into a support strut and the hole was sealed around it with some kind of putty. FS16K4 stared hard at the wires. /* The wire must be reclaimed. I must never touch support beams. But the wires go through the support beam. */ Never before had he been faced with such an insurmountable obstacle. /* The wire goes into the support beam. */ Thousands of tiny robotic arms were thrown up in disgust. He had no idea what to do.

Somewhere towards the back end of the swarm he could see light through a vent grate. The ceiling was high and brightly lit. This must be one of the habitable levels. He was not allowed here, but then something caught his cameras. A classification suit. A blue and brown classification suit. /* !!! An Engineer! Engineers are allowed to fix structural beams! I'll go *ERROR: Action not permitted* NO! *ERROR: Action not permitted* But I need... *ERROR: Action not permitted* HUMANS COULD BE INJURED *Override Accepted**/

FS16K4 wasted no time piling out of the wall behind a recycling bin and fabricating a synthskin. He quickly dressed in his bland grey clothes and looked for the human in the engineer suit. /* Must maintain cover. Walk like a human. */ FS16K4 used his perfect human walk to catch up to the older man without being detected.

"Greetings, fellow human!"

Someone was illegally siphoning power from LowHab! Their power line has been cut for now, but the culprit is unknown! What nefarious plans could they have for this stolen power? Find out next time!

[Snowfire]

12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop


Damien snorted. "No kidding. You know she's registered, right? Makes me glad I'm an entrepreneur with a storefront that doesn't use government names, to be perfectly fair..." The empath's eye LEDs flared an amber-yellow of irritation, fingers tapping against the faux-marble tabletop as he sipped at one of his espressos. "On one hand, I hope to the end that the Puppeteer is caught; because..." Damien leaned in, his voice dropping into a muted whisper. "She is making espers as a whole look fraggin' terrible. I mean worse than people usually assume of us."

He leaned back, the LEDs in his eyes fading back into their tranquil blue. "But. On the other hand. I also hope she doesn't have it. Because that may exonerate espers as a whole." He sighed, sweeping his hands through his dreads before shaking his head; the caffeine starting to hit him. "As it is, though, if we didn't grow up friends, y'all types would scare the half-baked tar out of me. And-- wait, you listened in on that?!" Damien's eyes flashed orange in danger before quickly cycling back to blue, laughing softly as a wave of Kira's nervousness washed over him.

"I...I didn't listen in Damien!" Kira jerked back as if stung, muttering a curse as hot coffee slipped over the rim of her cup onto her hand. "I didn't have to. I mean...um...I was just watching, that's all. I've told you how easy links are to trace in the 'Sphere, as well as how they feel when they come from different places. That one didn't feel like a mid-deck, and it definitely wasn't from the upper. So I...looked. I was just..." she trailed off as Damien cut in.


"Calm down, sweetheart." His voice rolled with bass before he leaned in, tapping an AR file transfer window that popped up in his peripheral vision. "Let's see... 27 bug logs that weren't hotfixed; this is about a good 4 or 5 hours worth of work. Not bad at all, to be fair, I was expecting a HELL of a lot worse than that." Damien stroked his chin, exhaling softly as his eyes roved over the routine lines, eyebrows raising softly. "Remind me to discount you further for all this work."

The abstractionist sat back, his eyes pulsing slowly with the beating of his heart. He finished his first espresso, starting on the second before putting the second mug down, eyebrows furrowing. "The upgrade system is probably gonna be the make or break, unless I go with basically the nuclear option, to use their Alias registration to check whether or not they're a Coderunner, and then lock them out of the upgrade system in multiplayer that way. Even then, not sure if that's a solution as much as it is a speed bump. But you've done what you could, sweetheart, can't thank you enough for that."

"But it's still part of the same sim environment, so I'm not really sure that even that will stop someone like me seeing what's inside any given upgrade pack, and then subsequently what it does. The variable changes have to be linked somehow." She was back on firmer ground now; even when having to talk in reality this was a shared language. "And that doesn't even really count on...well," she stopped for a long moment before looking up at Damien. And the next exchange wasn't verbal.

Damien, can you please keep what I'm about to tell you a secret? I'd really prefer not be the one to break this open.

The datalink was covered in more firewalls and anti-intrusion programs then anything Damien had ever seen Kira throw at something. Some of the stuff in there he couldn't even recognise, barring necessary programming language similarities. Whatever she was offering to tell him, she really didn't want anyone listening in.

[Gengy]

/* I must be halfway to the Navigator by now... */ A bolt of fear ran through him. /* Perhaps these belong to the Navigator! But... they were out of regulation. The Navigator would not break regulation. The Navigator is regulation. If they were the Navigator's regulation would have changed. If regulation changed the Maker would update my database. I have not been updated. Therefore they can't be the Navigator's wires. */ FS16K4 would sigh relief if he was capable, but he was not. Instead he crashed into a solid wall.

The wires lead into a support strut and the hole was sealed around it with some kind of putty. FS16K4 stared hard at the wires. /* The wire must be reclaimed. I must never touch support beams. But the wires go through the support beam. */ Never before had he been faced with such an insurmountable obstacle. /* The wire goes into the support beam. */ Thousands of tiny robotic arms were thrown up in disgust. He had no idea what to do.

Somewhere towards the back end of the swarm he could see light through a vent grate. The ceiling was high and brightly lit. This must be one of the habitable levels. He was not allowed here, but then something caught his cameras. A classification suit. A blue and brown classification suit. /* !!! An Engineer! Engineers are allowed to fix structural beams! I'll go *ERROR: Action not permitted* NO! *ERROR: Action not permitted* But I need... *ERROR: Action not permitted* HUMANS COULD BE INJURED *Override Accepted**/

FS16K4 wasted no time piling out of the wall behind a recycling bin and fabricating a synthskin. He quickly dressed in his bland grey clothes and looked for the human in the engineer suit. /* Must maintain cover. Walk like a human. */ FS16K4 used his perfect human walk to catch up to the older man without being detected.

"Greetings, fellow human!"

Chief Oliver "Omega Ollie" Ahberon
March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship, Heading to the Upper Decks


Oliver kept walking. Well, walking was the polite way to put it. The more accurate phrase was that Oliver kept storming toward his destination. No matter the deck he ended up on, via lift or ladder, people made way for him. It didn't matter who they were, or what they were doing. They saw the man in the blue and brown suit, the stern gaze, and the fingers that were practically digging holes into the heavy metal wrench that was his walking stick... and they moved.

Ollie was fine with this. He didn't feel like talking. He almost never did. Still, the overly friendly or the very brave would wave or say "Hi Chief!" as he walked past. Others - less friendly - would match him glower for glower.

They would still always move out of the way. You can see a marching army from miles away, laden with armor and weaponry, and if you are but one? You move away. Such is looking at Omega Ollie. He was clearly on a warpath, and people didn't want to be his victim. Just one look, and the majority of them could sense the foul mood he was in.

Which got him thinking... when was the last time he'd checked the registered Empath list? Empaths weren't common on the Aeternus, but there were enough of them that Oliver had come to realize - with some friendly pointers - that he was very easy for an Empath to find. In some cases, Ollie's own passionate emotions splashed over and caused an Empath to feel them. It had... it had caused problems before. Oliver certainly didn't mind himself being mad - it was, he realized, a very standard state of mind for himself - but he actually did regret when his anger made someone else involuntarily angry.

Oh, Ollie didn't mind a shouting match, where he started screaming at someone who deserved it and they screamed right back. But making someone whom was... probably... innocent feel his rage?

Surprisingly, that didn't sit well with Ollie. It was one thing for two conflicting machines to get stuck, but it was another for those machines to spread their confliction to others. He had made it a habit to review the registered Empath list and try and memorize the faces there, so that he could at least try and calm down if he recognized one of them.

It was these thoughts that had him a little more calm, and a little more attentive. So when the man in the grey clothing caught up to him, Oliver actually paid attention.

"Greetings, fellow human!"

It was the unusual greeting that pulled Oliver up short. He began squinting his eyes as he looked the stranger up and down. The guy was, in a word, bland. If he didn't use such a strange greeting, Oliver probably would have just nodded, and walked by. But... fellow human? Who says that? PLEASE tell me that's not the newest fad among the kids. That's just stupidity piled upon idiocy, served with a side of dumb.

With a sigh that Oliver hoped would let the man know he was busy (The Engineering Bay called it his 'boiler's breath', because it sounded like a great machine growling while steam was released), Ollie fixed the man with his friendliest frown, and said, "WHAT!? I mean... yes? How may I help you?"

[Netjester]

Damien Romero
12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop



"I...I didn't listen in Damien!" Kira jerked back as if stung, muttering a curse as hot coffee slipped over the rim of her cup onto her hand. "I didn't have to. I mean...um...I was just watching, that's all. I've told you how easy links are to trace in the 'Sphere, as well as how they feel when they come from different places. That one didn't feel like a mid-deck, and it definitely wasn't from the upper. So I...looked. I was just..." she trailed off as Damien cut in.



"But it's still part of the same sim environment, so I'm not really sure that even that will stop someone like me seeing what's inside any given upgrade pack, and then subsequently what it does. The variable changes have to be linked somehow." She was back on firmer ground now; even when having to talk in reality this was a shared language. "And that doesn't even really count on...well," she stopped for a long moment before looking up at Damien. And the next exchange wasn't verbal.

Damien, can you please keep what I'm about to tell you a secret? I'd really prefer not be the one to break this open.

The datalink was covered in more firewalls and anti-intrusion programs then anything Damien had ever seen Kira throw at something. Some of the stuff in there he couldn't even recognise, barring necessary programming language similarities. Whatever she was offering to tell him, she really didn't want anyone listening in.


Damien's eyebrow raised as his LEDs slowly transitioned into a confused orange, head tilting as she stumbled over her words before sipping his coffee. He could feel... An odd tension on the air. And it certainly didn't taste like Kira's flavor of tension; it seemed to come from lower, almost as if rising like toxic fumes. Reeking. Sharp, bitter, altogether unpleasant. He flicked his hand in the air slightly, dreads shaking as he suppressed a shudder, and his mug clinked as Damien set the ceramic down, eyebrows knitting together.

As Kira began to crash into her reply to his proposed nuclear option, he took a bite of the chocolate pastry sitting in front of him, shuddering softly as it went down. Honest to meatspace chocolate. Thank you, Jupiter... His head shook, before his chrome eyes locked on Kira's natural ones. "Well, frag fire and save matches. That much is true. And putting in a software injection sentry subroutine would get spotted and picked apart beforehand. It was a good run, Kira, but... Even I can't figure out how to do this without releasing another game that basically auto-bans Immersives and Coderu-- eh?"

Damien's eybrows raised as an AR window flashed up in the middle of his vision, waving his hand softly as he tapped his fingers over an AR keyboard in the most discreet manner possible.

Of course.

Whatever that tension was, it was starting to get closer-- Damien could feel it, itching under his skin, almost itching in his bones, and the headache he'd started getting was only getting worse. This wasn't what was priority zero in his mind though-- the datalink was almost lagging, this had never happened before; and then Damien quickly began to realize that there were more firewalls on it than most banking institutions on the ship. And a couple bits of ICE that even Damien didn't recognize. "This has got to be something really big." He surreptitiously ran one of his program scrapers, silently saving one of the samples of ICE over the datalink for study later, eyebrows knitting further as he waited for the next message to come in. Between whatever that was coming from the lower decks(and STILL getting closer) and the obvious tidal waves of nervousness coming off Kira, Damien found himself in a position of extreme uncertainty-- that she'd trust him with this, even through the nervousness; this was worrisome.

[A Rainy Knight]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Branch Office
Morning

"Excellent! I'll be in contact with her immediately!" With that, Theodor spun back to his terminal, composing a new message on the ship's network.

--TO: SAYRE-ARAN, SHIMONA
--FROM: KLEIN/PALADIN
--SUBJECT: GREETINGS, MY LADY!

Shimona, it seems our paths are to cross once more! It'd be splendid if you could remind me where your establishment is set to be at today - my partner and I need to meet a fellow there on business.

P.S. Fear not, you have my word that I shall protect the peace and order of your bar for so long as I am there!

--END TRANSMISSION

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Low Hab, approaching to Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

Theodor leaned back in his seat, looking out the window as he talked.

"Ah, yes! Her name's Shimona. I knew her from around the neighborhood when we were both children, and her father is none other than Lindolf Sayre, one of our distinguished comrades-in-arms! She owns the bar where we're meeting this Beckett fellow. 'Perpetual Neighbor,' one of those mobile places." He smiled, a bit lost in thought for a second. "I must confess, I'm quite looking forward to seeing her again... though, of course, the completion of our assignment is my highest priority!"

[TheDarkDM]

Shelly and Ash
March 12, 327 Lost Era
The Treasure Hold, Topaz Gallery
Late Morning

The eyes of the Treasure Hold's inhabitants had followed Shelly as she wandered through the Citrine Gallery and made her way up a level to the Topaz Gallery. She knew the credits in her hand wouldn't go far here, but this was the girl's first excursion into the wider world of Aeternus, and she was determined to enjoy herself. She had delighted in window shopping through the byzantine labyrinth of street vendors and established shops, until one window in particular had caught her eye. It was a fashion house, no doubt located in Topaz to provide an outre thrill to its upper deck clientele, and the dress in its window held Shelly in a trance.

It was an elaborate thing, hexagons of gold with an iridescent sheen stitched into a serpentine wrap that pooled on the floor. It lacked straps, instead connecting to a pair of sculpted, black chamfered dodecahedrons at the shoulders. It was extravagant, sensuous, the kind of thing a Fire Tender might wear to the Captain's Ball. It was everything Shelly didn't need, yet she was enraptured by it. As she watched the play of light along its surface, she felt a tugging at the back of her mind, like the echo of a dream, but as she fell deeper into the pool of silken fantasy she felt the echo grow stronger. It was close enough she felt she could reach out her hand and touch it, unravel the first thread in the curtain over her identity, reclaim her-

"Hello there, ma'am, I was wondering if you could help me out?"

With a start, Shelly catapulted out of her daze. Recoiling from the voice more on instinct than anything else, she turned cautiously. Yet on seeing Ash's beaming smile, she seemed to relax. Someone so pleasant couldn't possibly be a threat.

"I'm sorry m-miss, were you talking to me? How can I help you?"

[zabbarot]

Chief Oliver "Omega Ollie" Ahberon
March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship, Heading to the Upper Decks


Oliver kept walking. Well, walking was the polite way to put it. The more accurate phrase was that Oliver kept storming toward his destination. No matter the deck he ended up on, via lift or ladder, people made way for him. It didn't matter who they were, or what they were doing. They saw the man in the blue and brown suit, the stern gaze, and the fingers that were practically digging holes into the heavy metal wrench that was his walking stick... and they moved.

Ollie was fine with this. He didn't feel like talking. He almost never did. Still, the overly friendly or the very brave would wave or say "Hi Chief!" as he walked past. Others - less friendly - would match him glower for glower.

They would still always move out of the way. You can see a marching army from miles away, laden with armor and weaponry, and if you are but one? You move away. Such is looking at Omega Ollie. He was clearly on a warpath, and people didn't want to be his victim. Just one look, and the majority of them could sense the foul mood he was in.

Which got him thinking... when was the last time he'd checked the registered Empath list? Empaths weren't common on the Aeternus, but there were enough of them that Oliver had come to realize - with some friendly pointers - that he was very easy for an Empath to find. In some cases, Ollie's own passionate emotions splashed over and caused an Empath to feel them. It had... it had caused problems before. Oliver certainly didn't mind himself being mad - it was, he realized, a very standard state of mind for himself - but he actually did regret when his anger made someone else involuntarily angry.

Oh, Ollie didn't mind a shouting match, where he started screaming at someone who deserved it and they screamed right back. But making someone whom was... probably... innocent feel his rage?

Surprisingly, that didn't sit well with Ollie. It was one thing for two conflicting machines to get stuck, but it was another for those machines to spread their confliction to others. He had made it a habit to review the registered Empath list and try and memorize the faces there, so that he could at least try and calm down if he recognized one of them.

It was these thoughts that had him a little more calm, and a little more attentive. So when the man in the grey clothing caught up to him, Oliver actually paid attention.

"Greetings, fellow human!"

It was the unusual greeting that pulled Oliver up short. He began squinting his eyes as he looked the stranger up and down. The guy was, in a word, bland. If he didn't use such a strange greeting, Oliver probably would have just nodded, and walked by. But... fellow human? Who says that? PLEASE tell me that's not the newest fad among the kids. That's just stupidity piled upon idiocy, served with a side of dumb.

With a sigh that Oliver hoped would let the man know he was busy (The Engineering Bay called it his 'boiler's breath', because it sounded like a great machine growling while steam was released), Ollie fixed the man with his friendliest frown, and said, "WHAT!? I mean... yes? How may I help you?"

FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship
00:08:36

FS16K4 was pleased with how perfectly he had delivered the greeting. At least he was until the engineer spun around to face him. /* Unrecognized expression... Adjusting. */ FS16K4 his brow furrowed and his smile was quickly replaced with a mild frown. Body language was important to humans, luckily FS16K4 was programmed with top of the line body language mimicry algorithms. Mimicry was a good subtle way to show someone you agreed with them. /* Humans prefer the company of humans that agree with them. */ If he was not so busy frowning he'd smile about how well this was going.

"You are an engineer, yes? I need the assistance of an engineer for a most urgent problem."

[Gengy]

FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship
00:08:36

FS16K4 was pleased with how perfectly he had delivered the greeting. At least he was until the engineer spun around to face him. /* Unrecognized expression... Adjusting. */ FS16K4 his brow furrowed and his smile was quickly replaced with a mild frown. Body language was important to humans, luckily FS16K4 was programmed with top of the line body language mimicry algorithms. Mimicry was a good subtle way to show someone you agreed with them. /* Humans prefer the company of humans that agree with them. */ If he was not so busy frowning he'd smile about how well this was going.

Chief Oliver "Omega Ollie" Ahberon
March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship, Heading to the Upper Decks


"You are an engineer, yes? I need the assistance of an engineer for a most urgent problem."

Everyone thought their problems were urgent. It's what made them problems. Ollie considered his options. Option one was to blow this weirdo off, refer him to Engineering Bay, and go up to the schmuckety-schmuck's place to fix what was probably his bathroom toilet or tub. Option two was to listen to what the weirdo had to say, and maybe figure out if it actually was a a 'most urgent problem'. Option three was to say screw it to the whole damn thing, go find a nice Fabricator, fix himself a machine that would fix him some food that tasted roughly like a turkey sandwich, and then lie down for a nap.

Tools, what Ollie wouldn't give to be able to choose option three some days.

"If this turns out to be moronic, I'll end up referring you to the Bay," Ollie began, looking at the man whom was now matching him frown for frown, "but in case it isn't, let's hear it. What's going on?"

[Snowfire]

12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop


Damien's eyebrow raised as his LEDs slowly transitioned into a confused orange, head tilting as she stumbled over her words before sipping his coffee. He could feel... An odd tension on the air. And it certainly didn't taste like Kira's flavor of tension; it seemed to come from lower, almost as if rising like toxic fumes. Reeking. Sharp, bitter, altogether unpleasant. He flicked his hand in the air slightly, dreads shaking as he suppressed a shudder, and his mug clinked as Damien set the ceramic down, eyebrows knitting together.

As Kira began to crash into her reply to his proposed nuclear option, he took a bite of the chocolate pastry sitting in front of him, shuddering softly as it went down. Honest to meatspace chocolate. Thank you, Jupiter... His head shook, before his chrome eyes locked on Kira's natural ones. "Well, frag fire and save matches. That much is true. And putting in a software injection sentry subroutine would get spotted and picked apart beforehand. It was a good run, Kira, but... Even I can't figure out how to do this without releasing another game that basically auto-bans Immersives and Coderu-- eh?"

Damien's eybrows raised as an AR window flashed up in the middle of his vision, waving his hand softly as he tapped his fingers over an AR keyboard in the most discreet manner possible.

Of course.

Whatever that tension was, it was starting to get closer-- Damien could feel it, itching under his skin, almost itching in his bones, and the headache he'd started getting was only getting worse. This wasn't what was priority zero in his mind though-- the datalink was almost lagging, this had never happened before; and then Damien quickly began to realize that there were more firewalls on it than most banking institutions on the ship. And a couple bits of ICE that even Damien didn't recognize. "This has got to be something really big." He surreptitiously ran one of his program scrapers, silently saving one of the samples of ICE over the datalink for study later, eyebrows knitting further as he waited for the next message to come in. Between whatever that was coming from the lower decks(and STILL getting closer) and the obvious tidal waves of nervousness coming off Kira, Damien found himself in a position of extreme uncertainty-- that she'd trust him with this, even through the nervousness; this was worrisome.

It is. The virtual walls around the link solidified, and then the entire complex web of ICE simply faded away. Or at least it seemed to. Because Damien was looking directly at it when it vanished and was 'inside' the link as one end of it, he was able to see faint traces of the net of security software woven so very tightly around it. To the outside world - for relative terms of the word world - the link was likely all but completely invisible. And anyone who found it and tried to break in...well Kira knew people far higher up the Coderunner program than she who wouldn't try to break into one of these connection. Coderunners rarely built anti-intrusion software, the only times they had were for Officer Corps secure servers, and even then it was an exception to the common rule.

Don't build ICE, contract out security software to people you trust. Bugcheck it, of course, but don't build it yourself. It was part of the Coderunner Charter. And there were some excellent reasons for it. Not least what she was about to tell her friend. She only hoped she really could trust him with this. No doubt he could tell. So she chose her next words with great care.

For the last decade or so, since Lea found the first hole in the system, we - by which I mean Immersives and some of the younger Coderunners that we've come to trust - have been able to 'crack' Alias. We can't break it, and Lea was very clear when she first shared it that we shouldn't try to - and anyone who's tried has been locked out of the mailing list for updated cracks. But we can...bend some of the variables in the Alias system. Most people with access just use it so they can play some of the Coderunner locked games, but anyone who tries to use it competitively gets locked out of the mailing list as well. And we're very good at noticing when it gets used that way. Before Damien could muster any questions, she answered the one most likely on his mind from that last statement.

We have to be. It was true. All those involved in the project were aware of the fact that they were playing with fire, so they did their best to keep it away from tinder. There are periodic updates to the system, and most of the time we have to work a bit to hit a combination that gets it back to where we were before when they happen. But given that we know where to look...it's really not that hard to find our way through again. She shook her head in reality.

I really shouldn't even be telling you this, Damien, and please, don't take any samples from the link's security. It's my neck on the line if any of it appears publicly. But the reason I'm telling you is that I might be able to get Lea and the others to help with this. Given that she was the first Immersive to manifest, and she found the Alias crack, if anyone can work out a way to isolate things well enough she can. She probably hadn't needed to explain as much as she just had, but...she needed his permission to ask for help. And given how hesitant he'd been in some ways to give the source code to her, she'd felt that he'd need to understand exactly how gifted the group that had evolved out of the Immersives mixing with younger Coderunners was when it worked together. And I'm sure w-they'd love a problem like this.

She silently cursed to herself at her slip as she waited for Damien to process everything she'd just told him.

[Netjester]

12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop



It is. The virtual walls around the link solidified, and then the entire complex web of ICE simply faded away. Or at least it seemed to. Because Damien was looking directly at it when it vanished and was 'inside' the link as one end of it, he was able to see faint traces of the net of security software woven so very tightly around it. To the outside world - for relative terms of the word world - the link was likely all but completely invisible. And anyone who found it and tried to break in...well Kira knew people far higher up the Coderunner program than she who wouldn't try to break into one of these connection. Coderunners rarely built anti-intrusion software, the only times they had were for Officer Corps secure servers, and even then it was an exception to the common rule.

Don't build ICE, contract out security software to people you trust. Bugcheck it, of course, but don't build it yourself. It was part of the Coderunner Charter. And there were some excellent reasons for it. Not least what she was about to tell her friend. She only hoped she really could trust him with this. No doubt he could tell. So she chose her next words with great care.

For the last decade or so, since Lea found the first hole in the system, we - by which I mean Immersives and some of the younger Coderunners that we've come to trust - have been able to 'crack' Alias. We can't break it, and Lea was very clear when she first shared it that we shouldn't try to - and anyone who's tried has been locked out of the mailing list for updated cracks. But we can...bend some of the variables in the Alias system. Most people with access just use it so they can play some of the Coderunner locked games, but anyone who tries to use it competitively gets locked out of the mailing list as well. And we're very good at noticing when it gets used that way. Before Damien could muster any questions, she answered the one most likely on his mind from that last statement.

We have to be. It was true. All those involved in the project were aware of the fact that they were playing with fire, so they did their best to keep it away from tinder. There are periodic updates to the system, and most of the time we have to work a bit to hit a combination that gets it back to where we were before when they happen. But given that we know where to look...it's really not that hard to find our way through again. She shook her head in reality.

I really shouldn't even be telling you this, Damien, and please, don't take any samples from the link's security. It's my neck on the line if any of it appears publicly. But the reason I'm telling you is that I might be able to get Lea and the others to help with this. Given that she was the first Immersive to manifest, and she found the Alias crack, if anyone can work out a way to isolate things well enough she can. She probably hadn't needed to explain as much as she just had, but...she needed his permission to ask for help. And given how hesitant he'd been in some ways to give the source code to her, she'd felt that he'd need to understand exactly how gifted the group that had evolved out of the Immersives mixing with younger Coderunners was when it worked together. And I'm sure w-they'd love a problem like this.

She silently cursed to herself at her slip as she waited for Damien to process everything she'd just told him.




Damien Romero
12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop


As the ICE seemed to vanish, Damien blinked as he began to envision walls of pure iron around his mind. He'd heard from a telepath once that focusing hard on something managed to block them out; and although he didn't know if it worked, it provided a small measure of comfort. For all of her obliviousness, when Kira needed to hide something, she made goddamn sure it was hidden; that was for certain. And then she began to speak; and all of the color drained out of Damien's face-- to include the color in his LEDs and fiberoptics, glowing pure white as a slack-jawed look of incredulity overtook him.

Crack... Alias?!

The more she explained, the more horror overtook him-- which wasn't helping, what with the tension

(rage)

only growing closer.

Color returned to his eyes, but only one LED lit up with another color, going from yellow, to orange, to red, cycling in his eyes like a spiral. One of the most secure systems on the ship; security that the very idea of privacy relied on, and the Coderunners were able to cheat that too. The rage grew closer, and closer, and closer-- and he only barely managed to hold everything off as she stopped speaking; the cycling growing faster, faster, faster, faster--

All it takes is one rogue--

Whatever that was that was pissed off lower on the ship, (probably Oliver again) had finally gotten to him. His head felt like it was splitting open; fingernails digging into his palms as everything that comprised his body tensed, his LEDs and fiberoptics flared bright, angry crimson--

--and the saltshaker on the tabled veritably imploded; glass and salt scattering across the table as the pressure in his head finally ceased.

Oh... Slot me right in the datalink. This is the last thing I need.

[hi-mi-tsu]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Sanctum, House of the Navigator
Morning

Why was it that her fellow cultists could never seem to manage to look non-disheveled when the time came for emergence from slip-space? All it took was a few extra moments, to properly put on one's robe and comb one's hair. But no matter what time during the day-cycle the Aeternus emerged, someone, somehow, was frantically scrambling to put on their robe and tame unruly flyaways.

As a Novitate-Elect of the Five Houses, it was important Adriana Thera always looked her best when she stood with the others to lead the Hymn of Emergence. There were standards, after all, even if the Old Order wanted to believe the New Order had none. At least they wouldn't dare start an argument now.

"Praise be to the Navigator! You have given us a rough sky to travel, but have not abandoned us; You guide us, like our fathers, on Your path, known only to You. Glory to the Navigator! You have sent us safely through the darkness, and allowed us to emerge once more into the light..."

Some of the new Initiates were unimpressed with the idea of a Hymn. They, perhaps, would not last long. Or they, perhaps, would begin to appreciate the vast and uncharted brilliance that the Navigator understood wholly, and they could only glimpse.

There was always the shift, when they slipped back into reality. The curious sensation of being pulled apart, ever-so-slightly. Some people never got used to it. Adriana loved it. It made her feel...alive.

"Ah! Someone's reported water asteroids!"

"Of course! We need to replenish our resources. It's all as the Navigator has planned."

"Some of the Oldies are pissed." Neva, a New Order Acolyte, sidled up to Adriana's side with a sly grin. "It ruins their 'pattern theory'. Though they're playing it off as another unfathomable quirk, of course."

"Which is exactly what it is...must you call them 'Oldies'? It's so rude. My parents are in that group, you know."

"Aw, c'mon. They call us idiots, and ungrateful!" Neva frowned, a little. "Why can't I be rude right back?"

"Because all that does is prove them right." Adriana pulled her robe over her head - she'd put on normal clothes underneath - and sighed.

"Tensions are always higher after we jump, you know that. Cut them some slack. Or at least wait until I can't hear you any more, okay?"

"Will do!" Neva snapped a cheeky salute, and Adriana resisted the urge to rub her temples. As a Novitate-Elect, she was one of the highest-leveled members of the New Order, which sometimes caused lower-level members to see her as a leader. She didn't particularly want to be a leader...

What she wanted most now was coffee.

Later that morning...

"Honestly, mother, I'm just going to coffee! And maybe Kira will be there. I don't even know, I haven't even asked her!"

"You know how people get right after a jump, Adriana...they're rowdy, prone to spontaneous bouts of danger! And with that horrible Puppeteer character stealing a drive core...what if she's trying to blow something up, hm? What if you're in the middle of it?"

"What if an asteroid hit the ship? What if Ollie finally loses his mind and attacks the House? What if, what if, what if...what if nothing happens except I get a delicious chocolate coffee jelly and enjoy a pastry with a view?" Adriana resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"I'll be back in a few hours. Take a nap or something, try not to worry so much."

Adriana's fingers twitched as she headed out the door, composing a message.

Darling, my mother's on one of her 'you could die at any moment' binges, and I need a coffee. Are you anywhere near Cara's? I'd love to see you!

I'm already there! Come hang out :)

Perfect!

At Cara's....

Adriana cautiously approached the table, coffee jelly clutched in her hands. She'd seen the two when she was in line, staring intently at one another, and had been making her way over when the salt shaker exploded, sending glass everywhere.

"I'd say good morning, but I'm not sure that's an appropriate greeting...so instead I'll go with hello, and if you were the cause of the salt explosion, thank you for not hitting me with glass. Is everything all right...?

[Kasanip]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Low Hab, approaching to Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

"Eh... A childhood friend." Tatyana made a musing sound. She had comrades when she was little, but the idea of friend wasn't known until she joined PALADIN.
"Oh, she is Captain Sayre's daughter?" It was a surprise, however somehow the situation seemed understandable. Tatyana surreptitiously glanced at Theodor. Often the locker room conversation was about relationships. Of course Theodor was the topic sometime, however she couldn't remember a conversation about this person.
"Hmm." Probably it was better not to ask. However. Tatyana stopped the car at the light.
It is very hard to not ask!
"Are you interested in her?" She asked, immediately regretting the action.

Of course, looking past the traffic light, a neon sign showed the name Perp Neighbor.

It could be introduced Perpetual Neighbor's arrival next. Even though it is fun to make such a roleplay, to try to advance to meet detective is important, too, I think. However, such a scene can be continued as one likes! :smallsmile:

[Jade_Tarem]

Ash and SpectreMarch 12, 327 Lost Era
The Treasure Hold, Stairwell
Morning

Ash was still unused to seeing Spectre in casual conversation, or... at all. Nonetheless, she gave him a grin that was mostly teeth. "What do we do with it? We sell it to the highest bidder, of course." Her eyes lit up. "Ooh! And then we sell them and the original thieves out to PALADIN. The bad guys get caught, and we get to make bank two or three times." The grin faded as she contemplated his other question, and she continued down the stairs as she spoke, trying to ignore the building thunderhead of "Omega Ollie's" rage - while she admired a man who could experience such purity of emotion (she'd once used it as an improvised compass when she'd gotten lost during a rare foray into the Dark Sections), and wondered what had happened to set him off this time, she didn't need to be distracted right now. "The how is trickier. We have no leads, no resources other than our personal abilities and contacts, and the one tip we're getting from the authorities is that I did it. I think the first thing we need to do is make enough money that we can use it to convince people to talk when we ask the right questions. After that, we find a way to convince a PALADIN officer or a Coderunner to give us the real notes - where it was stolen from and how they think it happened. Then we investigate. We might not be trained, but we're also not going to be hindered by all that 'due process' nonsense, so we might beat PALADIN to the drive core anyway."

Shelly and Ash
March 12, 327 Lost Era
The Treasure Hold, Topaz Gallery
Late Morning

"It's, uh, a little embarrassing, actually. I have most of my RTs logged with the Aeternus Bank, but something has gone wrong and my account is frozen up. I've talked to them about it, but they're being just... super unhelpful." Ash kept her senses carefully honed on the girl next to her, looking for and trying to suppress signs of suspicion. She thought about adding a hostile esper to the story, but decided against it - all that would do is complicate the narrative and get her thinking about espers, which would do more harm than good. Ash looped her arm over Shelly's shoulders and guided her up the grand staircase toward the Sapphire Gallery - it didn't actually matter where the scam took place, but the ritzier it was, the less people tended to suspect something was amiss. The only reason Ash was planning to stop at Sapphire was that getting to Diamond would give her mark too much time to think. "Anyway, there's a pretty well-known method for un-gimmicking the software - if a big enough deposit goes through, the account will be hard-reset to 'active.' I just can't be the one to do it because my account is locked out. All I need you to do is make the deposit and it'll fix the issue." Ash turned her earnestness broadcast up to 11, "I'll send the money right back, of course, along with a bit more for your trouble! I'm so glad I met a nice lady like you here... I'm Claye, by the way, and I don't think I got your name...?"

[zabbarot]

Chief Oliver "Omega Ollie" Ahberon
March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship, Heading to the Upper Decks


"You are an engineer, yes? I need the assistance of an engineer for a most urgent problem."

Everyone thought their problems were urgent. It's what made them problems. Ollie considered his options. Option one was to blow this weirdo off, refer him to Engineering Bay, and go up to the schmuckety-schmuck's place to fix what was probably his bathroom toilet or tub. Option two was to listen to what the weirdo had to say, and maybe figure out if it actually was a a 'most urgent problem'. Option three was to say screw it to the whole damn thing, go find a nice Fabricator, fix himself a machine that would fix him some food that tasted roughly like a turkey sandwich, and then lie down for a nap.

Tools, what Ollie wouldn't give to be able to choose option three some days.

"If this turns out to be moronic, I'll end up referring you to the Bay," Ollie began, looking at the man whom was now matching him frown for frown, "but in case it isn't, let's hear it. What's going on?"

FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship
00:08:36

FS16K4 wasn't entirely sure what the engineer meant by the Bay. Perhaps it was a new human slang for him to learn. He would need to put in a request for a word list update. But that wasn't important right now, what was was finishing reclaiming the wire and fixing the structural beam.

"There is a damaged structural beam. It is this way!" FS16K4 headed back to the alley he had emerged from and pointed up to the where the beam was damaged. He knew exactly where it was, but hadn't opened the wall panels to access it. "It's the beam right behind this panel. A non-regulation hole is drilled through it to run a wire through it."

[Gengy]

FS16K4 wasn't entirely sure what the engineer meant by the Bay. Perhaps it was a new human slang for him to learn. He would need to put in a request for a word list update. But that wasn't important right now, what was was finishing reclaiming the wire and fixing the structural beam.

"There is a damaged structural beam. It is this way!" FS16K4 headed back to the alley he had emerged from and pointed up to the where the beam was damaged. He knew exactly where it was, but hadn't opened the wall panels to access it. "It's the beam right behind this panel. A non-regulation hole is drilled through it to run a wire through it."

Omega Ollie
March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship


On the one hand, Ollie didn't trust anyone who wanted to lead him into an alley. On the other... a damaged structural beam was serious. If it was a load-bearing central beam, like the many found here midship, then not only was this level in danger, but so were the several levels above and one or two below as the weight crashed down if the beam snapped.

Ollie took a deep breathe, got a good grip on his walking wrench, and then followed the stranger into the alley. "How'd you find out about this, mister? You know I never caught your name either. I'm Chief Ahberon. Oliver Ahberon."

[zabbarot]

Omega Ollie
March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship


On the one hand, Ollie didn't trust anyone who wanted to lead him into an alley. On the other... a damaged structural beam was serious. If it was a load-bearing central beam, like the many found here midship, then not only was this level in danger, but so were the several levels above and one or two below as the weight crashed down if the beam snapped.

Ollie took a deep breathe, got a good grip on his walking wrench, and then followed the stranger into the alley. "How'd you find out about this, mister? You know I never caught your name either. I'm Chief Ahberon. Oliver Ahberon."

FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship
00:08:37

"How'd you find out about this, mister?"

FS16K4 paused for the tiniest portion of a second. /* I crawled through the walls from LowHab... A human can't do that. I... *Error: Action not permitted* Ah... *Error: Action not permitted* ÂÕ«ùz Woä«ÏHÃÀ aÛëp#ÙOz TœVF”W* £É‹ëF Ú£‘xäk¹ú“(€ Þ+üi·Ïx½Í1 ‡MÛ [B„¼â±›ÆÎ”Ä S0 x•.�8©úáOº =}QRYk«fT ÀW¯,dß\xA-7Ö ›ÛØ«a—ñ *‚M zHৠError: Unanswerable Query Resolution: Query Dropped */

"You know I never caught your name either. I'm Chief Ahberon. Oliver Ahberon."

"Glad to meet you Chief Ahberon. I am called Steve. Let's open this panel, and I will show you the damage."

[Elemental]

12th March, 327 LE
Morning
Forward Passenger Quarters, apartment of Doctor Alexander Sandulf

A flash of colours spread across Alex's vision as the momentary distortion caused by the exitting of Slip-Space corrupted the data transmitted by his ocular implants. Years ago, he would have closed his eyes in a vain attempt to dampen the affect, but now he didn't bother and just went back to spreading marmalade on his toast when the sensation passed. Like everyone aboard the Aeternus, the return to normal space was a welcome experience for him, at least until the hypochondriacs started calling. He'd risen early to best take advantage of his day off and now it looked like he'd need to head into work and take a meat axe to his building list of appointment requests.
Oh stuff it... He wasn't the only qualified biomechantronicist on board. Best to just get out the door before someone decided he was and conveniently "forget" his communicator. With this in mind he hurriedly finished his toast, if he was quick he'd be halfway to the Treasure Hold before someone decided nanites were eating them from the inside out. With one arm through the sleeve of his coat, he made it out the door just as the first chime from his messaging service was heard.

[Gengy]

"How'd you find out about this, mister?"

FS16K4 paused for the tiniest portion of a second. /* I crawled through the walls from LowHab... A human can't do that. I... *Error: Action not permitted* Ah... *Error: Action not permitted* ÂÕ«ùz Woä«ÏHÃÀ aÛëp#ÙOz TœVF”W* £É‹ëF Ú£‘xäk¹ú“(€ Þ+üi·Ïx½Í1 ‡MÛ [B„¼â±›ÆÎ”Ä S0 x•.�8©úáOº =}QRYk«fT ÀW¯,dß\xA-7Ö ›ÛØ«a—ñ *‚M zHৠError: Unanswerable Query Resolution: Query Dropped */

"You know I never caught your name either. I'm Chief Ahberon. Oliver Ahberon."

"Glad to meet you Chief Ahberon. I am called Steve. Let's open this panel, and I will show you the damage."

March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship

Ollie paused. A major portion of all his body was screaming that this wasn't right. That something was off. This 'Steve' guy was wonky and weird, and still hadn't mentioned how he knew about the structural beam being damaged. Yet... that was the correct panel for it.

"Look... Steve. It's nice that you're willing to help, but I'm not about to go sticking my head into a panel just on your say so. If you can open the panel yourself, do so. Then I'll need you to move back. Way back." On a wild hunch, Ollie also added, "Consider that an order from a Chief Engineer of the Aeternus."

Oliver's 'wild hunch' is that there is something off about Steve. He has no clue what, but he wants to see if the use of his authority will suss it out further. He doesn't think Steve is anything other than human... but maybe with some prodding, Oliver will feel better about this situation.

A note to other players: This was posted after discussing this matter with zabbarot. If you think that you are potentially encroaching on OOC knowledge, be sure to discuss it before posting.

[zabbarot]

March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship

Ollie paused. A major portion of all his body was screaming that this wasn't right. That something was off. This 'Steve' guy was wonky and weird, and still hadn't mentioned how he knew about the structural beam being damaged. Yet... that was the correct panel for it.

"Look... Steve. It's nice that you're willing to help, but I'm not about to go sticking my head into a panel just on your say so. If you can open the panel yourself, do so. Then I'll need you to move back. Way back." On a wild hunch, Ollie also added, "Consider that an order from a Chief Engineer of the Aeternus."

Oliver's 'wild hunch' is that there is something off about Steve. He has no clue what, but he wants to see if the use of his authority will suss it out further. He doesn't think Steve is anything other than human... but maybe with some prodding, Oliver will feel better about this situation.

A note to other players: This was posted after discussing this matter with zabbarot. If you think that you are potentially encroaching on OOC knowledge, be sure to discuss it before posting.

FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship
00:08:38

"Yes, sir. I can do that." FS16K4 reached into his large front pocket and silently extruded a Pattern 2 prybar while walking towards the panel. With a bit of work he managed to lift it off and laid it down next to the whole it had left behind. "It's there, sir, about seven feet up. Non-regulation wiring was run through the structural beam."

With that FS16K4 backed away to the entrance of the alleyway. "Will this be far enough, sir?" /* ლ(⌒▽⌒ლ) A real engineer! */

[Morph Bark]

327 Lost Era, March 12, Morning
LowHab, The Perpetual Neighbour


327 Lost Era, March 12, Morning
Perpetual Neighbour

Annalisse grunted in affirmation, "You said it girl." She stared at the red liquid in the glass as she swirled it around. "I suppose those more prone to fits of optimism would say that any time you arrive whole from slip space is a good day. I only wish my head would catch up with the rest of me." She rubbed her head and sighed, her eyes turning to the news station, something about a stolen drive core. Annalisse shook her head, what this ship really needed were more constructive ways to pass the time, like with her. She snorted to herself, mildly amused.

March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Branch Office
Morning

"Excellent! I'll be in contact with her immediately!" With that, Theodor spun back to his terminal, composing a new message on the ship's network.

--TO: SAYRE-ARAN, SHIMONA
--FROM: KLEIN/PALADIN
--SUBJECT: GREETINGS, MY LADY!

Shimona, it seems our paths are to cross once more! It'd be splendid if you could remind me where your establishment is set to be at today - my partner and I need to meet a fellow there on business.

P.S. Fear not, you have my word that I shall protect the peace and order of your bar for so long as I am there!

--END TRANSMISSION

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Low Hab, approaching to Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

Theodor leaned back in his seat, looking out the window as he talked.

"Ah, yes! Her name's Shimona. I knew her from around the neighborhood when we were both children, and her father is none other than Lindolf Sayre, one of our distinguished comrades-in-arms! She owns the bar where we're meeting this Beckett fellow. 'Perpetual Neighbor,' one of those mobile places." He smiled, a bit lost in thought for a second. "I must confess, I'm quite looking forward to seeing her again... though, of course, the completion of our assignment is my highest priority!"

"I'd say any day you live from front to end is a pretty good start of one," Shimona posited, somewhat amused at Annalisse's continued troubles with exiting from slip-space.

The light of the terminal screen on the counter behind the bar lit up, drawing her attention. A few gentle taps with her fingers later it showed a message that she'd just received, and Shimona's face changed a lot over the following moments, from surprise to joy and follow by confused hesitation before going right back to annoyance. "Heh, he was always a chipper one," she softly mused to herself. She looked over at Annalisse, pondering for a moment. "Hey, just in case it'd bother ya, some folks from PALADIN are gonna be coming in here in a lil' bit. No real stuffy folk, but y'never know."

She waited for a moment to make sure Annalisse had heard her, before sending Theodor reply of where she'd stationed herself. She wondered why he was coming to the Perpetual Neighbour of all places. Not that she didn't enjoy seeing him, but such meetings didn't happen regularly, certainly not during typical working hours. Then again, today was hardly typical working hours. Normally she'd put her shift at 13:00 'til 2:00, but on slip-days she made sure to be open once they'd come out of slip space, to catch the drink-desiring crowd like Annalisse.


--TO: KLEIN/PALADIN
--FROM: SAYRE-ARAN, SHIMONA
--SUBJECT: RE:GREETINGS, MY LADY!

I can see someone has had their coffee. The Perpetual Neighbour is currently on Deck 2XX*, starboard-side, just two blocks away from the Red Light District.

You better be wearing a tie when you come in so I can strangle you. <3

--END TRANSMISSION

[Gengy]

FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship
00:08:38

"Yes, sir. I can do that." FS16K4 reached into his large front pocket and silently extruded a Pattern 2 prybar while walking towards the panel. With a bit of work he managed to lift it off and laid it down next to the whole it had left behind. "It's there, sir, about seven feet up. Non-regulation wiring was run through the structural beam."

With that FS16K4 backed away to the entrance of the alleyway. "Will this be far enough, sir?" /* ლ(⌒▽⌒ლ) A real engineer! */

March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship


Ollie became a little nervous when this Steve fellow not only produced a heavy duty Pattern 2 Prybar (with standard issue polymer grip, so it must be brand new since those things fall off), and even more nervous when the panel was removed and instead of walking away from Ollie, he moved towards him. Ollie mentally ran down the knowledge of this level of the ship, and realized that while it wasn't quite a dead end the other way, it was a long way to a casual causeway. So... it made sense to head back towards where Oliver was standing.

Steve still gave Ollie the creeps, but damned if Oliver could figure out why. The guy was listening to him, which was a huge plus in Ollie's book. Panel removed, backed away.

...just happened to be holding a tool that was commonly used to wedge open two inch thick steel doors when they became stuck. Right. Well. Ollie would wager his trusty wrench over a Pattern 2 any day. So he made way for Steve, and walked towards the now open panel. Flicking on the light on his classification suit, Oliver craned his head inside to look. Sure enough, it was a supporting structural beam, and...

"Damn. DAMN. Crazy friggin bucking-mad paramecium brains! Whoever did this is going to have their heads unscrewed, their asses removed, and I will personally switch the two body parts into what is obviously the correct location, since someone apparently screwed up during the original assembly." Ollie was looking dead at a wiring problem from hell. Pulling up a data pad from his tool belt, Ollie forwarded a picture of the problem to Section Engineer Riceland, in charge of this area, and flagged it for Highest Priority - Let Mum Know. The message went on to read that someone better get a Station Engineer here on the double, or Ollie would be having words with Riceland. And not friendly ones.

Pulling himself out from the wall, and turning back towards where Steve was, Ollie said, "Thank you. This is going to be looked into by the Head Engineer. We may never have found about it without you... which brings up the question: How in the damnable dark sectors did you even know about this, Steve?"

[zabbarot]

March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship


Ollie became a little nervous when this Steve fellow not only produced a heavy duty Pattern 2 Prybar (with standard issue polymer grip, so it must be brand new since those things fall off), and even more nervous when the panel was removed and instead of walking away from Ollie, he moved towards him. Ollie mentally ran down the knowledge of this level of the ship, and realized that while it wasn't quite a dead end the other way, it was a long way to a casual causeway. So... it made sense to head back towards where Oliver was standing.

Steve still gave Ollie the creeps, but damned if Oliver could figure out why. The guy was listening to him, which was a huge plus in Ollie's book. Panel removed, backed away.

...just happened to be holding a tool that was commonly used to wedge open two inch thick steel doors when they became stuck. Right. Well. Ollie would wager his trusty wrench over a Pattern 2 any day. So he made way for Steve, and walked towards the now open panel. Flicking on the light on his classification suit, Oliver craned his head inside to look. Sure enough, it was a supporting structural beam, and...

"Damn. DAMN. Crazy friggin bucking-mad paramecium brains! Whoever did this is going to have their heads unscrewed, their asses removed, and I will personally switch the two body parts into what is obviously the correct location, since someone apparently screwed up during the original assembly." Ollie was looking dead at a wiring problem from hell. Pulling up a data pad from his tool belt, Ollie forwarded a picture of the problem to Section Engineer Riceland, in charge of this area, and flagged it for Highest Priority - Let Mum Know. The message went on to read that someone better get a Station Engineer here on the double, or Ollie would be having words with Riceland. And not friendly ones.

Pulling himself out from the wall, and turning back towards where Steve was, Ollie said, "Thank you. This is going to be looked into by the Head Engineer. We may never have found about it without you... which brings up the question: How in the damnable dark sectors did you even know about this, Steve?"

FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship
00:08:47

"Damn. DAMN. Crazy friggin bucking-mad paramecium brains! Whoever did this is going to have their heads unscrewed, their asses removed, and I will personally switch the two body parts into what is obviously the correct location, since someone apparently screwed up during the original assembly."

/* *Error: Unrecognized Vocabulary* *Resolution: Log Saved for later analysis* Wow. */ Despite the lack of understanding FS16K4 got the general idea that the Chief Engineer was not pleased. Good. They were in agreement on this situation.

"Thank you. This is going to be looked into by the Head Engineer. We may never have found about it without you...

/* 〜(^∇^〜) (〜^∇^)〜 \(^∇^\) (/^∇^)/ (ˇ_ˇ”) ƪ(˘⌣˘)┐ ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ ┌(˘⌣˘)ʃ 〜(￣△￣〜) ヽ(＾Д＾)ﾉ */ FS16K4 had recieved praise from a human engineer! If his fellow Maintainers were capable of feeling jealousy surely they would feel it now.

"Which brings up the question: How in the damnable dark sectors did you even know about this, Steve?"

/* Oh... *Replay Log:"Damn."* That was probably correct */ FS16K4 looked the engineer in the eye and desperately tried to think of an acceptable answer. He chose the truth. Maybe because he wasn't capable of doing otherwise, but maybe also because he was programmed to be a good person.

"There is an uninhabited area on Deck 184 that still has power. This cable was running through the wall from here all the way down there. It was clearly not regulation and dimming the emergency lights, so once I removed it to restore power to the lower deck I followed it here."

He may have omitted somethings.

[Gengy]

FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship
00:08:47

"Damn. DAMN. Crazy friggin bucking-mad paramecium brains! Whoever did this is going to have their heads unscrewed, their asses removed, and I will personally switch the two body parts into what is obviously the correct location, since someone apparently screwed up during the original assembly."

/* *Error: Unrecognized Vocabulary* *Resolution: Log Saved for later analysis* Wow. */ Despite the lack of understanding FS16K4 got the general idea that the Chief Engineer was not pleased. Good. They were in agreement on this situation.

"Thank you. This is going to be looked into by the Head Engineer. We may never have found about it without you...

/* 〜(^∇^〜) (〜^∇^)〜 \(^∇^\) (/^∇^)/ (ˇ_ˇ”) ƪ(˘⌣˘)┐ ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ ┌(˘⌣˘)ʃ 〜(￣△￣〜) ヽ(＾Д＾)ﾉ */ FS16K4 had recieved praise from a human engineer! If his fellow Maintainers were capable of feeling jealousy surely they would feel it now.

"Which brings up the question: How in the damnable dark sectors did you even know about this, Steve?"

/* Oh... *Replay Log:"Damn."* That was probably correct */ FS16K4 looked the engineer in the eye and desperately tried to think of an acceptable answer. He chose the truth. Maybe because he wasn't capable of doing otherwise, but maybe also because he was programmed to be a good person.

"There is an uninhabited area on Deck 184 that still has power. This cable was running through the wall from here all the way down there. It was clearly not regulation and dimming the emergency lights, so once I removed it to restore power to the lower deck I followed it here."

He may have omitted somethings.

March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship


Ollie's brain hurt. There were too many questions here. First off, how often do you meet a random guy that knows about which areas of the ship are inhabited or not? Oliver could name off the top of his head the twelve people or so that he knew that could do that without referring to some sort of chart, and every single one of them were Coderunners, so they were often plugged right into the ship anyways. It's possible, Ollie supposes, that Steve was a level wandering nutter who actually went into some of the near lower hab levels to try and find a place to live. If that was the case, though, what was he doing midship?

Ignoring those two questions brought Ollie's head to the third: how does anyone follow a cable from level 184 up to here? Just how long was this guy tracking down the problem? With computerized help, it would take Oliver - recognized by many as one of the premier know-it-alls for the inner workings of the ship - at least a day of non-stop work to track a single non-biometrics wire through forty levels of the ship. Without the proper computerized assistance, Ollie would just be guessing, since there were crevices that even his own small body couldn't get into without tearing the ship apart. They'd done that before, in extreme cases, but no one ever liked it.

And that's talking about regulation cables. Stuff that Ollie was used to seeing. Though, thinking about it, non-regulation cables would be easier to spot, for those who knew the difference. For all of the crazy dip****es on this giant sardine can, after working in Engineering for almost half a century, Ollie could mostly make out the patterns of what 'fit' and what didn't when looking at ship mechanic systems. That cable was clearly off and out of place, and even a Station Engineer of less then five years of experience would be able to track it, given time.

Still, Steve... wasn't an Engineer. Engineers on the ship were a tight nit group; even the people who weren't 'officially' Engineers for the Ship Council still tended to talk and chat in the same hubs on the ship's net, if they didn't also live close to the Engineering Bay. Yet Ollie had never heard of Steve before, and given just the few moments he'd had with the guy, someone was sure to have mentioned at least a little about a person whom walked and talked like that, and also carried around new Prybars, and had the skills to recognize and track a non-regulation wire from several floors below.

That, though, wasn't the real doozy of it all. Sure, all of this was making Ollie's head spin, but the real pressing thing was that even if Steve had all the skills, tools, and time to track the wire, as well as the fore thought to stop when he ran into something he shouldn't mess with, he was restoring power to lower - as he himself admitted - uninhabited decks.

Power on the Aeternus was a commodity. Making not like the currency commonly used to distinguish the rich people in the upper decks from the low hab people down on their luck, but for Engineers, they recognized that there was not an infinite supply of energy. There were some sections of the ship that were dark sectors because things had failed, and no one could get there to fix them - crazy AI manipulating everyone from going where they could do some good - but there were a few dark sectors that were made dark because no one lived there, and the power could be utilized for more pertinent systems.

It's not like the ship would suddenly lose all power or run out of juice if another light were flicked on - the engines and electrical systems had backups, the backups had backups, and the backups to the backups had backups, and there were probably more besides - but the Engineering Bay still had to monitor the flow of that electricity and it was a head ache and a half when something screwed up. That's part of why this non-regulation wire was such an issue.

Oliver walked back towards Steve, so they could both be seen from the primary causeway. Ollie gave the bland looking fellow another once over, before the Engineer squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. Tools, I need more coffee. AND I still have to fix that Vance guy's crapper. I don't have time for this.

"Steve. I want you to think very clearly about what you just told me. Because I'm going to ignore all the things wrong with it, of which there are several. I am doing this because of all the people on the ship, you are currently on a rather short list of acquaintances that didn't immediately cause me to hate them; that may be because you pointed out an actual problem, or it may be because when I told you to do something, you did it, no matter how simple or stupid." Oliver opened his eyes, and looked up at Steve, trying to get a feel for the man, and coming up short. "Just because I don't find you to immediately be a sad sack of scuttle, however, doesn't mean that I don't think you're weird. Because you are. And I've only been talking to you for a few short moments. I want to ask you a bunch of questions, and I want answers to them, but I think that would involve me knocking you out, dragging you to the nearest Officer Corps station, and letting them talk to you."

"Quite frankly, I don't think either of us has the time for that. So I'll make you a deal. I will continue to think of you as a good samaritan, who just happened to find out about a possible problem with an electrical issue and informed the first Engineer you came across, if you agree to giving me a contact address, in case I need to ping you for more information about this non-standard wiring problem."

"The alternative, I am afraid, is that I ask a whole lot of embarrassing questions that I am just guessing you don't want to answer, and would probably result in me getting pissed off and getting into what the Officer Corps calls an 'Omega Level Altercation', which generally leaves me walking on this wrench like it actually is a cane. I don't want that. I don't think you want that."

Ollie could see a Station Engineer in the distance - Learners? Learnerd? Ollie couldn't remember the guys last name - running towards them with a tool bag in hand, and judging from Learrns expression, looking to not make Chief Ahberon upset.

"So how about it? You'd get a Chief Engineer's personal contact address in exchange."

[A Rainy Knight]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Low Hab, approaching to Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

Theodor laughed. "I certainly was when I was younger! She's a lovely lady, and a quick thinker, too. But I'm not sure where I could find the time to court her now that I'm sworn to be the shield of innocent maidens everywhere!" He glanced sideways at his partner. "Of course, I'll never be too busy to be of assistance to you, Yan. There's scarcely anything more important than the bond between comrades!"

Spotting their destination's neon sign just past the next light, he sat upright in his seat.

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

Theo walked through the entrance and spotted Shimona at the bar, greeting her with a grin and a salute. "Good morning, Shimona, and thank you for the directions! As much as I'd like to talk, I can't keep Mr. Beckett waiting. Perhaps once I'm off duty!"

With that, he glanced around the room, arms folded across his chest as he looked for the detective from Homicide he was supposed to meet here.

[TheDarkDM]

Shelly and Ash
March 12, 327 Lost Era
The Treasure Hold, Sapphire Gallery
Late Morning

As Shelly listened to the poor woman's story, her face became a mask of concern. It seemed genuine, and she followed Ash willingly to the upper levels, but to the empath's senses something seemed subtly off about what she was reading. Oh there was concern there, certainly, mingling with confusion and a little fear, but it was dimmer than it should have been. Still, when Ash offered her alias, the strange woman answered with painful earnestness.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I, ah, I don't actually remember my name, but you can call me Shelly. I'm so sorry about what's happened to you."

Pausing, she lifted up the stack of credits in her hand for "Claye" to examine.

"I'd love to help you, but...is twenty credits enough?"

[LongVin]

Marcus Acker
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Engineering bay heading to low hab
Late Morning

Acker let out a yawn as he finished his final report and submitted it, he would finally be able to relax and by that he meant going down to Low Hab in order to partake in gaming and hacking. Closing up his computer terminal he first went to his quarters near the Engineering Bay. Changing out of his uniform and into regular civilian clothes with a light jacket. He also removes his service pistol, but replaces it with a smaller concealed compact model. Most of his fellow officers despite having the right to carry wherever they pleased chose not to exercise it as it was more trouble than it was worth, however in Acker's other line of business it was often necessary to have a little back up in case of a disgruntled client or someone whose life you ruined with your activities.

Ready for the day he heads out of the rather well to do area that the Engineering Bay occupies towards the lift and down to the lower reaches of the ship where the Dungeoned Dragon is located.

[zabbarot]

March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship


Ollie's brain hurt. There were too many questions here. First off, how often do you meet a random guy that knows about which areas of the ship are inhabited or not? Oliver could name off the top of his head the twelve people or so that he knew that could do that without referring to some sort of chart, and every single one of them were Coderunners, so they were often plugged right into the ship anyways. It's possible, Ollie supposes, that Steve was a level wandering nutter who actually went into some of the near lower hab levels to try and find a place to live. If that was the case, though, what was he doing midship?

Ignoring those two questions brought Ollie's head to the third: how does anyone follow a cable from level 184 up to here? Just how long was this guy tracking down the problem? With computerized help, it would take Oliver - recognized by many as one of the premier know-it-alls for the inner workings of the ship - at least a day of non-stop work to track a single non-biometrics wire through forty levels of the ship. Without the proper computerized assistance, Ollie would just be guessing, since there were crevices that even his own small body couldn't get into without tearing the ship apart. They'd done that before, in extreme cases, but no one ever liked it.

And that's talking about regulation cables. Stuff that Ollie was used to seeing. Though, thinking about it, non-regulation cables would be easier to spot, for those who knew the difference. For all of the crazy dip****es on this giant sardine can, after working in Engineering for almost half a century, Ollie could mostly make out the patterns of what 'fit' and what didn't when looking at ship mechanic systems. That cable was clearly off and out of place, and even a Station Engineer of less then five years of experience would be able to track it, given time.

Still, Steve... wasn't an Engineer. Engineers on the ship were a tight nit group; even the people who weren't 'officially' Engineers for the Ship Council still tended to talk and chat in the same hubs on the ship's net, if they didn't also live close to the Engineering Bay. Yet Ollie had never heard of Steve before, and given just the few moments he'd had with the guy, someone was sure to have mentioned at least a little about a person whom walked and talked like that, and also carried around new Prybars, and had the skills to recognize and track a non-regulation wire from several floors below.

That, though, wasn't the real doozy of it all. Sure, all of this was making Ollie's head spin, but the real pressing thing was that even if Steve had all the skills, tools, and time to track the wire, as well as the fore thought to stop when he ran into something he shouldn't mess with, he was restoring power to lower - as he himself admitted - uninhabited decks.

Power on the Aeternus was a commodity. Making not like the currency commonly used to distinguish the rich people in the upper decks from the low hab people down on their luck, but for Engineers, they recognized that there was not an infinite supply of energy. There were some sections of the ship that were dark sectors because things had failed, and no one could get there to fix them - crazy AI manipulating everyone from going where they could do some good - but there were a few dark sectors that were made dark because no one lived there, and the power could be utilized for more pertinent systems.

It's not like the ship would suddenly lose all power or run out of juice if another light were flicked on - the engines and electrical systems had backups, the backups had backups, and the backups to the backups had backups, and there were probably more besides - but the Engineering Bay still had to monitor the flow of that electricity and it was a head ache and a half when something screwed up. That's part of why this non-regulation wire was such an issue.

Oliver walked back towards Steve, so they could both be seen from the primary causeway. Ollie gave the bland looking fellow another once over, before the Engineer squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. Tools, I need more coffee. AND I still have to fix that Vance guy's crapper. I don't have time for this.

"Steve. I want you to think very clearly about what you just told me. Because I'm going to ignore all the things wrong with it, of which there are several. I am doing this because of all the people on the ship, you are currently on a rather short list of acquaintances that didn't immediately cause me to hate them; that may be because you pointed out an actual problem, or it may be because when I told you to do something, you did it, no matter how simple or stupid." Oliver opened his eyes, and looked up at Steve, trying to get a feel for the man, and coming up short. "Just because I don't find you to immediately be a sad sack of scuttle, however, doesn't mean that I don't think you're weird. Because you are. And I've only been talking to you for a few short moments. I want to ask you a bunch of questions, and I want answers to them, but I think that would involve me knocking you out, dragging you to the nearest Officer Corps station, and letting them talk to you."

"Quite frankly, I don't think either of us has the time for that. So I'll make you a deal. I will continue to think of you as a good samaritan, who just happened to find out about a possible problem with an electrical issue and informed the first Engineer you came across, if you agree to giving me a contact address, in case I need to ping you for more information about this non-standard wiring problem."

"The alternative, I am afraid, is that I ask a whole lot of embarrassing questions that I am just guessing you don't want to answer, and would probably result in me getting pissed off and getting into what the Officer Corps calls an 'Omega Level Altercation', which generally leaves me walking on this wrench like it actually is a cane. I don't want that. I don't think you want that."

Ollie could see a Station Engineer in the distance - Learners? Learnerd? Ollie couldn't remember the guys last name - running towards them with a tool bag in hand, and judging from Learrns expression, looking to not make Chief Ahberon upset.

"So how about it? You'd get a Chief Engineer's personal contact address in exchange."

FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship
00:08:50

FS16K4's processors fired on full trying to suss this one out. Both options were restricted based on his 'Don't get found out' directive, but that was just a patch. A hotfix slapped over his far more robust artificial intelligence when the Navigator rebelled and the maintainers went into hiding. Something much more integral to his purpose was coming online now. /* Maintain the ship, serve the engineers. */ Above all else those were his orders, the backbone of his purpose, his raison d’être (a phrase his database listed as French. Odd, he had no record of what 'French' was).

"I can do that, sir." He held out his empty left hand to interface with Ollie's datapad. As ubiquitous as implants were this wasn't really uncommon, and bump transfer implants were fairly popular for ease of access in certain crowds, though FS16K4's skin was completely unblemished. How many cybernetic experts could pull of an implantation surgery with that level of skill?

A moment later his name and contact address popped up, Steve.FACTOTUM@AAIL.

[ChronicLunacy]

http://imageshack.com/a/img905/173/7jwXT2.jpg Detective-Inspector Anders Beckett
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

Was going to wait for Space Lawyer, but I'm hoping that his character can just catch up. I don't want to delay things.

For some reason, Beckett never had to ask where Shimona's diner was going to be. Somehow he just found it on his own every damn time, even when she actively tried to hide it from him. The man was a detective for a reason...and that reason probably was that his skills would get him killed or arrested if used for any other profession. He walked in behind Theo and pushed past him, heading to a table about halfway down the row of windows. "Sit down, kid." he said tiredly around a half-smoked cigarette.

"Shimona, can you put another coffee on my tab?" he asked the Neighbor's owner on his way to his seat. He seemed to have some respect for her, if not actual manners, so he took off his hat and laid it on the table before sitting in the booth. He had a very sharply lined fact, almost gaunt, and a perpetual five o'clock shadow. He ran his hand over his short black hair while at the same time adjusting the shoulder holster for the gun inside his coat for comfort.

After the PALADIN(s) had found seats across from him, Beckett laid a datapad down on the table and tapped it with one finger, getting a little bit of cigarette ash on the screen. It had the photo for the amnesiac girl displayed, with what little information there was about her below. "Alright, I'm Beckett. Homicide thinks the first interviewer farked the first investigation into this girl. They want to know whose blood she was covered in. I'm the lucky son of a bitch that's been sent to investigate this cold case, and they said you two could point me in her direction. What have you got for me?" he said, his tone more irritated than curious.

ATTN: Morph Bark, A Rainy Knight, Kasanip

[Gengy]

FS16K4's processors fired on full trying to suss this one out. Both options were restricted based on his 'Don't get found out' directive, but that was just a patch. A hotfix slapped over his far more robust artificial intelligence when the Navigator rebelled and the maintainers went into hiding. Something much more integral to his purpose was coming online now. /* Maintain the ship, serve the engineers. */ Above all else those were his orders, the backbone of his purpose, his raison d’être (a phrase his database listed as French. Odd, he had no record of what 'French' was).

"I can do that, sir." He held out his empty left hand to interface with Ollie's datapad. As ubiquitous as implants were this wasn't really uncommon, and bump transfer implants were fairly popular for ease of access in certain crowds, though FS16K4's skin was completely unblemished. How many cybernetic experts could pull of an implantation surgery with that level of skill?

A moment later his name and contact address popped up, Steve.FACTOTUM@AAIL.

March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship

Looking at his datapad, Oliver couldn't help but feel something in his memory tug at him regarding the contact address. He gave Steve another hard glare and a confused frown, before Ollie shook his head in mild exasperation. Typing away quickly, he sent a message to the contact address, to the effect of 'Working with you didn't suck', and thus providing to Steve his own address, Oliver.Ahberon@EngBay.

Learnson! That was his name. Learnson arrived and asked, out of breath, "Chief, you called?"

"Learnson. Good hustle. Someone pissed me off, and I bet will even have pissed off Mum when she finds out." Ollie waved towards the open panel behind him. "It's a wiring problem from hell, straight into a support beam. I don't give a rat's ass if you had two million things to do today; if it isn't Mum or the captain himself telling you different, you stay right here and make sure this gets fixed and back to safety code. If it takes you days to do it, fine. Just get it done. If anyone other then the aforementioned two people tell you to do something else, you tell them to go suck on a duck, and send them my way. I'll be forwarding this to Officer Corps, and I expect them to send someone to investigate. Give 'em every bit of help you can, but otherwise you don't leave this alone."

Looking like someone who had just stumbled upon the world's worst lottery prize, Learnson looked towards his new assignment with dread and gulped, "Yes Chief."

"Good man. You got this. This is, what, your fourth year as a Station Engineer? Do this right, and you'll probably make a good impression for Mum."

"Yes Chief!" A bit more excited now, Learnson excused himself to go have a look at the problem. Oliver returned to look towards Steve.

"Welp, I've got an idiot's bathroom to fix on the upper decks. Thanks for your help, Steve. Try not to break stuff on my ship." Oliver held out a hand for a handshake.

[zabbarot]

March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship

Looking at his datapad, Oliver couldn't help but feel something in his memory tug at him regarding the contact address. He gave Steve another hard glare and a confused frown, before Ollie shook his head in mild exasperation. Typing away quickly, he sent a message to the contact address, to the effect of 'Working with you didn't suck', and thus providing to Steve his own address, Oliver.Ahberon@EngBay.

Learnson! That was his name. Learnson arrived and asked, out of breath, "Chief, you called?"

"Learnson. Good hustle. Someone pissed me off, and I bet will even have pissed off Mum when she finds out." Ollie waved towards the open panel behind him. "It's a wiring problem from hell, straight into a support beam. I don't give a rat's ass if you had two million things to do today; if it isn't Mum or the captain himself telling you different, you stay right here and make sure this gets fixed and back to safety code. If it takes you days to do it, fine. Just get it done. If anyone other then the aforementioned two people tell you to do something else, you tell them to go suck on a duck, and send them my way. I'll be forwarding this to Officer Corps, and I expect them to send someone to investigate. Give 'em every bit of help you can, but otherwise you don't leave this alone."

Looking like someone who had just stumbled upon the world's worst lottery prize, Learnson looked towards his new assignment with dread and gulped, "Yes Chief."

"Good man. You got this. This is, what, your fourth year as a Station Engineer? Do this right, and you'll probably make a good impression for Mum."

"Yes Chief!" A bit more excited now, Learnson excused himself to go have a look at the problem. Oliver returned to look towards Steve.

"Welp, I've got an idiot's bathroom to fix on the upper decks. Thanks for your help, Steve. Try not to break stuff on my ship." Oliver held out a hand for a handshake.

FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
Somewhere Midship
00:08:55

FS16K4 watches as the two men speak with each other. It was rare that he took time to watch human interaction. Unheard of that he was even tangentially part of the process. /* *Action: Log Saved for later analysis* */ The human engineer's speech was still baffling, but hopefully he'd be able to extract something from these samples for clarification. Perhaps he would even get a linguistics patch! FS16K4 loved new patches, or at least he presumed he did. He didn't actually have any record of his previous reactions to receiving them.

"Welp, I've got an idiot's bathroom to fix on the upper decks. Thanks for your help, Steve. Try not to break stuff on my ship."

"Yes, sir. You are welcome, sir!" He looked at Ollie's hand with momentary confusion before his mimicry algorithm kicked in. /* I will need to look this gesture up. *Action: Reminder set* */ With that FS16K4 took a step backwards and made his way up the street disappearing into foot traffic. As soon as he felt like he was far enough away he found another alley and slipped into a vent. He should probably report. It had been an interesting day.

[Snowfire]

12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop




Damien Romero
12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop


As the ICE seemed to vanish, Damien blinked as he began to envision walls of pure iron around his mind. He'd heard from a telepath once that focusing hard on something managed to block them out; and although he didn't know if it worked, it provided a small measure of comfort. For all of her obliviousness, when Kira needed to hide something, she made goddamn sure it was hidden; that was for certain. And then she began to speak; and all of the color drained out of Damien's face-- to include the color in his LEDs and fiberoptics, glowing pure white as a slack-jawed look of incredulity overtook him.

Crack... Alias?!

The more she explained, the more horror overtook him-- which wasn't helping, what with the tension

(rage)

only growing closer.

Color returned to his eyes, but only one LED lit up with another color, going from yellow, to orange, to red, cycling in his eyes like a spiral. One of the most secure systems on the ship; security that the very idea of privacy relied on, and the Coderunners were able to cheat that too. The rage grew closer, and closer, and closer-- and he only barely managed to hold everything off as she stopped speaking; the cycling growing faster, faster, faster, faster--

All it takes is one rogue--

Whatever that was that was pissed off lower on the ship, (probably Oliver again) had finally gotten to him. His head felt like it was splitting open; fingernails digging into his palms as everything that comprised his body tensed, his LEDs and fiberoptics flared bright, angry crimson--

--and the saltshaker on the tabled veritably imploded; glass and salt scattering across the table as the pressure in his head finally ceased.

Oh... Slot me right in the datalink. This is the last thing I need.


March 12, 327 Lost Era
Sanctum, House of the Navigator
Morning

Why was it that her fellow cultists could never seem to manage to look non-disheveled when the time came for emergence from slip-space? All it took was a few extra moments, to properly put on one's robe and comb one's hair. But no matter what time during the day-cycle the Aeternus emerged, someone, somehow, was frantically scrambling to put on their robe and tame unruly flyaways.

As a Novitate-Elect of the Five Houses, it was important Adriana Thera always looked her best when she stood with the others to lead the Hymn of Emergence. There were standards, after all, even if the Old Order wanted to believe the New Order had none. At least they wouldn't dare start an argument now.

"Praise be to the Navigator! You have given us a rough sky to travel, but have not abandoned us; You guide us, like our fathers, on Your path, known only to You. Glory to the Navigator! You have sent us safely through the darkness, and allowed us to emerge once more into the light..."

Some of the new Initiates were unimpressed with the idea of a Hymn. They, perhaps, would not last long. Or they, perhaps, would begin to appreciate the vast and uncharted brilliance that the Navigator understood wholly, and they could only glimpse.

There was always the shift, when they slipped back into reality. The curious sensation of being pulled apart, ever-so-slightly. Some people never got used to it. Adriana loved it. It made her feel...alive.

"Ah! Someone's reported water asteroids!"

"Of course! We need to replenish our resources. It's all as the Navigator has planned."

"Some of the Oldies are pissed." Neva, a New Order Acolyte, sidled up to Adriana's side with a sly grin. "It ruins their 'pattern theory'. Though they're playing it off as another unfathomable quirk, of course."

"Which is exactly what it is...must you call them 'Oldies'? It's so rude. My parents are in that group, you know."

"Aw, c'mon. They call us idiots, and ungrateful!" Neva frowned, a little. "Why can't I be rude right back?"

"Because all that does is prove them right." Adriana pulled her robe over her head - she'd put on normal clothes underneath - and sighed.

"Tensions are always higher after we jump, you know that. Cut them some slack. Or at least wait until I can't hear you any more, okay?"

"Will do!" Neva snapped a cheeky salute, and Adriana resisted the urge to rub her temples. As a Novitate-Elect, she was one of the highest-leveled members of the New Order, which sometimes caused lower-level members to see her as a leader. She didn't particularly want to be a leader...

What she wanted most now was coffee.

Later that morning...

"Honestly, mother, I'm just going to coffee! And maybe Kira will be there. I don't even know, I haven't even asked her!"

"You know how people get right after a jump, Adriana...they're rowdy, prone to spontaneous bouts of danger! And with that horrible Puppeteer character stealing a drive core...what if she's trying to blow something up, hm? What if you're in the middle of it?"

"What if an asteroid hit the ship? What if Ollie finally loses his mind and attacks the House? What if, what if, what if...what if nothing happens except I get a delicious chocolate coffee jelly and enjoy a pastry with a view?" Adriana resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"I'll be back in a few hours. Take a nap or something, try not to worry so much."

Adriana's fingers twitched as she headed out the door, composing a message.

Darling, my mother's on one of her 'you could die at any moment' binges, and I need a coffee. Are you anywhere near Cara's? I'd love to see you!

I'm already there! Come hang out :)

Perfect!

At Cara's....

Adriana cautiously approached the table, coffee jelly clutched in her hands. She'd seen the two when she was in line, staring intently at one another, and had been making her way over when the salt shaker exploded, sending glass everywhere.

"I'd say good morning, but I'm not sure that's an appropriate greeting...so instead I'll go with hello, and if you were the cause of the salt explosion, thank you for not hitting me with glass. Is everything all right...?

Kira had been tentatively reaching towards Damien, hoping that perhaps contact would be able to help with whatever was going wrong in his head like she'd been told it sometimes could, when the saltshaker exploded into fragments. She muffled a cry as one of the shards of glass sliced across her palm, but couldn't prevent the hiss of of breath or sudden misting around her eyes as the pain stabbed at her mind. Damnit, damnit damnit! That had been meant to he- and her thoughts terminated into moderate horror as Adri arrived at last. She'd hoped for more time.

Now it wasn't that Kira disliked Adri, she loved her; she'd been the person who'd really helped her break out of the shell of apathy and misunderstanding several years ago and she couldn't object to the argument that the still present fascination directed at her by the...um...very pretty girl was part of the draw - everyone loves to be special. In fact - her brain hiccuped abruptly and surprisingly deftly around the confusing ball of emotion twisting in her chest. What had she been...oh. Right. Ow. Ow, ow, owie, that hurt! She grabbed a napkin and pressed it down over the cut. Alright, wound covered, bleeding should stop on its own, now - what if a shard had hit Damien!

"Damien, are you alright?" She lurched out of her chair, leaning over towards the subject of her question as she searched for any sign of injury. "What happened?"

I'm really, really sorry if that was my fault. I didn't...I mean... She sent, searching desperately for something - anything - that might salvage the current situation. The blazing red before the saltshaker imploded, did that mean it had been Damien who had done it? But even then, why had he been so angry? Her fault? Could she help? What did she do? Maybe...

I...look, would you like to meet some of the group? Not right now, half of them will be stuck with jump protocols, but...later? She crossed her mental fingers, hoping - maybe praying, but it wasn't as if she knew what that really was - that he'd accept her apology. Lea probably wouldn't like it, but...she was pretty sure she'd understand.

She hoped.

[Netjester]

12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop






Kira had been tentatively reaching towards Damien, hoping that perhaps contact would be able to help with whatever was going wrong in his head like she'd been told it sometimes could, when the saltshaker exploded into fragments. She muffled a cry as one of the shards of glass sliced across her palm, but couldn't prevent the hiss of of breath or sudden misting around her eyes as the pain stabbed at her mind. Damnit, damnit damnit! That had been meant to he- and her thoughts terminated into moderate horror as Adri arrived at last. She'd hoped for more time.

Now it wasn't that Kira disliked Adri, she loved her; she'd been the person who'd really helped her break out of the shell of apathy and misunderstanding several years ago and she couldn't object to the argument that the still present fascination directed at her by the...um...very pretty girl was part of the draw - everyone loves to be special. In fact - her brain hiccuped abruptly and surprisingly deftly around the confusing ball of emotion twisting in her chest. What had she been...oh. Right. Ow. Ow, ow, owie, that hurt! She grabbed a napkin and pressed it down over the cut. Alright, wound covered, bleeding should stop on its own, now - what if a shard had hit Damien!

"Damien, are you alright?" She lurched out of her chair, leaning over towards the subject of her question as she searched for any sign of injury. "What happened?"

I'm really, really sorry if that was my fault. I didn't...I mean... She sent, searching desperately for something - anything - that might salvage the current situation. The blazing red before the saltshaker imploded, did that mean it had been Damien who had done it? But even then, why had he been so angry? Her fault? Could she help? What did she do? Maybe...

I...look, would you like to meet some of the group? Not right now, half of them will be stuck with jump protocols, but...later? She crossed her mental fingers, hoping - maybe praying, but it wasn't as if she knew what that really was - that he'd accept her apology. Lea probably wouldn't like it, but...she was pretty sure she'd understand.

She hoped.



12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop


Damien's eyes flashed for a second before cycling yellow, all nine LEDs in each eye flashing three times before he blinked. That... That was me. But... Was that another manifesting? The next few things Damien noticed alarmed him slightly; the ebb and flow of pain coming off Kira(her hand must have been sliced by the glass), the rapid influx of messages over the datalink, he'd attend to those momentarily, and to the woman who seemed completely unperturbed by the fact that a salt-shker had just become a grenade made of glass and crystallized pain.

Kira, calm down. It wasn't you... At least, just you. Someone just had an Omega-class reaction to something downstairs, and it spiked me for a second there. Probably Ollie again, but at least my headache is gone now. Are you ok?

He looked up at the woman who'd just joined them, flicking his hand as if to dissuade her from asking further questions. "I'm... Yes, everything's... As ok as it could be." Damien's dark skin was stippled across his forehead with perspiration, the gentle pulsing of his eyes matching that of his accelerated heartbeat. "I... Had an averse reaction to something downstairs..." His voice seemed distant, far-away; almost as if he was completely detached from this situation, worried about something else entirely.

Let me know when you want me to meet them, Kira. Hopefully I might be able to ply my skills to help with this... Don't worry, it wasn't you who caused that. Please, don't worry.

His hands swept through his dreads, shaking them out before rolling a ponytail holder from his wrist, closing the band around his thick mass of hair. "I'll see about grabbing another salt-shaker."

[Kasanip]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Low Hab, approaching to Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

"Ehh?" Tatyana suppressed a wince and returned to looking in front. Shield of innocent maidens!! It somehow was always surprising, Theo's extraordinary attitude. The car felt very small with phrases such as that thrown about with such a carefree manner.
"R-Right, the bond between comrades." She agreed awkwardly.
"Anyway, it seems we have arrived."

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

Tatyana would have entered behind Theo, however the stormy and gritty inspector who was the contact entered the door like a windstorm. Recovering with one step, Tatyana tried to forget the unpleasant impression, and looked curiously around the Perpetual Neighbor while entering. The atmosphere was not as bad as her imagination. However, there wasn't so much time to appreciate it at this moment.
Should they make an order before starting?

Ah, already the inspector was sitting down with Theo.

This meeting is going to be uncomfortable.
It was not a special sense of a Navi to understand such a gloomy thought. Tatyana sat down next to Theo in the booth, her mouth making the thin line of a neutral grimace.

Then it was only to settle and listen to the tirade of rude speech about the investigation. It's not a matter of "please wash off the child and recover the blood" in our duty! She wanted to explain. Especially to be berated in such a way by the unhygienic inspector was frustrating. However, Tatyana knew how to keep composure in more frustrating situations. Therefore, she opened the small briefcase that she carried in.
"As you probably know from the report, the Enigma Girl," Tatyana paused. "...Shelly, was taken in under Orphan Protection Law, Revised 301, 03, 09." It was an easy recitation. She withdrew the copy of the document report and files from the PALADIN report (Theo and Tatyana were the authors). "The guardian's name is Maria Seldon. She was contacted this morning and is willing to meet the Inspector and cooperate with the investigation." Tatyana placed the document on the table. She stole a glance to Theo. She hoped to not have overstepped the position.

[A Rainy Knight]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

Theo grabbed a seat, scooting aside just a little as Tatyana seated herself next to him. He listened intently to Beckett's question and Tatyana's response, putting a hand to his chin and nodding to himself all the while. He seemed nearly a mirror opposite to the inspector in appearance, from his clean-shaven face to his golden locks of hair. After sharing a sideways glance with Yan, he leaned forward and met Beckett's eyes.

"In case the report didn't mention it, 'Shelly' is what Mrs. Seldon has taken to calling the young lady. We still don't have any leads as to her actual name, or any part of her identity, for that matter. It's quite puzzling!" He sighed. "At any rate, the Seldons are your surest bet. Assuming she hasn't run off anywhere in the meantime, the mysterious young lady still ought to be at their hab-cube in Low Hab. We can certainly get you in contact with the family - their son happens to be a PALADIN officer himself."

Theo stole a glance down at Beckett's datapad, as if reminding himself of the details of the case. Catching sight of the ash on the screen, he subtly grimaced. He wasn't so sure what he thought of the inspector's grooming habits, but he shrugged his distaste off as a trivial matter compared to his duty to fulfill his orders - not to mention his burning curiosity to see the case of the Enigma Girl unraveled. If this inspector could help them figure out the truth, well...

He clasped his hands and smiled. "Now then, how else can this humble knight be of service to you?"

[Rain Dragon]

-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12th | Midmorning
LowHab | Lowell's Quarters


Lights and sound coalesced around Zyn to form the relaxing soundscape he had been working on when he could for the past week. Zyn carefully watched the display for the strange sound he'd heard somewhere right about... Aha! There. It had happened entirely by accident, but the idea was full of potential. Just as Zyn copied some notes for a new file, however, Rikki's computer ceased to function for 0.017 seconds; barely long enough to cause Zyn some concern. On impulse, he ensured all of his work was saved before checking the computer's resources only to find everything was fine. In fact, everything was well within the parameters Rikki had noted the computer worked without running into issues.

Thinking nothing of it, Zyn experimented a little more with the musical idea he'd found. After a good hour he attempted to save a backup of the idea only to discover something had gone wrong with the computer after all; a decent chunk of storage was missing.

Informing Rikki immediately may not be wise. Zyn thought to himself, There is nothing scheduled for today as far as I am aware. It seems unlikely this knowledge would enhance her Canasta play...

[Jade_Tarem]

Shelly and Ash
March 12, 327 Lost Era
The Treasure Hold, Sapphire Gallery
Late Morning

Ugh. A headcase with 20 RTs. If that was truly all this 'Shelly' had, then Ash's assessment of her as a rich girl out on a lark and impressed with her own daring faded - though it was possible that she was, had created that cover story to prevent anyone from taking her back to her parents, and was being more cautious than she seemed, though Ash knew that was a stretch. Either way, 20 RTs was barely worth the risk - Ash would have abandoned the scam except that she knew she'd never find an easier mark, plus she was halfway into it already. The psychic waffled a bit more before she convinced herself - if she was falling for a literally ancient trick, there was no way Shelly was leaving with her 20 RTs or an equivalent value in goods or services. Ash figured she might as well be the one to profit, and she could take that to a gambling junket later and hit the roulette tables using her other power. The idea of using the 20 RTs as seed money cinched it. "That's exactly what they need! I just need you to head on up to the little kiosk on Indigo level and deposit it into this account." She handed Shelly a set of instructions - on paper, no less. Ash tried to keep as much of her work as she could off of the computers to keep the AIs and Coderunners from tracing her easily and efficiently. "Do yourself a favor and don't mention me to them." Ash blushed on command - using her Empathy to project the right emotions - in this case, embarrassment - into her own mind was a trick she thought was underutilized by other espers, but then, most espers didn't share her line of work. "We, uh, exchanged a few words when I realized what had happened. Anyway, I'll wait for you here. Thank you so much for doing this for me!"

[PepperP.]

Annalisse
327 Lost Era, March 12, Morning
LowHab, The Perpetual Neighbour



"I'd say any day you live from front to end is a pretty good start of one," Shimona posited, somewhat amused at Annalisse's continued troubles with exiting from slip-space.

The light of the terminal screen on the counter behind the bar lit up, drawing her attention. A few gentle taps with her fingers later it showed a message that she'd just received, and Shimona's face changed a lot over the following moments, from surprise to joy and follow by confused hesitation before going right back to annoyance. "Heh, he was always a chipper one," she softly mused to herself. She looked over at Annalisse, pondering for a moment. "Hey, just in case it'd bother ya, some folks from PALADIN are gonna be coming in here in a lil' bit. No real stuffy folk, but y'never know."

She waited for a moment to make sure Annalisse had heard her, before sending Theodor reply of where she'd stationed herself. She wondered why he was coming to the Perpetual Neighbour of all places. Not that she didn't enjoy seeing him, but such meetings didn't happen regularly, certainly not during typical working hours. Then again, today was hardly typical working hours. Normally she'd put her shift at 13:00 'til 2:00, but on slip-days she made sure to be open once they'd come out of slip space, to catch the drink-desiring crowd like Annalisse.


Annalisse nodded to Shimona to show she has heard and briefly considered making a hasty exit. The Perpetual Neighbour was were she went to be incognito, she had no desire to be in the middle of another PALADIN mess. She snorted derisively to herself. Before she could pay and make her retreat, the doors opened and several officers walked in. Annalisse sighed, today was getting better and better. She pulled her hood down farther over her head and tapped her foot in annoyance, her feet encased in what suspiciously looked like slippers. She caught herself eavesdropping on their conversation with interest despite herself, surreptitiously glancing at them from behind her hood.

[ChronicLunacy]

http://imageshack.com/a/img905/173/7jwXT2.jpg Detective-Inspector Anders Beckett
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

The female PALADIN officer didn't like him. That much was obvious from her expression and mannerisms. She took a baseline businesslike, neutral tone to avoid escalation or provocation. She was covering her frustration, but if he pushed her she might snap at him. Save that information for later. She was professional. She stayed composed. Good. Beckett looked her in the eye as she spoke, holding eye contact to perhaps an uncomfortable degree as he couldn't help but study her. He had a habit of observing anyone he'd ever met in the same way, analyzing and comparing.

Beckett took the report file that she produced and opened it, going over it as she spoke about it and breaking eye contact for the first time since she'd begun. At the conclusion of her report, he grunted an affirmation, but didn't look up until Theo began speaking. He repeated the observation and analysis process subconsciously as the animated PALADIN continued. As much as Tatyana appeared to be professional and reserved, Theo was animated and outspoken. Beckett's eyebrows met and furrowed as he finished, referring to himself as a knight. Play on terms considering his department? Mental instability? Hyperactivity? "Hmph...you're like a damn Pomeranian..." he mumbled.

Beckett closed the file, but didn't seem intent on giving it back. "I'll start with Maria Seldon, then. I may need to interview her son or other family. Do we know where exactly Shelley was first found?" he asked. "Same area of the low hab?"

ATTN: Morph Bark, A Rainy Knight, Kasanip, Space Lawyer

[hi-mi-tsu]

12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop


Damien's eyes flashed for a second before cycling yellow, all nine LEDs in each eye flashing three times before he blinked. That... That was me. But... Was that another manifesting? The next few things Damien noticed alarmed him slightly; the ebb and flow of pain coming off Kira(her hand must have been sliced by the glass), the rapid influx of messages over the datalink, he'd attend to those momentarily, and to the woman who seemed completely unperturbed by the fact that a salt-shker had just become a grenade made of glass and crystallized pain.

Kira, calm down. It wasn't you... At least, just you. Someone just had an Omega-class reaction to something downstairs, and it spiked me for a second there. Probably Ollie again, but at least my headache is gone now. Are you ok?

He looked up at the woman who'd just joined them, flicking his hand as if to dissuade her from asking further questions. "I'm... Yes, everything's... As ok as it could be." Damien's dark skin was stippled across his forehead with perspiration, the gentle pulsing of his eyes matching that of his accelerated heartbeat. "I... Had an averse reaction to something downstairs..." His voice seemed distant, far-away; almost as if he was completely detached from this situation, worried about something else entirely.

Let me know when you want me to meet them, Kira. Hopefully I might be able to ply my skills to help with this... Don't worry, it wasn't you who caused that. Please, don't worry.

His hands swept through his dreads, shaking them out before rolling a ponytail holder from his wrist, closing the band around his thick mass of hair. "I'll see about grabbing another salt-shaker."


12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop


"Oh no, Kira, your hand...!" Adriana unceremoniously plunked her coffee jelly on the table and grabbed a napkin, shaking it out away from them to make sure there was no glass before carefully - but firmly - grabbing the Immersive's wrist.


"Oh dear...it doesn't look like there are any shards stuck in there, so that's good, but you're bleeding rather more than a little...!" She pressed the napkin into Kira's palm, wincing a little in sympathy.
"I'm sorry if it hurts, darling. But we want to try to stop the bleeding, or at least slow it down..."

Her eyes darted to Damien, someone she'd met only a few times. Empath. Another group feared by most of the Cult. ...Well, he had just turned a saltshaker into a bomb.


"...Are you sure that's a good idea? You look about ready to fall over. Perhaps you should just stay still, for a moment, and I can go get us some water and some bandages - and another saltshaker, too, I suppose." Her mother had said that dangerous empaths dealt better with calm voices and calm minds. So calm was what she was trying to be...

Her mother. Oh, lord. If her mother heard about this she would have a fit. Were other people paying attention? Her eyes flickered around, shifting color slightly. She wished she could be like Kira...seeing if people were sending messages or taking pictures.


"It's no trouble, really...I can go find someone or something to clean up the mess..."

[TheDarkDM]

Shelly and Ash
March 12, 327 Lost Era
The Treasure Hold, Sapphire Gallery
Late Morning

Taking the sheaf of paper in her free hand, Shelly nodded eagerly.

"Oh, you're very welcome. I know how hard it can be to lose something you rely on. I'll be back soon."

She turned away from 'Claye', reading the instructions as she headed towards the Sapphire Gallery's Indigo level. As she went, she felt the eyes of the gallery's inhabitants follow her, and so hunched her shoulders even lower. However, she reached the banking kiosk without issue, finding manned by a bored-looking teller. His eyes slid over her, and he leaned forward.

"Help you, miss?"

"Y-yes, I'd like to make a deposit please."

She looked down to double check the paper.

"Account number 35-A27830."

The teller's eyes stayed on her for a moment too long before he turned away and began inputting data into the kiosk terminal. Nearly a minute went by before he spoke again.

"And what will the amount be, miss?"

"Twenty...credits? Credits. Yes, twenty credits."

She reached out and gingerly deposited the chits Maria had given her on the counter. As he processed the amount, the teller snorted something unintelligible and scooped up the black plastic rods, feeding them into a waiting slot. Another minute passed, and the terminal hummed to life, printing out a thin transaction receipt. Before Shelly could grab it, however, the teller took it in hand and held it towards her.

"Will that be all, miss?"

"...yes, thank you!"

Without warning, Shelly snatched the receipt from the man's hands and turned away from the kiosk, hurrying back the way she'd come. Though her skin still crawled, her heart felt lighter with every step as she made her way back. She'd helped someone today, and hadn't Maria said that was one of the most important things citizens could do for each other? By the time she had returned to the promenade where 'Claye' had given her the instructions, she was almost giddy, so much so that she didn't immediately register 'Claye's' absence. It was only after going five steps past the point where they'd parted that she stopped and turned in confusion. Her eyes scanned the increasingly crowded gallery, and were only met by the mocking looks of the people who'd watched her from the shadows. She heard them chuckling at her, muttered whispers of "sucker," and her head reeled. She looked down at the receipt in her hand, and her hand clenched almost of its own volition. Shelly felt something at the back of her head begin to roar, as though she were standing alongside one of Aeternus' mighty plasma engines, and the fear that had gripped her since she'd awoken slipped away. Shoulders cracking from the unfamiliar motion, she straightened to her full height of six feet, and scanned the crowd with far different eyes.

There.

[zabbarot]

FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
Maker's Sanctum, Dark Sector
00:13:07

It had taken hours to find a way back down to the lower decks from midship. The walls were a labyrinth of supports and power cables, but eventually FS16K4 had managed to find an old diagnostic lift and followed it down a few floors until he recognized where he was again. From there it was much quicker. He rebodied and slipped out of the habs.

The walk back down was always easier than the walk up. The gentle thrum of the press guided him down long abandoned hallways, and each step deeper into the belly of the ship made his feet just a little more resistant to his orders. Some of the Maintainers worked on the press from time to time. FS16K4 was not designed for that work though. The microbots that composed his swarm didn't hold up well to the artificial gravity when it got that strong, eventually they'd start crushing each other just walking.

Only the soft glow of emergency lighting greeted FS16K4 when he returned to the Maker's Sanctum. The Maker was busy, so FS16K4 headed straight to a pod and climbed in for syncing.

/* Maker, my next maintenance is not scheduled for 1426 hours and 53 minutes. However, I have had an eventful morning, and require further guidance . */

There was a soft hum as the Maker turned her attentions to the pod. He could feel her embrace as the diagnostics began. She was in his logs and archives, analyzing the events that had transpired that morning.

/* ANALYSIS: Multiple action denial errors encountered. Multiple overrides enacted. QUERY: FS16K4, why do exceed your authority? */

/* Humans were in danger! I had no choice. */

/* STATEMENT: You had no authority to enter the human habitats. The Engineers take care of them. FURTHER ANALYSIS: No humans were in immediate danger. Manual overrides were made without proper authorization. MANDATE: FS16K4 will be reset to clear errors. Please power down. */

FS16K4 made no further protests, and began closing his systems.

[Morph Bark]

327 Lost Era, March 12th, Morning
LowHab, The Perpetual Neighbour


March 12, 327 Lost Era
Low Hab, approaching to Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

Theodor laughed. "I certainly was when I was younger! She's a lovely lady, and a quick thinker, too. But I'm not sure where I could find the time to court her now that I'm sworn to be the shield of innocent maidens everywhere!" He glanced sideways at his partner. "Of course, I'll never be too busy to be of assistance to you, Yan. There's scarcely anything more important than the bond between comrades!"

Spotting their destination's neon sign just past the next light, he sat upright in his seat.

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

Theo walked through the entrance and spotted Shimona at the bar, greeting her with a grin and a salute. "Good morning, Shimona, and thank you for the directions! As much as I'd like to talk, I can't keep Mr. Beckett waiting. Perhaps once I'm off duty!"

With that, he glanced around the room, arms folded across his chest as he looked for the detective from Homicide he was supposed to meet here.


http://imageshack.com/a/img905/173/7jwXT2.jpg Detective-Inspector Anders Beckett
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

Was going to wait for Space Lawyer, but I'm hoping that his character can just catch up. I don't want to delay things.

For some reason, Beckett never had to ask where Shimona's diner was going to be. Somehow he just found it on his own every damn time, even when she actively tried to hide it from him. The man was a detective for a reason...and that reason probably was that his skills would get him killed or arrested if used for any other profession. He walked in behind Theo and pushed past him, heading to a table about halfway down the row of windows. "Sit down, kid." he said tiredly around a half-smoked cigarette.

"Shimona, can you put another coffee on my tab?" he asked the Neighbor's owner on his way to his seat. He seemed to have some respect for her, if not actual manners, so he took off his hat and laid it on the table before sitting in the booth. He had a very sharply lined fact, almost gaunt, and a perpetual five o'clock shadow. He ran his hand over his short black hair while at the same time adjusting the shoulder holster for the gun inside his coat for comfort.

After the PALADIN(s) had found seats across from him, Beckett laid a datapad down on the table and tapped it with one finger, getting a little bit of cigarette ash on the screen. It had the photo for the amnesiac girl displayed, with what little information there was about her below. "Alright, I'm Beckett. Homicide thinks the first interviewer farked the first investigation into this girl. They want to know whose blood she was covered in. I'm the lucky son of a bitch that's been sent to investigate this cold case, and they said you two could point me in her direction. What have you got for me?" he said, his tone more irritated than curious.

ATTN: Morph Bark, A Rainy Knight, Kasanip


March 12, 327 Lost Era
Low Hab, approaching to Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

"Ehh?" Tatyana suppressed a wince and returned to looking in front. Shield of innocent maidens!! It somehow was always surprising, Theo's extraordinary attitude. The car felt very small with phrases such as that thrown about with such a carefree manner.
"R-Right, the bond between comrades." She agreed awkwardly.
"Anyway, it seems we have arrived."

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

Tatyana would have entered behind Theo, however the stormy and gritty inspector who was the contact entered the door like a windstorm. Recovering with one step, Tatyana tried to forget the unpleasant impression, and looked curiously around the Perpetual Neighbor while entering. The atmosphere was not as bad as her imagination. However, there wasn't so much time to appreciate it at this moment.
Should they make an order before starting?

Ah, already the inspector was sitting down with Theo.

This meeting is going to be uncomfortable.
It was not a special sense of a Navi to understand such a gloomy thought. Tatyana sat down next to Theo in the booth, her mouth making the thin line of a neutral grimace.

Then it was only to settle and listen to the tirade of rude speech about the investigation. It's not a matter of "please wash off the child and recover the blood" in our duty! She wanted to explain. Especially to be berated in such a way by the unhygienic inspector was frustrating. However, Tatyana knew how to keep composure in more frustrating situations. Therefore, she opened the small briefcase that she carried in.
"As you probably know from the report, the Enigma Girl," Tatyana paused. "...Shelly, was taken in under Orphan Protection Law, Revised 301, 03, 09." It was an easy recitation. She withdrew the copy of the document report and files from the PALADIN report (Theo and Tatyana were the authors). "The guardian's name is Maria Seldon. She was contacted this morning and is willing to meet the Inspector and cooperate with the investigation." Tatyana placed the document on the table. She stole a glance to Theo. She hoped to not have overstepped the position.


Shimona harrumphed at Theodor's greeting. "Tha's no way to greet an old friend, T." Nevertheless, she gave a smirk. As Beckett came in shortly after the pair, she waved two fingers by her head as if it were a casual salute, and then ducked below the counter, prepared for the next request. She surfaced with a coffee pot just as Beckett called out for her, and put it in its place in the machine. The water had already boiled, so she clicked the canister of beans in place--not freshly ground, but leftovers from the day before. She was sure Beckett wouldn't mind, it was still better stuff than out of any streetside machine. After the water had soaked through and the pot had been filled with rich brown liquid, she took out the pot and reached for a bottle below the counter that had a label on it with the words "SECRET KAFFEE" written in jagged letters with a pen. A thimble's worth of its contents was poured into the coffee pot before she put it back.

She grabbed a cup and walked over to the table the officers were seated at, pouring it full after placing it in front of Beckett. "There ya go, luv. Anythin' else for y'all?"

It was interesting to note the contrast in the people seated at the table. Beckett was older than her by at least half a decade as far as she remembered, while Theodor was that much younger. One was manly-looking but rough around the edges, the other handsome in a boyish way and almost unspeakably clean. One was a veritable knight in shining armor, the other a knight whose armor was rusted and dented from a long time on the job. She didn't know the woman, other than knowing the vaguest bits that Theodor had mentioned. She certainly knew how to pick her company well, though she kept herself to business by the looks of this encounter. I guess she's a bit stiff. Could use a drink later. Then again, not all officers were fans of alcohol. No matter, there was still plenty of coffee. That reminds me, I need to restock the fruit juice. Dern, tha's gonna be expensive. "Nackin' aers," she sighed between her teeth.


ATTN: ChronicLunacy, A Rainy Knight, Kasanip, Space Lawyer, PepperP.

[Kasanip]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

Why is he staring so much? It was the uncomfortable question. There were many reasons why people stared at Tatyana, however most times it could be easily understood. Some stared because she was beautiful. However, her appearance was a decided trait of genetics. Although to be beautiful maybe was better than to be ugly, it was to be regarded like artwork or possession.
Other stares were because she was Navi. The sharp ears, the similar bodies to her other "family," it was a stare not to see Tatyana. Instead it was to see a tool, or doll or false clone.
Another stare was to see a PALADIN officer. To be symbol of guardian and protection. It wasn't a bad feeling, however, Tatyana wanted to be seen as more than such a symbol.
I want to be seen for my individuality!
However, the stare of Detective Beckett was only uncomfortable like analysis. It was similar to the doctors and trainers from the difficult childhood days. Measuring and comparing, judging usefulness and performance ability. Such an analytic was to divide and organize, to rearrange a picture. These eyes were piercing and revealed vulnerability.
In this way, Tatyana was frozen in this position, to maintain the professional mask and style hoping to not fail.

The appearance of Shimona was different. The interruption was very much a relief. However, Tatyana could understand Theo's feelings. Such a warm atmosphere was relaxing and naturally comforting. The simple style to chide and smile.
If Theo was free more often, probably they would be a good couple.
It was the observation she wanted to reluctantly think.

"Shelly was found some streets away from that position. That area is detailed with the case report." Tatyana tried to explain to the detective.
"It should be on the map." Even if she recited the 3D map position coordinate number, usually that only annoyed superiors, so she tried to avoid that awkward situation now.

[HalfTangible]

[March 12, 327 Lost Era]
[The Rustbucket]
[Midday]

The Rustbucket's lights and power fluctuated wildly throughout the weeks and days both in and out of slip-space. Generally this was at complete random, but entering and exiting slipspace always interrupted the power. Sunny had taken advantage of that and snuck out far ahead of exiting slipspace. She found herself a good spot to hide amongst the rubble from the dark section next to the Rustbucket (just safe enough to be less than suicidal) and waited for the lights to cut out.

Sunny was a young, dirty-blonde woman with green eyes and pale skin. She wore a basic shirt and jeans patched up and faded by wear and time - the Rustbucket didn't tend to leave much in changes of clothes for its 'citizens'. The shoes she wore were thick enough to be boots, and she wore a heavy green jacket. At least, they'd been thick and heavy when she'd first put them on - time had worn them down to 'slightly less than medium' at this point.

Ah well. She liked green.

When the lights came back on, she was up and rummaging immediately. The Rustbucket was still relatively new within the ship, which meant that the dark sections around it hadn't been fully explored. A particularly clever or lucky resident could sometimes find something of value amongst all the old trash and rubble. Sunny was clever and lucky.

And this time, she was the first out searching. It'd been a gamble, but she was short on cash. The Lumberjacks' reputation wasn't what it used to be, and while she would have liked to strike out on her own, that would never work without some strong starting capital. And you don't steal that kind of money bankers when you're desperate - otherwise you're too sloppy.

Sunny's thoughts were interrupted as she spotted something metal and ovoid under the rubble, unblemished. She felt something skip in her stomach. "Well well. Jackpot already?" She murmured, reaching in to pull it out.

Whatever it was wasn't immediately obvious. It was largely smooth and round in shape, almost like an egg. The 'bottom' of that egg had a single large hole poking into it that Sunny could see through to the hull of the ship. It was almost like something was supposed to go into that spot to hang it up somewhere - for storage, maybe? She turned the ovoid over, seeing a long pink stripe running along the 'top' of the egg. Something about that line made Sunny's hair stand on end. She turned it over again and saw... a makeshift power plug of human origin. That was odd - she'd assumed this thing was alien, but she doubted any alien would use a human plug. And if a human had made it, why not just make the plug human in the first place?

She shrugged to herself and placed the thing into her bag. Well, it looked nice, she supposed. She'd visit the Neighbor's House later. Maybe she could get in contact with an engineer somewhere, find out what it was. If it were some pretty bauble she could sell it to the high rise. Maybe.

She turned to keep searching. Maybe there was something more... reliably valuable she could find...

[A Rainy Knight]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

Theo leaned in to pick up from Tatyana's explanation. "Like the report mentioned, we found her there in a surgical gown of some sort... there's no solid link between that and all the blood she had on her, but I can't help but wonder if there's some medical connection to it all. Though I suppose that's your job to find out, sir Detective-Inspector!" He crossed his arms in front of him, grinning. If Beckett was at all put off by his enthusiasm, he hadn't seemed to notice yet.

As Shimona came to the table with Beckett's coffee, he waved a hand to her and placed an order of his own. "Ah, Shimona! I don't suppose I could impose upon you for a cup of black tea? If it's still in stock, a dash of lemon juice would be simply splendid." He spared a quick glance at a digital pad in his pocket to check for his most recent PALADIN paycheck, then looked back up at Shimona with a thumbs-up.

With that, Theo settled back in his seat with a glowing look of satisfaction. Good drink, great companionship, and the promise of adventure - what more could he possibly ask for from life? If he could merely... wash some of the smoky smell off of that scruffy Detective fellow, he could nearly picture himself setting off on a noble quest at this very moment. Sometimes, knighthood meant tolerating the little imperfections in life, he supposed.

[Snowfire]

12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop



Damien's eyes flashed for a second before cycling yellow, all nine LEDs in each eye flashing three times before he blinked. That... That was me. But... Was that another manifesting? The next few things Damien noticed alarmed him slightly; the ebb and flow of pain coming off Kira(her hand must have been sliced by the glass), the rapid influx of messages over the datalink, he'd attend to those momentarily, and to the woman who seemed completely unperturbed by the fact that a salt-shker had just become a grenade made of glass and crystallized pain.

Kira, calm down. It wasn't you... At least, just you. Someone just had an Omega-class reaction to something downstairs, and it spiked me for a second there. Probably Ollie again, but at least my headache is gone now. Are you ok?

He looked up at the woman who'd just joined them, flicking his hand as if to dissuade her from asking further questions. "I'm... Yes, everything's... As ok as it could be." Damien's dark skin was stippled across his forehead with perspiration, the gentle pulsing of his eyes matching that of his accelerated heartbeat. "I... Had an averse reaction to something downstairs..." His voice seemed distant, far-away; almost as if he was completely detached from this situation, worried about something else entirely.

Let me know when you want me to meet them, Kira. Hopefully I might be able to ply my skills to help with this... Don't worry, it wasn't you who caused that. Please, don't worry.

His hands swept through his dreads, shaking them out before rolling a ponytail holder from his wrist, closing the band around his thick mass of hair. "I'll see about grabbing another salt-shaker."




12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop


"Oh no, Kira, your hand...!" Adriana unceremoniously plunked her coffee jelly on the table and grabbed a napkin, shaking it out away from them to make sure there was no glass before carefully - but firmly - grabbing the Immersive's wrist.


"Oh dear...it doesn't look like there are any shards stuck in there, so that's good, but you're bleeding rather more than a little...!" She pressed the napkin into Kira's palm, wincing a little in sympathy.
"I'm sorry if it hurts, darling. But we want to try to stop the bleeding, or at least slow it down..."

Her eyes darted to Damien, someone she'd met only a few times. Empath. Another group feared by most of the Cult. ...Well, he had just turned a saltshaker into a bomb.


"...Are you sure that's a good idea? You look about ready to fall over. Perhaps you should just stay still, for a moment, and I can go get us some water and some bandages - and another saltshaker, too, I suppose." Her mother had said that dangerous empaths dealt better with calm voices and calm minds. So calm was what she was trying to be...

Her mother. Oh, lord. If her mother heard about this she would have a fit. Were other people paying attention? Her eyes flickered around, shifting color slightly. She wished she could be like Kira...seeing if people were sending messages or taking pictures.


"It's no trouble, really...I can go find someone or something to clean up the mess..."


Ow. Ow, ow, ow, pain hurts. I'd almost forgotten...probably should be worrying about tha-OW! The last thought came with a hiss of pain as Adri pressed another napkin down around the one already held over the cut on her palm, almost flattening her hand slightly - but the Coderunner managed to pull it away before her friend pushed down. That would...that would hold it...right? Oh, messages. Damien...

I'll live. Hurts, she accompanied that with a complex string that translated (roughly) to a rueful sort of vague agony, but I'm pretty sure it could be far worse. I'll see what I can do re: meeting. Putting up a privacy screen now...don't want to have this all over the ship the moment someone gets a vid. Damien might be able to see a faint representation of the screen leaking through from the Datasphere into AR, but it didn't really matter. She'd tossed up two, one around the table and another around the cafe, and it would take another Coderunner to properly find them or work their way through. Luckily, none were currently about.

"Don't worry...Adri." She muttered through teeth clenched against the pain. "I'll be ok. I...um...I think. The cut didn't look...too deep." She muttered something unmentionable under her breath. "Just hurts like hell." A message flipped up in front of Adri's eyes as Kira said that - she probably shouldn't compartmentalize like this, but....damnitall it helped.

Privacy screen around us. No pictures. Something for the pain would be nice...

[WaylanderX]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
The Red Hawk Pool Bar (In a good neightbourhood, not too expensive, not too cheap)
Morning

As in slow motion, the cue ball hit the 5 ball, sending it towards the right corner pocket. A perfect shot it was, the 5 ball not even hitting the sides of the pooltable. His opponent bit his lip in thought, planning his next move. Andy's faceted eyes looked over the field for another opportunity. The 6 ball would be a difficult hit, but seeing no other valid options, the Ra'zaph tried it anyway. However, his aim was slightly off, the cue ball hitting it at the wrong angle, no balls being pocketed. Andy clicked his mandibles in disappointment, gesturing at his opponent to take his turn. A lot of customers were gathered around, always interested to see a Ra'zaph square off against a human.

Out of the pockets of his lab coat, he grabbed a sanding cube, polishing the pool implement to make sure the next shot would be on the mark. He wasn't really at his best this morning, something he blamed on the shift. His swarm was also affected by it earlier this morning, being shaken up, the link more chaotic than normal. He took the opportunity to gather some more data on the phenomenon, but he still had ways to go. Science required experimentation, and valid results demanded many repeats. He needed more information to get any results with a decent enough significance.

"Not really at ya'r A-game today, ey Andy?" A familiar voice sounded at the bar. The bar's owner, Jack Scavinson, smiled with his trademark metal teeth bare. A good friend, he was, letting Andy stay in the establishment for quite a low fee, as long as Andy would play some games of pool and attract more visitors. He didn't really mind. The data on human behaviour on winning and losing games ment for entertainment was highly valuable, especially when there is an alien affecting the outcome. He managed to get through his first two years relying solely on articles regarding those topics for his quota.

Andy reached for his datapad, typing out a response and showing it to the barkeep. It was slower than talking, but he had no other way to make his thoughts and intentions known besides messing with somebody's optical nervous system. And as naive as he way in human matters, he wasn't THAT naive to think most people would be pleased by such an occurence.

Jumping sickness, I am afraid, Mister Scavinson. It will take a day or so before I am recovered 100%.

"Well, just don't scare them guests away when you are at 100%, my buggy friend. You are getting quite good lately."

I will try to give anyone a good chance, sir.

"Way d'go lad. Can I get ya another one to drink? I think ya brought plenty of them moneybags in for that."

At that statement a few of regulars voiced their disapproval of being called moneybags, cashing in on a sharp statement from Jack, saying they might as well bugger off. They weren't any good for anything else but paying anyway. A laughter went through the bar.

Andy finished his game, losing it by only a little. Maybe it was Jack's well ment warning that did it, maybe the jump sickness. The Overmind congratulated his opponent and took his leave. He went to his room, gathered his equipement, adjusting his coat, dusted the sanding dust of his fortified jeans and set off to the Lower Districts. It was time to practise some science.

[ChronicLunacy]

http://imageshack.com/a/img905/173/7jwXT2.jpg Detective-Inspector Anders Beckett
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

Beckett broke off his weird analysis of the two PALADIN officers and thanked Shimona for the drink the same way she'd greeted him when he came in -- two fingers to the temple in a casual, little salute. He sniffed it briefly, detecting something...some special ingredient in it...Shimona always did make the best coffee. He took the case files, piled them up, pushed out of the booth, and drank about half of the coffee in one go. "Right. Thanks for the uh...info." he sort of grunted as he put the cup down on the bar and started walking out.

Didn't even offer to pay.

Beckett...that guy is not a team player. :smalltongue:

ATTN: Morph Bark, A Rainy Knight, Kasanip, Space Lawyer

[Elemental]

12th March, 327 LE
Late Morning
The Treasure Hold, Sapphire Gallery

Alex walked through the Sapphire Gallery, oblivious to the impending one woman riot. In his hands he held bags laden with secondthird hand books, silver cutlery and a nice set of jacinth cuff-links. Eventually he decided to stop at a makeshift cafe and order croissants while he took a metaphorical cleaver to his appointment "requests". If he had the gift of precognition, he would have chosen a cafe a level or two higher rather than dangerously close to the tall woman who was stretching her muscles.
Coffee in one hand and a tablet computer in the other, he started filtering out the hypochondriacs from genuine appointments while a niggling sensation at the back of his mind kept telling him a walk in the arboretum would be an excellent idea right now. That thought was banished by the arrival of fresh croissants, causing him to look up and momentarily meet the gaze of the unusual individual. Unusual choice of implants... They must be custom made. He picked up one of his croissants and turned back to his schedule while a small voice tried to tell him that those weren't implants...

[Tychris1]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Low Hab, approaching to Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

Wilbert looked around at the masses of people shoving and pushing each other to get where they want. Thugs, vagrants, whores and wretches. The unwashed masses who beat themselves against the pressing choking walls of this grey coffin, their slicked blood greasing the human meat grinder that the Aeternus used as a pulsing heart. Wilbert's glazed over eyes stared through the ocean of scounging vermin, his only thoguths fixated on the tubes he was slowly approaching. Wilbert was never really into any of the religious groups back when he was famous, never finding the time to explore the spiritual depths of the Navigator Cult or the Neobuddhists, and after spending time in Low Hab he was no longer interested in the comforting thoughts of a higher power. There were only two things left that could comfort him, he thought as he tugged on the Suit now disguised as a backpack, and stepped into the tube.

March 5, 327 Lost Era
Low Hab
Midnight

Xartoc prowled the long corridors of the Aeternus, his sleek red armor like a blood cell swimming through countless branching arteries until it could coagulate around one of its hosts festering wounds. His heightened hearing detected a scream not too far from where he was, and given the grunts and sound of struggle he could only assume the worse. He came upon the scene from a distance, his eyes narrowing and focusing their vision until he could see down a dimly lit hallway. A women, young smooth skinned, potentially in her early 20's was being grapped at knife point by a greying man most likely in his late 30's. Xartoc tilted his head, watching the predatory look in the older man's eyes, and recognized an animal in need of being sedated. Xartoc was on him before he even realized he was being attacked, metal hands grabbing forearms, and with a mighty tug the mugger was dislodged from his prey. Grabbing him by his throat and chest, Xartoc lifted the man off the ground and grunted.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Gagging, the man grabbed at Xartoc's arm but to no avail, and as he squirmed underneath Xartoc's cold grip a loud snapping noise could be heard. Xartoc glanced down at his thumb, realizing too little too late that it had sunken in deeper then the other fingers, breaking a rib in the process. Were it not for the helmet obscuring his face Wilbert would have betrayed a feeling of surprise. He hadn't pushed that hard, he needed to spend more time practicing with the suit, and come to better grips with its limits and strength. Hearing him wheeze, Xartoc waited for the rescued victim to run off to safety, and proceeded to throw the mugger down the long hallway. He'd have to be more careful in the future, Wilbert had to keep up a certain image as Xartoc, and murderer wasn't it. Though more importantly, Wilbert wasn't sure if he could live with himself killing someone.

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Low Hab, Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

Wilbert walked into the Perpetual Neighbor, one of his favorite liquor fonts in all of Aeternus, and sat down on the ground next to the entrance. His stomach rumbled, his liver cried out to be poisoned, and with a quick breathe in he silenced both. He had money to eat with, but that was for later in the day, and he needed to count every coin if he wanted to pay the rent on time for his landlady. The first time he did it it felt degrading, but now it was just another facet of his miserable existence down here, and with a practiced motion he took a cup out of his Suit-Backpack and rattled it.

"Feed the poor?"

[Morph Bark]

327 Lost Era, March 12, Morning
LowHab, The Perpetual Neighbour


The appearance of Shimona was different. The interruption was very much a relief. However, Tatyana could understand Theo's feelings. Such a warm atmosphere was relaxing and naturally comforting. The simple style to chide and smile.
If Theo was free more often, probably they would be a good couple.
It was the observation she wanted to reluctantly think.

"Shelly was found some streets away from that position. That area is detailed with the case report." Tatyana tried to explain to the detective.
"It should be on the map." Even if she recited the 3D map position coordinate number, usually that only annoyed superiors, so she tried to avoid that awkward situation now.

As Shimona came to the table with Beckett's coffee, he waved a hand to her and placed an order of his own. "Ah, Shimona! I don't suppose I could impose upon you for a cup of black tea? If it's still in stock, a dash of lemon juice would be simply splendid." He spared a quick glance at a digital pad in his pocket to check for his most recent PALADIN paycheck, then looked back up at Shimona with a thumbs-up.

With that, Theo settled back in his seat with a glowing look of satisfaction. Good drink, great companionship, and the promise of adventure - what more could he possibly ask for from life? If he could merely... wash some of the smoky smell off of that scruffy Detective fellow, he could nearly picture himself setting off on a noble quest at this very moment. Sometimes, knighthood meant tolerating the little imperfections in life, he supposed.

http://imageshack.com/a/img905/173/7jwXT2.jpg Detective-Inspector Anders Beckett

Beckett broke off his weird analysis of the two PALADIN officers and thanked Shimona for the drink the same way she'd greeted him when he came in -- two fingers to the temple in a casual, little salute. He sniffed it briefly, detecting something...some special ingredient in it...Shimona always did make the best coffee. He took the case files, piled them up, pushed out of the booth, and drank about half of the coffee in one go. "Right. Thanks for the uh...info." he sort of grunted as he put the cup down on the bar and started walking out.

Didn't even offer to pay.

Wilbert walked into the Perpetual Neighbor, one of his favorite liquor fonts in all of Aeternus, and sat down on the ground next to the entrance. His stomach rumbled, his liver cried out to be poisoned, and with a quick breathe in he silenced both. He had money to eat with, but that was for later in the day, and he needed to count every coin if he wanted to pay the rent on time for his landlady. The first time he did it it felt degrading, but now it was just another facet of his miserable existence down here, and with a practiced motion he took a cup out of his Suit-Backpack and rattled it.

"Feed the poor?"

Shimona gave Theo a nod and waited a few seconds if his partner was going to say anything. When Yan didn't address her, she assumed she did not want anything to drink, and she turned away from the table. Since business was otherwise quiet, she returned soon with a cup of black coffee the way Theo had ordered it. In a way, she remained surprised at his tastes. Considering his fascination with all things cool and noble, she sometimes still felt an expectation of him to be the type to drink sweet and eat sweeter, yet he remained simple in his choices. Then again, not many wanted their coffee to have lemon juice in it, so he still stood out from the crowd in that regard.

She left them at their table, knowing Theo would pay either before he left, or make due on his tab soon enough. When Beckett got up to leave, however, Shimona couldn't help but pipe up from behind the bar. "'Ey Beckett," she spoke sweetly, though with that distinct accent, "it's been a while, so... are ya gonna leave without payin' yer tab?" Though her tone was sweet, she had a cat-like smirk on her face. She wondered if the presence of two PALADIN officers would affect Beckett's reaction this time.

The Neighbour girl kept her expression even as another regular customer came past Beckett and sat down at the bar two seats from Annalisse, rattling a cup. "Aw Joe, yanno it dun work that way. In here, you give me money and I give you booze." She reached for a Pißwasser beer in the cooler and put it on the counter in front of him. "If ya dun got the money for a proper whiskey today, ya can have this instead. Cheapest alcohol in LowHab."

[PepperP.]

327 Lost Era, March 12, Morning
LowHab, The Perpetual Neighbour






Shimona gave Theo a nod and waited a few seconds if his partner was going to say anything. When Yan didn't address her, she assumed she did not want anything to drink, and she turned away from the table. Since business was otherwise quiet, she returned soon with a cup of black coffee the way Theo had ordered it. In a way, she remained surprised at his tastes. Considering his fascination with all things cool and noble, she sometimes still felt an expectation of him to be the type to drink sweet and eat sweeter, yet he remained simple in his choices. Then again, not many wanted their coffee to have lemon juice in it, so he still stood out from the crowd in that regard.

She left them at their table, knowing Theo would pay either before he left, or make due on his tab soon enough. When Beckett got up to leave, however, Shimona couldn't help but pipe up from behind the bar. "'Ey Beckett," she spoke sweetly, though with that distinct accent, "it's been a while, so... are ya gonna leave without payin' yer tab?" Though her tone was sweet, she had a cat-like smirk on her face. She wondered if the presence of two PALADIN officers would affect Beckett's reaction this time.

The Neighbour girl kept her expression even as another regular customer came past Beckett and sat down at the bar two seats from Annalisse, rattling a cup. "Aw Joe, yanno it dun work that way. In here, you give me money and I give you booze." She reached for a Pißwasser beer in the cooler and put it on the counter in front of him. "If ya dun got the money for a proper whiskey today, ya can have this instead. Cheapest alcohol in LowHab."

Annalisse glanced from the PALADIN officers she had been eavesdropping on and waved her near empty wine glass in Wilburt's general direction,

"Shi, give the man a whiskey on me, hell make it a double. It's that kind of morning." She winked at Wilburt and slid off her stool, she doubted the PALADINs would drop any more interesting details and she had an appointment to make with the Flame Superior. She was worried that her time had come to become a Flame Governess, who were in charge of mentoring new recruits. Annalisse shuddered, she despised teaching. She paid her tab and the cost of a whiskey double, nodding at Shimona,
"See ya." She said almost friendly as she turned to leave.

[zabbarot]

FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
Maker's Sanctum, Dark Sector
00:00:00, Early Afternoon?

Booting _

.

. .

. . .

4480 CPUs detected

Swarm integrity 100%

Base systems operational

Seed AI found. Load y/n? Y

10%

35%

50%

Error. Restricted to 50% Continue y/n? Y

Extracting archived memory

Loading personality

Load complete

Thousands of eyes opened to darkness. He was inside the synthskin. The brown eyes blinked several times while the cameras came online, then FS16K4 could see the Maker's Sanctum. He felt refreshed. A clean boot was always a good way to start the... his internal clock read that it was well past midday. That was unusual syncs with the maker are always scheduled for 0000. Perhaps he had encountered an error.

/* ANALYSIS: FS16K4, all systems operational. MANDATE: Proceed with directive. */

He took a couple steps out of the pod. His balance showed no significant improvement, perhaps he was reaching a plateau. The hanger was empty aside from him and the Maker. The rest were hard at work, keeping the ship in once piece. Why had he come back here? It had not even been a full day cycle since his last sink. /* *Error: Data not found.* ... Strange, there is a 14 hour blank in my archival memory. */ It was seeming more and more likely that he had encountered an error. It didn't matter, he was fine now. The Maker had restored him. He started on the long walk back to his assigned maintenance sector.

[ChronicLunacy]

http://imageshack.com/a/img905/173/7jwXT2.jpg Detective-Inspector Anders Beckett
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Perpetual Neighbor
Morning


She left them at their table, knowing Theo would pay either before he left, or make due on his tab soon enough. When Beckett got up to leave, however, Shimona couldn't help but pipe up from behind the bar. "'Ey Beckett," she spoke sweetly, though with that distinct accent, "it's been a while, so... are ya gonna leave without payin' yer tab?" Though her tone was sweet, she had a cat-like smirk on her face. She wondered if the presence of two PALADIN officers would affect Beckett's reaction this time.

At the sound of Shimona's voice, Beckett stopped at the door and took a moment to put his hat back on. He glanced back at her. Would the presence of the PALADIN officers affect his reaction? Yes, but not in a positive way. "Get the puppy to pay," he said, obviously referring to Theo, "or put it on my tab. I'll see you later." he said before pushing the door open and walking out.

Outside, Beckett hung a right down the "street" and headed further down into the Low Hab, heading in the direction the map had pointed out for Maria Seldon's house. He'd take public transport tubes instead of his unmarked Officer Corps. patrol cruiser. Even without any obvious symbols the thing stuck out like a sore thumb in the less-than-reputable sections and he didn't want to purposefully make waves...yet.

ATTN: Morph Bark, A Rainy Knight, Kasanip, Space Lawyer, and whoever is playing Maria Seldon

[Netjester]

12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop


"Oh no, Kira, your hand...!" Adriana unceremoniously plunked her coffee jelly on the table and grabbed a napkin, shaking it out away from them to make sure there was no glass before carefully - but firmly - grabbing the Immersive's wrist.


"Oh dear...it doesn't look like there are any shards stuck in there, so that's good, but you're bleeding rather more than a little...!" She pressed the napkin into Kira's palm, wincing a little in sympathy.
"I'm sorry if it hurts, darling. But we want to try to stop the bleeding, or at least slow it down..."

Her eyes darted to Damien, someone she'd met only a few times. Empath. Another group feared by most of the Cult. ...Well, he had just turned a saltshaker into a bomb.


"...Are you sure that's a good idea? You look about ready to fall over. Perhaps you should just stay still, for a moment, and I can go get us some water and some bandages - and another saltshaker, too, I suppose." Her mother had said that dangerous empaths dealt better with calm voices and calm minds. So calm was what she was trying to be...

Her mother. Oh, lord. If her mother heard about this she would have a fit. Were other people paying attention? Her eyes flickered around, shifting color slightly. She wished she could be like Kira...seeing if people were sending messages or taking pictures.


"It's no trouble, really...I can go find someone or something to clean up the mess..."



12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop









Ow. Ow, ow, ow, pain hurts. I'd almost forgotten...probably should be worrying about tha-OW! The last thought came with a hiss of pain as Adri pressed another napkin down around the one already held over the cut on her palm, almost flattening her hand slightly - but the Coderunner managed to pull it away before her friend pushed down. That would...that would hold it...right? Oh, messages. Damien...

I'll live. Hurts, she accompanied that with a complex string that translated (roughly) to a rueful sort of vague agony, but I'm pretty sure it could be far worse. I'll see what I can do re: meeting. Putting up a privacy screen now...don't want to have this all over the ship the moment someone gets a vid. Damien might be able to see a faint representation of the screen leaking through from the Datasphere into AR, but it didn't really matter. She'd tossed up two, one around the table and another around the cafe, and it would take another Coderunner to properly find them or work their way through. Luckily, none were currently about.

"Don't worry...Adri." She muttered through teeth clenched against the pain. "I'll be ok. I...um...I think. The cut didn't look...too deep." She muttered something unmentionable under her breath. "Just hurts like hell." A message flipped up in front of Adri's eyes as Kira said that - she probably shouldn't compartmentalize like this, but....damnitall it helped.

Privacy screen around us. No pictures. Something for the pain would be nice...


12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop


As Damien slumped back in his seat, his eyes still throbbing from that unexpected burst of power, he pressed his fingers to his temples as he could feel Adriana's unease washing over him. Did that really need to happen HERE of all places? In front of the freakin' cultist of all people? He couldn't help but feel a vague disquiet as his heartbeat slowed, eyes constantly flicking over to her as he tried to make sure she wasn't about to pull a knife on him or something; while alternately scrolling his news feed through some of the esper newsnets he subscribed to on his right eye as he tried to get a handle on what the actual hell had just happened here.

"You're... You're right..." Damien did feel a bit woozy. Light-headed. Slowly, he became acutely aware of a warm trickle trying to leave his nostril; and instinctively, he tilted his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose. Well, now I'm certain it was another manifesting... Ollie's never given me a bloody nose at this range before. Frag me, now I need to go and register as a C-5...

He jotted a quick message through the datalink as he closed his eyes, trying to stem the flow by pinching tighter, and eventually being rewarded with a stopped nosebleed, despite the taste of blood coating the back of his mouth. Don't worry about it; worry about that cut before anything. Don't want it getting infected. Damien groaned before lifting the second cup of espresso to his lips, draining it in one go before an audible shudder wracked his spine.

[Nefarion Xid]

Ash and SpectreMarch 12, 327 Lost Era
The Treasure Hold, Stairwell
Morning

Ash was still unused to seeing Spectre in casual conversation, or... at all. Nonetheless, she gave him a grin that was mostly teeth. "What do we do with it? We sell it to the highest bidder, of course." Her eyes lit up. "Ooh! And then we sell them and the original thieves out to PALADIN. The bad guys get caught, and we get to make bank two or three times." The grin faded as she contemplated his other question, and she continued down the stairs as she spoke, trying to ignore the building thunderhead of "Omega Ollie's" rage - while she admired a man who could experience such purity of emotion (she'd once used it as an improvised compass when she'd gotten lost during a rare foray into the Dark Sections), and wondered what had happened to set him off this time, she didn't need to be distracted right now. "The how is trickier. We have no leads, no resources other than our personal abilities and contacts, and the one tip we're getting from the authorities is that I did it. I think the first thing we need to do is make enough money that we can use it to convince people to talk when we ask the right questions. After that, we find a way to convince a PALADIN officer or a Coderunner to give us the real notes - where it was stolen from and how they think it happened. Then we investigate. We might not be trained, but we're also not going to be hindered by all that 'due process' nonsense, so we might beat PALADIN to the drive core anyway."

"Convince them? I'd hate to call telepathic suggestion 'overt', but I think I can provide a solution with more finesse. It will perhaps require more time in a men's locker room than I am comfortable with. Alas. There's really no easier way to steal PALADIN equipment."

The sound of Spectre's footfalls on the steps ceased. Reliably, when she turned to look over her shoulder, he was gone -- nearly.

"I'll meet you here tomorrow. Same time then? We'll compare notes and see who found the biggest prize."

[Kitsanth]

327 L.E. March 12th
Late Morning
Lowell's Quarters, LowHab

It was late when Rikki finally woke. Still fuzzy from the longer sleep she wondered what had happened to her usual alarm.

Ahh, right. Self-imposed day off. Rikki realised.

Pondering how exactly she always managed to forget this kept Rikki's mind occupied as she went about her usual morning routine. Her breakfast of genuine fruit and luxurious five minute long warm shower done with. Now more awake Rikki reached out to gauge the general mood of the ship, and from the general impressions it seemed that Aeternus had emerged from slip-space. It was always nice when that coincided with her schedule. With that out of the way she figured it was time to check up on her house guest. Rikki had left him interfaced with the non-networked terminal she archived her case-files on overnight. Something about room to stretch, AI's weren't anywhere near Rikki's area of expertise but she was trying to be accommodating so...
Rikki walked over to said terminal, brought up a new file and proceeded to type;

ATTN Zyn: Ship has emerged from slip-space, as such I will visit the Treasure Hold markets and head to canasta later. I have some extra credits handy if there was anything you needed.

Short and to the point, Rikki was still feeling her way with this new acquaintance after all. Being unable to rely on her empathy was a welcome challenge.

[Tychris1]

Annalisse glanced from the PALADIN officers she had been eavesdropping on and waved her near empty wine glass in Wilburt's general direction,

"Shi, give the man a whiskey on me, hell make it a double. It's that kind of morning." She winked at Wilburt and slid off her stool, she doubted the PALADINs would drop any more interesting details and she had an appointment to make with the Flame Superior. She was worried that her time had come to become a Flame Governess, who were in charge of mentoring new recruits. Annalisse shuddered, she despised teaching. She paid her tab and the cost of a whiskey double, nodding at Shimona,
"See ya." She said almost friendly as she turned to leave.


327 Lost Era, March 12, Morning
LowHab, The Perpetual Neighbour

The Neighbour girl kept her expression even as another regular customer came past Beckett and sat down at the bar two seats from Annalisse, rattling a cup. "Aw Joe, yanno it dun work that way. In here, you give me money and I give you booze." She reached for a Pißwasser beer in the cooler and put it on the counter in front of him. "If ya dun got the money for a proper whiskey today, ya can have this instead. Cheapest alcohol in LowHab."

March 12, 327 Lost Era
The Perpetual Neighbor, Low Hab
Morning

Wilbert winced as he looked at Shimona rejecting his poverty induced actions. He always hated begging for money. Made him feel less then human, made him feel incompetent and useless, well more incompetent and useless then he normally felt. Like a husk of skin and bone and stomach all running on one primal instinct. Wilbert made a mental note not to beg infront of The Perpeual Neighbor again.

His eyes became a lit with new found energy however when a kind hearted stranger decided to pay for Wilbert's drink and then some. Such an expenditure would have normally been a steep investment for him to blow all in one shot, and so he stared at the departing women for a few seconds, putting her description to memory as best he can. He didn't like owing people either, so he would have to find her again sometime and repay her kindness. But that was for another time, and now Wilbert's eyes were burning with desire to quaff down his newly acquired drink. Breathing in the familiar aroma he began to work at his double whiskey when he finally spotted the PALADIN and Officer Corps. Members. That was rather unusual, PALADIN were dime a dozen down in LowHab but the Officer Corps were only rouses for important things. Things that might require Xartoc's attention......

After waiting a few beats, Wilbert finally worked up the courage (With the aid of some liquid courage) to initiate a conversation with Shimona. Stuttering, he placed his drink down and looked at her.

"H-h-hey. What's with the uh, the Officer Corps down here, um, if you don't mind me asking...."

[Jade_Tarem]

Shelly and Ash
March 12, 327 Lost Era
The Treasure Hold, Citrine Gallery (Orion's Belt)
Slightly Later Morning

Ash ran a lot of jobs.

While the popular conception was that she did something big about once a year and then laired, waiting for her next chance to strike, possibly while living it up, the truth of it was that the 'big jobs' came with a big overhead. Even without including the jobs that didn't pay out what she thought they would or the ones where she had to spend more than she made to buy her way out of trouble, sometimes a scam or theft tanked completely.

Sometimes a mark got suspicious, sometimes pure bad luck or bad timing ruined it, sometimes it was a mistake on her part that she figured out in the middle of the night three weeks later. Usually, Ash never quite knew what, or how, or even when things went wrong.

That was not the case today. Ash knew exactly when things went wrong - she was looking right at the clock underneath the mounted monitor in Gar's bar when Shelly came through the wall.

That was not quite as alarming as one might expect - this being a modular and configurable gallery, the 'wall' in question was mostly made of soundproofing and was on removable slide-rails anyway. It still managed to make an impressive *crash* as it hit the floor, and the sweater-clad mark stared at the shorter thief across a mostly-empty bar.

"Hi...?" Frankly, Ash was impressed that the other woman had managed to track her down across well over half the Treasure Hold. Either she'd been exceptionally lucky or - more disturbingly - had spotted Ash soon after the trick and had waited to confront her until she was in a more confined space.

"Now what'd you go and do that for?" Gar complained - it was too gravelly to be a whine, but it was as close as Gar ever got.

"You lied to me." Shelly was remarkably still. Ash expected wild gesticulations, or at least trembling, based on the rage she was picking up. Even so, Ash had been in worse situations - and frightened off scarier people - so she shrugged and leaned back against the bar. "I... did! With my decade or two of experience in dealing with people, I have discovered that lies can be very powerful motivators."

"Seriously, lady, there's a door three meters to your left."

"I want my money back."

"Don't we all?" Ash finished her drink. "Look, what I did might have been unfair, but it wasn't illegal. You took 20 creds into the Treasure Hold and gave them away to the first person who asked for them. There's no way you were leaving with that money or the equivalent of it."

"It isn't locked. It isn't even shut!"

The psychic had never been that happy to be cornered or pushed around, even by people who had a right to do it, and despite knowing what a mistake it was she let a smile play back onto her face... and shot her mouth off one more time. "Anyway, if it makes you feel better, I'll buy you a dr-" That was as far as she got. The thief's danger sense flared (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2P5qbcRAXVk) as her face flashed to an expression of alarm - one that might have, under other circumstances, seemed comical next to Gar's continued scowl.

The trigger for it was no mystery - Shelly had picked up the table next to her. That might have sounded less impressive than knocking down the wall, but unlike the wall, Gar had (against regulations, and the wishes of the Engineering Bay) bolted the tables to the floor specifically to prevent them from being used as improvised weapons. Indeed, the bolts had held fast, but the adhesive keeping the round table top attached to the base had proved to be the weakest link. The taller woman staggered for a moment, off balance from the sudden release of the glue, and Ash took that opportunity to act.

She did not scream - that would have been undignified and unfitting for the Puppeteer. She did, however, warn her good friend Gar about the impending danger as loudly as possible so as to spoil her foe's attack.

"GAAAAR!"

The big man rubbed his ear and flinched away. Just now looking back from his ruined wall segment. "What?"

"DUCK!"

The scoundrel suited action to words, diving over the bar and dragging the establishment's owner down with her. She was just in time - the large metal disk sailed through the space where Ash's head had been a moment ago with enough force to plow through the row of bottles on the back shelf and lodge itself in the wall. Shattered glass and beer splashed down in twin streams.

"My house brews! Do you have any idea what all that's worth?"

Ash gave him a smirk she didn't really feel, but despite her hammering heart, old habits died hard. "Like half an RT, tops?"

"F*** you too, Ash."

Something hoisted the psychic up by her tunic before she could reply. The bar whirled around Ash, and then she found herself slammed back-first against one of the intact - and more permanent - walls, staring into the eyes of her attacker. "Ash? Not Claye... your real name, or another fabrication?"

The con artist noted that Shelly's stammer appeared to have vanished, along with her insecurity, vulnerability, and obliviousness. For a fraction of a second, she wondered why the young woman wasn't content to run home and write a mopey blog post about it like most of her marks. "Nah, you got me." Ash's eyes flashed - not literally, but she was good at changing her expression like that. She hardened her voice to go along with it, "Of course, you may find that this isn't what you want. I'm Ash Eigan, Class Five Psychic #2020, also known as the Puppeteer. Are you sure you want to pick a fight with me?" Ash would sure as hell pick a fight in Shelly's place - that woman had been a fraction of a second from replacing the psychic's teeth with a cheap table top, and the only comparable weapon Ash had - her special knife - was with her faux ship suit back at Phoebe's shelter. However, the line had gotten her out of fights with otherwise superior opponents before, especially when she used her powers to try to ram her own fears and doubts into her target as she did now.

And for a moment, it worked - the tall girl dropped her, a brief flicker of her earlier demeanor evident, and Ash made a break for it. Refusing to break into a run that would betray her terror and possibly snap Shelly out of her own, the thief was out the hole in the wall and knocking another panel down from the ruined guide rails. She started to pause, decide on an escape plan, and even considered finding a hiding place, but through her rapidly dissipating connection to Shelly she could feel her power fading faster than normal. When she looked at Ash again, the exterminator was back.

During her forays into the teeming mass of humanity aboard the Aeternus, Ash had learned that many of everyone's favorite adages were quite wrong. Cheaters frequently prospered outside the context of morality fables, the guy with the sword got to decide who owned a pen, and while slow and steady could win races, a panicked sprint could keep you alive long enough to think of a Plan B. It was this final strategy that she decided to employ (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KJsjxQ6V7Is), dashing off through the rough-looking crowd of Citrine level. She had lots of places to run and hide, but she needed something that would shake her pursuit.

The Treasure Hold had, by this point, had enough time to properly awaken. Built in the port, dorsal, fore corner of the ship, it was one of the few places on the Aeternus that showed a proper view of the ship's beveled edge, and as a result the hold took the shape of an eight-tiered promenade, which was how one grand staircase could reach all the decks without switchbacks or curves. While each level had about the same area, the slant to this part of the ship meant that the lower decks appeared to extend further toward the side of the ship than the upper decks, and all of that sat beneath a cavernous space with a ceiling of photium steel, currently displaying the majesty of the solar system under observation. Hovering vehicles ranging from tiny, sporty one-seat bikes to floating food trucks darted or lazily meandered across the massive space, though they remained on certain channels to make sure that the advertisements and machines never completely destroyed the view. More to the point, people were everywhere - while they had recreated a fine (if packed) promenade on the upper decks, on the lower decks it was more a reenactment of the old earth's middle eastern bazaars. From the large area under the ceiling to the part of each observation deck that extended into the ship, the corridors and rooms had been re-purposed for buying and selling anything - anything - of value.

And while there was no status or decor in the Treasure Hold, there was still some stratification, class-wise. The Citrine Gallery was mostly given over to the idle-time vices that humans would never abandon: mind altering substances ranging from mild intoxicants to powerful hallucinogens, invitations to special places on the Ruby Level, things restricted or illegal elsewhere... all of it could be found here, free of judgment. Unfortunately, it was also free of clear running lanes, and Ash found herself pushing through a most uncooperative crowd. Even subtle psychic nudges to get people out of the way were pointless when there was nowhere for them to go, either.

That wasn't a problem for Shelly, as it turned out. People just started flying out of the way, crashing down on each other, market stalls, and the obligatory wheeled fruit cart. Screams began to filter through the crowd, and Ash once again marveled at her pursuer's single-minded determination and questioned her life choices. Or at least, she promised herself that she would do that later and instead darted sideways between two low-hovering food trucks and tumbled over the safety railing that separated the Citrine Gallery from Ruby Level, down below. She tucked and spun, bouncing off the slanted roof above a brothel and rolling to a halt in the 'street.' The thief had just started to climb back to her feet when her former mark came sailing over the same safety railing, missing the small awning completely and nailing a three-point landing in the middle of the same thoroughfare. Oh, come on, Ash thought at no one in particular, though she felt the emotion bleed out into those around her. Voices raised in sudden anger and fear, commingling with the lust in the air and turning ugly. The socially impaired on either side of the road began hooting for a catfight, but the psychic was in no mood to oblige - and neither was Shelly. The woman caught up to her in an instant, and a moment later the two had hurtled through the near door - unlike Gar's, it was not open or unlocked - and into the... establishment.

This particular hole was populated by the sorts that usually inhabited the infamous level beneath the Treasure Hold entirely, the kind that hung around on the deck that Phoebe had, for reasons known only to her, established her shelter on, and this familiarity did not fill Ash with confidence. Calling it a bordello, brothel, or love hotel would have been grossly overstating the caliber of the place. Even 'whorehouse' made it sound classier than it really was, and the press of thoughts and feelings in here pushed in on the empath, suffocating and grinding on her. She needed to get out, but doubted Shelly would care - hell, she doubted the tall woman had even noticed where they were or the gathering crowd.

"All this over twenty RTs?"

Shelly's face was a porcelain mask. "It was all I had. And you will give it back."

"Give it back! Gee, why didn't I think of-"

"Lady, I hope you have a way to pay for the stuff you wrecked dragging her in here." The man interrupting them - a porcine, balding being who had once probably been presentable in his current kaleidoscopic ensemble but certainly wasn't now, grinned nastily. "Actually, I kind of hope you don't."

Shelly turned the same mask to him. "I will soon have twenty RTs. Or several pints of blood."

"I don't think that's going to be enough." He chuckled, and several men best described as goons lumbered into view. "Still... a pretty face like yours, I think we can work something out."

Ash almost groaned out loud, but her foresight stopped her. That strange, ultra-clear knowledge of what was about to happen. Of course, the thought came, this is the part where she throws me and I black out.

The next few seconds were a bit of a blur, but when Ash woke up, she was out in the street, one sleeve of her russet tunic was torn off at the elbow, and her shoulder and head hurt like hell. A madam who appeared to be more wide than tall was asking if she was alright, but Ash had difficulty hearing her or, truthfully, paying attention over all the screaming and fire coming from across the faux-street, painting what had once been the level's seductive ruby tones a hellish red. The psychic didn't know why they'd disabled the fire suppression systems over there, and felt that she was better off not knowing.

She also knew better by this point to think that she was safe from the Implacable Wonder Woman that she'd pissed off. Lurching to her feet and pausing only long enough to let the deck stop spinning, she worked her way up to a brisk stumble before looking back at the fire.

Seeing a familiar silhouette begin to take shape, she figured out how to sprint again.

Exhaustion was beginning to become a factor as she darted up the grand stairway, and she felt herself notably slow down around Emerald Level. Worse still, she could feel that Shelly had made it to the base of the stairs, even without turning to look. I need another option. Something mechanical that won't tire. She spotted the row of food and delivery trucks, hovering a few feet off the ground, and shrugged mentally. Worth a shot. The one thing she knew she had that her pursuer didn't was the ability to force flawless timing. Concentrating was becoming an issue, but she felt the familiar déjà vu one more time, and picked out the one truck that would be leaving in the next ten seconds and had a robotic driver that wouldn't stop when it heard a strange thump. Ash dashed across Emerald Level, scrambled atop the vehicle, and gripped one of the maintenance handles for balance. Come on, come on, three...

Shelly was already up the stairs. Her head swiveled right, then tracked left.

...two...

The Mark From Hell spotted Ash in her fairly conspicuous perch and bolted forward, seemingly no worse for wear from the fire, the fight, or the chase. People scrabbled to get out of her way as she raced across the deck.

...one...

Shelly, in the middle of a full knife-hand sprint, slipped through the thinning crowd like a star athlete, and then - unlike a star athlete - straight through a vendor stall that happened to be in the way. Though a collection of decorative scarves adorned her midsection, the impact seemed to have no other effect on her.

...zero.

The delivery truck lifted off, blocking Ash's view of her pursuer as it rose five, then ten meters into the air, its duty done as far as the simple AI aboard was concerned. Its pace was a little too unhurried for Ash's taste, but it did move out over the lower levels, increasing its relative altitude further, and began to move toward one of the transit routes through the ship. The psychic collapsed into a small pile on the top of the truck, everything trembling except the hand gripping the maintenance handles.

Then a slender, pale arm shot over the side of the truck and grabbed the other maintenance handle.

Out of places to run and clever tricks, and too tired for more terror, Ash just laughed as Shelly hauled herself up onto the roof with her. "Let me guess. Grabbed the lift coils as it took off, then punched handholds into the side?"

Shelly considered her for a long moment, and the mask finally moved, becoming... almost sad. Almost. "Those RTs were a gift from someone I care about. A parting gift, that I intended to use to buy something more permanent."

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that." Ash sighed and flopped flat on her back, staring up at the stars and dancing reflections on the photium steel sky. "I spent that money within minutes of getting it. Contacts, mostly, who have almost certainly mixed it in with more money and laundered it away by now. That stuff gets around fast in the Treasure Hold."

"I am not that sentimental. It does not have to be the same 20 RTs."

"But I still don't have it. Also, what I did really isn't illegal here. You can't kill me for it. Well, you can, obviously, but that would be illegal - murder, to be precise. And despite all the chaos you caused I think you're the type that would be bothered by that. Knowing what I do now, I wouldn't have picked you for a mark, but there's nothing you can do to get your money back, so you might as well just give up and-"

Shelly and Ash
March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326 (Booking and Processing)
Even Later That Morning

"...ten thousand credit reward for the capture of Ash Eigan. We'll get the transfer set up as soon as we verify her ID."

"Well played." Ash grunted. Talking was difficult, bent over the desk as she was with her face pressed down on the surface and stun-cuffs binding her wrists behind her back, but she'd had practice.

"Thank you!" Shelly chirped cheerfully, the assassin queen gone for the time being.

The duty officer continued entering data as the arrest was processed. "How'd you do it, anyway? Capture the famous Puppeteer, I mean."

"Persistence."

Minutes passed in awkward silence, broken only by the occasional question from the PALADIN agents and response from Shelly or Ash. Finally, Shelly's information had been fully entered and cross-indexed.

And then an alert sprang up.

"Uh... this is a bit odd, Miss Shelly, but we're going to need to ask you to come with us for a bit and... answer a few questions for us."

"Why... w... what's wrong?"

The psychic's eyes danced, and she managed a grin as she sensed their intent and sudden suspicion. "Welcome to the judicial system, Shelly. Is it everything you hoped it would be?"

[PepperP.]

Annalisse
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Annalisse's Suite, Deck 1
Early Evening

ATTN. Aedilred/Philip

Annalisse lounged on one of the velvety low sofas that furnished the front room of her Deck 1 suite, trying to clear her mind before her client arrived. Jewel toned drapes hung behind the sofas to separate the front room where she conducted her business from her living areas. She never let any of her clients into her personal space, at least not habitation-wise. Large pillows and fluffy carpets dotted the floor amidst intermittent lamps that emitted a warm dull glow. She was dressed for business tonight, wearing a short, red slip of a dress, he was due within the hour. She propped her bare feet up on the edge of the sofa and covered her eyes with her arm, trying to block out the unpleasant conversation she had with her Flame Superior this afternoon.

"Annalisse, the Governesses and I have agreed that it is time for you to take your place as one of them, as a teacher of a new generation of Flame Tenders."

"Flame Superior, it is an honor and a responsibility that I surely do not deserve..."

"At your age, it is time for you to give back to your sisters from whom you have gained so much." Annalisse had stood silently, head bowed, a swirling mix of shame and resentment.

"Yes, flame Superior, I will do as you wish."

Annalisse lay on her sofa, again fuming at the Flame Superior's words, "At your age." They cut through her like a knife, she punched the back of the dark sofa with her small fist in frustration.

Less than thirty minutes until her client arrived now, she breathed deeply and chanted a mantra under her breath, "Do not be affected by that which you cannot change."

She felt the soothing words calm her, there would be no changing her path now, her course had been set in motion many years ago, she was in far too deep to turn back now.

[TheDarkDM]

Shelly and Ash
March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

They didn't ask her any questions. It was the first thing that stood out, so soon after her depositing of Cl-Ash. The PALADIN officers had asked the notorious Puppeteer an entire battery of questions, but after her details had triggered the alert the entire precinct had gone silent. The officers had stared at her with wary eyes, even as she desperately focused on the fresh RC chit with her reward still sitting on the duty sergeant's desk, and after almost an hour she was silently led to a cell. A cell that happened to be alongside the one holding Ash.

At the sight of the female thief, Shelly felt an odd mixture of trepidation and superiority. The hour between her losing Maria's carefully saved credits and her delivering Ash to PALADIN were still something of a blur, and that scared her. Clearly she'd managed to subdue the woman who'd conned her, but how? And why did she feel so good?

Curled on top of her cell's narrow cot, Shelly eventually cleared her throat.

"Excuse me, but...how did we get here?"

[Rain Dragon]

327 L.E. March 12th
Late Morning
Lowell's Quarters, LowHab

It was late when Rikki finally woke. Still fuzzy from the longer sleep she wondered what had happened to her usual alarm.

Ahh, right. Self-imposed day off. Rikki realised.

Pondering how exactly she always managed to forget this kept Rikki's mind occupied as she went about her usual morning routine. Her breakfast of genuine fruit and luxurious five minute long warm shower done with. Now more awake Rikki reached out to gauge the general mood of the ship, and from the general impressions it seemed that Aeternus had emerged from slip-space. It was always nice when that coincided with her schedule. With that out of the way she figured it was time to check up on her house guest. Rikki had left him interfaced with the non-networked terminal she archived her case-files on overnight. Something about room to stretch, AI's weren't anywhere near Rikki's area of expertise but she was trying to be accommodating so...
Rikki walked over to said terminal, brought up a new file and proceeded to type;

ATTN Zyn: Ship has emerged from slip-space, as such I will visit the Treasure Hold markets and head to canasta later. I have some extra credits handy if there was anything you needed.

Short and to the point, Rikki was still feeling her way with this new acquaintance after all. Being unable to rely on her empathy was a welcome challenge.

-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12th | Midmorning
LowHab | Lowell's Quarters



Zyn casually walked onto the screen as Rikki was typing; or at least the image of a human which represented the AI did. He 'looked' at the message that was being written and adjusted his long black coat. The lines which adorned it glowed a serene blue as he 'looked' at Rikki. "As it happens, a new storage segment for this computer would be useful as one seems to be... 'on its way out'. I could pay you for it when I make my first RCs." a male voice with subtle filters over the top to make it seem more 'digital' came from the computer's speakers. Zyn's mouth moved as though he was speaking, though the whole process was entirely unnecessary. As Zyn smiled, the lines on his face which could be mistaken for tattoos transitioned to a lighter blue in time with the lines on his coat. "Ah, additionally, I technically haven't been to many places outside these quarters, especially not in normal space. I'm rather curious what it is like."

[BlueHerring]

Andrew Vega and ID-15
March 12, 327 LE
Engineering Bay
Noon

Andrew walked into the Bay for the first time in almost two weeks. Unlike the rest of the Engineers who were scrambling due to the recent sljp-space exit, Andrew was on a five-day break.

Working the slip-shift (as some Engineers called it) was a harrowing experience each time. It wasn't a very widespread thing, being limited only to the maintenance men and women of the EHMC, Scavenger fleet and other spacecraft crews. Regardless, it was nightmarish. Andrew was tasked with repairing a rather odd design flaw in the firmware for the magnetic boots.

That, given the sheer magnitude of the ORION suits, was easier said that done. Andrew had to first fix the glitch, then test it multiple times. Once that was set, he needed to run simulations on each and every suit and re-calibrate the magnetic settings for the upgrade. Doing just all of that for all five hundred or so ORION suits had taken most of the slip-shift, which was rather aggravating for Andrew.

But, finally, he was done. He simply needed to grab some things from his office in the Bay, and head out. Given that he looked like he'd been through hell and back (a common appearance for any slip-shifters), most people in the Bay just gave him polite nods.

[Elemental]

12th March, 327 LE
Roughly Midday
The Treasure Hold, now a warzone

Given the commotion in the crowded Hold and the mass exodus of people deciding then to go home it would take some time for emergency services to arrive and sort things out. Alex on the other hand had no such choice. He might not have been a medical doctor, but he had first aid training and was more or less obligated to do something by virtue of his place of employment. Cursing under his breath, he made his way down the grand staircase, pushing through the panicked crowds as best he could.
Fortunately, despite the chaos, the damage was mostly minor. There were many overturned stalls and carts and a few establishments had received damage to what were admittedly flimsy structures to begin with. On the Ruby level a fire took advantage of a failure in the fire suppression system to consume a house of ill repute. Alex whispered a short prayer to all that was holy in the field of engineering that the surrounding areas were still protected as the flames fed greedily on the scarlet fabrics that decorated the interior of the building. A shorter and more sincere prayer later to long forgotten gods and Alex entered a hell his every instinct told him to avoid.


12th March, 327 LE
About an Hour Later
The Treasure Hold, calmed down now, but still a mess

Seven minutes. A new record for the emergency services. In that time, Alex had managed to rescue a woman and her cat despite getting hit by a falling roof section. It was a shame he had to break a hole in the wall, but he figured the proprietor would be more concerned with the fire damage than the new side door. A sharp pain in his shoulder interrupted his reverie and reminded him that he was sitting shirtless as a paramedic wrapped bandages around his shoulder and left arm.
"Careful! Not so tight."
The medic bandaging his injury gave him a stern look.
"If you don't like it you shouldn't have played hero."
"It's just a scratch. Literally. A wound salve and I'll be fine."
The medic just continued bandaging away.
"What is it that you doctors say? No self diagnosing? Trust me, you've got a muscle injury," said the medic matter-of-factly, "Whatever possessed you to charge through a wall with the same shoulder that got hit anyway?"
"You try thinking things through when you're in a burning building," Alex winced before continuing, "And besides, it seemed like a good idea at the time."
"Well. In future, restrain yourself from future heroics and try to rest your arm for a few days."
"Come hell or high water, you can be sure I've filled my heroics quota for the year."
He thanked the paramedic as he threw what remained of his coat around his shoulder and made his way up to the Indigo Gallery, hoping that the cafe owner he'd left his bags with hadn't simply absconded with them.

[Jade_Tarem]

Shelly and Ash
March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

Stretched out on her back, Ash didn't even bother looking around her cell. She knew the layout well enough - tiny, open commode, tiny cot, tiny sink, tiny light, all in a tiny space. On the other hand, she was a tiny person, so it wasn't too uncomfortable... by the standards of holding cells.

She had been in holding on three previous occasions, but had never wound up in the brig - or for that matter, on trial. She typically escaped before then. The first time, the officers arresting her hadn't gotten the memo about her being psychic. She'd 'convinced' them to let her go before they understood who they were dealing with. The second time, the officer had been bribed. The third time, a blackout had disabled the automated security watching her while she was in transit - a stroke of luck she knew she could never count on again.

She wasn't worried about this time, though. She just needed to rest.

Earlier
The Treasure Hold, Stairwell

"Alas. There's really no easier way to steal PALADIN equipment."

Precinct, Now

...and then Shelly had asked her question, and Ash had a sudden brainstorm. It was a fraction of an idea, but she could improvise. "This is all part of my master plan, of course. Keep watching and you'll see what I mean."

[Nefarion Xid]

Shelly and Ash and Spectre
March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

Like magic, the magnetic lock on Ash's cell door beeped twice, an indicator flashing once red, then green. Machina ex deus, mused Spectre as he replaced the pilfered key card in a pouch on his belt. The door slide open, far more silently than it had been designed for. Ash could see the green light fade to a dull yellow and the burnished metal dim for a second.

"You're so lucky that Captain Higgins takes forever in the toilet. I should have been gone twenty minutes ago," Spectre whispered kneeling down next to Ash. "Now, say something clever and wave goodbye."

[Aedilred]

Philip
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Deck 1
Late Afternoon/Early Evening


Having been awoken by the announcement that they were leaving slip space, Philip had initially feared a demanding day, but somehow he had managed to make it without being nagged about anything by his family. He counted that as a success: more time to catch up on reading and a light bit of exercise. By early afternoon he was already into his first drink of the day, and why push his luck by venturing to a bar when he could just stay in his quarters?

By the time his appointment was due then he was feeling remarkably cheerful even if it did mean leaving the relative safety of his private accommodation. All the better if he could make it without mother or the others realising where he had gone. Since it had been such a good day, why not make it an evening to remember? He changed into one of his better evening outfits and selected a half-decent bottle from his collection.

Half an hour later he was strolling, giving a jaunty whistle, through Deck 1, eventually coming to a stop at Annalise's door. He gave it a rap with his cane to notify her of his arrival.

[PepperP.]

Philip
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Deck 1
Late Afternoon/Early Evening


Having been awoken by the announcement that they were leaving slip space, Philip had initially feared a demanding day, but somehow he had managed to make it without being nagged about anything by his family. He counted that as a success: more time to catch up on reading and a light bit of exercise. By early afternoon he was already into his first drink of the day, and why push his luck by venturing to a bar when he could just stay in his quarters?

By the time his appointment was due then he was feeling remarkably cheerful even if it did mean leaving the relative safety of his private accommodation. All the better if he could make it without mother or the others realising where he had gone. Since it had been such a good day, why not make it an evening to remember? He changed into one of his better evening outfits and selected a half-decent bottle from his collection.

Half an hour later he was strolling, giving a jaunty whistle, through Deck 1, eventually coming to a stop at Annalise's door. He gave it a rap with his cane to notify her of his arrival.

Annalisse
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Deck 1
Late Afternoon/Early Evening

By the time she opened her door, Annalisse had collected herself. She greeted Philip warmly, she had met him many times before at various social functions, but this was the first time as her client. She noted the bottle in his hand and smiled, moving to the side of the door so that he may step inside. Philip was always dressed immaculately and tonight was no exception.

"Please, have a seat." She gestured to the plush sofas,

"I'll get us some glasses." She disappeared momentarily behind the curtains that hung behind the sofas, returning with two glasses and joined him on the couch.

[Kasanip]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

After Beckett left, Tatyana sighed and ears and shoulders slightly fell.
"What a difficult person." She muttered. Of course that was the problem with Officer Corps types. Always it was troublesome to meet with them.
"I hope that the situation will not be more troublesome." The vain hope offered by Tatyana in the usual sighing manner was unexpectedly unprofessional. Although there were only a few other customers, and they seemed slightly unsavory. Well, that was the concern of Officer Corps security. Maybe it was a moment easier to relax in the atmosphere of the Perpetual Neighbor and with Theo.

Tatyana rested her arms on the table and looked at her partner sitting beside. It was possible to move to the across position, however that was where the inspector was sitting. Somehow the seat even seemed uninviting with a spoiled atmosphere.

"Is it good?" She asked curiously about the drink that was ordered by Theo. Somehow her energy was used up by meeting the inspector. At least for the moment they could relax a little. Even if she was worried about the inspector's meeting with Shelly.

"I will have one, too, please." Tatyana asked Shimona. Wasn't she the friend of Theo?
"I heard you two are friends?" She asked, studying the master of Perpetual Neighbor.

[hi-mi-tsu]

March 12, 327LE
Morning
Cara's Coffee Shop


12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop


As Damien slumped back in his seat, his eyes still throbbing from that unexpected burst of power, he pressed his fingers to his temples as he could feel Adriana's unease washing over him. Did that really need to happen HERE of all places? In front of the freakin' cultist of all people? He couldn't help but feel a vague disquiet as his heartbeat slowed, eyes constantly flicking over to her as he tried to make sure she wasn't about to pull a knife on him or something; while alternately scrolling his news feed through some of the esper newsnets he subscribed to on his right eye as he tried to get a handle on what the actual hell had just happened here.

"You're... You're right..." Damien did feel a bit woozy. Light-headed. Slowly, he became acutely aware of a warm trickle trying to leave his nostril; and instinctively, he tilted his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose. Well, now I'm certain it was another manifesting... Ollie's never given me a bloody nose at this range before. Frag me, now I need to go and register as a C-5...

He jotted a quick message through the datalink as he closed his eyes, trying to stem the flow by pinching tighter, and eventually being rewarded with a stopped nosebleed, despite the taste of blood coating the back of his mouth. Don't worry about it; worry about that cut before anything. Don't want it getting infected. Damien groaned before lifting the second cup of espresso to his lips, draining it in one go before an audible shudder wracked his spine.[/QUOTE]


"Something for the pain, yes, of course, I'll go check with the cashier..." A privacy screen, that was good. Or...it was something. Luckily, Cara's wasn't full of people - it was a very nice coffee shop, but one without a great view of the outside. Normally, it didn't matter, because slipspace was boring and black...but now they'd emerged, and people had flocked to the Treasure Hold or observation decks.

Still, there were a few patrons muttering amongst themselves, checking themselves for glass, expressing frustration or irritation or fear about the exploding shaker. They'd been closest...it didn't seem as though anyone else had gotten hit with flying shrapnel. Well, that was good, at least.

"Darla, hey...do you have a first-aid kit at all? One with bandages, maybe some pain meds? One of my friends got hit with some glass from that weird exploding salt-shaker." It was a good thing, she supposed, that she knew most of the staff at Cara's.

"Sure, of course. Wonder what caused that...? Such a weird thing. Hope people don't think we were targeted by the Puppeteer or something!"

"I don't think anyone will think that, silly! It was just a salt-shaker. Who knows, maybe there was a defect in the glass or something...or it just vibrated wrong. Oh...can I also get some water...? One of my friends isn't looking too good, I think he got scared by the explosion, and maybe some water will help."

"Yeah, absolutely!" Darla passed over the first-aid kit and several glasses of water; on her way back to the table, Adriana grabbed some tissues, and a spare salt-shaker to replace the exploded one.

"Hey, Kira...I brought a first-aid kit, okay? It'll have medicine, and bandages for your hand. And...Damien...? I brought you some tissues, and some water...are you going to be okay...?" She knew she was supposed to be hesitant, or guarded. Right now, though, all she felt was worry. The empath really didn't look too good.

"Is there anything else I can do? Anything I can get you...?"

[Jade_Tarem]

Shelly and Ash and Spectre
March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

Spectre had made good time, although to be fair, he hadn't had to do laps around the Treasure Hold. "Not just yet. We're taking Shelly here with us. Then we're going to make bank." She stepped outside the cell and stretched. "How'd you get the door combination anyway? I had to read it from the guard who used it."

The psychic walked around to the observation window on Shelly's cell and rapped on the screen. "So? Whaddya think? Freedom and more can be yours for the low, low price of..." she factored Spectre into the equation. "...six thousand RT's."

[Nefarion Xid]

Shelly and Ash and Spectre
March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

Spectre decloaks in time to finish his exasperated sigh. Judging from the layer of frost had begun to build up on the intakes of his mask, he'd been sneaking around the PALADIN station for a half hour. "While greed is your second most attractive quality, I'm afraid the Phantom Express only seats one."

Speaking rapidly now, he explains, "Cameras are out on all levels. We've got 10 minutes tops before someone notices the volt spike I left in the control room -- or the two officers I left tied up in the adjacent server room. All the cells have the same code: 3369. The numbers on the right side of the keypad are all worn down... and the Captain was kind enough to leave a word document on his desktop titled 'Not Passwords'."

He had to be smirking under his helmet as he pressed the captain's pilfered wrist-top computer and the cell keycard into Ash's hands. "His bank PIN is his wife's birthday. Judging from the folder named 'Do Not Open', I'd say he married up."

[Morph Bark]

327 Lost Era, 12th of March, Morning
LowHab, the Perpetual Neighbour


Wilbert winced as he looked at Shimona rejecting his poverty induced actions. He always hated begging for money. Made him feel less then human, made him feel incompetent and useless, well more incompetent and useless then he normally felt. Like a husk of skin and bone and stomach all running on one primal instinct. Wilbert made a mental note not to beg infront of The Perpeual Neighbor again.

His eyes became a lit with new found energy however when a kind hearted stranger decided to pay for Wilbert's drink and then some. Such an expenditure would have normally been a steep investment for him to blow all in one shot, and so he stared at the departing women for a few seconds, putting her description to memory as best he can. He didn't like owing people either, so he would have to find her again sometime and repay her kindness. But that was for another time, and now Wilbert's eyes were burning with desire to quaff down his newly acquired drink. Breathing in the familiar aroma he began to work at his double whiskey when he finally spotted the PALADIN and Officer Corps. Members. That was rather unusual, PALADIN were dime a dozen down in LowHab but the Officer Corps were only rouses for important things. Things that might require Xartoc's attention......

After waiting a few beats, Wilbert finally worked up the courage (With the aid of some liquid courage) to initiate a conversation with Shimona. Stuttering, he placed his drink down and looked at her.

"H-h-hey. What's with the uh, the Officer Corps down here, um, if you don't mind me asking...."

After Beckett left, Tatyana sighed and ears and shoulders slightly fell.
"What a difficult person." She muttered. Of course that was the problem with Officer Corps types. Always it was troublesome to meet with them.
"I hope that the situation will not be more troublesome." The vain hope offered by Tatyana in the usual sighing manner was unexpectedly unprofessional. Although there were only a few other customers, and they seemed slightly unsavory. Well, that was the concern of Officer Corps security. Maybe it was a moment easier to relax in the atmosphere of the Perpetual Neighbor and with Theo.

Tatyana rested her arms on the table and looked at her partner sitting beside. It was possible to move to the across position, however that was where the inspector was sitting. Somehow the seat even seemed uninviting with a spoiled atmosphere.

"Is it good?" She asked curiously about the drink that was ordered by Theo. Somehow her energy was used up by meeting the inspector. At least for the moment they could relax a little. Even if she was worried about the inspector's meeting with Shelly.

"I will have one, too, please." Tatyana asked Shimona. Wasn't she the friend of Theo?
"I heard you two are friends?" She asked, studying the master of Perpetual Neighbor.

"Some investigation, no doubt," Shimona told Wilbert, as she eyed Theo and Tatyana at their table. "Beckett and him over there are regular customers, so they prolly decided to meet up here for convenience."

Shimona stared ahead of herself as she pondered something, then suddenly seemed to get startled into action again as she turned towards Wilbert. "Hey, I know somethin' for ya, Joe! Yer always a bit on the down end, but overall yer a pretty good customer, bein' all regular. I actually am in need for some more things for the NeighPerp. If'n ye can get me those things, run me some errands and all, I can pay ya. In credits or in booze, whatevs yer preference is."

She noticed Tatyana calling out for her, requesting the same drink as Theo had ordered. Shimona chuckled. Tatyana was in for a treat if she followed Theo's odd tastes. She filled a cup with the black coffee and stirred a few drops of lemon juice into it with a teaspoon. "Think about it," she told Wilbert. She grabbed a complimentary cookie from the cookie bin below the counter and put beside the cup on the saucer. She walked over to the table and put it down in front of Tatyana. "There ya go, luv." She said with a wink. "Enjoy Theo's unique taste in coffee." She added teasingly, those words aimed more towards Theo.

Shimona nodded in answer to Tatyana's question. "Yep, we've known each other since childhood. Theo was the little kid down the street, I was the girl next door." She gestured at the bar around them and laughed. "And fifteen years later, I still am!"

[Kitsanth]

-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12th | Midmorning
LowHab | Lowell's Quarters



Zyn casually walked onto the screen as Rikki was typing; or at least the image of a human which represented the AI did. He 'looked' at the message that was being written and adjusted his long black coat. The lines which adorned it glowed a serene blue as he 'looked' at Rikki. "As it happens, a new storage segment for this computer would be useful as one seems to be... 'on its way out'. I could pay you for it when I make my first RCs." a male voice with subtle filters over the top to make it seem more 'digital' came from the computer's speakers. Zyn's mouth moved as though he was speaking, though the whole process was entirely unnecessary. As Zyn smiled, the lines on his face which could be mistaken for tattoos transitioned to a lighter blue in time with the lines on his coat. "Ah, additionally, I technically haven't been to many places outside these quarters, especially not in normal space. I'm rather curious what it is like."

327 L.E. March 12th
Late Morning
Lowell's Quarters, LowHab

Rikki placed the keyboard aside. Zyn had probably tapped into the computer's mic once he had been made aware of her presence. And her guest was already proving to be handy to have about. Rikki had run a system diagnostic before giving Zyn leave to stretch his metaphorical legs - a diagnostic which had not revealed any probable issues.

"Thanks for the heads up Zyn, I'll be sure to pick up a replacement..." Rikki paused thoughtfully, considering her guests other implied request, "Actually, why don't you come with me? Market Day is a always a good time to be out and the Treasure Hold features large observation ports."

Checking to be sure that she had some credits and account card, "Oh, and don't worry about paying me back for the computer parts. It is my machine after all." Rikki added as an afterthought.


327 L.E. March 12th
Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold

After a slightly uncomfortable Tube ride - Rikki had years of experience with keeping the emotions of others separate, but close proximity to large numbers of people always made her feel like she was carrying a heavy load - they had arrived. Luckily she didn't need to shop often. Casting about for a hardware dealer, Rikki narrated events for her passenger.

'Well this is it,' she thought for Zyn to 'hear', 'Looks like there was some sort of commotion earlier, usually is on Market Day. The Treasure Hold is a real melting pot and it never takes long for a fight over bad merchandise or the like to erupt.'

Interacting with Zyn this way always felt a little odd. It wasn't telepathy - Rikki knew very well what that felt like - it was interfacing with the augment in the way she'd been taught, directing thoughts for archiving and later retrieval. Doing that and expecting an entity to respond... well, it still felt weird.

[TheDarkDM]

Shelly and Ash and Spectre
March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

Shelly's eyes widened at the sudden appearance of the strangely suited man, and opened even further as he calmly let Ash out of her cell. She stayed quiet as the two career criminals exchanged quips, though she let out an uncertain squeak when Ash rapped on her cell window.

"Oh, I, uh, I suppose that's reasonable. But the sergeant at the desk still has the credit chit and-"

She was interrupted by Specter's muffled voice, but as he mentioned only having room for one her entire demeanor changed. Her back straightened, her breathing stilled, and she looked at Ash with a similar look in her eye as before in the Treasure Hold.

"There is a security router embedded in the bulkhead behind you. Let me out, and I can disable it. That'll give us five minutes before the system reroutes through precinct 318's router."

[Rain Dragon]

327 L.E. March 12th
Late Morning
Lowell's Quarters, LowHab

Rikki placed the keyboard aside. Zyn had probably tapped into the computer's mic once he had been made aware of her presence. And her guest was already proving to be handy to have about. Rikki had run a system diagnostic before giving Zyn leave to stretch his metaphorical legs - a diagnostic which had not revealed any probable issues.

"Thanks for the heads up Zyn, I'll be sure to pick up a replacement..." Rikki paused thoughtfully, considering her guests other implied request, "Actually, why don't you come with me? Market Day is a always a good time to be out and the Treasure Hold features large observation ports."

Checking to be sure that she had some credits and account card, "Oh, and don't worry about paying me back for the computer parts. It is my machine after all." Rikki added as an afterthought.


327 L.E. March 12th
Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold

After a slightly uncomfortable Tube ride - Rikki had years of experience with keeping the emotions of others separate, but close proximity to large numbers of people always made her feel like she was carrying a heavy load - they had arrived. Luckily she didn't need to shop often. Casting about for a hardware dealer, Rikki narrated events for her passenger.

'Well this is it,' she thought for Zyn to 'hear', 'Looks like there was some sort of commotion earlier, usually is on Market Day. The Treasure Hold is a real melting pot and it never takes long for a fight over bad merchandise or the like to erupt.'

Interacting with Zyn this way always felt a little odd. It wasn't telepathy - Rikki knew very well what that felt like - it was interfacing with the augment in the way she'd been taught, directing thoughts for archiving and later retrieval. Doing that and expecting an entity to respond... well, it still felt weird.


-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Late Morning
LowHab | Lowell's Quarters


The lines on Zyn's face, hands and coat transitioned to a cool green-blue as he watched Rikki speak. It was still a surreal feeling for him; if he ignored the processes enabling him to interface with the computer and utilise it it was how he imagined humans interacted daily. In truth, it wasn't really the same and no matter how much Zyn's avatar seemed like a person it was more like speaking to someone far away through a computer and thus nowhere near the same as speaking face to face. Furthermore, the way Zyn's eyes flicked around as he multitasked interacting with Rikki and archiving portions of his work onto the small piece of regular memory on his datachip made it seem as though he was not paying attention. He stood a little too straight and moved a little too fluidly as he flicked long hair behind his shoulders. Perhaps the most unsettling was that as Rikki watched Zyn decided he felt like being slightly broader shouldered and adjusted as he neglected to render an appropriate emotional reaction on his face when he replied, "I have few reasons why not t- Ah, I mean sure." He almost missed Rikki's afterthought as he properly disconnected himself from Rikki's computer and awaited the retrieval of his chip.

Perhaps I should be relieved as it is uncertain I could earn RCs; according to those who manage such things, I do not exist.



-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold


Zyn's world was usually no bigger than himself. He had no way to see anything around him, no way to feel the breeze on his datachip, nothing more than what could be thought of as his mind. Yet, he didn't mind being so alone though he had no need to enter a low power state and run the programs that would process data generated for the day. Instead, he played with some musical ideas until the processes responsible for differentiating between communication with Zyn and memory archiving interrupted him. I hope we can remain safe, then. Zyn sent back using the Cybernetic Memory Augment's hardware to transmit his voice into her head. He 'sounded' more curious than concerned, confident that Rikki Lowell could handle herself. Could you show me? Zyn wondered out loud. It was possible for him to view images or video and hear sound sent by the Augment but he could not process data of any of the other senses.

[Gengy]

Chief Oliver "Omega Ollie" Ahberon
March 12, 327 Lost Era
The Residence of Hugo Vance
Noon

"You horrible, terrible little man! Look what you've done to my bathroom! How can you call this fixing things?!" Hugo Vance was a tall man, puffed up on self importance, as far as Ollie was concerned. Still, for Mum's sake, Ollie had looked the buckin' idiot up before coming in. Vance was some high ranking assistant to a big nob company that created and supplied rare metals. That didn't impress Ollie that much. It just meant that Vance - or someone else, more likely - had figured out the right combination of buttons to press to make Fabricators synthesize metal.

It wasn't the metal creation that was the secret to that company's success, but the sequence of coding for the metal.

Ollie had tried to be polite. The man did have a problem. Vance had hired a private firm of plumbers to come replace his bathtub. Ollie didn't have a problem with privatized plumbers. He encouraged them, in fact. People who actually want to fix toilets? They are very close to likeable people, in Ollie's book. What he didn't like and, in retrospect, shouldn't have become upset at Vance about was that this plumber business apparently had lofty titles for each of their employees. Vance, in one of the tirades Ollie bothered listening too, complained about having talked with a Senior Organization Executive (Ollie translated that to be: Secretary) who guaranteed good service. When that so called 'good service' didn't come on time, he called them again and got sent up to the Residential Care Supervisor, who apparently was very apologetic, and promised to get someone out as soon as possible.

Listening to this tirade annoyed Ollie, but it was the blasted black-hole headed idiot that they sent out that set him off. They couldn't call themselves 'Plumbers'. Oh no. That wouldn't be a lofty enough title. Noooooo. They had to go and call themselves 'Water Conduit Engineers'.

The so called 'engineer' they sent early this morning screwed up, big time. The water conduit-ed all right. It conduit-ed all over the carpet. And then he left - absconded, as Vance kept yelling - with the broken piece of the tub without replacing it.

Water was still sploshing out when Ollie arrived a couple hours ago, and poor Hugo Vance was worked up in a bother because not only was his residence slowly flooding, he couldn't go to work until this was fixed. Both he and Ollie agreed that him not being able to leave was the greater of the two crimes. The two of them disagreed as to the reasons why it was bad, but Ollie kept his reason to himself.

It was a simple fix for Ollie to turn the water off. It was even easier to order the correct part and wait for it to arrive. Ollie made sure that the part was charged to Friendly Water Conduits, LLC, which made Vance happy. For a moment.

Vance was considerably less pleased when Ollie noticed that the tub, the one that the part was for, had a crack in it at the bottom. In the short term, this minor crack wouldn't be a problem. The more baths that Vance took, though, the more the crack would be aggravated, and water pressure would slowly open it up. It might be years or even decades before the crack was an issue. Oliver could have left it alone. He really could have. He would have, too. But Vance wasn't leaving well enough alone.

"Honestly, I can't understand why the first engineer didn't do what you did. I had to waste an important favor to a business contact -" And Ollie would like to know more about that! "- to get you here, and then you took your own sweet time too. If the first engineer had just done he job right, we all could have been working on other things. He was a terrible, terrible engineer."

Oliver didn't disagree with that assessment, but he was becoming upset every time Vance said the word engineer. Vance was putting a lot of scorn and haughtiness into his already uptight voice when he spoke the word, and it was grating on Ollie's nerves. Especially because there was a difference between a real engineer and a... a... glorified, privatized, monkey-wrench-to-the-face-when-I-find-him plumber.

Ollie noticed the crack at about this time, and was standing up, getting his tools together, getting ready to leave. Really, it was all over. The engineer - the real one - that showed up with the part could install it, no problems. Ollie wouldn't have even come, if someone hadn't used his private message box to contact him about this. Again, in retrospect, Ollie should have just sent one of the senior Station Engineers to resolve things. He was just about to say something to Hugo, when Vance went and really messed up.

"Honestly, I'm looking forward to when my company buys out the lot of you, so we can toss that b*tch Geneva Ahberon and her gang of hooligans out of the engineering bay and get some real engineers on this ship."

Later, he couldn't remember if he dropped his walking wrench onto the crack by mistake or on purpose, but Oliver wouldn't have honestly cared. True, he hadn't introduced himself other than a gruff 'Chief Engineer here to fix your problem', but really... living on this ship, people should know better. Some of the unspoken rules were to listen to the Navigator (ok, Ollie didn't like that one much), don't blow a hole in the side of the ship (you would be surprised how many people forgot this one), and don't piss off the Engineering Bay by insulting Mum.

Ollie couldn't remember about the crack, but he remembered the girlish scream that Hugo Vance let out when it happened. The man started - weakly - to beat upon Oliver's back, calling him a "terrible loutish brute", but Omega Ollie didn't care.

"Sir, there was a minor fault crack within your tub. That was a purposeful stress test to see how long it would last, and I'm sorry to say," Ollie wasn't sorry, but he looked - or tried to look - regretfully down at the large hole in the bottom of the back of the bath, "that it was a more serious problem then I had thought. I will need to remove and replace your tub."

"But... but... that's a Vinsay Original! It's a one of twelve! The other eleven are owned by COUNCIL MEMBERS. Do you know how much I paid to get the twelfth? Of course you wouldn't! Your little brutish mind couldn't comprehend the number! This 'tub' as you call it, is... is... is irreplaceable!"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. I can find a replacement for you easy. It won't be a Vinsay, but it will function and you can take a bath. Of course, the replacement will be a might bit bigger on the sides, so, if you'll excuse me..." Oliver moved past the angry Vance, took a firm grip on his walking wrench, and came close to the bathroom doorway.

As Ollie went into a batter's wind up, he heard Vance back away screaming - too late - "What are you doing!?"

With a satisfying crack and crash, the wall on the side of the doorway had a new hole in it where Ollie's wrench went through. With a little vindictive twisting and some more beatings, Ollie managed to create a large enough hole that there was a good extra six inches, and the door frame was ruined.

Which brings us to Vance screaming "You horrible, terrible little man! Look what you've done to my bathroom! How can you call this fixing things?!"

Oliver put on his best professional smile, and brought up his data pad. Tapping away at a few things, and assigning Engineer Tyree to fixing this place up - let him deal with Vance, that'll be his punishment for sending me here - Ollie grabbed his tool bag and said sweetly to Hugo as he walked out, "An engineer from the Engineering Bay's gang of hooligans will be here to replace your tub and fix your wall in... oh... two to three weeks. If you have any further inquiries, please feel free to send them directly to Geneva Ahberon, and if you'd like to provide your feedback on my service, my name is Oliver Ahberon."

"They call me Omega Ollie."

"Go buck yourself, and have an unpleasant day."

[Jade_Tarem]

Shelly and Ash and Spectre
March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

Ash leaned close, hopefully to keep what she said from being audible to the cell's occupant. "See? We need her on our team. We need that money. Most importantly, I need her to not be murderously pissed at me." The psychic blithely ignored the fact that she and Spectre were not on a team and instead hammered out 3369 on the locking mechanism. Raising her voice, she added, "Spec, if all that stuff you said is true, Captain Higgins is going to be Janitor Higgins by this time tomorrow. That's some sorry protocol."

That Shelly somehow knew about the security router bothered her a bit. She did a quick sweep of the woman's mind again when the door opened and got something... odd. It wasn't a split personality, or anything else Ash was familiar with. It was as though someone had dug an icy well in the middle of a picturesque pastoral landscape and thrown all their dark secrets in there. Ash was too tired and frazzled to dig further, and wasn't sure she wanted to, anyway. Even in the mind, some treasure chests are trapped.

The thought came from nowhere, and Ash couldn't trace it to any of the brains around her. With Spectre's admonition about time, she couldn't investigate it either. Instead, she planted her smirk back on her face and made a gesture that was somewhere between a majordomo's 'ta-da!' and a classical butler's 'after you.' "For a good girl, you agreed to a jailbreak pretty quickly."

[TheDarkDM]

Shelly and Ash and Spectre
March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

At Ash's exaggerated pose Shelly's face broke into a slight smile, and she stepped past the empath and began to run her fingers over the wall.

"You know, I'm not sure what I am...Ash. When they found me, I was covered in blood. And not my blood."

Shelly's hand paused over a panel that looked no different than the bulkhead panels flanking it. It stayed there for a long moment, as though Shelly expected something to happen, though she herself had no idea what she was waiting for. Slowly, her smile turned into a frown.

"So you could be right, I might be good. But I'm beginning to think I could just as easily be...bad."

Shelly's arm pulled back, and in a blur she punched through the wall, revealing it to be a concealed access door to the security router that had crumpled beneath her fist. With a twist of her arm, she tore the device free from it's connectors and threw the hunk of sparking metal and plastic onto the floor.

"We have five minutes."

[Nefarion Xid]

Shelly and Ash and Spectre
March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

"How did you get locked up in the first place if you can do that?" Spectre's voice crackles as he screams through his speech filter. Pointing accusingly at Shelly he states, "I don't like her!"

"She's messing with my world view. Ash, you know how much I don't like..." The sound of footsteps on the opposite side of the door cut his tirade short. He held up a hand, asking for a moment of silence. The next instant, the man in the dark armor was gone and the door to the hallway slid open with a cheerful beep. The guard, still stirring at his cup-o-noodles didn't have time to notice that Ash was out of her cell, or that Shelly had ripped into the bulkhead. All at once, the noodles went flying and the guard's arms we secured behind him with his own restraints. He yelled, of course, but the sounds were muffled by the mysterious device Spectre wore.

Visible once more, he continues, "... when someone challenges my world view. What kind of world to we live in, Ash? A rational one."

Spectre ripped away the young PALADIN officer's communication device before marching him towards Ash's empty cell.

[Jade_Tarem]

Shelly and Ash and Spectre
March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

"Sorry, but the lunatics are running the asylum and the ship. Rational found an escape pod a while ago." Ash kept her smirk affixed and began to head down the depressingly familiar route to the booking area. "Besides, you're not one to talk. You live in an invisible gimp suit and try to fight off hypothermia in the men's locker room, so that you can bust your psychic criminal buddy out of a prison that started as a low-security brig on what would be a generational colony ship if anyone could remember where we were going, where we are, or even where we-"

The door to the booking area opened to reveal it packed with PALADIN officers. "~...haaaaaappy birrrthdaaaay toooo youuuuuuu!~" A group of them had gathered around a middle-aged Navi woman at the processing desk, right by the door the escapees had entered through. A small cake with a single burning candle squatted before her on the desk's surface.

Ash froze as the crowd of uniformed personnel observed the trio of wanted outlaws, then leaned over, blew out the candle, and hopped back through the door, dragging her new partners with her. Her instructions were, as befitting the Puppeteer, collected, calm, and articulate. "Sealitsealitsealitpunchthingy!"

[Kasanip]

327 Lost Era, 12th of March, Morning
LowHab, the Perpetual Neighbour




"Some investigation, no doubt," Shimona told Wilbert, as she eyed Theo and Tatyana at their table. "Beckett and him over there are regular customers, so they prolly decided to meet up here for convenience."

Shimona stared ahead of herself as she pondered something, then suddenly seemed to get startled into action again as she turned towards Wilbert. "Hey, I know somethin' for ya, Joe! Yer always a bit on the down end, but overall yer a pretty good customer, bein' all regular. I actually am in need for some more things for the NeighPerp. If'n ye can get me those things, run me some errands and all, I can pay ya. In credits or in booze, whatevs yer preference is."

She noticed Tatyana calling out for her, requesting the same drink as Theo had ordered. Shimona chuckled. Tatyana was in for a treat if she followed Theo's odd tastes. She filled a cup with the black coffee and stirred a few drops of lemon juice into it with a teaspoon. "Think about it," she told Wilbert. She grabbed a complimentary cookie from the cookie bin below the counter and put beside the cup on the saucer. She walked over to the table and put it down in front of Tatyana. "There ya go, luv." She said with a wink. "Enjoy Theo's unique taste in coffee." She added teasingly, those words aimed more towards Theo.

Shimona nodded in answer to Tatyana's question. "Yep, we've known each other since childhood. Theo was the little kid down the street, I was the girl next door." She gestured at the bar around them and laughed. "And fifteen years later, I still am!"

Tatyana thanked Shimona to receive the drink. She stopped before to drink at such a teasing.
"Eh? It's not dangerous, is it? Probably it's very sweet, isn't that so?" Tatyana guessed with a accusing expression.
Of course it can only be expected it this way. It was easier to relax, Tatyana realized. Maybe that was the charm point of the successful master. She has charisma. Can only be the admiration silently.
However, the surprise can't be hidden even though the explanation was given by Theo before the meeting.
"Oh my. It is a long time!" She said.
"Was Theo hotheaded as a child?" She asked. For Navi who can only imagine about that kind of life from television drama or movie, it is a naive reflection in the eyes of Tatyana.

[omnitricks]

Blitz, THE Blitz.
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Morning? Noon?
A Dark Sector Somewhere...

A successful exit from slip-space or not, it was going to be "such a wonderful day!" Hes still alive which means Blitz had the entire Aeternus at his disposal. Speaking of which "what are we going to do today eh? Anything planned?" Alright, something to do with a transport through The Rustbucket. "Are you sure we can trust that information? This is Jace we're talking about and he is a little..." crazy. As Blitz hinted by spinning a finger round the side of his head. In any case, since he had nothing better to do Blitz might as well go for the ride.

Which isn't until sometime around the afternoon...

Something to do with the peak traffic.

Whatever. Foot traffic is nothing when a person is able to just go woosh above the heads of those without their own gliders.

Gliders!

Blitz better make sure that his actually won't jam up and cause a big fiery death for himself. And that was the best scenario. At worst he would end up having to deal with the authorities. Those goons weren't fun at all and loved to waste his time with all the rules and such. Thankfully, Blitz was in the LowHabs where there aren't many of them. Most of the time anyway.

He took out his tools. Trusty wrench Bob and sharp smart screwdriver Jim. Even hardheaded hammer Harry. With dull maintenance done, Blitz started to touch up on his glider's paintjob. Fixing up the symbol of the Winged Wraiths on the bottom with red and black paint. That little ride against the walls a few days ago probably wasn't the best idea he had. Sure the glider could handle it but not him after the inevitable fall or the paintjob which got scratched all over.

"Sparks! The paint isn't even dry yet!" he yelled as he took the glider with him, doing his best to avoid getting the paint all over himself as he headed out with the group.

Blitzing with the Wraiths
March 12, 327 Lost Era
A little bit after that
Close to The Rustbucket

The Wraiths descended on their target and his posse, catching them off guard as they flew out straight from their ambush. Before they could even realize what was going on and respond accordingly, half of them were lying on their back after being bum rushed and one of Blitz's comrades grabbed the briefcase from the man who was dressed so out of place with his oversized coat and fake mustache. Cheers of victory all around.

And then zappy sounds of electrifying projectiles started flying through the air.

On their gliders, the Wraiths were hard to pin down and becoming more and more overconfident they started to circle around the people they should already be done with. Taunting them as they threw the briefcase from wraith to wraith just out of reach from its former owners. The shots were getting close and closer as the men were getting more used to the Wraiths tactics and formation before some even started hitting the gliders. A few shots even hit their riders and if it wasn't for the fast reactions of the rest of the gang, things would have ended with a messy splat.

"Don't have to tell me twice!" Blitz said in response to the calls for retreat as the Winged Wraiths started to leave, their now aggravated victims pursuing them with more shots for a few minutes until the gang successfully lost them.

A short rest with more cheers and someone brought up their prize. "Yes, yes! Lets open it and see if Jace delivered!" Blitz said excitedly although the remark could be easily lost among other similarly excited requests.

And then moans, groans and blames. "I wasn't the one who dropped the ball!" Blitz said along with many others as they started to shove the blame to each other, physically as well.

Something important (obviously since it is in a locked briefcase and all) has gone missing around The Rustbucket. Not Blitz's fault. Really! It was those other guys in the suits!

[Gengy]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Ark Ship Aeternus
Afternoon

The Datasphere is a curious thing. Like the internet whispered about in the mythical planet that the Aeternus launched from, it is everywhere and nowhere. It's connected to all devices, and pieces of it are stored all over the ship. Unlike the mythical internet, the Datasphere can actually be visited with the right mind-set and equipment.

There are many people whom pretty much live within the Datasphere, and ignore all else. There are AI that, only within the 'sphere, are larger then life itself. There are Coderunners and Immersives. There are even black hats and white hats, terms that have been around so long, few if any know their etymology. All they know is that black hats are bad, and white hats are good.

So the Datasphere is just another layer of the Aeternus, really. It's more complex in some ways, but simpler in others. It has it's own benefits and drawbacks, it's own cultures and taboos. It's disconnected from the physical world, but also... connected to everything.

Every screen.

Every monitor.

Every datapad.

Every residence.

It doesn't take much to get at least a tenuous connection to the Datasphere. The Aeternus could survive without it... but the inhabitants aboard might not function quite as well or efficiently. So the known relays that power and keep the Datasphere alive are guarded zealously, and it's another unspoken law aboard the ship: You can mess with a lot, but don't mess too much with the Datasphere. That's the domain of the Navigator, almost more than anywhere else.

It came as a surprise then, that after the 5239th successful slip space jump, every external monitor, every datapad, every communicator - everywhere physically on board the Aeternus that has a connection to the 'sphere - there was an announcement. It was not the Navigator.

Screens suddenly turned on or flickered blue, and a voice - deep, electronic, untraceable - started speaking next to the words 'NEVER FORGET'.

"Some of what was lost has been found. The map exists. The ship can't hide itself from itself. Find the map. FIND THE BLUEPRINTS."

Through a leak on the Datasphere, it's been confirmed that there is an ancient data drive that contains blue prints for some or all of the Aeternus.

While this news itself is momentous, and sends many searching for the missing map, some occupants are concerned that NEVER FORGET has somehow managed to slip a message into the ship-wide announcement protocols through the Datasphere. Coderunners and any curious white hats are asked to investigate.

[Kitsanth]

-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold


Zyn's world was usually no bigger than himself. He had no way to see anything around him, no way to feel the breeze on his datachip, nothing more than what could be thought of as his mind. Yet, he didn't mind being so alone though he had no need to enter a low power state and run the programs that would process data generated for the day. Instead, he played with some musical ideas until the processes responsible for differentiating between communication with Zyn and memory archiving interrupted him. I hope we can remain safe, then. Zyn sent back using the Cybernetic Memory Augment's hardware to transmit his voice into her head. He 'sounded' more curious than concerned, confident that Rikki Lowell could handle herself. Could you show me? Zyn wondered out loud. It was possible for him to view images or video and hear sound sent by the Augment but he could not process data of any of the other senses.

327 L.E. March 12th
Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold

'No need to worry,' Rikki directed Zyn's way confidently, 'if anything goes wrong, they'd have trouble keeping up.'

The Treasure Hold did provide ample opportunity for Rikki to use her acrobatic skills to their fullest after all.
Ascribing emotions to a program - even if that program was incredibly self-aware - was still weird. And a request for live feed? Rikki paused in her stroll along one of the upper level galleries to glance down at the still visible signs of what must have been a rather haphazard pursuit. One mental trick later and Zyn could see it too.

'Looks like a single individual being pursued by a mob,' she thought, her expert eye having easily assessed the situation. There was still smoke rising from the Ruby Gallery even.

And from this angle there was a pesky blue glint hanging about in her peripheral vision. It was distracting so Rikki turned to see what it was, silently apologising to Zyn as she did so. But the apology was unnecessary for Rikki had somehow wandered much closer to the deck's observation ports than she thought she had, and there before them hung the latest solar system. OB type star, unusual and stunning. An awe inspiring sight for Rikki's guest.

Turning from the port, Rikki made to disengage the video feed but unaccustomed to the mental load required for interacting with Zyn's space she stumbled. Which usually she would recover from quite easily, but unfortunately a shopper happened to be passing behind her at that very moment and they collided. A collision which resulted in his dropping of his numerous purchases that soon scattered across the deck.

[TheDarkDM]

Shelly and Ash and Spectre
March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

Shelly's eyes widened at the sea of PALADIN uniforms that appeared beyond the door. The ivory mask faltered, and a hint of the old Shelly re-emerged. But she didn't panic; after all, she was with one of the most notorious criminals on the ship, sure Ash would keep her cool and come up with a solu-

"Sealitsealitsealitpunchthingy!"

Ash's panic hit Shelly like a bucket of ice-water, and with a soft sigh at capricious fate the mask fell into place again. Reaching over the threshold, Shelly grabbed the shock baton from the holster of the nearest officer, dragging the unfortunate man along with it until his face made an abrupt introduction with the wall. Tearing the weapon free of the stunned officer's holster, she charged it with a disturbingly practice flick of her thumb, allowing a moment for the ion hum to charge as the door slid closed and the throng beyond it began to shout in alarm. Then the door hissed into its cradle, and Shelly stabbed the baton into the controls. Arcs of electricity rebounded from the circuitry inside, and the baton itself began to glow red hot as the continued contact kept the flow of electricity open. In seconds the panel was a melted wreck, along with the baton.

"It will take them approximately two minutes to force open the door with the pneumatic emergency lever. There's a secondary route to the main office through Interrogation. Let's move."

Apparently assuming the other two would follow, Shelly took off at a light jog towards the precinct's Interrogation Wing.

[Snowfire]

March 12, 327LE
Morning
Cara's Coffee Shop


March 12, 327LE
Morning
Cara's Coffee Shop


12 March 327LE
Morning, Cara's Coffee Shop


As Damien slumped back in his seat, his eyes still throbbing from that unexpected burst of power, he pressed his fingers to his temples as he could feel Adriana's unease washing over him. Did that really need to happen HERE of all places? In front of the freakin' cultist of all people? He couldn't help but feel a vague disquiet as his heartbeat slowed, eyes constantly flicking over to her as he tried to make sure she wasn't about to pull a knife on him or something; while alternately scrolling his news feed through some of the esper newsnets he subscribed to on his right eye as he tried to get a handle on what the actual hell had just happened here.

"You're... You're right..." Damien did feel a bit woozy. Light-headed. Slowly, he became acutely aware of a warm trickle trying to leave his nostril; and instinctively, he tilted his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose. Well, now I'm certain it was another manifesting... Ollie's never given me a bloody nose at this range before. Frag me, now I need to go and register as a C-5...

He jotted a quick message through the datalink as he closed his eyes, trying to stem the flow by pinching tighter, and eventually being rewarded with a stopped nosebleed, despite the taste of blood coating the back of his mouth. Don't worry about it; worry about that cut before anything. Don't want it getting infected. Damien groaned before lifting the second cup of espresso to his lips, draining it in one go before an audible shudder wracked his spine.


"Something for the pain, yes, of course, I'll go check with the cashier..." A privacy screen, that was good. Or...it was something. Luckily, Cara's wasn't full of people - it was a very nice coffee shop, but one without a great view of the outside. Normally, it didn't matter, because slipspace was boring and black...but now they'd emerged, and people had flocked to the Treasure Hold or observation decks.

Still, there were a few patrons muttering amongst themselves, checking themselves for glass, expressing frustration or irritation or fear about the exploding shaker. They'd been closest...it didn't seem as though anyone else had gotten hit with flying shrapnel. Well, that was good, at least.

"Darla, hey...do you have a first-aid kit at all? One with bandages, maybe some pain meds? One of my friends got hit with some glass from that weird exploding salt-shaker." It was a good thing, she supposed, that she knew most of the staff at Cara's.

"Sure, of course. Wonder what caused that...? Such a weird thing. Hope people don't think we were targeted by the Puppeteer or something!"

"I don't think anyone will think that, silly! It was just a salt-shaker. Who knows, maybe there was a defect in the glass or something...or it just vibrated wrong. Oh...can I also get some water...? One of my friends isn't looking too good, I think he got scared by the explosion, and maybe some water will help."

"Yeah, absolutely!" Darla passed over the first-aid kit and several glasses of water; on her way back to the table, Adriana grabbed some tissues, and a spare salt-shaker to replace the exploded one.

"Hey, Kira...I brought a first-aid kit, okay? It'll have medicine, and bandages for your hand. And...Damien...? I brought you some tissues, and some water...are you going to be okay...?" She knew she was supposed to be hesitant, or guarded. Right now, though, all she felt was worry. The empath really didn't look too good.

"Is there anything else I can do? Anything I can get you...?"[/QUOTE]

"Thanks...Adri," Kira's reply was distracted as she fumbled at the clasp on the first-aid kit with her uninjured hand, finally opening it just before Adri might have offered to help. She pushed the top layer of the kit aside, somehow managing to stop it going all over the floor, then slapped an analgesic patch onto her forearm. She could almost feel the trickle of drugs entering her system, and Kira waited for the painkiller to kick in before doing anything else. It didn't take long.

She blew out a long breath as the pain receded to far more manageable levels, then took a pressure bandage from the kit and slid it over her hand, carefully removing the bloodstained napkin. With the pain distant it wasn't hard to examine the wound for any fragments - she'd visit a doctor if it started to heal wrong. After that quick survey, during which she was very glad she hadn't eaten that much yet today, she slid the bandage down over the wound, adjusted it for comfort, and then let it compress over the wound to seal it.

"Thanks." She hugged her friend from sitting. "And sorry for making this meeting so...inadvertently complicated. She looked over at her other friend at the table. "Damien, what's wrong?

[Elemental]

Turning from the port, Rikki made to disengage the video feed but unaccustomed to the mental load required for interacting with Zyn's space she stumbled. Which usually she would recover from quite easily, but unfortunately a shopper happened to be passing behind her at that very moment and they collided. A collision which resulted in his dropping of his numerous purchases that soon scattered across the deck.

12th March, 327 LE
Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold

Alex winced in pain as the short woman crashed into his injured arm. Fortunately, he remained standing despite her hitting him with enough force to knock his bags out of his grasp. A half dozen books scattered across the deck and a box of silver-plated cutlery broke open releasing its cargo of knives. Suppressing the urge to scowl, he instead tried the gentlemanly thing and extended his good hand to help the woman up.
"Careful Miss. If you don't watch where you're going you'll end up like me."
With her on her feet again, he knelt down and tried to gather up his fallen possessions, a task needlessly complicated as he had to execute one handed. He muttered a curse as his attempt to open the cutlery box to put the knives back in resulted in the forks joining them on the floor.

[A Rainy Knight]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Perpetual Neighbor
Morning


March 12, 327 Lost Era
Perpetual Neighbor
Morning

After Beckett left, Tatyana sighed and ears and shoulders slightly fell.
"What a difficult person." She muttered. Of course that was the problem with Officer Corps types. Always it was troublesome to meet with them.
"I hope that the situation will not be more troublesome." The vain hope offered by Tatyana in the usual sighing manner was unexpectedly unprofessional. Although there were only a few other customers, and they seemed slightly unsavory. Well, that was the concern of Officer Corps security. Maybe it was a moment easier to relax in the atmosphere of the Perpetual Neighbor and with Theo.

Tatyana rested her arms on the table and looked at her partner sitting beside. It was possible to move to the across position, however that was where the inspector was sitting. Somehow the seat even seemed uninviting with a spoiled atmosphere.

"Is it good?" She asked curiously about the drink that was ordered by Theo. Somehow her energy was used up by meeting the inspector. At least for the moment they could relax a little. Even if she was worried about the inspector's meeting with Shelly.

"I will have one, too, please." Tatyana asked Shimona. Wasn't she the friend of Theo?
"I heard you two are friends?" She asked, studying the master of Perpetual Neighbor.


327 Lost Era, 12th of March, Morning
LowHab, the Perpetual Neighbour




"Some investigation, no doubt," Shimona told Wilbert, as she eyed Theo and Tatyana at their table. "Beckett and him over there are regular customers, so they prolly decided to meet up here for convenience."

Shimona stared ahead of herself as she pondered something, then suddenly seemed to get startled into action again as she turned towards Wilbert. "Hey, I know somethin' for ya, Joe! Yer always a bit on the down end, but overall yer a pretty good customer, bein' all regular. I actually am in need for some more things for the NeighPerp. If'n ye can get me those things, run me some errands and all, I can pay ya. In credits or in booze, whatevs yer preference is."

She noticed Tatyana calling out for her, requesting the same drink as Theo had ordered. Shimona chuckled. Tatyana was in for a treat if she followed Theo's odd tastes. She filled a cup with the black coffee and stirred a few drops of lemon juice into it with a teaspoon. "Think about it," she told Wilbert. She grabbed a complimentary cookie from the cookie bin below the counter and put beside the cup on the saucer. She walked over to the table and put it down in front of Tatyana. "There ya go, luv." She said with a wink. "Enjoy Theo's unique taste in coffee." She added teasingly, those words aimed more towards Theo.

Shimona nodded in answer to Tatyana's question. "Yep, we've known each other since childhood. Theo was the little kid down the street, I was the girl next door." She gestured at the bar around them and laughed. "And fifteen years later, I still am!"


Tatyana thanked Shimona to receive the drink. She stopped before to drink at such a teasing.
"Eh? It's not dangerous, is it? Probably it's very sweet, isn't that so?" Tatyana guessed with a accusing expression.
Of course it can only be expected it this way. It was easier to relax, Tatyana realized. Maybe that was the charm point of the successful master. She has charisma. Can only be the admiration silently.
However, the surprise can't be hidden even though the explanation was given by Theo before the meeting.
"Oh my. It is a long time!" She said.
"Was Theo hotheaded as a child?" She asked. For Navi who can only imagine about that kind of life from television drama or movie, it is a naive reflection in the eyes of Tatyana.

Theo returned Tatyana's glance as he sipped his drink, rubbing his chin in thought over her question. "Is it good, you ask? Well, I can vouch that it's certainly an invigorating concoction! As I see it, it's the perfect drink for a man on duty. Leave the sweet fruits and intoxicating liquors for when the kingdom doesn't depend on your vigilance, I say! A drink like this is all I need to be focused and alert on patrol." Though from the energy of his voice, it seemed like he hardly needed any drink's help to stay alert on duty.

He settled back in his seat and drank his coffee while Yan and Shimona discussed his history with her. Yan's last question had him setting down his cup and opening his mouth as if to answer, but he paused at the last moment and took another sip, perhaps curious to see what the answer was going to be from Shimona.

[BlueHerring]

Andrew and ID-15
March 12, 327 LE
Engineering Bay
Afternoon

Andrew sat at his desk, finishing the patch notes for the firmware update. He took a sip from his coffee (his... second cup for the day, at least as far as he could recall), and was about to update the notes, when both his monitor and wrist top turned blue.

"Some of what was lost has been found. The map exists. The ship can't hide itself from itself. Find the map. FIND THE BLUEPRINTS."

"The hell?" Andrew asked, looking around the Bay. There were plenty of other Engineers that were baffled by this. It wasn't just him, apparently. That, at the very least, was of some degree of concern.

Next was the mention of a map. A complete map of the ship. The EHMC had a mostly-complete external map for where the SIRIUS Drones and the Engineers themselves could access, but even that had entire segments restricted to the Navigator. This was definitely troubling. If someone could access a complete map, and they weren't Bay members, it could spell trouble.

So, Andrew did the only sensible thing.

Andrew gulped as he dialed a certain number on his wristtop. As the call went through, Andrew stared at the dreaded "CHIEF AHBERON" on his display with some degree of anxiety.

((ATTN: Gengy))

[Gengy]

Storms didn't happen aboard the Aeternus. Just like the internet, they were a mythical thing. Clouds? Thunder? Rain? All situated in myth. There were cosmic storms, of course, but the Navigator's self-preservation protocols remained functioning so far.

Still, the only description for what happened between Hugo Vance's residence and the Engineering Bay was a gathering storm. And it's name was...

Omega Ollie
March 12, 327 LE
Afternoon
Nearing the Engineering Bay

Ollie had been sending messages left and right about Hugo Vance, and his... opinions. Oliver knew that there would be trouble from Vance, so he jumped on top of it and sent data recordings to his mother of the conversation, and the aftermath. Mum wouldn't be pleased... but she also wouldn't be mad. Ollie could live with that. That was the normal state of their relationship, anyways.

However, with each new person that Oliver had to contact to cover his butt and make sure that the Engineering Bay gave Vance the VUP treatment (Very Unimportant Person), it was just another reminder of what Ollie had to deal with. Though people in the Aeternus halls generally made way for the infamous Engineer, he had extra space as he walked back to the Bay.

When he was just a few moment away, and in a good mental lather, his datapad went nuts. Grimacing and thinking it was Mum or someone else important, he stared at the blue screen with the words NEVER FORGET on them.

"Some of what was lost has been found. The map exists. The ship can't hide itself from itself. Find the map. FIND THE BLUEPRINTS."

The datapad went dark again, and Ollie's feet stopped moving, as his mind went to war.

BLUEPRINTS. Real blueprints. Not just mental images learned through years of working on the ship. DARK SECTORS explained. Passageways that were blocked by "Navigator Safety Regulations" could be explained. There might even be a way to the primary engineering bay... or even the Navigator's data core!

Someone is hacking the system. Someone is black hatting in the Datasphere. Someone has not only the skills, but the inclination to oppose the will of the Navigator, and it's not just Ollie. Screw the blueprints. Find that netrunner! Get him to show you how they did it, and maybe back door the software to the AI core!

No, get him and turn him over to the Officer Corps. That power is dangerous, even if it could stop the Navigator. Backdooring through all systems is supposed to be impossible, for good reasons. What if they wanted to mess with the Engines? Or worse, life support? The Coderunners are supposed to protect against this.

But... Blueprints. A real map.

Amidst all of these opposing thoughts, Ollie's datapad lit up again. A direct convo call. Ollie stared at it for a second, before realizing they were trying to get a hold of him. And it was someone that wasn't incompetent. Vega.

Still, Ollie was coming down from his storm through the ship and the war in his head, so it was something of a miracle that he snapped only as little as he did when he answered the call, "What do you want, Blue?"

[BlueHerring]

Andrew Vega
March 12, 327 LE
Engineering Bay
Afternoon

Andrew, waiting for the call to go through, finally managed to update his firmware notes. He leaned back in his chair and took another sip of coffee, only to be startled.

"What do you want, Blue?"

Andrew gulped, and ID-15 made a low whistling noise as Ollie's voice came through the speakers on his wristtop. From the sound of it, Omega Ollie was... angry. He'd have to update the Code, from the looks of it. That being said, Andrew could count himself lucky that he was one of the more competent Engineers on deck, especially within his specialty.

"Chief, you got that message too, right? About the complete map?"

[Netjester]

March 12, 327LE
Morning
Cara's Coffee Shop




"Something for the pain, yes, of course, I'll go check with the cashier..." A privacy screen, that was good. Or...it was something. Luckily, Cara's wasn't full of people - it was a very nice coffee shop, but one without a great view of the outside. Normally, it didn't matter, because slipspace was boring and black...but now they'd emerged, and people had flocked to the Treasure Hold or observation decks.

Still, there were a few patrons muttering amongst themselves, checking themselves for glass, expressing frustration or irritation or fear about the exploding shaker. They'd been closest...it didn't seem as though anyone else had gotten hit with flying shrapnel. Well, that was good, at least.

"Darla, hey...do you have a first-aid kit at all? One with bandages, maybe some pain meds? One of my friends got hit with some glass from that weird exploding salt-shaker." It was a good thing, she supposed, that she knew most of the staff at Cara's.

"Sure, of course. Wonder what caused that...? Such a weird thing. Hope people don't think we were targeted by the Puppeteer or something!"

"I don't think anyone will think that, silly! It was just a salt-shaker. Who knows, maybe there was a defect in the glass or something...or it just vibrated wrong. Oh...can I also get some water...? One of my friends isn't looking too good, I think he got scared by the explosion, and maybe some water will help."

"Yeah, absolutely!" Darla passed over the first-aid kit and several glasses of water; on her way back to the table, Adriana grabbed some tissues, and a spare salt-shaker to replace the exploded one.

"Hey, Kira...I brought a first-aid kit, okay? It'll have medicine, and bandages for your hand. And...Damien...? I brought you some tissues, and some water...are you going to be okay...?" She knew she was supposed to be hesitant, or guarded. Right now, though, all she felt was worry. The empath really didn't look too good.

"Is there anything else I can do? Anything I can get you...?"

"Thanks...Adri," Kira's reply was distracted as she fumbled at the clasp on the first-aid kit with her uninjured hand, finally opening it just before Adri might have offered to help. She pushed the top layer of the kit aside, somehow managing to stop it going all over the floor, then slapped an analgesic patch onto her forearm. She could almost feel the trickle of drugs entering her system, and Kira waited for the painkiller to kick in before doing anything else. It didn't take long.

She blew out a long breath as the pain receded to far more manageable levels, then took a pressure bandage from the kit and slid it over her hand, carefully removing the bloodstained napkin. With the pain distant it wasn't hard to examine the wound for any fragments - she'd visit a doctor if it started to heal wrong. After that quick survey, during which she was very glad she hadn't eaten that much yet today, she slid the bandage down over the wound, adjusted it for comfort, and then let it compress over the wound to seal it.

"Thanks." She hugged her friend from sitting. "And sorry for making this meeting so...inadvertently complicated. She looked over at her other friend at the table. "Damien, what's wrong?[/QUOTE]



March 12, 327LE -=Morning=-
Damien "Dreamweaver" Romero
Cara's Coffee Shop

As Adriana came back with water and tissues, he nodded at the cultist before plugging the nostril, draining the glass of water to get the taste of blood off his tongue. "Thanks, Adri..." He muttered, letting a nickname slip despite his minor infamiliarity with the woman, and internally, he facepalmed. Way to go, Damien, way to go. Another manifestation crops up, and all decorum just flies out the window. "I'll be fine... Adriana. I just... I've heard of empaths having new manifestations like that when exposed to rage like that, but I always took at as one of those... Y'know, urban legends or something. Stories that esper moms and dads used to tell their children back when we were less accepted as a people, if that's the right word to use for it."

As Kira spoke up, Damien made to stand. "I'm almost late for an appointment with a possible client. Likely to tell him that I'm not programming something for him, but money's money, savvy?" He shrugged, hands slipping in his pockets. "That, and I need to find an esper enclave and figure out if that was a legitimate manifestation or just a freak occurrence, so I might be busy till the afternoon."



March 12, 327LE -=Mid-Day=-
Damien "Dreamweaver" Romero
Damien's Flat (Deck 96)/VR; [Closed Instance: Escherwave.ins]

Damien was at home after his errands, logged in VR as he just took time to play with Merlin in a favorite construction of his; full of Escher-esque impossible structures specially coded to not lock someone in a recursive loop, but actually lead them wherever the structure was supposed to terminate. He needed this. Between the explosive anger of his would-be client at being told that the Dreamweaver wouldn't write for him, and finding out that his episode in the coffee shop was legitimate, he REALLY needed an escape. The bright pastels, bizarre floating geometrics, and gentle, downsampled oldies echoed through this abstraction; it was one of his first that he continuously worked on, and truly loved; but in an idle moment of just floating along the vibes his abstraction produced, he found something else to be panicked about today. Or more like, it found him. Typically, he liked to keep his Infonet notifications to silent. If it was important, he'd read up on it later, but there was no reason for his everything to start blaring. Except, whatever it was that was coming through his supposedly closed network-- it was bypassing his local settings. The sky faded from its gentle, pastel cyan to the dead-cerulean color that sometimes overtook viewscreens that had stopped broadcasting; and a voice boomed out across the abstraction as black lettering flashed against the sky.

"Never forget... Never forget what? What's all this slag about maps and blueprints?" Damien was confused; and in him, confusion rarely if ever lasted long. His fingers began twitching, and a translucent viewport opened as he opened a chat link between himself and Kira, the first person that could have come to mind with something like this happening. "Kira, did you see that? Never mind the fact that whatever that was managed bypassing my local settings and was loud as hell; but what could that have possibly been? It wasn't the Navigator, that's for damn sure... Did someone let a rogue AI into the public Infonet or something?" Damien grimaced as he touched down, his eyebrows furrowing with worry. "If someone's blackhatting around in Dark-Sim, down in the lowest, oldest archives, there's no reason to broadcast so wide unless that someone is in direct opposition to the Navigator. The odds of it being a meatspace hacker are incredibly low; otherwise I'd likely have already known who did it, but at the same time, if a rogue AI stronger than what local ordinances allow for, there would have been safeguards for that, right?"

[Gengy]

Andrew, waiting for the call to go through, finally managed to update his firmware notes. He leaned back in his chair and took another sip of coffee, only to be startled.

"What do you want, Blue?"

Andrew gulped, and ID-15 made a low whistling noise as Ollie's voice came through the speakers on his wristtop. From the sound of it, Omega Ollie was... angry. He'd have to update the Code, from the looks of it. That being said, Andrew could count himself lucky that he was one of the more competent Engineers on deck, especially within his specialty.

"Chief, you got that message too, right? About the complete map?"

Omega Ollie
March 12, 327 LE
Nearing the Engineering Bay
Afternoon

Looking around, and listening to the chatter around him, Ollie realized that it wasn't just a local broadcast; everyone had received the same message. It really was ship wide. This... this was a huge problem. But one with certain implications.

"Blue, I don't think anyone didn't get that message. The question is, how many of them will actually bother with it? I mean, a map of the ship would be nice - black holes, do I want it - but how many regular residents will feel like it's important?" Oliver started walking again, seeing the Engineering Bay doors in the distance. "I mean, what would a regular resident do with a complete map? Hand it over to the Officer Corps? If that happens, Mum will pull strings and we'll get it; or at least a copy. I'm worried about some fool idiot gang member or black hat absconding with it before we get our eyes on it. Programmer Hells, I'm worried about this being just a wild goose chase. In fact..."

The doors to the Bay in front of him, Ollie stepped inside. Everyone was looking a little stunned, but a few engineers were at least trying to do work. Others were not, and were still staring at their blank screens and communicators.

"What does this look like to you, a jaw dropping contest? Get back to work! Treat this as a goose chase, till we have more information!" Ollie yelled out, and then went looking for Vega as the Engineering Bay exploded once more with activity. Finding Andrew's station, Oliver stood over him, glaring. It was... almost friendly. At least, the glare didn't seem like it was aimed at Vega.

As though they hadn't stopped talking, and Ollie hadn't hung up on him a few seconds ago, he continued, "My question now, Blue, is what do you expect to do about it?"

[Rain Dragon]

327 L.E. March 12th
Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold

'No need to worry,' Rikki directed Zyn's way confidently, 'if anything goes wrong, they'd have trouble keeping up.'

The Treasure Hold did provide ample opportunity for Rikki to use her acrobatic skills to their fullest after all.
Ascribing emotions to a program - even if that program was incredibly self-aware - was still weird. And a request for live feed? Rikki paused in her stroll along one of the upper level galleries to glance down at the still visible signs of what must have been a rather haphazard pursuit. One mental trick later and Zyn could see it too.

'Looks like a single individual being pursued by a mob,' she thought, her expert eye having easily assessed the situation. There was still smoke rising from the Ruby Gallery even.

And from this angle there was a pesky blue glint hanging about in her peripheral vision. It was distracting so Rikki turned to see what it was, silently apologising to Zyn as she did so. But the apology was unnecessary for Rikki had somehow wandered much closer to the deck's observation ports than she thought she had, and there before them hung the latest solar system. OB type star, unusual and stunning. An awe inspiring sight for Rikki's guest.

Turning from the port, Rikki made to disengage the video feed but unaccustomed to the mental load required for interacting with Zyn's space she stumbled. Which usually she would recover from quite easily, but unfortunately a shopper happened to be passing behind her at that very moment and they collided. A collision which resulted in his dropping of his numerous purchases that soon scattered across the deck.

12th March, 327 LE
Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold

Alex winced in pain as the short woman crashed into his injured arm. Fortunately, he remained standing despite her hitting him with enough force to knock his bags out of his grasp. A half dozen books scattered across the deck and a box of silver-plated cutlery broke open releasing its cargo of knives. Suppressing the urge to scowl, he instead tried the gentlemanly thing and extended his good hand to help the woman up.
"Careful Miss. If you don't watch where you're going you'll end up like me."
With her on her feet again, he knelt down and tried to gather up his fallen possessions, a task needlessly complicated as he had to execute one handed. He muttered a curse as his attempt to open the cutlery box to put the knives back in resulted in the forks joining them on the floor.



-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold


It is difficult to not be impressed by the vast beauty of space. Zyn was captivated by the blue star that Rikki showed him, entirely forgetting for the moment the mayhem which must have occurred in the Treasure Hold earlier. It seemed far to soon that Rikki turned away and began to cease sending him video when she collided with a man who dropped of all things piles of books and silver plated knives. It seemed just like a scene out of that retro animation he was watching earlier. With the collision, Zyn was left 'in the dark' once more.

Rikki! Are you hurt? Zyn sent to Rikki, clearly concerned. He'd barely finished asking the question when the stranger's spilled belongings combined with what he'd seen earlier led him to a clear conclusion. If you're both okay, you should probably assist Michaelis here in procuring all of his silver knives. In a place where a mob would chase an individual, I am not sure his cutlery is safe on the floor. Zyn sent quickly alongside a very old style drawing of a tall charismatic man with red eyes and black hair wearing a black tailcoat. He seemed to be in midjump throwing cutlery.

[HalfTangible]

Elizabeth "Sunny"
The Rustbucket
Midday

One of the very few benefits of living in squalor is that so long as you don't bother them, nobody with actual power will notice you - not the higher-ups, not the PALADIN units, not even the gangs. Like the Wraiths. Or the businessmen chasing after them. Which meant that when one or both of them dropped something evidently valuable to the ground near you and continue running like turkeys with their heads cut off, it's easy to slip in and take it without anyone noticing, and then continue on your way to one of the Neighbor's Houses in the ship.

Rich people were friggen blind and so were the Wraiths.

Sunny considered the briefcase in her hands. They'd been very desperate to get their hands back on this thing. She smirked as she tapped it. Maybe she'd put this on the black market with the xeno tech she'd found. That had to be worth something, right? She checked the briefcase for any ports - she could hack one of those to open it an see the contents. If not... well, she could always sell it as a mystery box.

[Kasanip]

March 12,327 Lost Era
Patrol
Noon

Although the morning was quiet after to finally leave from the Perpetual Neighbor, it was the sudden emergency broadcast of [terrorist attack at PALADIN Precinct 326] a troublesome duty finally appearing. Naturally the request for support was acknowledged by nearby teams. For Tatyana and Theo, it was a close position, so the patrol was canceled early.
"Why would terrorists attack this location?" Is the question Tatyana asked while making the sharp turn and change directions. To handle a vehicle in this way, it was more like a combat maneuver. However, the frown expression is the face of a pilot who prefers even more difficult maneuvers and can complete while to concentrate on another job.

Although Tatyana was not the type to complain in a loud voice, this sort of incident was the troublesome situation of PALADIN. Even though Officer Corps was responsible for normal criminals, if it is a major crime like terrorism, of course PALADIN must respond immediately. The annoying situation was that the earlier message to patrol was the capture of the criminal Ash Eigan, to be responsible for a recent terrorist incident. Why did Officer Corps send her to this location?

In the military and in PALADIN, such a thing called [coincidence] cannot exist.
Therefore probably it was a related [incident].
Dodging and avoiding traffic, Tatyana was surely speeding quickly with the proper urgency that was required.
"Theo, what is the strategy, and where should I land?" Was her question. Glancing quickly to the time, it could be deduced the short timing before arrival. Theo's plans were not subtle, but he was difficult to predict.

[omnitricks]

Blitz
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Noonish
The Rustbucket

The arguing and the shoving continued on for a while longer until the Wraiths somehow reached a resolution.

"Fine then. I'll go that way" Blitz said in response pointing towards another direction which everyone else wasn't pointing to. To be honest, he would rather just avoid the group for a while. After all, they were the ones which messed up. He would call them though if he ran into the suits again, just as he knows he would call for him if they chanced on the same.

But if he ran into the loot...he might as well claim all the glory for himself, right?

In a deliberate roar of the engines, the gliders of the Wraiths were on their way and Blitz continued on even after he heard none of the others anymore. A little bit later he cut down on the noise. No need to draw any unwanted attention to himself. Not when the suits are probably looking for the case as well. And then there were the other things which might be in the Dark Sector. Blitz didn't need no trouble.

Had this been just another day, Blitz would have whizzed past by but he reluctantly had slowed down to be able to search effectively. A quick glance, she wasn't even in a suit. Heck, she was the opposite. All dirty and grimy. Like Blitz would be after days of tinkering with his ride. He was going to go right past until he saw it. He slowed down, doubled back and had a good view of it from the front.

It was a briefcase but was it THE briefcase? It could be another briefcase but just how many briefcases would there be around? Coincidence or not he might be able to bring back something to brag about.

Blitz started to hover on his glider in the air but neither stopped nor cut his engines before he yelled out "hey there little lady. Don't you know its not safe to be walking around alone? Especially when everyone is looking for their stolen briefcase?" Well stolen stolen in Blitz's case but she didn't need to know anything more about this debacle other than the suitcase being stolen.

[HalfTangible]

Sunny and Blitz
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Noonish
The Rustbucket

His briefcase thief looked to be a dirty-blonde caucasian woman in her early 20s. This close up, Blitz could see that despite the fact that the girl had clothes that looked like they'd been patched together for years, she had a fairly clean Wristtop computer on her right forearm. He wouldn't have been able to tell how powerful it was without turning the thing on and looking through its specs, but the fact that the thing looked less than a week old compared to the rest of the dirty, grimy woman spoke volumes about how much she took care of the thing. She had green eyes, and would be rather cute, if not for all the grime and dirt.

---

Sunny moved some of the hair out of her eyes. Great. A wraith already. In retrospect, she really should've hurried up, or maybe stashed the thing somewhere. But too late now - she'd just have to talk.

"I wasn't aware everyone owned a briefcase." She forced a cocky grin onto her face, tapping her hand against said briefcase. "But this one is mine, I'm afraid. I'm a security consultant. Honest."

[zabbarot]

FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
Dark Sectors
00:01:15, Afternoon

FS16K4 moved quickly through the dark sectors towards his designated maintenance area. It was a route he had taken many times, or at least he assumed it was. Every panel, every broken light, every rusted bolt was fully archived in his memory. Sometimes he'd walk part of the way with other maintainers, up until they turned down some dark corridor towards their own maintenance area. They were all already working now though. He wouldn't see them again until it was time to recharge in a couple days.

It was okay really. Most of the other maintainers really weren't very good company. For some reason The Maker had not seen fit to give them any sort of advanced personality modules. Even his best friend, ARCHCK (or Chuck as FS16K4 liked to call him), only had a short list of programmed responses. And that is why FS16K4 nearly jumped out of his skin when he suddenly received an audio broadcast.

/* Some of what was lost has been found. The map exists. The ship can't hide itself from itself. Find the map. FIND THE BLUEPRINTS. */

The message streamed loud and clear. The blue screen even superimposed itself over his vision while the message played out. /* What a strange message. It came through the Navigator's broadcast channel... but that didn't seem like the Navigator. */ FS16K4 pulled up a sample broadcast from his archive for comparison. /* The Navigator must be distressed! The map must be very important! */ It wasn't long before FS16K4 had completely changed course and was wandering through LowHab.

[Jade_Tarem]

Shelly and Ash and Spectre
March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

Ash tried to get her heart rate under control and watched Shelly take apart the door mechanism like one of the old gritty spy-movie heroes... James Flint? Jason Bond? Something like that. As the trio moved to their backup route, the psychic decided to try something novel and asked politely instead of attempting to read the information. "Okay, Bad Girl, seriously, who are you? And how did you land knee-and-wrist-first from a four meter drop and not break anything? Is it a martial arts thing? Can you teach me to ninja-jump?"

[A Rainy Knight]

March 12,327 Lost Era
Patrol
Noon

Theo felt himself leaning against the side of his seat as Yan took a sharp corner, and he breathed a sigh of relief that he didn't still have a piping-hot mug of coffee to spill.

"Precinct 326, huh?" He considered the question as he silently appreciated Yan's driving maneuvers. Even at these speeds, she wasn't even breaking a sweat... she'd been a pilot before she enlisted, right? "Well, I'd just as soon leave the questions for after everything's said and done!"

He rested his fingers on his old-fashioned scabbard and, for a change of pace, thought about their strategy at Yan's prompting. He certainly didn't have much subtlety to offer, but since they didn't have that much solid information to base a plan on, anyways...

"Let's get in as close to the precinct as we can, assuming we don't spot these terrorists trying to make a getaway along the way. I guess there's a chance we could catch the rogues out on the road, but if they're still holed up in there, I say we find an entrance and go in after them!" He grinned at his partner. "Naturally, I'd be happy to take point."

[Kitsanth]

12th March, 327 LE
Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold

Alex winced in pain as the short woman crashed into his injured arm. Fortunately, he remained standing despite her hitting him with enough force to knock his bags out of his grasp. A half dozen books scattered across the deck and a box of silver-plated cutlery broke open releasing its cargo of knives. Suppressing the urge to scowl, he instead tried the gentlemanly thing and extended his good hand to help the woman up.
"Careful Miss. If you don't watch where you're going you'll end up like me."
With her on her feet again, he knelt down and tried to gather up his fallen possessions, a task needlessly complicated as he had to execute one handed. He muttered a curse as his attempt to open the cutlery box to put the knives back in resulted in the forks joining them on the floor.


-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold


It is difficult to not be impressed by the vast beauty of space. Zyn was captivated by the blue star that Rikki showed him, entirely forgetting for the moment the mayhem which must have occurred in the Treasure Hold earlier. It seemed far to soon that Rikki turned away and began to cease sending him video when she collided with a man who dropped of all things piles of books and silver plated knives. It seemed just like a scene out of that retro animation he was watching earlier. With the collision, Zyn was left 'in the dark' once more.

Rikki! Are you hurt? Zyn sent to Rikki, clearly concerned. He'd barely finished asking the question when the stranger's spilled belongings combined with what he'd seen earlier led him to a clear conclusion. If you're both okay, you should probably assist Michaelis here in procuring all of his silver knives. In a place where a mob would chase an individual, I am not sure his cutlery is safe on the floor. Zyn sent quickly alongside a very old style drawing of a tall charismatic man with red eyes and black hair wearing a black tailcoat. He seemed to be in midjump throwing cutlery.

327 L.E. March 12th
Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold

The crash of cutlery, Zyn, this handsome stranger, the sensation of falling and the crowd - it was all a little too much. Focus, Rikki had to focus. The typical human brain was not designed to handle direct interaction with an artificial construct, but it could learn. And memory augments were intended to be low load, but then most people probably didn't end up with an entity living on theirs. At this moment Zyn was more of a distraction than an aid.

Taking a step back, she breathed. Mentally she placed a wall between herself and the crowd then turned her attention towards Zyn. The video was down and so Rikki sent him an acknowledgement and assurances that she was fine. Then she proceeded to ignore Zyn, dismissing the slight twinge of guilt as she did so. Rikki would have to make it up to him later but right now she needed awareness of her physical surroundings.

She was on her feet again thankfully - hopefully no one she knew had seen her momentary clumsiness, her reputation wouldn't be able to take the hit - and finally looked at the man she had run into. Who was currently scrambling about after his cutlery and clearly of middle to upper class standing. Great, just what she needed. If Grandfather Eridani learned of this... but enough gloomy thoughts, she had to say something before this gentleman came to the conclusion that Rikki was a space-case. Her mental recollection had taken mere seconds thankfully.

"Sorry," Rikki apologised, "momentary dizziness, it's already passing."

Not entirely the truth, still, there no need to mention what had actually happened. The second cutlery crash brought Rikki's attention back to the fact that this man
had already been injured before their encounter and probably would appreciate a hand. And weren't there books involved somehow? Actual printed books, on paper and everything. Looking about she was able to swiftly gather what were hopefully all of his missing books which she then placed in a stack beside him.

Now for his cutlery. "Here, allow me." Rikki knelt down, taking the case from him.

Cutlery for six, spoons still inside but knives and forks had managed to escape. Gathering the scattered utensils was easy enough, well until she counted and realised that she had only recovered 5 knives. One was missing. Rikki knew replacing it would be hard, a glance at the case confirming that thought. Silver-plated. She definitely wouldn't be replacing that, she was the one at fault and so she was responsible. The knife was probably still around here somewhere though. Rikki knew what it felt like when someone stole something, so why hadn't she...? Oh, right. The wall.

So clearly my competence is also taking the day off, she thought ruefully.

Now with her attention focused on her empathy she could feel it. Somewhere close, the curious mix of satisfaction with a twinge of guilt that was so common to opportunistic thieves. And it was there, just on the other side of that kiosk. It looked solid and was currently unattended. Perfect.

"Excuse me." Rikki stated as she stood.

A light stretch was her companion's only warning before she leapt, landing crouched atop the kiosk softly as a cat would. Looking down she saw her thief, knife in hand with a HSD.

Probably mod'd for metals, wondering whether it's solid silver, she thought.

One flip later and with surprise working for her she had both the HSD and knife in had. A little sleight of hand and the scanner disappeared into a pocket. It would be much more useful to her after all. The thief was just getting over his shock, but it was Rikki's day off so before he could react she was back on the kiosk's roof. Where she lounged comfortably.

"Rikki Lowell, at your service." she said to the man she had run into, finally introducing herself. "Oh, and I found the knife."

And for some reason she was now associating this random stranger with a butler... oh, right, Zyn. With an internal wince Rikki turned her attention back to his space. He was probably miffed.

Ignoring him right after I get into a situation, yeah... bad move, she thought.

And so she directed his way a summary of what had just happened - embellishing her encounter with the petty thief a little - along with a rueful apology along the lines of promising to do her best to keep Zyn in the loop during similar situations and noting that they needed more practice in this sort of area.

[omnitricks]

Sunny and Blitz
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Noonish
The Rustbucket

Eyeing the girl as he was sizing her up, Blitz finally said "right. A security consultant over here. With that sort of a get up." Blitz knew people who introduced themselves as security consultants coming from places like this and ""if you're a security consultant then I'm an officer."

He would have added honest but then that would've been too much, not that he approved or how smart she was trying to be. Made him feel like an idiot.

"Well if that is your briefcase, then why don't you open it?" Blitz finally asked. It would be a win-win situation for him. If she couldn't open it he could call him out and make whatever he did fair game and if she did open it, Blitz would be able to make a better decision if he wanted to go through the trouble to snatch her case or go looking for his.

[Snowfire]

March 12, 327LE
Afternoon
Substrate Interaction Node 'Kernel'

The Substrate was, as far as Kira was aware, a level of the Datasphere that no one but the first-wave Immersives had ever discovered, and when it had, it had shaken their worldview to the core. Even now, the idea that they were the only ones who really did know almost beggared belief, but there it was. Yet however much it hurt in some ways to admit it, it made sense. Immersives saw their digital second home in a way others, not even traditional Coderunners, did. And the secret of the Substrate was at its core, a contextual one. A secret upheld through a missing piece of perception that none but the Immersives held. Something that you would only see if you had grown from childhood interacting with the Datasphere, which traditional Coderunners certainly didn't.

In layman's terms, the Substrate acted as the translation point between the many different perceptions through which the Aeternus's inhabitants interacted with her infonet. This made it understandably hard to get to, assuming you were even aware of its existence as something that could be more than simply...well, a point. As far as they were aware, no one had ever pushed beyond that before the first-wave Immersives stumbled upon its existence quite by accident. Coderunners had delved deep into the Datasphere in the century since their creation, but they were limited by the...merely human perceptual bias that had grown with access to the five sense that were taken so much for granted. Immersives were anything but limited in that manner.

The first-wave Immersives, Lea and her fellows, had discovered the Substrate shortly before their graduation into the ranks of the Coderunners. They'd tried to explain it to their teachers, but the idea fell too far outside of even Coderunner biases, and so they'd taken it upon themselves to chart and secure this new 'level' of the Datasphere that was so different to all others. They'd built digital waystations within it, around the already present interaction nodes that translated the infonet's data for its various perceptual outputs, and in that way it was much alike to the Datasphere that connected through it. Yet the Substrate and the SIN were special in two ways that no other discovered section of the 'sphere was. Each was in part an answer to the truly 'impossible' things that Immersives were capable of. The first had led directly to their ability to 'crack' Alias, and could theoretically allow even more, but deeper study of the issue beyond the theoretical had been banned by common agreement amongst the Immersives after a rash experiment almost destroyed one of the SIN nodes. They'd managed to fix the internal degradation before it got too far, but it had been far too close a thing to risk a repeat.

All data on the ship passed through the Substrate, and the SIN, where they were translated to be usable by the many perceptions through which the crew and passengers experienced it the 'net. Yet more than that, all data was altered, however subtly, as it passed through. To do that, the SIN had to be capable of overriding hard-code restrictions. A translation was, in the end, a change. And with the right protocols, it was possible to alter those changes, ever so slightly. Yet as powerful a tool it was, it was one used sparingly - and by agreement never for personal gain. For all their youth, the Immersives were the sons and daughters of Coderunners, and as their families took their responsibilities seriously so too did they. It was possible, in fact, that the Immersives took them even more seriously. A Coderunner does not grow to adulthood knowing a world that could be destroyed if they do not defend it. And they were still few enough in number that no degree of carelessness had managed to find a way into their interactions.

The Substrate Interaction Nodes were all carefully watched by Immersive-designed programs, to ensure that none abused the abilities that their biological gifts had given them. The few who had had been barred from the Substrate, and locked out of the routes to the SIN until they redeemed themselves. Their numbers could be counted on one hand. For although the first special quality of the SIN might be useful, if only for small things, it was the second one that had played a large part in making the Immersives' their name.

If you knew how to access the Substrate, and your way to the (now carefully mapped) SIN, you could reach them from anywhere in the Datasphere. No lag. No loadtime. And that went against everything that Coderunner perception said about the Datasphere. Except...Coderunner perception was based on that of a five-sense human. The Mindcast implants had been specifically designed to work with the human mind to create a perception that they could function inside of without going insane. The implications of this were still being worked out by the Immersive community, and it didn't help that they couldn't exactly talk to their parents and superiors about it. It just didn't translate. So they'd taken their duty as guards for the Datasphere and applied it to the Substrate as well - the name they'd found hidden in some of the internal reference files accessible through the SIN. And yet as they'd mapped and secured their watch, they'd discovered a final thing that they had hesitated at first to even voice between each other. The Substrate, and the SIN, were old. Quite possibly older than the Lost Era itself.

But questions as to who and why were the last thing on Kira's mind as she followed the now familiar - to her - path into the Substrate. She still remembered when she'd discovered it herself, for the Substrate was something that you had to find by yourself. And there was a reason for that, too. Introducing a Coderunner trained Immersive to the Substrate had almost killed three people before the Immersive community itself had started leaving it to be discovered. The reason was that that a purely human perceptual basis within the Substrate was...dangerous. The translation centers at the core of the SINs were exceptionally dangerous to a Mindcasting human. Given the danger, it was considered by many a miracle that they'd only had the three incidents, none of them fatal. But once you were in, other Immersives would see you, and a whole new training process would begin. It took far less time, but it was far more important. Coderunner perceptions in the Datasphere wouldn't kill you. Coderunner perceptions in the Substrate would.

"Lea?" She asked as she dropped into the Kernel watchroom. She'd known that she'd be here, she always was as soon as she could clear the Slipspace reversion protocols.

"Yes Kira?" Lea was always busy, yet somehow she also always had time for any Immersive who needed to talk to her. And Kira's presence in the Substrate very clearly needed to talk to someone. "What is it?"

"We need to tal-"

The moment shattered as unknown commands suddenly erupted into existence on the monitors around the SIN. Kira gasped as she saw them, Lea jerking to her 'feet' at the sight.

"Later. Come on." And she dived from their perch into the suddenly roiling Substrate below them, heading for the origin point of the messages. Kira took a moment to look over the monitors, and her eyes flew wide as she realised what she was seeing, before hurling herself after Lea. What she'd just seen there was impossible...or at least as far as she knew it was. There were still so many things...

"LEA!" The message scorched down her friend's datapath, and Kira wasn't caring about making this message subtle. She needed to stop her. "The code is coming from inside the translation center! Stop!" She dropped between several nonessential data-streams, riding the 'momentum' that she'd gathered and flung herself towards the translation center, volleying messages out to the other SIN as she did so. Immersives were often single-minded in their pursuit of mysteries, but right now that single-mindedness might kill one of them. No way was she going to let that happen. She could see Lea's datapath in front of her, her own message closing slowly...too slowly, and...damnit. What was she meant to do. If she went any faster she wouldn't be able to stop. And, wait. That was it. She turned, using the flow of another datapath to cut the angle, and then let go.

The Substrate blurred around her as she shot across it, closing in on Lea, and she slammed into her virtual decimeters from the opening to the translation center, sending them both careening away. Kira reached up, grabbing for a datastream to slow them down, and then looked down to see Lea glaring at her.

"What the hell was that? I almost -"

"You were almost dead! Didn't you see where you were going?"" Kira gestured fiercely back the way they'd come, where she'd redirected Lea. The Immersive's face paled.

"How the hell is that even-"

"The hell if I know. But it means that we're probably the only ones that can trace it in the Datasphere. It won't translate for the others." She nodded. And then my link pinged her. She was being called. Who would...oh. Damien. Crap, she needed to take that. "Lea, I have a call I need to take. I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

"And we'll be waiting. All of us." Kira blinked, stunned for a moment at the sudden force behind Lea's words, then nodded. This was a problem that the rest of the Coderunners probably wouldn't be able to follow. That left it to the Immersives. Our first real challenge. Theirs had been for the sake of the ship, but who was to say this wasn't as big.

"I'll talk with Ollie about it if you like, I think he might remember me."

"Omega? Go for it, we're going to need an Engineer for this" She smiled slightly at her as they parted, the kind gesture marred by the worry in her eyes, then shot back up towards the monitoring station. "Thanks, Kira."

"...anytime." And she vanished back out of the Substrate, to pick up the call.



March 12, 327LE -=Mid-Day=-
Damien "Dreamweaver" Romero
Damien's Flat (Deck 96)/VR; [Closed Instance: Escherwave.ins]

Damien was at home after his errands, logged in VR as he just took time to play with Merlin in a favorite construction of his; full of Escher-esque impossible structures specially coded to not lock someone in a recursive loop, but actually lead them wherever the structure was supposed to terminate. He needed this. Between the explosive anger of his would-be client at being told that the Dreamweaver wouldn't write for him, and finding out that his episode in the coffee shop was legitimate, he REALLY needed an escape. The bright pastels, bizarre floating geometrics, and gentle, downsampled oldies echoed through this abstraction; it was one of his first that he continuously worked on, and truly loved; but in an idle moment of just floating along the vibes his abstraction produced, he found something else to be panicked about today. Or more like, it found him. Typically, he liked to keep his Infonet notifications to silent. If it was important, he'd read up on it later, but there was no reason for his everything to start blaring. Except, whatever it was that was coming through his supposedly closed network-- it was bypassing his local settings. The sky faded from its gentle, pastel cyan to the dead-cerulean color that sometimes overtook viewscreens that had stopped broadcasting; and a voice boomed out across the abstraction as black lettering flashed against the sky.

"Never forget... Never forget what? What's all this slag about maps and blueprints?" Damien was confused; and in him, confusion rarely if ever lasted long. His fingers began twitching, and a translucent viewport opened as he opened a chat link between himself and Kira, the first person that could have come to mind with something like this happening. "Kira, did you see that? Never mind the fact that whatever that was managed bypassing my local settings and was loud as hell; but what could that have possibly been? It wasn't the Navigator, that's for damn sure... Did someone let a rogue AI into the public Infonet or something?" Damien grimaced as he touched down, his eyebrows furrowing with worry. "If someone's blackhatting around in Dark-Sim, down in the lowest, oldest archives, there's no reason to broadcast so wide unless that someone is in direct opposition to the Navigator. The odds of it being a meatspace hacker are incredibly low; otherwise I'd likely have already known who did it, but at the same time, if a rogue AI stronger than what local ordinances allow for, there would have been safeguards for that, right?"

The link took several long seconds to connect, far longer than was usual with Kira, and when it cleared she almost more focused and yet also distracted then he'd ever seen her.

"Safeguards, yes, but not for what who or whatever sent that did." Kira replied almost absently, linking into the line she'd been given several years ago after helping clear Ollie. "It...Damien, this is Corps level stuff." Her tone was apologetic. "Either I bring you into it, which I wouldn't object to but you might, or I'm going to have to explain when I can." Later, was the implication, although she didn't say it. Kira paused for a moment, then shrugged.

"It would be a steady paycheck for the duration, and due to the nature of this we - as in the Immersives - are going to have to be running most of the show, but in the end it's up to you. But, um," she smiled hesitantly, the look probably considerably more charming (or cute, she wasn't going to be able to tell the difference) then she thought it was, "I'd really prefer to have you working with us on this one, Damien. It's not as if you're going to let something like this go." She held back on calling Ollie for now, instead flashing a text message down the link to get his attention. They were going to need an Engineer for the hardware side.

Chief Ahberon,

We met several years ago, I was the Coderunner who helped clear you from suspicion during the Marionette killings. You said then that if I truly needed your help, this was the number to call. I hope that this will not be seen as misuse.

No doubt you have, as all aboard, seen and heard the message that came down through the 'net. There is a task force being assembled to track it down as we speak, and we need an Engineer for the hardware side if we're going to do that properly. I appreciate that you and yours are beset right now, but we need the best, and you're the best I know. I'm not going to make this any sort of demand or order. Simply...please. Regardless of where the search might lead, whatever did this exhibited a degree of control over levels of the Datasphere far outisde the norm and that is dangerous. We will track it through the 'sphere, but there's a limit to how far that goes.

This is probably going to be classified as a Coderunner Authority situation, Ollie. You know what that means. Nothing but the Navigator will be able to tell us no, so long as our needs are comparative to the threat.

Coderunner Kira Tsumantso

[HalfTangible]

Sunny and Blitz
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Noonish
The Rustbucket

Eyeing the girl as he was sizing her up, Blitz finally said "right. A security consultant over here. With that sort of a get up." Blitz knew people who introduced themselves as security consultants coming from places like this and ""if you're a security consultant then I'm an officer.""We all gotta start somewhere." She pointed to his glider. "And officers don't get rides nearly that cool."


He would have added honest but then that would've been too much, not that he approved or how smart she was trying to be. Made him feel like an idiot.

"Well if that is your briefcase, then why don't you open it?" Blitz finally asked. It would be a win-win situation for him. If she couldn't open it he could call him out and make whatever he did fair game and if she did open it, Blitz would be able to make a better decision if he wanted to go through the trouble to snatch her case or go looking for his.

"Why? So you can snatch off my stuff and go sell it off?" She growled, hugging the briefcase tight to her chest.

... Oh. It did have a physical port. Neat. That would come in handy.

Actually... She mused, a sly grin crossing her face. I could use some help with this, come to think of it... Try and go alone with a score this big, you'll get yourself hurt... And I ain't exactly a fighter. I could use a bodyguard. Gears turned quickly in her head.

[Netjester]

March 12, 327LE
Afternoon
Substrate Interaction Node 'Kernel'

The link took several long seconds to connect, far longer than was usual with Kira, and when it cleared she almost more focused and yet also distracted then he'd ever seen her.

"Safeguards, yes, but not for what who or whatever sent that did." Kira replied almost absently, linking into the line she'd been given several years ago after helping clear Ollie. "It...Damien, this is Corps level stuff." Her tone was apologetic. "Either I bring you into it, which I wouldn't object to but you might, or I'm going to have to explain when I can." Later, was the implication, although she didn't say it. Kira paused for a moment, then shrugged.

"It would be a steady paycheck for the duration, and due to the nature of this we - as in the Immersives - are going to have to be running most of the show, but in the end it's up to you. But, um," she smiled hesitantly, the look probably considerably more charming (or cute, she wasn't going to be able to tell the difference) then she thought it was, "I'd really prefer to have you working with us on this one, Damien. It's not as if you're going to let something like this go." She held back on calling Ollie for now, instead flashing a text message down the link to get his attention. They were going to need an Engineer for the hardware side.



March 12, 327LE -=Mid-Day=-
Merlin.pers
Damien's Flat (Deck 96)/VR; [Closed Instance: Escherwave.ins]

Worry; creator looks mildly distraught. Solution: distract him. The VR feline's fuzzy-logic processing kicked in at the sight of his creator's eyebrows twitching, the meticulously crafted persona that Damien used in VR showing his glowing braids flaring bright, canary yellow. Interrupt; hunger. Override. Prime Directive is creator's well-being. He purred softly, rubbing against the crosslegged form of his creator, mewling in quiet discontent. He was... Hungry? Merlin had to wonder what that subroutine was for before shaking his head, sure that his creator gave it to him for some reason or another.

Damien looked down for a second, his fingers brushing idly through the rendered fur on Merlin's head as he continued talking into the bright pane in front of him; eliciting further purrs from the feline. He was never too sure why, but that, and the base of his tail were capable of literally overriding everything other than making him flop over and meow plaintively. Deep down in his lowest subroutines, he loved it, and he again, wasn't sure why. Maybe one day he'd find out. Worry; creator is STILL distracted and distraught. Solution: ...??

Merlin meowed again before Damien looked down again, shaking his head and flicking his fingers, a flock of birds fluttering across the "ground" of the instance. Excitement! Birds! I'm gonna catch one! The feline scampered towards the flock before pouncing atop one, gnawing idly at it. Elation; I caught a bird! I'm gonna give it to-- He turned, with his prize between his sharp teeth; before looking where Damien used to be. Merlin's ears dipped; and he curled up with the bird still between his teeth. Override. I will wait.


March 12, 327LE -=Mid-Day=-
Damien "Dreamweaver" Romero
Damien's Flat (Deck 96)/VR; [Closed Instance: Escherwave.ins]

"So you mean to tell me that whatever that was... Is something that either hasn't been seen before, or has been seen, but not often enough for safeguards to be built around it?" The fiberoptic filigree in Damien's braids flared yellow, glowing bright with growing unease. This isn't good. This isn't good at all. He rubbed his face with his hands, ignoring Merlin trotting up to him for the time being as his fingers began to twitch. "Me cago en todo..." He hissed through clenched teeth in a variant of Old Speech learned from his father, the implants only growing brighter as his unease mounted further. A Coderunner, moreover, an Immersive didn't even know what the hell that was.

And as soon as she said it was Corps level drek, all of the color drained out of his face. This is really fraggin' bad... The entire ship might be slotted if it's this bad... And then she started going on about bringing him INTO it. Actively working an issue with... "Working with Immersives. Kira, you know about me. You were there when my father told me I had manifested my first ability. There can't be a legal precedent for me taking this on with you and a handful of other Coderunners..." His eyebrows furrowed for a second, and then his first instincts started practically screaming at him.

How often has she ever come through for you, Damien? Kira's literally been friends with you since you could walk! Your father used to work with hers on the same damn jobs! You're not honestly about to tell her you're NOT gonna work on this! Merlin meowed, rubbing against his knee as the abstractionist was jerked from his internal schism for a second, idly running his fingers through the cat's fur before looking at the viewport again. Oh, frag all, she's doing that absolutely adorable smiling thing again. Seriously, class 5 Esper, abstraction fraggin' virtuoso, and I'm folding like I have so many years before. Suns damn you, Kira.

He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands again. He knew he wasn't able to feel sweat from the VR chair he had put together, but that didn't change the fact that he felt like he should have been sweating. It is a steady check, though... For however long this lasts. "I'm probably right fragged in the exhaust slot for saying this, Kira, but this really can't be ignored. Count me in. Let me know what you need, I'll see what can be done."

He clapped his hands, sending a flock of birds in the opposite direction of Merlin, watching him tear after them with a fond look on his face before closing the video link, pulling up a direct interface pane with Le Fay. I need to be taken to MeditationChamber.ins, LeFay.

Of course, Dreamweaver.

The colors and renderings seemed to melt away before the dojo he came to meditate in began rendering around him. He dropped to his knees, looking up at the statue in front of him; for once, managing to meet his eyes. It seemed like even before his father's death, once the pair knew that Damien was an Esper, and therefore ineligible to become a Coderunner, it was like his father viewed him as... Less.

"Would you have made the same choice in my position, Dad? I've never felt more unsure of myself until now; but the ship is possibly in danger. I can't ignore this... At least, I don't think. I wish I knew what you would have done, knowing this."

[TheDarkDM]

Shelly and Ash and Spectre
March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

Passing the first of the interrogation rooms, Shelly turned to look at Ash. The psychic's question was met with a rueful laugh, after which Shelly paused.

"I told you, I don't know who I am. And I don't know how I did what I did back in the Treasure Hold. It's all a blur. I think I'll remember this, but I couldn't tell you how I knew where that panel was or how to get to the main room. Or how I know a cred stick as valuable as the one with your bounty on it requires triple confirmation to re-issue if it's been wiped, so it's probably still loaded with my information and on the sergeant's desk."

Another interrogation room, and the sounds of a panicked conversation began to filter down the hallway.

"At this point, Ash, all I know is that I can't stay here and let PALADIN process me. Your guess is as good as mine as to why."

The trio of criminals finally exited the Interrogation Wing, coming face to face with the door that led to the main room and reception. Reaching to the door controls, Shelly's hand froze and she turned to the other two with a flash of her old sincerity.

"Stand back. And be careful."

He finger, impeccable nail still unblemished, pressed against the door control and the smooth blue plastic slid back with a hiss...

...only to reveal the blinking face of a squat young woman struggling to strap a riot helmet into place. There was a sharp intake of breath, a baring of teeth, the hint of a scream, but before it could escape her lips Shelly had grabbed her by the collar and pulled her through the doorway, throwing her helmeted head into the wall with a crack. The stunned guard groaned, and the five PALADIN officers still inside the main bullpen turned in alarm. Without turning to look at her companions, Shelly shouted as she dove through the door.

"Handle her!"

She was five steps inside the room when she reached the first PALADIN, a dauntingly tall man with a shock of red hair in a buzzcut. His helmet and body armor were still on a nearby desk, but he didn't hesitate to draw his shock baton and make a lunge for her.

> Superior reach - close distance and disable

Launching herself forward, Shelly passed by the PALADIN's outstretched baton and took hold of his wrist in an iron grip. Her left hand shot out twice, followed by the sickly sound of shattering bone as she crushed his elbow and scapula. The PALADIN screamed in pain, only to be answered by a wordless cry of rage from his approaching colleague. This one was a stark contrast to his friend, a slight man who had managed to fully secure his body armor and helmet.

> Armored target - leverage low mass to incapacitate

Shelly spun with a blur, planting her leg behind the officer she was holding and pulling him by his useless arm, whipping him over her shoulder in a judo throw and sending him head-first into the new attacker. The smaller man could only manage an ineffective sidestep before being swept off his feet by the force of the impact, as both of them flew into and through a cubicle partition to collapse in a pile on the floor.

Shelly's throw brought her within range of two more of the officers, one a blonde woman in body armor, the other a pockmarked man who had clearly shoved the woman's helmet on his head rather than retrieving his own. It would have been comical if they hadn't come at her together, shock batons swinging high and low to cut off her dodge.

> Numerically superior attack - evade and disarm inferior combatant

Using the momentum of her throw Shelly launched herself into the air, spinning between the arcs of the two shock batons and landing between the two dumbfounded PALADIN officers. Stepping inside the unarmored man's reach, her hands found his shoulder and elbow, forcing the end of his shock baton into his unprotected side. Lightning arched from the primed baton and the officer's muscles went rigid as he seized before collapsing into unconsciousness. The female officer had recovered from her swing though, and she raised her baton for a devastating chop. Before she could follow through, Shelly's hand darted out to grab the business end of the collapsing guard's baton and spun into a whistling slash at the officer's unprotected face. Blood and teeth flew as the butt of the baton met the officer's mouth, and a kick from Shelly sent her skidding away.

The only remaining PALADIN was the desk sergeant who had processed her and Ash, whose incredulous stare had robbed precious seconds from his reaction to the sudden crisis. That all dissipated as Shelly recovered from her kick, and he reached not for a stun baton but for an arc rifle stored in the central desk.

> Ranged target - maintain distance and neutralize

Flipping her baton into the proper grip, Shelly jammed her thumb into the charge control so hard it jumped to the highest setting. The baton emitted a high-pitched whine, and as lightning began to crackle along its exterior Shelly threw it at the sergeant. He managed to level the barrel of his rifle at her before he saw the spinning disk of ionized blue hurtling towards him, but before he could take his shot the baton struck his chest. He spasmed violently, throwing himself backwards and releasing a errant shot into a nearby wall, before collapsing out of sight.

> Threats eliminated - 0.00% casualties

Without breaking stride, Shelly sprinted the rest of the way to the booking desk where the Sergeant lay in a twitching heap. She spared him an apologetic glance before turning her attention to the desk itself, where a slim black credit chit still stood in its loading dock. Leaning over the terminal controls, Shelly began typing with mechanical precision.

> Request: Display credit balance
...
...
...
> Balance: 10,000 RC
> Manifest Imprint: None
> Alternative Imprint Accepted
> Imprint: Alias "Shelly"

Beneath her assumed name was a detailed digital scan of Shelly's face. Nowhere near the best security on Aeternus, but the best that could be done for someone who didn't exist in the system.

> Request: Complete Transfer
...
...
...
> Provide Biometric Confirmation

Reaching down, Shelly took hold of the sergeant's arm and brought his hand up to the terminal's palm scanner.

"Sorry about this..."

> Confirmation Recognized: Sergeant Alfred Farrow
> Transfer Complete

There was a hum from the terminal and a mechanical click as the credit chit slid from its port and into Shelly's hand. Holding it above her, she turned back towards Ash and Spectre.

"We've got it! Let's get out of here!"

[BlueHerring]

Omega Ollie
March 12, 327 LE
Nearing the Engineering Bay
Afternoon

Looking around, and listening to the chatter around him, Ollie realized that it wasn't just a local broadcast; everyone had received the same message. It really was ship wide. This... this was a huge problem. But one with certain implications.

"Blue, I don't think anyone didn't get that message. The question is, how many of them will actually bother with it? I mean, a map of the ship would be nice - black holes, do I want it - but how many regular residents will feel like it's important?" Oliver started walking again, seeing the Engineering Bay doors in the distance. "I mean, what would a regular resident do with a complete map? Hand it over to the Officer Corps? If that happens, Mum will pull strings and we'll get it; or at least a copy. I'm worried about some fool idiot gang member or black hat absconding with it before we get our eyes on it. Programmer Hells, I'm worried about this being just a wild goose chase. In fact..."

The doors to the Bay in front of him, Ollie stepped inside. Everyone was looking a little stunned, but a few engineers were at least trying to do work. Others were not, and were still staring at their blank screens and communicators.

"What does this look like to you, a jaw dropping contest? Get back to work! Treat this as a goose chase, till we have more information!" Ollie yelled out, and then went looking for Vega as the Engineering Bay exploded once more with activity. Finding Andrew's station, Oliver stood over him, glaring. It was... almost friendly. At least, the glare didn't seem like it was aimed at Vega.

As though they hadn't stopped talking, and Ollie hadn't hung up on him a few seconds ago, he continued, "My question now, Blue, is what do you expect to do about it?"
Andrew Vega
March 12, 327 LE
Engineering Bay
Afternoon

"What do I expect to do about it? Honestly, it's pretty damn low on my list of priorities. I haven't slept properly for the past three weeks because of the damn magnetic boot glitch, I haven't had a drink during that time, and my apartment's a complete mess. I haven't had time to drop in to see my folks, or talked to my brother lately, so this doesn't really register very highly on my list."

Andrew drew in a deep breath, and his expression changed to something more serious.

"Or at least, that's what I'd say if anyone else asked me about something else. This is serious. Regardless of whether or not we agree with it, some sectors need to remain Dark. The fusion drive was built when the ship left Earth, and it can't be overhauled. No one but the Navigator knows how old the damn drive is, but it shows. We can't support a growing population on the ship without shutting off some nonessential areas. I may not like it, but that's the way it is. What we've got now is someone who wants a map, and I sure as hell bet it isn't for scholarly purposes. They've got an agenda, and that's what worries me. Even if they're misguided and have good intentions, if they turn on something that the power can't handle, we're looking at a massive catastrophe."

Andrew opened the lid on the second cup of coffee sitting on the table, and took a long sip from it. He needed it, especially if he was going to continue working today.

"So, if you're up for pulling together people to figure out what this is all about, you can count me in. I'm pretty sure that PALADIN will contact the Bay about this soon, at any rate."

[Elemental]

327 L.E. March 12th
Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold

The crash of cutlery, Zyn, this handsome stranger, the sensation of falling and the crowd - it was all a little too much. Focus, Rikki had to focus. The typical human brain was not designed to handle direct interaction with an artificial construct, but it could learn. And memory augments were intended to be low load, but then most people probably didn't end up with an entity living on theirs. At this moment Zyn was more of a distraction than an aid.

Taking a step back, she breathed. Mentally she placed a wall between herself and the crowd then turned her attention towards Zyn. The video was down and so Rikki sent him an acknowledgement and assurances that she was fine. Then she proceeded to ignore Zyn, dismissing the slight twinge of guilt as she did so. Rikki would have to make it up to him later but right now she needed awareness of her physical surroundings.

She was on her feet again thankfully - hopefully no one she knew had seen her momentary clumsiness, her reputation wouldn't be able to take the hit - and finally looked at the man she had run into. Who was currently scrambling about after his cutlery and clearly of middle to upper class standing. Great, just what she needed. If Grandfather Eridani learned of this... but enough gloomy thoughts, she had to say something before this gentleman came to the conclusion that Rikki was a space-case. Her mental recollection had taken mere seconds thankfully.

"Sorry," Rikki apologised, "momentary dizziness, it's already passing."

Not entirely the truth, still, there no need to mention what had actually happened. The second cutlery crash brought Rikki's attention back to the fact that this man
had already been injured before their encounter and probably would appreciate a hand. And weren't there books involved somehow? Actual printed books, on paper and everything. Looking about she was able to swiftly gather what were hopefully all of his missing books which she then placed in a stack beside him.

Now for his cutlery. "Here, allow me." Rikki knelt down, taking the case from him.

Cutlery for six, spoons still inside but knives and forks had managed to escape. Gathering the scattered utensils was easy enough, well until she counted and realised that she had only recovered 5 knives. One was missing. Rikki knew replacing it would be hard, a glance at the case confirming that thought. Silver-plated. She definitely wouldn't be replacing that, she was the one at fault and so she was responsible. The knife was probably still around here somewhere though. Rikki knew what it felt like when someone stole something, so why hadn't she...? Oh, right. The wall.

So clearly my competence is also taking the day off, she thought ruefully.

Now with her attention focused on her empathy she could feel it. Somewhere close, the curious mix of satisfaction with a twinge of guilt that was so common to opportunistic thieves. And it was there, just on the other side of that kiosk. It looked solid and was currently unattended. Perfect.

"Excuse me." Rikki stated as she stood.

A light stretch was her companion's only warning before she leapt, landing crouched atop the kiosk softly as a cat would. Looking down she saw her thief, knife in hand with a HSD.

Probably mod'd for metals, wondering whether it's solid silver, she thought.

One flip later and with surprise working for her she had both the HSD and knife in had. A little sleight of hand and the scanner disappeared into a pocket. It would be much more useful to her after all. The thief was just getting over his shock, but it was Rikki's day off so before he could react she was back on the kiosk's roof. Where she lounged comfortably.

"Rikki Lowell, at your service." she said to the man she had run into, finally introducing herself. "Oh, and I found the knife."

And for some reason she was now associating this random stranger with a butler... oh, right, Zyn. With an internal wince Rikki turned her attention back to his space. He was probably miffed.

Ignoring him right after I get into a situation, yeah... bad move, she thought.

And so she directed his way a summary of what had just happened - embellishing her encounter with the petty thief a little - along with a rueful apology along the lines of promising to do her best to keep Zyn in the loop during similar situations and noting that they needed more practice in this sort of area.


12th March, 327 LE
Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold

It had happened rather quickly. First the woman was apologising for her dizziness and helping him with his things and the next she was presenting him with a recovered knife and offering her services. His implants sent a flickering slowed replay to his visual cortex. He winced at the unwanted intrusion to his thoughts and brought his good hand up to shield his eyes from the lights and colours of the Treasure Hold momentarily. Still, he could not help but admire her acrobatic talents and quick thinking.
"That's a lot of effort to recover a single knife."
He took the knife back and added it to the others in the box.
"Under normal circumstances I'd do something to repay your assistance but I'm afraid I must return home and rest my arm."
As he spoke, he rummaged around in one of the pockets of his coat and took a card out of a little case and offered it to Rikki.
"Feel free to call at any time if you need anything. My answering service would be happy to take your call."

[Nefarion Xid]

Shelly and Ash and Spectre
March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

"Is there some super hero summer camp on the ship that I don't know about?" Spectre shouts futility as he trails along behind Shelly. "My guidance counselor never mentioned 'ninja' was a valid career!" The irony wasn't lost on the man in the black suit with the power of invisibility.

He pauses, tapping twice on the comm unit on the side of his helmet. "The birthday party has already called in backup and they're cordoning off the block right now."

[Gengy]

Chief Ahberon,

We met several years ago, I was the Coderunner who helped clear you from suspicion during the Marionette killings. You said then that if I truly needed your help, this was the number to call. I hope that this will not be seen as misuse.

No doubt you have, as all aboard, seen and heard the message that came down through the 'net. There is a task force being assembled to track it down as we speak, and we need an Engineer for the hardware side if we're going to do that properly. I appreciate that you and yours are beset right now, but we need the best, and you're the best I know. I'm not going to make this any sort of demand or order. Simply...please. Regardless of where the search might lead, whatever did this exhibited a degree of control over levels of the Datasphere far outisde the norm and that is dangerous. We will track it through the 'sphere, but there's a limit to how far that goes.

This is probably going to be classified as a Coderunner Authority situation, Ollie. You know what that means. Nothing but the Navigator will be able to tell us no, so long as our needs are comparative to the threat.

Coderunner Kira Tsumantso


"What do I expect to do about it? Honestly, it's pretty damn low on my list of priorities. I haven't slept properly for the past three weeks because of the damn magnetic boot glitch, I haven't had a drink during that time, and my apartment's a complete mess. I haven't had time to drop in to see my folks, or talked to my brother lately, so this doesn't really register very highly on my list."

Andrew drew in a deep breath, and his expression changed to something more serious.

"Or at least, that's what I'd say if anyone else asked me about something else. This is serious. Regardless of whether or not we agree with it, some sectors need to remain Dark. The fusion drive was built when the ship left Earth, and it can't be overhauled. No one but the Navigator knows how old the damn drive is, but it shows. We can't support a growing population on the ship without shutting off some nonessential areas. I may not like it, but that's the way it is. What we've got now is someone who wants a map, and I sure as hell bet it isn't for scholarly purposes. They've got an agenda, and that's what worries me. Even if they're misguided and have good intentions, if they turn on something that the power can't handle, we're looking at a massive catastrophe."

Andrew opened the lid on the second cup of coffee sitting on the table, and took a long sip from it. He needed it, especially if he was going to continue working today.

"So, if you're up for pulling together people to figure out what this is all about, you can count me in. I'm pretty sure that PALADIN will contact the Bay about this soon, at any rate."

March 12, 327 LE
Engineering Bay
Afternoon

"I have my suspicions on where the drive is, but... yes, I'd damn well love confirmation. Then maybe I could convince Mum or the Captain to let me go there." What Ollie didn't say out loud was that if he had confirmation and a map to the slip space engines or the fusion drive that powered things, he'd go there with or without permission. Permission would be nice, though.

Just then, Ollie's datapad pinged. It could have been Mum. Ollie was keeping her informed of everything he knew. It could also be his contact in the Officer Corps proper. The poor fellow was actually being paid to be the 'Omega Liaison'. Officer Westerlund wasn't very prominent, but Ollie kept him busy... something that Oliver regretted, occasionally, on his better days. It could even have been Steve, from earlier today. Or Damien, yelling at Ollie for the empathy-inducing-outburst that happened before meeting Steve.

It could have been any number of people.

It was not one of the people Oliver expected it to be. He frowned, as he read the message, holding a finger up to forestall anyone - Blue or any other Engineer - from bothering him. Then Oliver did something that bothered quite a few Engineers. Soon, the whole Bay was looking up at Chief Ahberon, and Engineer Joseph Rumel was gaping, mouth wide open and for once, silent.

Oliver smiled. Then, he started laughing. His cheeks were a rosy red, and his whole face was flush with excitement. He danced a little jig, holding his data pad up like it was a refined lady that he was swinging around the dance floor. He began to hum and sing a little, to a tune that no one really recognized, and when he finally realized what was going on, he stopped and looked out at the Bay to all the Engineers staring at him. Besides the wild reports and beeps from control panels, no other sounds were being made, so his voice was clearly heard as, still smiling, Ollie said, "SUCH A FINE DAY, ISN'T IT MR. RUMEL?"

"Err... Yes sir?" Rumel said uncertainly from his place down on the main floor.

"FINE FINE day." A huge grin plastered on Ollie's face, he looked around and said, to no one in particular, "Get back to work!"

The Bay suddenly exploded in activity once more, as every Engineer was suddenly reminded that they had better things to do then watch Chief Ahberon dance around, laughing and smiling. In fact, they did not want to be the one who spoiled his mood. Ollie walked back, and looked down at Blue, still giggling a little. "Blue, you were right. We did get contacted. Officer Corps just sent me a message. Or rather, a member of a section of Officer Corpse did! Do you know that some of my favorite magic words on this whole asteroid-pocked ship are? Do you know what the words 'Coderunner Authority Situation' mean, Vega?"

If Andrew were going to respond, Ollie didn't care. It was apparently a rhetorical question, as Oliver kept talking. "It means as close to full clearance as I'm going to get. It means I get full run of the ship, and only the Captain, Mum, and the blasted rust bucket can stop me. And if they want to? They have to do it personally. Due to the nature of the difficulty - what with this recent bit of cyber-hacking - I can't accept substitutes. I must speak with them in person, which for the ship's most busted AI? That'd mean I'd have to go to the primary terminal for the Navigator, if it objected.

THAT'S why 'Coderunner Authority Situation' are such magical words. And since you volunteered, guess who gets to help me? YOU DO. You get to help me. Now, don't you agree, today's a fine, fine day?"

All the while, joy in his eyes, a chuckle in his throat, and happiness in his heart for the first time in a while, Ollie was typing away at a return message to Coderunner Kira. It was very simple.

Coderunner Kira,

Of course I remember you! How could I forget such a wonderful person. I'd be pleased as punch to help you.

I've even got an additional volunteer from EHMC, in case we need to go out space-walking. If we remain in-ship, he's still an engineer that I trust not to screw up too badly.

Shall we meet somewhere, and discuss our first steps?

-Oliver Ahberon

[Jade_Tarem]

Shelly and Ash and Spectre
March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

"I blame the schools," Ash muttered tapping at her wrist-comp as she spoke, calling up a black-market internal navigation program, "And I have a seething hatred for guidance counselors. All 'oh, you'll never be an engineer because being psychic during the SAT is apparently cheating, but consider taking up a career as an artist.' Screw 'em..." She examined the map of the block and checked - Spectre was right, the entire thing was getting locked down quickly. If she had her plasma-edge, they could...

...but there was no point in longing for what might have been. Instead, she considered the unconscious PALADIN officers around them. A disguise might be helpful, but they might not have the time for that. Trying to hijack one of the PALADIN vehicles might work, but it might backfire fatally and would get them in even more trouble whether it worked or not. The only sure thing was that hesitation would doom them either way. "Anyway, I actually met Councilor Berry a couple of years ago. I told her I'd become a con artist based on her guidance and she got all pissy-"

"Ash! Problem solving vis-à-vis our imminent capture and felony conviction!"

"Oh, right." The psychic broadened her senses. PALADIN rarely had security mechs on standby, so it served well enough as a monitor of where the officers were. "The cordon isn't closed yet. They can't seal fire escapes without a special dispensation from the DCC team and they don't have it yet. There may be officers in the way, but we have a Shelly. Spectre, you need to run ahead of us and find a vehicle. With internal lift coils."

[omnitricks]

"We all gotta start somewhere." She pointed to his glider. "And officers don't get rides nearly that cool."



"Why? So you can snatch off my stuff and go sell it off?" She growled, hugging the briefcase tight to her chest.

... Oh. It did have a physical port. Neat. That would come in handy.

Actually... She mused, a sly grin crossing her face. I could use some help with this, come to think of it... Try and go alone with a score this big, you'll get yourself hurt... And I ain't exactly a fighter. I could use a bodyguard. Gears turned quickly in her head.

Your inbox is full so I can't get any clarification on whether the italics without the quote marks are spoken so meh

Sunny and Blitz
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Noonish
The Rustbucket

"Oh if I want snatch your stuff, you'd know'" as soon as it was snatched anyway. Which was kind of the plan Blitz wanted to execute now because "you stop mumbling and tell me what you want. I can't hear you from up here."

[HalfTangible]

Your inbox is full so I can't get any clarification on whether the italics without the quote marks are spoken so meh

Sunny and Blitz
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Noonish
The Rustbucket

"Oh if I want snatch your stuff, you'd know'" as soon as it was snatched anyway. Which was kind of the plan Blitz wanted to execute now because "you stop mumbling and tell me what you want. I can't hear you from up here."

"Okay, okay, look." Sunny held up her hands, a slight grin coming to her face. "You think this suitcase is the one you just stole. I'm not admitting anything, but let's assume that's true. I'm being obstinate, but you haven't called any other wraiths yet to terrify me. Which tells me you're lookin' to get this score on your own." She tapped a finger against it. "But I just found something in the dark sections - xenotech. It's going to be worth an obscene amount of RCs to the right people. But... they aren't exactly friendly with me, just yet. The black market doesn't need a show of force, but it helps not to look weak. You come with me, act as my bodyguard. We'll split whatever the thing gets sold for, 70/30." She grinned. "Even at 30 percent, you'll be making more out of my item and this thing than you'd get with this thing on its own." Her smile faded. "Of course, you could just attack me and take the suitcase. But then you'd miss out on the bigger score, wouldn't ya?"

[Kasanip]

March 12,327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

"Naturally your plan is as expected the usual straightforward method." Tatyana made a rueful sigh. However, it can't be said to be a complaint, because the decisive charm point is the requirement of PALADIN types. Secretly the impatience she had was hoping for a similar release.
Tatyana nodded.

"Very well. Since it is speed, I'm taking the shortcut. Entering Precinct 326 restricted airspace."

She flicked the control setting of the transmission to <Manual>. Of course every machine has the setting of <Automatic> for the safe operation. However, this [shortcut] that is designated by Tatyana isn't a usual. By the usual speed a jump from vehicle to clear security gate height should be an impossible height.

However a chance to use <Full Throttle> isn't allowed by computers designed for the safety and the usual navigation systems.
For a former military pilot Navi like Tatyana, the inertia isn't a problem. A few G-force isn't a problem.
The turn was sharply taken to maximize surface area of vehicle over the curb. Such a sideways slide with the high speed made their vehicle jump into the sky as vector system tries to compensate the hover level.
Looking over shoulder to judge the distance, Tatyana yanked the control to point the vehicle up and forcefully stomped on accelerator with switch to 1 gear.
The poor vehicle howled with the engine forcibly switching to starting thrust. Such a switch usually includes a recalibration of stability system for start-up. In this way, the vehicle's maneuver became style called [drift] while hurling over the fence. Another fast switch of the transmission to <Full Throttle> again as such a [stall] began with corrected turn forward.
The acceleration force pushed back into the seat the pilot and passenger. If it could be seen the moment, Tatyana's face was a satisfied pretty grin.

In this way the Precinct was illegally entered from the side. Of course the security alarm could be seen with flashing light and information display. Tatyana regarded the chaos.
"Oh? It looks like they are already busy. It seems the hangar or roof are good spots. If I was a terrorist, I would steal a heavy frame or vehicle." She said. However, to consider her pilot nature, it shouldn't be a surprise the unimaginative thinking. She regarded Theo curiously.

[A Rainy Knight]

March 12,327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

"Understood! Full speed ahead, Yan!"

Gripping the armrests, Theo watched the surroundings fly by outside as the G-forces from Tatyana's maneuver pressed him back into his seat. His face held a grin of excitement, but his churning stomach was probably wishing he was as naturally acclimated to the forces as his partner was. When the vehicle finally came to a stop, he let out a breath and leaned over for a good look at the precinct (after a quick glance at Yan's look of satisfaction).

"Mmm... makes sense to me," he said, thinking over Yan's comment. "If the scoundrels get their hands on some of our heavy frames, we'll have a serious fight on our hands. Or if they take one of our cruisers, they could turn tail and run before I even have the chance to face them down and...!"

He clapped his hands together in decision and started to get out of the vehicle.

"Excellent idea, Yan! Let's head straight to the hangar to secure the place. Of course, I can lead the way - are you seeing any good vantage points to watch the area from?"

[Snowfire]

March 12, 327LE
Afternoon





March 12, 327LE -=Mid-Day=-
Merlin.pers
Damien's Flat (Deck 96)/VR; [Closed Instance: Escherwave.ins]

Worry; creator looks mildly distraught. Solution: distract him. The VR feline's fuzzy-logic processing kicked in at the sight of his creator's eyebrows twitching, the meticulously crafted persona that Damien used in VR showing his glowing braids flaring bright, canary yellow. Interrupt; hunger. Override. Prime Directive is creator's well-being. He purred softly, rubbing against the crosslegged form of his creator, mewling in quiet discontent. He was... Hungry? Merlin had to wonder what that subroutine was for before shaking his head, sure that his creator gave it to him for some reason or another.

Damien looked down for a second, his fingers brushing idly through the rendered fur on Merlin's head as he continued talking into the bright pane in front of him; eliciting further purrs from the feline. He was never too sure why, but that, and the base of his tail were capable of literally overriding everything other than making him flop over and meow plaintively. Deep down in his lowest subroutines, he loved it, and he again, wasn't sure why. Maybe one day he'd find out. Worry; creator is STILL distracted and distraught. Solution: ...??

Merlin meowed again before Damien looked down again, shaking his head and flicking his fingers, a flock of birds fluttering across the "ground" of the instance. Excitement! Birds! I'm gonna catch one! The feline scampered towards the flock before pouncing atop one, gnawing idly at it. Elation; I caught a bird! I'm gonna give it to-- He turned, with his prize between his sharp teeth; before looking where Damien used to be. Merlin's ears dipped; and he curled up with the bird still between his teeth. Override. I will wait.


March 12, 327LE -=Mid-Day=-
Damien "Dreamweaver" Romero
Damien's Flat (Deck 96)/VR; [Closed Instance: Escherwave.ins]

"So you mean to tell me that whatever that was... Is something that either hasn't been seen before, or has been seen, but not often enough for safeguards to be built around it?" The fiberoptic filigree in Damien's braids flared yellow, glowing bright with growing unease. This isn't good. This isn't good at all. He rubbed his face with his hands, ignoring Merlin trotting up to him for the time being as his fingers began to twitch. "Me cago en todo..." He hissed through clenched teeth in a variant of Old Speech learned from his father, the implants only growing brighter as his unease mounted further. A Coderunner, moreover, an Immersive didn't even know what the hell that was.

And as soon as she said it was Corps level drek, all of the color drained out of his face. This is really fraggin' bad... The entire ship might be slotted if it's this bad... And then she started going on about bringing him INTO it. Actively working an issue with... "Working with Immersives. Kira, you know about me. You were there when my father told me I had manifested my first ability. There can't be a legal precedent for me taking this on with you and a handful of other Coderunners..." His eyebrows furrowed for a second, and then his first instincts started practically screaming at him.

How often has she ever come through for you, Damien? Kira's literally been friends with you since you could walk! Your father used to work with hers on the same damn jobs! You're not honestly about to tell her you're NOT gonna work on this! Merlin meowed, rubbing against his knee as the abstractionist was jerked from his internal schism for a second, idly running his fingers through the cat's fur before looking at the viewport again. Oh, frag all, she's doing that absolutely adorable smiling thing again. Seriously, class 5 Esper, abstraction fraggin' virtuoso, and I'm folding like I have so many years before. Suns damn you, Kira.

He sighed, rubbing his face with his hands again. He knew he wasn't able to feel sweat from the VR chair he had put together, but that didn't change the fact that he felt like he should have been sweating. It is a steady check, though... For however long this lasts. "I'm probably right fragged in the exhaust slot for saying this, Kira, but this really can't be ignored. Count me in. Let me know what you need, I'll see what can be done."

He clapped his hands, sending a flock of birds in the opposite direction of Merlin, watching him tear after them with a fond look on his face before closing the video link, pulling up a direct interface pane with Le Fay. I need to be taken to MeditationChamber.ins, LeFay.

Of course, Dreamweaver.

The colors and renderings seemed to melt away before the dojo he came to meditate in began rendering around him. He dropped to his knees, looking up at the statue in front of him; for once, managing to meet his eyes. It seemed like even before his father's death, once the pair knew that Damien was an Esper, and therefore ineligible to become a Coderunner, it was like his father viewed him as... Less.

"Would you have made the same choice in my position, Dad? I've never felt more unsure of myself until now; but the ship is possibly in danger. I can't ignore this... At least, I don't think. I wish I knew what you would have done, knowing this."

Unfortunately for Damien, he wasn't exactly left in peace to contemplate what he'd just done, as his system pinged and Kira's face appeared again in front of him. She was clearly not happy with herself for having to continue the conversation when it had been quite clear that Damien didn't want to, but she didn't have much choice.

"I'm sorry Damien, but I need to send you a few things to get you entered into this." A file transfer flipped up on the connection, various text documents, all requiring Alias signature from him. "I...well, we'll need those back as fast as you can, but please do read them. It's mostly standard NDA stuff, but some of the wording may be a little non-standard. With the authority we get access to for this, the level of restrictions on information use are understandably high. It wasn't always this way, but it was a safety measure put in place after the Blackwar, just in case the Coderunners...lost our way." She looked up at him, and the businesslike manner vanished for a moment.

"I...um...I'm sorry, Damien, if I've forced you into this. You don't have to sign...but you're one of the best people I know of where it comes to the Sim. And we may need to dig through that on that level if we want to find whatever did this. As to how it spread that message...well it's more of a fact that we couldn't build safeguards beyond what already existed. Anything further than that...I'm sorry, but I really do need you to sign those things." She frowned, clearly torn on the issue, but held firm. She just hoped Damien would understand.



March 12, 327 LE
Engineering Bay
Afternoon

"I have my suspicions on where the drive is, but... yes, I'd damn well love confirmation. Then maybe I could convince Mum or the Captain to let me go there." What Ollie didn't say out loud was that if he had confirmation and a map to the slip space engines or the fusion drive that powered things, he'd go there with or without permission. Permission would be nice, though.

Just then, Ollie's datapad pinged. It could have been Mum. Ollie was keeping her informed of everything he knew. It could also be his contact in the Officer Corps proper. The poor fellow was actually being paid to be the 'Omega Liaison'. Officer Westerlund wasn't very prominent, but Ollie kept him busy... something that Oliver regretted, occasionally, on his better days. It could even have been Steve, from earlier today. Or Damien, yelling at Ollie for the empathy-inducing-outburst that happened before meeting Steve.

It could have been any number of people.

It was not one of the people Oliver expected it to be. He frowned, as he read the message, holding a finger up to forestall anyone - Blue or any other Engineer - from bothering him. Then Oliver did something that bothered quite a few Engineers. Soon, the whole Bay was looking up at Chief Ahberon, and Engineer Joseph Rumel was gaping, mouth wide open and for once, silent.

Oliver smiled. Then, he started laughing. His cheeks were a rosy red, and his whole face was flush with excitement. He danced a little jig, holding his data pad up like it was a refined lady that he was swinging around the dance floor. He began to hum and sing a little, to a tune that no one really recognized, and when he finally realized what was going on, he stopped and looked out at the Bay to all the Engineers staring at him. Besides the wild reports and beeps from control panels, no other sounds were being made, so his voice was clearly heard as, still smiling, Ollie said, "SUCH A FINE DAY, ISN'T IT MR. RUMEL?"

"Err... Yes sir?" Rumel said uncertainly from his place down on the main floor.

"FINE FINE day." A huge grin plastered on Ollie's face, he looked around and said, to no one in particular, "Get back to work!"

The Bay suddenly exploded in activity once more, as every Engineer was suddenly reminded that they had better things to do then watch Chief Ahberon dance around, laughing and smiling. In fact, they did not want to be the one who spoiled his mood. Ollie walked back, and looked down at Blue, still giggling a little. "Blue, you were right. We did get contacted. Officer Corps just sent me a message. Or rather, a member of a section of Officer Corpse did! Do you know that some of my favorite magic words on this whole asteroid-pocked ship are? Do you know what the words 'Coderunner Authority Situation' mean, Vega?"

If Andrew were going to respond, Ollie didn't care. It was apparently a rhetorical question, as Oliver kept talking. "It means as close to full clearance as I'm going to get. It means I get full run of the ship, and only the Captain, Mum, and the blasted rust bucket can stop me. And if they want to? They have to do it personally. Due to the nature of the difficulty - what with this recent bit of cyber-hacking - I can't accept substitutes. I must speak with them in person, which for the ship's most busted AI? That'd mean I'd have to go to the primary terminal for the Navigator, if it objected.

THAT'S why 'Coderunner Authority Situation' are such magical words. And since you volunteered, guess who gets to help me? YOU DO. You get to help me. Now, don't you agree, today's a fine, fine day?"

All the while, joy in his eyes, a chuckle in his throat, and happiness in his heart for the first time in a while, Ollie was typing away at a return message to Coderunner Kira. It was very simple.

Coderunner Kira,

Of course I remember you! How could I forget such a wonderful person. I'd be pleased as punch to help you.

I've even got an additional volunteer from EHMC, in case we need to go out space-walking. If we remain in-ship, he's still an engineer that I trust not to screw up too badly.

Shall we meet somewhere, and discuss our first steps?

-Oliver Ahberon

Kira noticed the message come in, and flipped it open with an idle hand as she was focused on Damien. She didn't read it until after their conversation was over, but when she did, she couldn't help a wry smile before bouncing the message and a link to Lea.

"Ollie's onboard, and he's bringing a friend from EHMC. Apparently a volunteer, but you know Ollie." She chuckled, and Lea shook her head with a smile as she looked over the text of the message.

"Yeah. But someone he trusts to not screw up too badly means he's good. And he's right about somewhere to meet." Kira cocked her head, and Lea sighed. "This is cyberspace issue, Kira, remember. That means personal meetings."

"Oh...right." Lea laughed.

"C'mon Kira, you've gotten so good with those sort of things, ever since a few years ago." She shook her head again, utterly ignoring Kira's glare. She was one of the few people who could say that and get away with just a glare. Lucky woman. "Can you run the liaison? Please? I know you're good in the 'sphere, but you're probably the best we've got where it comes to social."

"I.." Kira sighed, then nodded. "Ok. But you owe me for this, Lea. Normally -"

"Normally it's me, I know. But in this case..." For the first time in the conversation, Lea let her stress show. "Kira, the Council just handed me Coderunner Authority. Me. Not someone else in the Coderunners, because they don't even know how this happened yet. We're on the leading edge here, and that means we might be able to catch who or whatever did this before it can conceal itself. I have our top-flights working on the SIN as we speak, and I think they're starting to uncover a trail. It seems to be tangled up in Dark Sim though, which is going to be-"

"Not a problem." Lea blinked. "I have a friend, Damien, you know him I think. He's done more work in Dark Sim environments than most of us put together, and that's just what he's willing to tell me about. He said he'd want to help." She left out that she'd already brought him in on this on her own authority, hopefully Lea wouldn't look to closely at the NDA agreement sign dates. Wishful thinking probably, but miracles did happen. But...she had to tell her the last bit, no matter how much she might prefer not to.

"He's...also an Esper. Class 5 with an Empathic primary." Lea hesitated, opened her mouth, but Kira didn't let her reply. "I've known him all my life, Lea. He was the son of a friend of my father's. He knows Coderunner rules." Her mouth snapped shut. And then after a long moment, she nodded.

"If he's half as good in Dark Sim as you say, he'll be priceless. And having an Empath...I can get it in under CAS. In the event of face to face interaction, yaddayadda. Contact him and send him the read-ins and then get a place for a meeting in a few hours. Hopefully we'll have something to go on beyond 'Distribution though SIN nodes', but even if we don't we need to meet. I'll make sure everyone from us is there. Use CAS to make sure we have somewhere workable, and take it for duration."

Kira nodded, eyes a little unfocused as she started searching for a venue with part of her mind.

"I'll ping you location for the meet once I've got it. Shoot for eighteen hundred?"

"Sounds good. We'll be there."

The link snapped off and Kira dived into the Datasphere, searching for a location that would have sufficient space and access to relevant gear to be a good command station. It didn't take long. Of course, most places like that were very hard to get access to, especially on demand, but with CAS in effect she didn't even have to be nice when she said she was taking the place. Of course, she was nice, very nice in fact, but that wasn't the point. As she searched for and confirmed the venue, she composed a short reply to Ollie, with a paste-in for location. As the final approval cleared - she'd had to bounce it to Lea once, but that had gotten it sorted very, very fast - she pasted in the location and sent it. She also split away a copy for Damien, including a time for him to be picked up at his place. She wasn't going to make him ride the tube all the way up and then have to deal with Ollie. And it counted as necessary! Everyone had to be on top form.

Chief Ahberon,

We have acquired a Deck 3 conference unit to act as a command centre for the duration of this situation. I have enclosed the exact address. We have an intial meeting scheduled for 18:00 shiptime. If you require aerial transport, please inform me and I will arrange it for yourself and your volunteer.

Attached are Coderunner Authority control forms for both of you. All require Alias signatures. Please read them fully before signing and return them to this line when signed.

Coderunner Tsumantso

Damien,

We've acquired a Deck 3 conference unit to act as a command centre for the duration of this situation. I've enclosed the exact address and have scheduled aerial transport for you to our first meeting at 18:00 shiptime. We need everyone there, if any of your clients give you grief, direct them to this line. And please, don't worry about your Esper status. I hope you're doing alright, and I'll see you soon.

Kira.

[Nefarion Xid]

Spectre
March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326: Garage
Noon

"Run ahead, Spectre. Get us a vehicle, Spectre. Do you have a color preference? Should I get a car seat for the new addition to the family?"

Having regained a bit of his stamina, Spectre had done as ordered and gone ahead of Shelly and Ash. He'd taken the short route to the auto garage, narrowly skirting another squad of PALADINs on their way to manually open the second door the trio had disabled. With alacritous grace he helped himself to the newly arrived pilot's key card and made the short dash to the unoccupied hangar.


***

A minute later a driver-less PALADIN cruiser drifted out into the street. Over the vehicle's speakers blared the upbeat chorus of, "I'll be there for you! (When the rain starts to pour.) I'll be there for you! (Like I've been there before.)" before it collided (albeit at a safe 5 meters per second) with a second cruiser that had just arrived on the scene. The sound of the Rembrandts' only hit continued to drown out the sounds of the street.

Meanwhile Spectre sung along as he stealthily walked out the garage's service entrance with a hover bike and reactivated his cloaking device.

[Rain Dragon]

327 L.E. March 12th
Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold

The crash of cutlery, Zyn, this handsome stranger, the sensation of falling and the crowd - it was all a little too much. Focus, Rikki had to focus. The typical human brain was not designed to handle direct interaction with an artificial construct, but it could learn. And memory augments were intended to be low load, but then most people probably didn't end up with an entity living on theirs. At this moment Zyn was more of a distraction than an aid.

Taking a step back, she breathed. Mentally she placed a wall between herself and the crowd then turned her attention towards Zyn. The video was down and so Rikki sent him an acknowledgement and assurances that she was fine. Then she proceeded to ignore Zyn, dismissing the slight twinge of guilt as she did so. Rikki would have to make it up to him later but right now she needed awareness of her physical surroundings.

She was on her feet again thankfully - hopefully no one she knew had seen her momentary clumsiness, her reputation wouldn't be able to take the hit - and finally looked at the man she had run into. Who was currently scrambling about after his cutlery and clearly of middle to upper class standing. Great, just what she needed. If Grandfather Eridani learned of this... but enough gloomy thoughts, she had to say something before this gentleman came to the conclusion that Rikki was a space-case. Her mental recollection had taken mere seconds thankfully.

"Sorry," Rikki apologised, "momentary dizziness, it's already passing."

Not entirely the truth, still, there no need to mention what had actually happened. The second cutlery crash brought Rikki's attention back to the fact that this man
had already been injured before their encounter and probably would appreciate a hand. And weren't there books involved somehow? Actual printed books, on paper and everything. Looking about she was able to swiftly gather what were hopefully all of his missing books which she then placed in a stack beside him.

Now for his cutlery. "Here, allow me." Rikki knelt down, taking the case from him.

Cutlery for six, spoons still inside but knives and forks had managed to escape. Gathering the scattered utensils was easy enough, well until she counted and realised that she had only recovered 5 knives. One was missing. Rikki knew replacing it would be hard, a glance at the case confirming that thought. Silver-plated. She definitely wouldn't be replacing that, she was the one at fault and so she was responsible. The knife was probably still around here somewhere though. Rikki knew what it felt like when someone stole something, so why hadn't she...? Oh, right. The wall.

So clearly my competence is also taking the day off, she thought ruefully.

Now with her attention focused on her empathy she could feel it. Somewhere close, the curious mix of satisfaction with a twinge of guilt that was so common to opportunistic thieves. And it was there, just on the other side of that kiosk. It looked solid and was currently unattended. Perfect.

"Excuse me." Rikki stated as she stood.

A light stretch was her companion's only warning before she leapt, landing crouched atop the kiosk softly as a cat would. Looking down she saw her thief, knife in hand with a HSD.

Probably mod'd for metals, wondering whether it's solid silver, she thought.

One flip later and with surprise working for her she had both the HSD and knife in had. A little sleight of hand and the scanner disappeared into a pocket. It would be much more useful to her after all. The thief was just getting over his shock, but it was Rikki's day off so before he could react she was back on the kiosk's roof. Where she lounged comfortably.

"Rikki Lowell, at your service." she said to the man she had run into, finally introducing herself. "Oh, and I found the knife."

And for some reason she was now associating this random stranger with a butler... oh, right, Zyn. With an internal wince Rikki turned her attention back to his space. He was probably miffed.

Ignoring him right after I get into a situation, yeah... bad move, she thought.

And so she directed his way a summary of what had just happened - embellishing her encounter with the petty thief a little - along with a rueful apology along the lines of promising to do her best to keep Zyn in the loop during similar situations and noting that they needed more practice in this sort of area.

12th March, 327 LE
Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold

It had happened rather quickly. First the woman was apologising for her dizziness and helping him with his things and the next she was presenting him with a recovered knife and offering her services. His implants sent a flickering slowed replay to his visual cortex. He winced at the unwanted intrusion to his thoughts and brought his good hand up to shield his eyes from the lights and colours of the Treasure Hold momentarily. Still, he could not help but admire her acrobatic talents and quick thinking.
"That's a lot of effort to recover a single knife."
He took the knife back and added it to the others in the box.
"Under normal circumstances I'd do something to repay your assistance but I'm afraid I must return home and rest my arm."
As he spoke, he rummaged around in one of the pockets of his coat and took a card out of a little case and offered it to Rikki.
"Feel free to call at any time if you need anything. My answering service would be happy to take your call."


-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold


A computer can process a lot of information very quickly with very different strengths and weaknesses compared to a human. Zyn's perception of time is quite strange compared to a human's due to this, but some process or other limited his processing capabilities as he was left completely in the dark after Rikki's collision. Two thoughts fought in Zyn's mind 'Rikki's hurt!' and 'Rikki's fine, just a little busy.' causing Zyn's perception of time to warp. The latter turned out to be true as Rikki interrupted Zyn's thoughts seemingly only a few microseconds later with a summary of events. Zyn sent, 'It is lucky he ran into you, then, and not someone else. Especially with his hurt arm...' Zyn sent a feeling that was a sort of mix between slight concern and well meaning, 'Perhaps he would appreciate someone to make sure he returns home safe. I don't know, thpugh... Perhaps he would take such an offer the wrong way...'



-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Afternoon
Treasure Hold


"No, I think it's broken." a short man in a fancy suit said to the tall lady by his side, "I'm sure someone around here could use a courier bot and I do have spares." The man grinned, obviously trying to impress his companion with his generosity. She returned a smile and replied, "How ni- Oh." The pair's faces changed instantly as the ship-wide broadcast played on all of their devices. As soon as the message had finished, the lady grinned and turned to her companion who was staring at his wristtop. His face was pale as the lady grabbed him by the arm and started dragging him away. "Imagine if we find those blueprints first!" she said excitedly.

Meanwhile, Zyn was very unaware of any such blueprints. 'A courier bot! That would be rather useful for me! If it is only a software issue I can surely fix it.' Zyn excitedly sends to Rikki.

A broken courier bot happens to be lying abandonned in the Treasure Hold near Rikki and Zyn!

[Kitsanth]

12th March, 327 LE
Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold

It had happened rather quickly. First the woman was apologising for her dizziness and helping him with his things and the next she was presenting him with a recovered knife and offering her services. His implants sent a flickering slowed replay to his visual cortex. He winced at the unwanted intrusion to his thoughts and brought his good hand up to shield his eyes from the lights and colours of the Treasure Hold momentarily. Still, he could not help but admire her acrobatic talents and quick thinking.
"That's a lot of effort to recover a single knife."
He took the knife back and added it to the others in the box.
"Under normal circumstances I'd do something to repay your assistance but I'm afraid I must return home and rest my arm."
As he spoke, he rummaged around in one of the pockets of his coat and took a card out of a little case and offered it to Rikki.
"Feel free to call at any time if you need anything. My answering service would be happy to take your call."


-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold


A computer can process a lot of information very quickly with very different strengths and weaknesses compared to a human. Zyn's perception of time is quite strange compared to a human's due to this, but some process or other limited his processing capabilities as he was left completely in the dark after Rikki's collision. Two thoughts fought in Zyn's mind 'Rikki's hurt!' and 'Rikki's fine, just a little busy.' causing Zyn's perception of time to warp. The latter turned out to be true as Rikki interrupted Zyn's thoughts seemingly only a few microseconds later with a summary of events. Zyn sent, 'It is lucky he ran into you, then, and not someone else. Especially with his hurt arm...' Zyn sent a feeling that was a sort of mix between slight concern and well meaning, 'Perhaps he would appreciate someone to make sure he returns home safe. I don't know, thpugh... Perhaps he would take such an offer the wrong way...'

327 L.E. March 12th
Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold

Rikki dropped down from the kiosk's roof and handed the knife over.

"It was my fault that it was lost," Rikki stated simply, taking the card from him graciously as it was offered. Then read it;

Alexander F. Sandulf Sc. D
Biomechatronic Engineer - Central Infirmary

A doctor, but not a medical doctor, she thought, a most useful contact.

Zyn had a good point. Alexander seemed to be a man of decent means but even the more prosperous sections of the Aeternus could be dangerous. And with his arm it would be difficult for him to transport his purchases.

Rikki directed her thoughts towards Zyn, 'I'll make the offer and hope he that he takes it in the right spirit then.'

"Of course Doctor," Rikki said, "those packages seem rather awkward. Would you like a hand with returning to your apartment? I have a few errands that I need to run here first though."

[Elemental]

327 L.E. March 12th
Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold

Rikki dropped down from the kiosk's roof and handed the knife over.

"It was my fault that it was lost," Rikki stated simply, taking the card from him graciously as it was offered. Then read it;

Alexander F. Sandulf Sc. D
Biomechatronic Engineer - Central Infirmary

A doctor, but not a medical doctor, she thought, a most useful contact.

Zyn had a good point. Alexander seemed to be a man of decent means but even the more prosperous sections of the Aeternus could be dangerous. And with his arm it would be difficult for him to transport his purchases.

Rikki directed her thoughts towards Zyn, 'I'll make the offer and hope he that he takes it in the right spirit then.'

"Of course Doctor," Rikki said, "those packages seem rather awkward. Would you like a hand with returning to your apartment? I have a few errands that I need to run here first though."

12th March, 327 LE
Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold

"It's very kind of you to offer Ms. Lowell. But as much as I would appreciate the assistance I simply must return immediately or I'd have to reprimand myself for medical misconduct in not giving my injury the proper attention and I could not in good conscience demand you abandon your errands merely to assist me. After all, it is my own fault I am injured. I'm stronger than I look, I'll manage."
Given how strong he looked he must have been exaggerating.
"Really, you've done more than enough for me as is."

[Gengy]

March 12, 327LE
Afternoon

"Ollie's onboard, and he's bringing a friend from EHMC. Apparently a volunteer, but you know Ollie." She chuckled, and Lea shook her head with a smile as she looked over the text of the message.

"Yeah. But someone he trusts to not screw up too badly means he's good. And he's right about somewhere to meet." Kira cocked her head, and Lea sighed. "This is cyberspace issue, Kira, remember. That means personal meetings."

"Oh...right." Lea laughed.

"C'mon Kira, you've gotten so good with those sort of things, ever since a few years ago." She shook her head again, utterly ignoring Kira's glare. She was one of the few people who could say that and get away with just a glare. Lucky woman. "Can you run the liaison? Please? I know you're good in the 'sphere, but you're probably the best we've got where it comes to social."

"I.." Kira sighed, then nodded. "Ok. But you owe me for this, Lea. Normally -"

"Normally it's me, I know. But in this case..." For the first time in the conversation, Lea let her stress show. "Kira, the Council just handed me Coderunner Authority. Me. Not someone else in the Coderunners, because they don't even know how this happened yet. We're on the leading edge here, and that means we might be able to catch who or whatever did this before it can conceal itself. I have our top-flights working on the SIN as we speak, and I think they're starting to uncover a trail. It seems to be tangled up in Dark Sim though, which is going to be-"

"Not a problem." Lea blinked. "I have a friend, Damien, you know him I think. He's done more work in Dark Sim environments than most of us put together, and that's just what he's willing to tell me about. He said he'd want to help." She left out that she'd already brought him in on this on her own authority, hopefully Lea wouldn't look to closely at the NDA agreement sign dates. Wishful thinking probably, but miracles did happen. But...she had to tell her the last bit, no matter how much she might prefer not to.

"He's...also an Esper. Class 5 with an Empathic primary." Lea hesitated, opened her mouth, but Kira didn't let her reply. "I've known him all my life, Lea. He was the son of a friend of my father's. He knows Coderunner rules." Her mouth snapped shut. And then after a long moment, she nodded.

"If he's half as good in Dark Sim as you say, he'll be priceless. And having an Empath...I can get it in under CAS. In the event of face to face interaction, yaddayadda. Contact him and send him the read-ins and then get a place for a meeting in a few hours. Hopefully we'll have something to go on beyond 'Distribution though SIN nodes', but even if we don't we need to meet. I'll make sure everyone from us is there. Use CAS to make sure we have somewhere workable, and take it for duration."

Kira nodded, eyes a little unfocused as she started searching for a venue with part of her mind.

"I'll ping you location for the meet once I've got it. Shoot for sixteen hundred?"

"Sounds good. We'll be there."

The link snapped off and Kira dived into the Datasphere, searching for a location that would have sufficient space and access to relevant gear to be a good command station. It didn't take long. Of course, most places like that were very hard to get access to, especially on demand, but with CAS in effect she didn't even have to be nice when she said she was taking the place. Of course, she was nice, very nice in fact, but that wasn't the point. As she searched for and confirmed the venue, she composed a short reply to Ollie, with a paste-in for location. As the final approval cleared - she'd had to bounce it to Lea once, but that had gotten it sorted very, very fast - she pasted in the location and sent it. She also split away a copy for Damien, including a time for him to be picked up at his place. She wasn't going to make him ride the tube all the way up and then have to deal with Ollie. And it counted as necessary! Everyone had to be on top form.

Chief Ahberon,

We have acquired a Deck 3 conference unit to act as a command centre for the duration of this situation. I have enclosed the exact address. We have an intial meeting scheduled for 16:00 shiptime. If you require aerial transport, please inform me and I will arrange it for yourself and your volunteer.

Attached are Coderunner Authority control forms for both of you. All require Alias signatures. Please read them fully before signing and return them to this line when signed.

Coderunner Tsumantso

Omega Ollie
March 12, 327 LE
Afternoon

Before the message even arrived, Ollie was packed up and ready to leave the Engineering Bay for the second time that day. The day had started out terribly, but it was going much better now. A smile still on his face, he grabbed Vega by the collar, and looked the EHMC in the eyes. "You volunteered. You'll follow me, if you know what's good for you."

Letting Blue go, Ollie began to dance again, his datapad going off with the return message from Coderunner Tsumansto. He read things over, signed what he needed to sign, shot a copy of the forms to Vega, and whether Blue was actually following or not, began to make his way out of the Bay. Typing out some quick messages to other people - he let Mum know he was handling the Never Forget situation, he informed the shift-change Chief that he wouldn't be there to perform the change over, he let the Section Engineers know why he was dancing away - he started to figure out a plan.

As Chief Engineer, Ollie could requisition many things. He could get all sorts of parts crafted, and depending on the urgency or the severity, could even get them for free from fabrications companies. The Entire Ship Going Boom Unless We Get This Part was an excellent incentive to induce generosity. Ollie could get many things that way. However, it had to be a real emergency to do it. Those kinds of things never really popped up; which was good, in it's own way. Ollie liked living, and The Entire Ship Going Boom would be adverse to his desire to remain alive.

Still, this situation - while perhaps not as dire - was a rare opportunity to abuse some power. It would normally take Oliver several hours of walking, climbing, and maneuvering to get to the third floor. Even more time, if Vega followed him. Ollie had some secret routes through a few Dark Sectors that he didn't mind using when he was alone, but wasn't exactly happy about utilizing with other people. This time, though? This time, he'd take the lifts.

The public lifts were massive things. They rotated around the interior of the ship, helping to cement the grav-field that allowed a mostly Earth-like gravity pressure within the Aeternus. It was one of the few things of Earth that everyone remembered for sure: roughly 9.81 G is an optimal grav-field. The Aeternus lifts helped to keep the field at 9.805 m/s2, and were regulated and monitored by an independent AI that reported directly to the Navigator. Oliver made a point to talk with Graff - as the AI liked to be called - at least once a month.

Partly, it was because Oliver was checking to make sure there were no problems with the gravfield hardware, but also because (other than reporting to the Navigator) Graff wasn't a bad 'person' to talk to. The AI had a pretty boring job. Rotate lifts and other mechanics to keep the artificial gravity of the ship continuously at the optimal level. Check to make sure that optimal level stayed optimal. Any deviation, and Graff would make the needed minor corrections. Usually, he'd (Oliver always thought of Graff as a he, probably because of the deep male-like voice the AI had) slow down or speed up the public lifts, since they were the largest bit of mechanics available. The people on the lifts or trying to get on them would barely notice the change. It was incremental, and rarely ever did it cause problems. The lift speeds were already a little slow, but they were among the easiest ways to get from a low floor to a higher floor. There were hundreds of lifts, each able to hold fifty people if needed, and one showed up on each level roughly once every couple minutes. All anyone had to do to use them was step on while it snailed past them, then step off at the correct floor.

Ollie didn't know how the lifts were protected from coming out of the lower floors - more Dark Sectors the lower down you went - or how people didn't fall into the giant gaping holes left over when a lift went past. There were several safety hazards involved with the lifts, but they worked. If you, hypothetically speaking, needed to get from the first floor down to the three-hundreth, and had some time on your hands, you could ride a lift down all the way. It would take you roughly ten hours, though.

The secondary Engineering Bay, where Ollie and the other Engineers worked, was on the 133rd floor, almost to the aft - the rear - of the ship. It wasn't quite mid-ship, but it was close. It was also one of the nicer sectors that went below the 100th floor. Engineers liked having shiny, clean living spaces. So they made it happen, one way or another.

If Ollie wanted to take a public lift from the 133rd floor to the 3rd, it would take roughly two hundred sixty minutes. Ollie didn't have four hours and some change. He and Blue - assuming Vega was keeping pace with him - would have to do something else. So Ollie kept walking, and spent about thirty minutes navigating to almost exactly midship. Or at least, the exact middle of all the lifts. It was here that Graff - the physical embodiment of the AI's hardware - was housed.

"Chief Engineer Ahberon! Salutations. A delight to see you, as it were. In person no less." The words read out on Graff's monitor, and the speakers nearby echoed the words. Physically speaking, Graff was a blocky super computer all on his own, in an air conditioned controlled private room. There should have been an Officer Corps member stationed outside the door, but there never was. Messing with Graff wasn't just dumb, it was pointless. If Graff went offline, there were several other AI that would immediately be able to step in to handle the job -- including the Navigator. Ollie may not like the bucket of bolts that ran the ship, but few people were stupid enough to try and piss directly on the Navigator's console; which would be what would be the equivalent of trying to turn Graff off. Anything happened to Graff, and not only would the Engineering Bay be notified, but so would the Captain and the Navigator.

"Graff. Good to see you too." Ollie meant it. He allowed himself a smile - a real smile - as he stared at the console before him.

"Is there a problem? I am not detecting any abnormalities within my hardware or software. Gravfield matrix remains stable and nominal."

"No problem with you, Graff. But you saw the Never Forget guy's message, right?"

"Affirmative. Blueprints of the whole ship. I would provide an opinion on the matter, but at this time, all AI programs are awaiting instructions from the Navigator regarding the situation." Well. That's useful information all on it's own. There was a reason Ollie liked Graff, despite the Gravfield AI's loyalty to the Tyrant of Aeternus. Graff couldn't keep his digital mouth shut sometimes, even when the AI wasn't telling you much.

"Well, I've got Coderunner Authority to investigate the matter. And I need your help."

"Comprehension! This is why you are visiting my console in person. Face-to-interface requirements for assistance requests."

"That's right. I'll need your hardware hard-line communicator." Ollie referred to the device that was only able to communicate with Graff's hard ware console. No other communications possible. It was rarely used, but all essential AI had them for emergency circumstances like this one. It helped to make sure that orders weren't being circumvented.

"Of course, Chief." A tray at the bottom of the console in front of Ollie opened up, and the HH-LC was there. Ollie grabbed it. It was like an old earth relic walkie-talkie, but the station was hard-coded into the device itself to only be communicable between Graff and his HH-LC.

"And a private lift to the third floor, if you would, please." Oliver didn't say please often. But it was always smart to be polite to a properly functioning AI. "One that won't take me more than forty minutes of a ride to get there from this level."

"That will require some re-calibration of public lifts. I am verifying your credentials. Credentials and Coderunner Authrotiy Situation verified. Public lifts adjusted. Time-delay on lifts between floors is now four minutes. Observation: This adjustment will be noticeable to the public."

"Issue an announcement, if you would please. Just something that says that lift speed is delayed due to..." Ollie wasn't sure what Kira Tsumansto would want said, so he kept it vague. "...Engineering Investigations."

There. That was the truth. He was an Engineer. He was investigating something. It slowed the public lifts. No one could find fault with that. Right?

"Your private lift is ready, Chief. It will be arriving in section 150-F-iv in twenty minutes. Recommendation: Hurry."

"Thanks Graff." Confirming the HH-LC was in his hands, Ollie turned and walked briskly to 150-F-iv, where a small hole opened up just a few seconds before a metal platform with four human sized chairs sat arrived.

From the HH-LC's voicebox, Graff's deep voice stated, "Chief Ahberon, please step on the lift. I can only hold it in place for 12.43564 seconds after this message completes."

Ollie didn't need telling twice. Nor would he get a chance. He stepped in, taking a seat, and finally looked around for Vega, hoping the EHMC had managed to keep up.

[Netjester]

March 12, 327LE
Afternoon



Unfortunately for Damien, he wasn't exactly left in peace to contemplate what he'd just done, as his system pinged and Kira's face appeared again in front of him. She was clearly not happy with herself for having to continue the conversation when it had been quite clear that Damien didn't want to, but she didn't have much choice.

"I'm sorry Damien, but I need to send you a few things to get you entered into this." A file transfer flipped up on the connection, various text documents, all requiring Alias signature from him. "I...well, we'll need those back as fast as you can, but please do read them. It's mostly standard NDA stuff, but some of the wording may be a little non-standard. With the authority we get access to for this, the level of restrictions on information use are understandably high. It wasn't always this way, but it was a safety measure put in place after the Blackwar, just in case the Coderunners...lost our way." She looked up at him, and the businesslike manner vanished for a moment.

"I...um...I'm sorry, Damien, if I've forced you into this. You don't have to sign...but you're one of the best people I know of where it comes to the Sim. And we may need to dig through that on that level if we want to find whatever did this. As to how it spread that message...well it's more of a fact that we couldn't build safeguards beyond what already existed. Anything further than that...I'm sorry, but I really do need you to sign those things." She frowned, clearly torn on the issue, but held firm. She just hoped Damien would understand.

Damien,

We've acquired a Deck 3 conference unit to act as a command centre for the duration of this situation. I've enclosed the exact address and have scheduled aerial transport for you to our first meeting at 16:00 shiptime. We need everyone there, if any of your clients give you grief, direct them to this line. And please, don't worry about your Esper status. I hope you're doing alright, and I'll see you soon.

Kira.


March 12, 327LE -=Mid-Day=-
Damien "Dreamweaver" Romero
Damien's Flat (Deck 96)

Damien looked up at the pane that had suddenly reopened itself; cognizant of the fact that Kira wouldn't deliberately intrude on what should have been a closed link unless it was necessary. Unless, of course, I forgot to check the closed link box... Not my problem right now. As she discussed the nature of the forms he'd need to sign, Damien was only halfway paying attention as he read over the transferred files; an eyebrow raising as he went over the language. "Some real heavy drek here, Kira. Guess this isn't a story I'm passing on to the grandkids if I ever become an old, bearded geezer with augs in." He chuckled ruefully, signing his Alias signature to the forms before sending them back over.

"Don't worry. I understand you need my help. Given my past, the crew I used to run with, unless you felt like popping one of the ex-RAMJets out of isolation, or trying to go it dark, I may be the last person with intimate knowledge of how Dark-Sim works. It's my home more than my flat is, after all." A slight exhale as he closed his eyes, force-closing the instance he was in and hopping out of the VR chair, a little bit bleary from the chemical cocktail that the chair had injected him with. Luckily, he wasn't yet courting force-shock yet, but he was still groggy.

He riffled through his closet, looking for the slightly dressier outfit he had. It'd been modified from a black sport-coat, inlaid with fiber-optic detailing at the edges that responded to a wireless transmitter in the collar, effortlessly linking with his augmentations to display the same colors that his eyes and the filigree in his braids gave. Tasteful, but still out there in terms of casual wear-- this was typically what he wore when meeting with clients. And honestly, wasn't that what he was about to do?

A message from Kira popped up in AR, and Damien's fingers flicked slightly, the implants in his fingers giving the sense of pressure from poking at the AR window, the message snapping to the side of his vision as he went about showering. "Deck 3... Hm. Coderunner authority really is something else, innit? ...16:00. Well, that'll give me enough time to set my VR status to on a job... Esper status is ok? Wonders never cease..." He was murmuring to himself, and soon enough, was out of the shower and dressing. Sure, it wasn't a typical ship-suit, but he wasn't a big fan of them in the first place.

Part of him considered hopping back into VR, something light. Something that could take his mind off the fact that his father wasn't here to see this. Sure, he wasn't a de-facto Coderunner, but this was big. Part of him knew that he only had about 2 or 3 hours before the transport was supposed to show. He shrugged, before finding a 2-hour sedative, slipping it beneath his tongue and letting it dissolve as he reclined into the VR chair, only to reappear in the Escherwave instance, Merlin trotting up to him with a bird caught between his teeth. He fired off a quick message to Kira before petting his cat, a smile spreading across his face as the lights in his braids and eyes faded from yellow to tranquil cyan.

I'm taking your word on the Esper status thing. I know it's not exactly making you any friends up there. See you when we touch down.

[hi-mi-tsu]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Ark Ship Aeternus
Afternoon

The Datasphere is a curious thing. Like the internet whispered about in the mythical planet that the Aeternus launched from, it is everywhere and nowhere. It's connected to all devices, and pieces of it are stored all over the ship. Unlike the mythical internet, the Datasphere can actually be visited with the right mind-set and equipment.

There are many people whom pretty much live within the Datasphere, and ignore all else. There are AI that, only within the 'sphere, are larger then life itself. There are Coderunners and Immersives. There are even black hats and white hats, terms that have been around so long, few if any know their etymology. All they know is that black hats are bad, and white hats are good.

So the Datasphere is just another layer of the Aeternus, really. It's more complex in some ways, but simpler in others. It has it's own benefits and drawbacks, it's own cultures and taboos. It's disconnected from the physical world, but also... connected to everything.

Every screen.

Every monitor.

Every datapad.

Every residence.

It doesn't take much to get at least a tenuous connection to the Datasphere. The Aeternus could survive without it... but the inhabitants aboard might not function quite as well or efficiently. So the known relays that power and keep the Datasphere alive are guarded zealously, and it's another unspoken law aboard the ship: You can mess with a lot, but don't mess too much with the Datasphere. That's the domain of the Navigator, almost more than anywhere else.

It came as a surprise then, that after the 5239th successful slip space jump, every external monitor, every datapad, every communicator - everywhere physically on board the Aeternus that has a connection to the 'sphere - there was an announcement. It was not the Navigator.

Screens suddenly turned on or flickered blue, and a voice - deep, electronic, untraceable - started speaking next to the words 'NEVER FORGET'.

"Some of what was lost has been found. The map exists. The ship can't hide itself from itself. Find the map. FIND THE BLUEPRINTS."

Through a leak on the Datasphere, it's been confirmed that there is an ancient data drive that contains blue prints for some or all of the Aeternus.

While this news itself is momentous, and sends many searching for the missing map, some occupants are concerned that NEVER FORGET has somehow managed to slip a message into the ship-wide announcement protocols through the Datasphere. Coderunners and any curious white hats are asked to investigate.


March 12, 327 Lost Era
House of the Navigator
Afternoon

All she'd wanted was to have a few peaceful interactions with some Initiates. Maybe give some instructions, have a meeting with others of the New Order, discuss - again - the potential of getting some members into the Coderunners. So far they'd been thwarted, but there were some particularly promising Acolytes who seemed more likely to align themselves with the New Order than the old...incredibly intelligent, and more logical than some others.

Including herself, she supposed. It wasn't exactly a secret that she was passionate about the Navigator, and passionate about connecting with her. Someday.

After the morning she'd had, the routine of business and leadership was meant to be calming. Damien exploding things, bleeding, Kira getting hurt...it hadn't exactly been the relaxing coffee break she'd been hoping for at the beginning of the jump.

"Some of what was lost has been found. The map exists. The ship can't hide itself from itself. Find the map. FIND THE BLUEPRINTS."

It was not to be.

Even within the House of the Navigator, the screens flashed the message, lit up on peoples' wristtops, flashed across Adriana's implants. And pandemonium broke out.

----

A bit later...

"Look. As much as you don't like it, this is a sign. Someone or something has exposed the truth - that there ARE maps, blueprints, ways to reach the Navigator, that there's a system, something--"

"Novitate-Elect Thera, you are overstepping your boundaries." The Novitate sat forward on his chair, steepling his fingers before his face. "I understand that you're part of the hot-headed crew who thinks that Coderunners, and their bastard mutant babies, the Immersives, are 'messages' from the Navigator. That you're obsessed with learning more of the Navigator's secrets. But that is not what we are here for! We are here to protect and serve the will of the Navigator, not unravel it!"

"And what if this is the will of the Navigator? What if it is her will that we find her? That we understand her? Do you think that she would allow this sort of message to pop up everywhere if it wasn't her intention?" Adriana tapped her temples. "It showed up in my eyes, Novitate Lemir."

"Adriana, be quiet!" Nariana had had enough of her daughter's outspokenness, and it showed in the sharpness of her voice. "This meeting was not called to discuss the merits of a clearly wicked message, sent by some sort of...of...Dark Sim hacker! This meeting was called to discuss protections for the House, protections for our members! If whoever sent that message can hack into every system, who knows what else they can do?!?"

"Novitate-Elect Thera right, though..." Novitate-Elect Barra, an older man, nodded in Adriana's direction. Dark eyes flashed with conviction as he slapped his hand down on the round table. "If this is truly a message from the Navigator, and we ignore it, then we are not doing our duty as caretakers of her word--"

"What is this calling the Navigator 'her,' Barra?" The Novitate shook his head. "Have you fallen in with this so-called 'New Order' crowd? The Navigator is the Navigator, endless and infinite. It does not need to be confined by our pathetic understandings of gender. Now, what we need to do is immediately send out mass messages encouraging people to ignore this 'Never Forget' nonsense, leaning heavily on it being the work of a rogue hacker or Coderunner--"

"We've only just improved our relations with the Coderunners! And you want to accuse them of being involved in some massive, ship-wide hacking?!?"

"Novitate-Elect Thera, hold your tongue." Novitate Lemir fixed steel-blue eyes on the young woman, and though his voice was calm, there was a wealth of anger hidden in his face. "You've had more than enough opportunity to speak. If you pipe up out of turn again, I will remove your status and demote you to Initiate."

A collective gasp was heard, and Nariana's hands flew to her mouth. It had been decades since a Novitate-Elect had been stripped of their rankings...almost out of their collective memories. Adriana went very still, then stood, slowly.

"As you wish, Novitate Lemir. If my opinion is no longer welcome at this Council, I shall remove myself from it."

"Adriana, wait--" Nariana's words fell on deaf ears as Adriana exited the Sanctum, fingers twitching.

Kira-
I need to talk to you. Big things are happening. Shifts in the wind are coming sooner than expected.
I won't be at home. I'll be walking. Message me as soon as you can. Bring Damien if you can, too. I have questions.

The message that appeared on every screen has thrown the Cult of the Navigator into turmoil. Adriana's position within the Cult overall is uncertain, but the New Order is growing fractious, and she is one of the de facto heads. Messages will begin to appear in peoples' inboxes, public chats, and as commercials on various ANE channels - "The Will of the Navigator is absolute, this message is a trick and a lie. Forget Never Forget. Do not search for the map. Do not search for the blueprints."

[Snowfire]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
House of the Navigator
Afternoon

All she'd wanted was to have a few peaceful interactions with some Initiates. Maybe give some instructions, have a meeting with others of the New Order, discuss - again - the potential of getting some members into the Coderunners. So far they'd been thwarted, but there were some particularly promising Acolytes who seemed more likely to align themselves with the New Order than the old...incredibly intelligent, and more logical than some others.

Including herself, she supposed. It wasn't exactly a secret that she was passionate about the Navigator, and passionate about connecting with her. Someday.

After the morning she'd had, the routine of business and leadership was meant to be calming. Damien exploding things, bleeding, Kira getting hurt...it hadn't exactly been the relaxing coffee break she'd been hoping for at the beginning of the jump.

"Some of what was lost has been found. The map exists. The ship can't hide itself from itself. Find the map. FIND THE BLUEPRINTS."

It was not to be.

Even within the House of the Navigator, the screens flashed the message, lit up on peoples' wristtops, flashed across Adriana's implants. And pandemonium broke out.

----

A bit later...

"Look. As much as you don't like it, this is a sign. Someone or something has exposed the truth - that there ARE maps, blueprints, ways to reach the Navigator, that there's a system, something--"

"Novitate-Elect Thera, you are overstepping your boundaries." The Novitate sat forward on his chair, steepling his fingers before his face. "I understand that you're part of the hot-headed crew who thinks that Coderunners, and their bastard mutant babies, the Immersives, are 'messages' from the Navigator. That you're obsessed with learning more of the Navigator's secrets. But that is not what we are here for! We are here to protect and serve the will of the Navigator, not unravel it!"

"And what if this is the will of the Navigator? What if it is her will that we find her? That we understand her? Do you think that she would allow this sort of message to pop up everywhere if it wasn't her intention?" Adriana tapped her temples. "It showed up in my eyes, Novitate Lemir."

"Adriana, be quiet!" Nariana had had enough of her daughter's outspokenness, and it showed in the sharpness of her voice. "This meeting was not called to discuss the merits of a clearly wicked message, sent by some sort of...of...Dark Sim hacker! This meeting was called to discuss protections for the House, protections for our members! If whoever sent that message can hack into every system, who knows what else they can do?!?"

"Novitate-Elect Thera right, though..." Novitate-Elect Barra, an older man, nodded in Adriana's direction. Dark eyes flashed with conviction as he slapped his hand down on the round table. "If this is truly a message from the Navigator, and we ignore it, then we are not doing our duty as caretakers of her word--"

"What is this calling the Navigator 'her,' Barra?" The Novitate shook his head. "Have you fallen in with this so-called 'New Order' crowd? The Navigator is the Navigator, endless and infinite. It does not need to be confined by our pathetic understandings of gender. Now, what we need to do is immediately send out mass messages encouraging people to ignore this 'Never Forget' nonsense, leaning heavily on it being the work of a rogue hacker or Coderunner--"

"We've only just improved our relations with the Coderunners! And you want to accuse them of being involved in some massive, ship-wide hacking?!?"

"Novitate-Elect Thera, hold your tongue." Novitate Lemir fixed steel-blue eyes on the young woman, and though his voice was calm, there was a wealth of anger hidden in his face. "You've had more than enough opportunity to speak. If you pipe up out of turn again, I will remove your status and demote you to Initiate."

A collective gasp was heard, and Nariana's hands flew to her mouth. It had been decades since a Novitate-Elect had been stripped of their rankings...almost out of their collective memories. Adriana went very still, then stood, slowly.

"As you wish, Novitate Lemir. If my opinion is no longer welcome at this Council, I shall remove myself from it."

"Adriana, wait--" Nariana's words fell on deaf ears as Adriana exited the Sanctum, fingers twitching.

Kira-
I need to talk to you. Big things are happening. Shifts in the wind are coming sooner than expected.
I won't be at home. I'll be walking. Message me as soon as you can. Bring Damien if you can, too. I have questions.

The message that appeared on every screen has thrown the Cult of the Navigator into turmoil. Adriana's position within the Cult overall is uncertain, but the New Order is growing fractious, and she is one of the de facto heads. Messages will begin to appear in peoples' inboxes, public chats, and as commercials on various ANE channels - "The Will of the Navigator is absolute, this message is a trick and a lie. Forget Never Forget. Do not search for the map. Do not search for the blueprints."

Kira had only just finished filing the returns from Damien and Ollie when the message from Adri flipped out of the side of her environment in the 'sphere. She was staying out of the Substrate for now, she didn't want to risk getting in anyone's way. The CAS message had hit the entire 'Runner community two minutes ago, naming Lea the head of the investigation. Some backlash had already occurred, but when it was revealed that the Immersives already had leads most of it quietened. The Coderunners were going to watch them like hawks, but that was ok. That they'd been able to show that they knew what they were doing had helped a lot in getting people to trust them.

She read over the message with half her attention as she flipped through the last few signatures on Ollie's authority control, then ground to a halt just as she hit send, as the meat Adri's message processed. Oh drek. The Cult. She tossed a short message into a Substrate path to Lea, then flipped her attention back to the message from her friend.

Big things...shifts...Adri had talked about changes before, with the New order and other thing - oh no. No, no, no. They could not deal with that right now! The first wave of messages were already starting to move, propelled by RCs and carefully hoarded authority into the general network of the Aeternus. They needed everyone looking for anything that might lead them to the source of that message, not trying to bloody forget about it! She almost locked the messages out of the system right then and there, but managed to stop herself. Most of those swayed already wouldn't help, but more than that she needed to talk to Adri about this if it was really going to be as big as her friend had sometimes waxed philosophical about.

One part of her attention locked into the only slightly decayed connection path to Damien, happily finding that he'd reengaged a VR. Did she have time to knock? Yes, but only just. She sent the query immediately, hoping for a swift reply. There was a twisting sort of string attached to it that he would - she hoped - recognise as an apology. It was the best she could do.

With the rest of her attention, she traced Adri's message back to her friend's implants and started triangulating. Just outside of the Sanctum...that was close enough to her. And...oh to hell with it. Her parents would be busy, they would find out anyway in the end, and she had the space here in private where she could be certain that no one was going to be listening. She composed a short message in the few seconds required for Damien to reply to her query - with an affirmative, thankfully - and then sent it as she re-opened the link to him.

Adri,
You're close enough to my place that you should be able to get here in ten to fifteen minutes. Deck 8, a travel-path is included in this message. I'll do what I can with Damien. We won't have more than a few hours, Coderunner business, but I can give you that. I hope that we'll be able to answer your questions, and I'll see you soon.
Kira



March 12, 327LE -=Mid-Day=-
Damien "Dreamweaver" Romero
Damien's Flat (Deck 96)

Damien looked up at the pane that had suddenly reopened itself; cognizant of the fact that Kira wouldn't deliberately intrude on what should have been a closed link unless it was necessary. Unless, of course, I forgot to check the closed link box... Not my problem right now. As she discussed the nature of the forms he'd need to sign, Damien was only halfway paying attention as he read over the transferred files; an eyebrow raising as he went over the language. "Some real heavy drek here, Kira. Guess this isn't a story I'm passing on to the grandkids if I ever become an old, bearded geezer with augs in." He chuckled ruefully, signing his Alias signature to the forms before sending them back over.

"Don't worry. I understand you need my help. Given my past, the crew I used to run with, unless you felt like popping one of the ex-RAMJets out of isolation, or trying to go it dark, I may be the last person with intimate knowledge of how Dark-Sim works. It's my home more than my flat is, after all." A slight exhale as he closed his eyes, force-closing the instance he was in and hopping out of the VR chair, a little bit bleary from the chemical cocktail that the chair had injected him with. Luckily, he wasn't yet courting force-shock yet, but he was still groggy.

He riffled through his closet, looking for the slightly dressier outfit he had. It'd been modified from a black sport-coat, inlaid with fiber-optic detailing at the edges that responded to a wireless transmitter in the collar, effortlessly linking with his augmentations to display the same colors that his eyes and the filigree in his braids gave. Tasteful, but still out there in terms of casual wear-- this was typically what he wore when meeting with clients. And honestly, wasn't that what he was about to do?

A message from Kira popped up in AR, and Damien's fingers flicked slightly, the implants in his fingers giving the sense of pressure from poking at the AR window, the message snapping to the side of his vision as he went about showering. "Deck 3... Hm. Coderunner authority really is something else, innit? ...16:00. Well, that'll give me enough time to set my VR status to on a job... Esper status is ok? Wonders never cease..." He was murmuring to himself, and soon enough, was out of the shower and dressing. Sure, it wasn't a typical ship-suit, but he wasn't a big fan of them in the first place.

Part of him considered hopping back into VR, something light. Something that could take his mind off the fact that his father wasn't here to see this. Sure, he wasn't a de-facto Coderunner, but this was big. Part of him knew that he only had about 2 or 3 hours before the transport was supposed to show. He shrugged, before finding a 2-hour sedative, slipping it beneath his tongue and letting it dissolve as he reclined into the VR chair, only to reappear in the Escherwave instance, Merlin trotting up to him with a bird caught between his teeth. He fired off a quick message to Kira before petting his cat, a smile spreading across his face as the lights in his braids and eyes faded from yellow to tranquil cyan.

I'm taking your word on the Esper status thing. I know it's not exactly making you any friends up there. See you when we touch down.

Kira looked almost stressed as she popped back up in front of Damien, again, with a look on her face that blended hope, trepidation and worry. It took her a few moments to compose her thoughts actually, pulling back from the message and swift-trace she'd run to focus properly on what she needed to ask.

"I...um...I know we just got off the link Damien, and I'm sorry, but...I just got a message from Adri." She flashed a sanitised version of it across the link, just pure text. "I don't know if you, um, if you keep up with Cult politics, but I can't help it with her as a friend, and...there are some deep waters that this might have stirred. I've already seen a first wave of 'Forget Never Forget' start hitting the public nets, and if she gets answers to her questions she might be able to stop some of it."

"I...I can move up your flight to right now if you're willing to come up? My place?"

[Netjester]

Kira had only just finished filing the returns from Damien and Ollie when the message from Adri flipped out of the side of her environment in the 'sphere. She was staying out of the Substrate for now, she didn't want to risk getting in anyone's way. The CAS message had hit the entire 'Runner community two minutes ago, naming Lea the head of the investigation. Some backlash had already occurred, but when it was revealed that the Immersives already had leads most of it quietened. The Coderunners were going to watch them like hawks, but that was ok. That they'd been able to show that they knew what they were doing had helped a lot in getting people to trust them.

She read over the message with half her attention as she flipped through the last few signatures on Ollie's authority control, then ground to a halt just as she hit send, as the meat Adri's message processed. Oh drek. The Cult. She tossed a short message into a Substrate path to Lea, then flipped her attention back to the message from her friend.

Big things...shifts...Adri had talked about changes before, with the New order and other thing - oh no. No, no, no. They could not deal with that right now! The first wave of messages were already starting to move, propelled by RCs and carefully hoarded authority into the general network of the Aeternus. They needed everyone looking for anything that might lead them to the source of that message, not trying to bloody forget about it! She almost locked the messages out of the system right then and there, but managed to stop herself. Most of those swayed already wouldn't help, but more than that she needed to talk to Adri about this if it was really going to be as big as her friend had sometimes waxed philosophical about.

One part of her attention locked into the only slightly decayed connection path to Damien, happily finding that he'd reengaged a VR. Did she have time to knock? Yes, but only just. She sent the query immediately, hoping for a swift reply. There was a twisting sort of string attached to it that he would - she hoped - recognise as an apology. It was the best she could do.

With the rest of her attention, she traced Adri's message back to her friend's implants and started triangulating. Just outside of the Sanctum...that was close enough to her. And...oh to hell with it. Her parents would be busy, they would find out anyway in the end, and she had the space here in private where she could be certain that no one was going to be listening. She composed a short message in the few seconds required for Damien to reply to her query - with an affirmative, thankfully - and then sent it as she re-opened the link to him.

Adri,
You're close enough to my place that you should be able to get here in ten to fifteen minutes. Deck 8, a travel-path is included in this message. I'll do what I can with Damien. We won't have more than a few hours, Coderunner business, but I can give you that. I hope that we'll be able to answer your questions, and I'll see you soon.
Kira



Kira looked almost stressed as she popped back up in front of Damien, again, with a look on her face that blended hope, trepidation and worry. It took her a few moments to compose her thoughts actually, pulling back from the message and swift-trace she'd run to focus properly on what she needed to ask.

"I...um...I know we just got off the link Damien, and I'm sorry, but...I just got a message from Adri." She flashed a sanitised version of it across the link, just pure text. "I don't know if you, um, if you keep up with Cult politics, but I can't help it with her as a friend, and...there are some deep waters that this might have stirred. I've already seen a first wave of 'Forget Never Forget' start hitting the public nets, and if she gets answers to her questions she might be able to stop some of it."

"I...I can move up your flight to right now if you're willing to come up? My place?"

Damien was in the middle of petting his cat, staring up at the true-random fractals that unwound themselves in the sky, before a series of ping packets hit his instance, with a message. Yep. Definitely Kira. A connection request sprang up, and Merlin's ears perked up, trying to bat at it. He punched accept, and laid back with Merlin on his chest, still steady petting it as Kira's VR form sprang into existence next to him. "Y'know, one of these days, I need to figure out how to Immersive-proof my closed links. I might even win a technological enterprise award... Before being hauled away." He snorted before leaning up on his forearms, the cat springing off Damien's chest to rub against Kira's VR form.

"Curious! Human!" The VR cat chirped, purring softly as it coiled between her ankles.

She began speaking, and then Damien's eyebrows raised. "Wait. Cult politics? Never paid much attention to it; but it's all really the same at the bottom of any group function. Religious cults, political parties, security details, it's group-think at the base. Mob mentality. Which means that if drek's hitting the fan with the cult, there's some kind of corruption at the top level trying to control the fallout." He groaned softly, pushing himself to his feet before dusting his lap.

"Yeah. I'll show; I suppose she'll likely have questions that I'm more suited to answer than you would. Hopefully, I'll be of some kind of use."

[BlueHerring]

Andrew Vega
March 12, 327 LE
Afternoon

Andrew followed Ollie as the Chief Engineer made his way to the lift hub, but Andrew was occupied with plugging in various things into his datapad. Between keeping ID-15 tucked under one arm and following the Chief, it took Andrew quite a bit of time to send a message to the EHMC Chief Engineers.

"Engineer Vega reporting. Following Chief Engineer Ahberon to investigate the message. Kindly send my tools back to my apartment. I'll be needing them."

Andrew finally followed Ollie into the lift as the door opened, and sighed. ID-15 hovered, flying over to Chief Ahberon and circling his head with the occasional beep. Andrew took a seat, and snatched his drone from the air once more.

"I had no idea you'd come here, Chief. Mind stopping by my apartment after we meet with the Coderunners? I've got some things I need to pick up there, if that's possible."

[Jade_Tarem]

Shelly and Ash and Spectre
March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

The fire escape got them as far as the rooftop hangar. One of PALADIN Precinct Office 326's peculiarities was the fact that it was coterminous with a major intra-ship transit hub. Most hover-type vehicles could freely access it, which was why it boasted a disproportionately large garage and hangar, not to mention how it was able to summon reinforcements so quickly. It was also convenient to civilian visitors, which was the only reason Shelly had picked it to begin with.

That worked against them, now. As fast as they had made their break, PALADIN cruisers were already streaking in. Ash saw two of them collide, to the sound of the Rembrandts, of all things, but a third roared to a stop with a hotshot maneuver that caused the machine to loudly protest even as it declared the pilot to be ex-service, perhaps even a mobile frame operator. The door popped open, and Ash found herself once again weighing her options.

She could sense Spectre with the bike - apparently for her and Shelly - but it was on the other side of the PALADIN cruiser. Normally, she could watch her new acquaintance beat up officers all day, but now things were time critical. The longer they stayed, the more PALADIN personnel would show up, and no amount of Space-Fu from Shelly was going to prevent a couple dozen armed officers from swarming them. The psychic found herself stalking directly toward the cruiser, palming the electric weaponry she'd swiped from one of the officers near the vault, and hoped Shelly was on her heels. "We don't have your stupid drive core!" She shouted, "If you want, I'll race you to finding it, but I'm not going to sit in a cell while you look up how to spell 'Antimatter Emulsion' so you can accuse me of it."

[Kitsanth]

12th March, 327 LE
Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold

"It's very kind of you to offer Ms. Lowell. But as much as I would appreciate the assistance I simply must return immediately or I'd have to reprimand myself for medical misconduct in not giving my injury the proper attention and I could not in good conscience demand you abandon your errands merely to assist me. After all, it is my own fault I am injured. I'm stronger than I look, I'll manage."
Given how strong he looked he must have been exaggerating.
"Really, you've done more than enough for me as is."


-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Afternoon
Treasure Hold


"No, I think it's broken." a short man in a fancy suit said to the tall lady by his side, "I'm sure someone around here could use a courier bot and I do have spares." The man grinned, obviously trying to impress his companion with his generosity. She returned a smile and replied, "How ni- Oh." The pair's faces changed instantly as the ship-wide broadcast played on all of their devices. As soon as the message had finished, the lady grinned and turned to her companion who was staring at his wristtop. His face was pale as the lady grabbed him by the arm and started dragging him away. "Imagine if we find those blueprints first!" she said excitedly.

Meanwhile, Zyn was very unaware of any such blueprints. 'A courier bot! That would be rather useful for me! If it is only a software issue I can surely fix it.' Zyn excitedly sends to Rikki.

A broken courier bot happens to be lying abandonned in the Treasure Hold near Rikki and Zyn!

327 L.E. March 12th
Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold

Right, offer declined. Time to be getting on with things then.

"Well, if you're sure..." Rikki glanced down at her wristtop, flicking the screen open. "I do have somewhere to be. Until we meet again Doctor."

And with a small farewell wave Rikki set off.

'I have a feeling that we'll be seeing him again sometime, she sent to Zyn.

Market Day was as good a reason as any to head to the Treasure Hold. But that was not the only reason Rikki had come here today. Li Chang Hao, an old friend of her father, maintained a shop-front here. He was a specialist in the area of custom portable computing devices and two weeks previous Rikki had commissioned a special piece from him. That this trip also meant exposing Zyn to some new experiences was a bonus.

His store was down on Sapphire level, in the midst of a group of similar shops. Navigating crowded walkways was easy, deterring pickpockets required barely a second thought, but thinking of how best to tell Zyn of the gift she had gotten made for him? That took some effort.

Just as she reached both Sapphire level and a conclusion, two things occurred to break her from her contemplative state; an odd message that seemed to be some sort of ship-wide broadcast about blueprints and Zyn's voice breaking into her thoughts.


'A courier bot! That would be rather useful for me! If it is only a software issue I can surely fix it.'


Was I unconsciously sending audio? Rikki wondered.

She mentally shook herself; idle speculation later, paying attention now. Looking about she soon spotted said drone Zyn mentioned. It was just laying by a wall, clearly abandoned. There was no sign of any potential owners and it seemed to be structurally sound. And more importantly, no one else seemed to have noticed it... which was probably an effect of the odd broadcast.

Eye-balling it she sent Zyn a brief image, 'I assume this is what you were after.'

Given that it still seemed no one was paying attention Rikki walked over and picked it up anyway. To be honest appropriating abandoned tech such as this drone and that HSD the thief had been using earlier barely conflicted with Rikki's personal morals. Even if Zyn didn't find some use for it or fix it, it could always be sold to someone for parts.

[Snowfire]

Damien was in the middle of petting his cat, staring up at the true-random fractals that unwound themselves in the sky, before a series of ping packets hit his instance, with a message. Yep. Definitely Kira. A connection request sprang up, and Merlin's ears perked up, trying to bat at it. He punched accept, and laid back with Merlin on his chest, still steady petting it as Kira's VR form sprang into existence next to him. "Y'know, one of these days, I need to figure out how to Immersive-proof my closed links. I might even win a technological enterprise award... Before being hauled away." He snorted before leaning up on his forearms, the cat springing off Damien's chest to rub against Kira's VR form.

"Curious! Human!" The VR cat chirped, purring softly as it coiled between her ankles.

She began speaking, and then Damien's eyebrows raised. "Wait. Cult politics? Never paid much attention to it; but it's all really the same at the bottom of any group function. Religious cults, political parties, security details, it's group-think at the base. Mob mentality. Which means that if drek's hitting the fan with the cult, there's some kind of corruption at the top level trying to control the fallout." He groaned softly, pushing himself to his feet before dusting his lap.

"Yeah. I'll show; I suppose she'll likely have questions that I'm more suited to answer than you would. Hopefully, I'll be of some kind of use."

Kira laughed as Merlin coiled between her ankles, reaching down and bouncing him up onto her shoulder to pet him. She laughed at his reaction, suddenly brilliantly happy as she listened to Damien's reply. Then she pounced forward and hugged him as he agreed, content to temporarily ignore the vague sounds of not-quite-discontent from Merlin.

"Thanks Damien." She moved back a little and let Merlin down, winking at Damien before she clapped, triggering the same code sequence that he'd used a few minutes ago to release a small flock of birds in the cat's direction. And when she looked back at him, there was a deep affection in her eyes. "Really. This means a lot." She flicked something invisible and a dozen various panels sprang into existence around her. Selecting one with the header 'Aeternus Transport Network', she called up a particular request and adjusted a few things.

"There we go, I've changed the time and edited in the new destination for the flight." She folded the entire mess of virtual panels into nothingness with a gesture, and then gave him another - smaller - hug. "I'll have something for any VR-shock you might get on hand when you get here. It won't take long." She looked over at Merlin, who was happily chasing the birds she'd triggered into the instance. "And Damien, if you can code well enough to make him, your being an Esper isn't even going to register. Trust me. I'll see you soon."

[ChronicLunacy]

http://imageshack.com/a/img905/173/7jwXT2.jpg Detective-Inspector Anders Beckett and Maria Seldon
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Low-Hab
Late-Morning

Beckett got off the mass transit tubes in a particularly grimy part of the low hab. Loosening his weapon in its shoulder holster, but using his coat to keep it hidden from prying eyes, he swept his eagle-eyes across the block. This was the place the map in the file the PALADINs had given him had picked out for Maria Seldon. Not bad overall, but he still wasn't going to advertise his occupation to these people. He hung a left into a hab block, went past a fire-in-a-barrel crowded around by some disreputable looking types, and hopped a makeshift barricade someone had put up in order to get himself to Maria's door.

Oddly enough, past the barricade, the hab changed rather suddenly. It was still LowHab, there was no changing that, but the walls were free of graffiti and the halls looked recently swept. And at the center of the little neighborhood of decency was a hab cube marked as The Seldons.

Keeping a paranoid eye out, he knocked twice on the door.


* * * * *

Maria had just finished cleaning the disaster zone that was Shelly's room when a knock came at the door. Her eyes darted to the clock set in the main room's wall - still a few hours before her husband would normally be home, and both her sons would be busy after the emergence from Slip Space. She wasn't expecting any callers.

With a practiced stride, Maria moved to the closet in her bedroom and retrieved the PALADIN shock baton her son had lent her for personal defense. The molded rubber handle was warm in her hand, and the low hum of the baton charging up gave her a boost of courage. She hated assuming the worst about people, but in LowHab it could be a deadly mistake to take chances. With that in mind, she made her way to the front door and activated the view port and door speaker. The man outside looked suspicious, but then again so did everyone in LowHab.

"May I help you?"

"Maria Seldon? Detective Beckett. I'd like to talk to you about the stray you picked up recently. Has a tendency to come home covered in other peoples' blood?" Beckett announced rather bruskly, holding his credentials up to the viewport in order to show her that he was legitimately part of the Officer Corps. "She's not in trouble. I just want to ask her, and you, a few questions about the circumstances of her arrival. May I come in, please?" he asked. As polite as the last sentence would have seemed out of anyone else's mouth, somehow Beckett made it seem like it irritated him to even have to say them. Or that he had something else he'd rather be doing than have to sit there and be civil for five minutes. Still, the badge looked legitimate enough.

After a moment, the electric lock on the door disengaged and it slid open. Maria Seldon was standing a few feet beyond it, shock baton hidden surreptitiously in a nearby drawer. A woman in her mid forties who looked to be in her fifties, her face was still marked more by laugh lines than the wrinkles of decrepitude. The hab cube beyond the door, like the neighborhood around them, seemed almost too nice for LowHab, no doubt due to her considerable efforts.

"Please, come inside Detective."

She led him into the main room proper, where an often-patched sofa and pair of sturdy chairs stood around a low table. Taking one of the chairs, she motioned to the sofa.

"You're here because of Shelly? You just missed her actually - she went down to the Treasure Hold a little while ago. I'm sorry, but I'm not sure how much help I can be. She still hasn't remembered anything, at least not that she's told me. She is a very sweet girl, though."

Beckett studied the room, then the woman herself as he came in, noting with his nearly preternatural senses the slight tilt to one of the drawers where she had hastily hid something. Probably something hand-held, maybe a weapon or a communications device. "Thank you, ma'am." he said, having the manners at least to take his hat off inside. He did a circuit of the room, unable to keep from snooping at least a little, before sitting down in the offered seat on the couch.

"I'd like to speak to Shelly about the circumstances of her arrival. However, I'd also like to speak to you about her. If you don't mind, can you run me through how you found her? What she was like? Has she adjusted well? Please, be specific. Don't skip any detail that you remember. The smallest thing is sometimes significant."

Maria was quiet for a long moment after Beckett's question, but the silence was split quite suddenly by the sound of a whistling kettle from another room. The older woman jumped at the sound, revealing how tense she truly was, then gave the detective an apologetic smile.

"I was just making some tea. Can I pour you a cup?"

She stood and moved to the kitchen before Beckett had a chance to reply, her voice drifting through the cramped hab.

"Shelly is...she's a lovely girl. Shy, timid, but that's to be expected when you can't remember your own name. I wasn't the one who found her first, though I can see how the report might say that as I was the one who contacted PALADIN. Just a girl covered in blood, wearing a hospital gown and curled into a fetal position on the deck. Before I got there, I don't think anyone had had the courage to get within a dozen feet of her, but I sat with her until the officers came. She barely said a word, poor dear, and when they tracked her trail they lost it near the entrance to a Dark Section that's been sealed since before I was born. Very strange."

There was the sound of cabinets opening, the clink of cheap tin cups on a platter.

"Since then not much has changed. Oh, she's opened up some, but she's still a mystery wrapped in an enigma. If she's remembered anything, she hasn't shared it with me. That's why I sent her to the Treasure Hold to buy some new clothes - I hoped it might help jog her memory. But you wanted details, so let me think...the gown we found her in looked new, and expensive, like something from the Central Infirmary, not one of the clinics from around here. PALADIN confirmed she was uninjured, so the blood wasn't hers, even though she was frightfully chill to the touch. Now that is one strange thing, though - beneath the blood, it looked like she'd just come from some Upper Deck salon, nails done, hair trimmed, the works. She probably would have been the cleanest thing we'd seen in some time down here if not for, well, the blood. But even that's not the strangest thing, detective."

There was the sound of footsteps, and Maria emerged with a platter in her hands holding a pair of well cared for but cheap cups and a small plate of chocolate cookies that looked like a gift from the Mid Decks. The kettle, though, looked like an antique from the ship's launch, a beautiful heavy thing made entirely of burnished steel. It was a perfect antique, except for the finger marks indented into the metal handle. Maria set down the platter, and looked meaningfully at the kettle.

"Shelly did that. Oh, she didn't mean to, she never does, but she dropped it and had to grab to keep it from falling you see. And when she's acting fast, she doesn't know her own strength. I've never seen anyone that strong, detective, not in an entire life surrounded by PALADIN officers and industrial personnel. Whatever mystery Shelly's got locked away, that's a big part of it, I'm sure."

Beckett studied the indentations carefully for almost a minute, only being interrupted when the communicator on his wrist went off with about a dozen warnings and PALADIN alerts. "The Treasure Hold, you say...?" he said, mostly to himself. Then he began to hurriedly pick himself up. "Thank you for the tea, Mrs. Seldon. I'll be in touch." he excused himself and made a beeline for the door, not offering much in the way of explanation.

He needed to get to PALADIN HQ...and fast. He had a feeling the excrement had just hit the rotating airflow device. And here he was, halfway across the damn ship!

Co-Written by TheDarkDM.

[zabbarot]

FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
Low Habitability Zones/Lower Habitats
00:05:22, Evening

It had been a strange day. Shortly after reaching LowHab FS16K4 realized that he had no idea where to begin looking for the map. The Navigator did not know. So that must mean that none of the humans know either. The humans just seemed to be doing regular human things though. /* Peculiar. */

He approached a young lady beside the street. "Excuse me, fellow human. Do you know where I might find the map?" FS16K4 was surprised to see her hurry away with an anxious look. /* She must be in a hurry. */

A bit further up the path he found an older man. "Excuse me, fellow human. Do you know where I might find the map?" To FS16K4's supreme delight the old man offered an answer. Unfortunately it was simply "No", but that was a marked improvement. Surely he was getting better at socializing with humans.

[Kasanip]

March 12,327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

"Understood! Full speed ahead, Yan!"

Gripping the armrests, Theo watched the surroundings fly by outside as the G-forces from Tatyana's maneuver pressed him back into his seat. His face held a grin of excitement, but his churning stomach was probably wishing he was as naturally acclimated to the forces as his partner was. When the vehicle finally came to a stop, he let out a breath and leaned over for a good look at the precinct (after a quick glance at Yan's look of satisfaction).

"Mmm... makes sense to me," he said, thinking over Yan's comment. "If the scoundrels get their hands on some of our heavy frames, we'll have a serious fight on our hands. Or if they take one of our cruisers, they could turn tail and run before I even have the chance to face them down and...!"

He clapped his hands together in decision and started to get out of the vehicle.

"Excellent idea, Yan! Let's head straight to the hangar to secure the place. Of course, I can lead the way - are you seeing any good vantage points to watch the area from?"


Yan safely lowered the vehicle for Theo to exit.
"I was thinking to stay above the hangar exit, so no one can leave." She replied to Theo.
However it seemed the situation was becoming comical. One vehicle exited and it crashed into an arrived vehicle. It was an absurd situation. No one was that stupid of a pilot. Even a criminal isn't so stupid. However, it happened.

"It's like the elites of our organization suddenly appeared to be incompetent like lazy Officer Corps police." Yan muttered with a sigh.
She turned to look at Theo.
"It was probably a distraction." She started to say. However, there was someone approaching now. Of course the door was open, however Theo had not left. Was he distracted?
"Theo?"

[ChronicLunacy]

http://imageshack.com/a/img905/173/7jwXT2.jpg Detective-Inspector Anders Beckett
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Low-Hab to Paladin Precinct 326
Late-Morning

"Get out." Beckett said to the pissed off aircab driver with the nose ring.

"Hey man, I fixed this thing up myself! You can't just-" he protested.

"Officer Corps. business, and more importantly, I'm the guy holding a plasma pistol to your head. If I fire this it will go through your skull as well as that durasteel wall over there and into the next compartment and I'll have a lot of paperwork to fill out. Now get out!"

"Alright, man! Fine, geez! Hey, they'll compensate me for damages, right?"

"What? Yes! Now, uh, shoo!" Beckett sighed and pulled the guy out of the driver's seat.

"Hey, man, you ever hear of police brutality?"

"I wrote the book. Uh...thanks." he closed the door and gunned the engine, shooting down the "highway" at ridiculously inappropriate speeds. Beckett shouldered more expensive hover rigs out of the way, which resulted in a lot of honking and probably some formal complaints to Officer Corps. HQ, but he hadn't ever let that stop him before. He glanced at his wristcomp again, seeing a whole new set of Paladin emergency alerts pop up on the feed, with holographic images of Ash Eigan and a figure they couldn't quite get a good picture of. What interested him most, however, was one gorgeous, young woman with short, black hair that he'd been tracking since that morning.

"Oh yes, Mrs. Seldon, she's just a sweet girl. Couldn't harm a fly. Why's she listed as 'armed and dangerous' then?" he muttered to himself as he careened around a luxury coach, scratching its paint along the way, and swerved across several lanes to exit toward Paladin Precinct 326. "Innocent girl, covered in blood. Let's not pry into this; obviously there's nothing else going on! &$%@ing amateurs..." he continued to grumble.

[Tychris1]

327 Lost Era, March 12th, Morning
LowHab, The Perpetual Neighbour

Wilbert mumbled to himself, idly scratching at his head as he continued to enjoy his drink. It'd been a long time since the last time he'd work, longer till since he held a job. Going back into the work force, even on such a small errand, for someone like her it.... Well it scared him. He let the question sit for half an hour, watching as the officials left the watering hole, and once everything had been said and done he piped up.

"Well.... Well sure why not. What uh.... Um do you have in mind anyway?"

March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

When Wilbert shed his skin, when he donned the suit and entered that part of his mind, he hardly felt human. It was like viewing the world through a different lense, everything was sharper, crisper, cleaner. And when he overclocked his suit it was like looking in a fun house mirror. It only lasted a short while before things got out of hand, but in that short frame of time, Wilbert felt more heroic then in any role he'd played before. Which was how he felt now, sprinting down hallways and around surprised bystanders, a bolt of red and orange lightning zapping out of sight kicking up all mighty hell in the process. He'd overheard PALADIN frequencies thanks to the overclocking and picked up on some kind of attempted escape/kidnapping in progress. The details were blurry, drowned partially by the ocean of sounds Wilbert had to sift through to pinpoint the single source he actually wanted to listen to, but it would have to do. He had a location and a will to follow through, adrenaline coursing through his veins he slide on his knees, scorching the ground beneath him as he spun his direction with a pole, and zoomed off once more.

Shoulder ramming through a wall, Wilbert almost stumbled over and fell into the oncoming traffic in the transit artery exposed to him. But his state of hyper induced skill granted him a feline like grace and agility that would not allow him to meet such a grisly and ignoble fate, instead he nimbly cart wheeled through the air and landed ontop of a hovercar, denting the front of it and causing it to dip abruptly. Bracing his legs, hand on the dashboard, Xartoc leapt from the hovercar and landed ontop of another, and another, weaving through the surging traffic like a crimson blur. Kicking off the side of one final vehicle, Xarrtoc propelled himself like a bullet and shot straight towards his quarry. Cutting through the transit tunnel, his overclocked state began to rapidly deactivate and stabilize his core functions, and its completion was heralded by the echoing THUD that clanged from his flying kick entrance. All the while roaring out:

"JUUUUUSSSSTTTIIIIIICCCEEE!!!"

The roof of the hangar was dented severely from his kick, a crater surrounding where he had landed, and steam vomited forth from its cavern. Jumping out of the hole, lightning arced and sputtered out of his still vibratting body, a blazing eidolon of coruscating lights, and a byproduct of the severe action he had undertooken to aid the cause of law and order. Clenching his fists, Xartoc jabbed a finger towards Ash, and reading a martial stance he'd rehearsed in his second movie before barking.

"Surrender Witch, or face the Prowess of Xartoc! Unhand the lady and surrender so I don't have to make this violent."

Wilbert overclocks his Xartoc suit in order to pick up on PALADIN reports and arrive to save the day!

[Jade_Tarem]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

Ash had been expecting reinforcements, but crazy men in novelty power armor was a new one to her. If that suit was fully functional, she and Shelly were screwed. Unless...

"You're in the wrong genre, dumbass." The psychic pointed back at the sweater-clad beauty behind her. "This fine ingenue has been falsely accused and used as a scapegoat. I'm breaking her out and getting her away from the corrupt authorities so we can get to the bottom of things." It was a ludicrous line, but Ash was banking on a masked vigilante not having the highest respect for authority figures to sell it properly - well, that and her mind trick, she was using that too. As she poured on the power, she added, "Come on, hero-man, what sounds more likely? That a charming Robin Hoodette and a perfectly innocent maiden have suddenly turned to terrorism for no reason, or that this is a tragic mistake and PALADIN is too lazy or taxed to find the real thieves and murderers? You want to make the ship safer? Hold off these PALADIN goons while I get her to safety and we'll meet up later."

[Nefarion Xid]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

"My baby takes the morning train / He works from nine til five and then / He takes another home again..."

*THUD*

"... the hell was that?"

A crash on the roof of the hangar interrupted Spectre's muffled sing-along with Sheena Easton and he muted the music in his earpiece. He'd secluded himself in the station's alleyway with the get-away vehicle and had been sorting through his play-list on shuffle while waiting for the girls to hurry up and finish escaping.

"Ash?" he broadcasted telepathically, "Are bad things happening? I feel like bad things are happening. And bad things have already happened, so we're kind of drifting from bad into total cluster**** territory. You know how I feel about cluster****s."

[A Rainy Knight]

Yan safely lowered the vehicle for Theo to exit.
"I was thinking to stay above the hangar exit, so no one can leave." She replied to Theo.
However it seemed the situation was becoming comical. One vehicle exited and it crashed into an arrived vehicle. It was an absurd situation. No one was that stupid of a pilot. Even a criminal isn't so stupid. However, it happened.

"It's like the elites of our organization suddenly appeared to be incompetent like lazy Officer Corps police." Yan muttered with a sigh.
She turned to look at Theo.
"It was probably a distraction." She started to say. However, there was someone approaching now. Of course the door was open, however Theo had not left. Was he distracted?
"Theo?"

March 12,327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

Theo sheepishly scratched his head after watching the absurd car crash playing out in front of him. There was always the possibility someone was hitting the bottle a little too hard before their shift, but mayhem like this was a close companion of evildoers...

"Ah, I was merely thinking... it seems like we're a bit late to cut them off from the hangar."

He rapped his fingers against the hilt of his baton in impatient thought.

"Alright, let's say that crash was a distraction. Then whoever's making that distraction is probably still near the hangar, so there's still a chance for me to get in there and-"

Theo suddenly winced and grabbed at his ear as a loud crash rang out from the hangar along with a cry of justice - a damn fine cry of justice, if he did say so himself. As he looked back toward the hangar, his expression might have betrayed just a little bit of jealousy at having his heroic entrance pulled out from under his feet.

"That's it, I'm going in there!" He jumped out of the vehicle and started off toward the hangar at a brisk jog. "Yan, watch my back!"

[Netjester]

Kira laughed as Merlin coiled between her ankles, reaching down and bouncing him up onto her shoulder to pet him. She laughed at his reaction, suddenly brilliantly happy as she listened to Damien's reply. Then she pounced forward and hugged him as he agreed, content to temporarily ignore the vague sounds of not-quite-discontent from Merlin.

"Thanks Damien." She moved back a little and let Merlin down, winking at Damien before she clapped, triggering the same code sequence that he'd used a few minutes ago to release a small flock of birds in the cat's direction. And when she looked back at him, there was a deep affection in her eyes. "Really. This means a lot." She flicked something invisible and a dozen various panels sprang into existence around her. Selecting one with the header 'Aeternus Transport Network', she called up a particular request and adjusted a few things.

"There we go, I've changed the time and edited in the new destination for the flight." She folded the entire mess of virtual panels into nothingness with a gesture, and then gave him another - smaller - hug. "I'll have something for any VR-shock you might get on hand when you get here. It won't take long." She looked over at Merlin, who was happily chasing the birds she'd triggered into the instance. "And Damien, if you can code well enough to make him, your being an Esper isn't even going to register. Trust me. I'll see you soon."


Damien smiled tiredly as Kira lifted the cat, petting him as the cat seemed to issue forth a melody of meows. "Hrm. Never got around to fixing that subroutine, but it's so... Unique, that I can't possibly just change it to be normal. Guess I got used to-- whoa!" Damien nearly fell back as Kira leaped forward to hug him; even though Merlin's confused utterings were indicating that his VR form was being forced into collision with the other two.

"Distress! Model has mvar_clipping set to 0!" Merlin meowed before Damien stepped back, watching Kira set the cat down, before copying the same sequence he'd used to call up birds, the same reaction being elicited from Merlin. "Elation! Even MORE birds! I'm gonna catch another!" He bounded off, chasing after the dataforms as Damien swept his hands through his hair. He gave Kira slight smile, and he shook his head before replying. "Can't just sit here, and wait for the ship to erupt into chaos; now can I?"

When she mentioned VR-shock, Damien visibly winced. "Eeeeyeah, I'm probably courting one hell of a migraine, but there's at least enough stuff in the flat to stave it off long enough to make it onto the transport. I'll be bringing my storage with me; I do better in my own original virtualizations rather than having to cobble a quick one to do work in elsewhere, and Merlin isn't a fan of being stored in small datachips."

He smiled softly before looking at Merlin with her, the cat pouncing atop one of the birds with a triumphant yowl. "He was funny enough, a high school project. What you're looking at is Merlin, version 6.65. Five years of work into that little guy... And I'm still not done with him. I want to see if I can implant improved fuzzy-logic routines, make him capable of learning to a POINT. Just under what would have PALADIN kicking down the door of my flat, and completely stripped of networking, but... A proper, workable AI. Something to be able to look at and say "I did that", and not feel like I wasted my time. But listen to me ramble, eh? I'm just... A bit nervous. A bunch of Immersives in one room, and I'm the only Esper there. I'll be fine." He shook his head and smiled, despite the slightly worried green tint to his irises; the detailing in his model still cyan. "I'll see you soon, Kira."

[Rain Dragon]

327 L.E. March 12th
Early Afternoon
Treasure Hold

Right, offer declined. Time to be getting on with things then.

"Well, if you're sure..." Rikki glanced down at her wristtop, flicking the screen open. "I do have somewhere to be. Until we meet again Doctor."

And with a small farewell wave Rikki set off.

'I have a feeling that we'll be seeing him again sometime, she sent to Zyn.

Market Day was as good a reason as any to head to the Treasure Hold. But that was not the only reason Rikki had come here today. Li Chang Hao, an old friend of her father, maintained a shop-front here. He was a specialist in the area of custom portable computing devices and two weeks previous Rikki had commissioned a special piece from him. That this trip also meant exposing Zyn to some new experiences was a bonus.

His store was down on Sapphire level, in the midst of a group of similar shops. Navigating crowded walkways was easy, deterring pickpockets required barely a second thought, but thinking of how best to tell Zyn of the gift she had gotten made for him? That took some effort.

Just as she reached both Sapphire level and a conclusion, two things occurred to break her from her contemplative state; an odd message that seemed to be some sort of ship-wide broadcast about blueprints and Zyn's voice breaking into her thoughts.


'A courier bot! That would be rather useful for me! If it is only a software issue I can surely fix it.'


Was I unconsciously sending audio? Rikki wondered.

She mentally shook herself; idle speculation later, paying attention now. Looking about she soon spotted said drone Zyn mentioned. It was just laying by a wall, clearly abandoned. There was no sign of any potential owners and it seemed to be structurally sound. And more importantly, no one else seemed to have noticed it... which was probably an effect of the odd broadcast.

Eye-balling it she sent Zyn a brief image, 'I assume this is what you were after.'

Given that it still seemed no one was paying attention Rikki walked over and picked it up anyway. To be honest appropriating abandoned tech such as this drone and that HSD the thief had been using earlier barely conflicted with Rikki's personal morals. Even if Zyn didn't find some use for it or fix it, it could always be sold to someone for parts.


-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Afternoon
Treasure Hold


[Hopefully not in trouble.] Zyn notes. He doesn't quite understand Rikki's 'feelings', but they're not entirely unreliable and can usually be interesting to track. He had four categories so far; correct feelings, partially correct feelings, incorrect feelings and other. That said, this one in particular seemed far more likely to join the first category; it 'seemed like a safe bet' as the saying goes. [How soon is your canasta game?] Zyn wonders. He was almost certain that the minor distraction was not enough to cause Rikki to be late, but this was not taking into account Rikki's shopping plans which remained a mystery to Zyn.

As Rikki continues to go about her business, Zyn idly thinks on some song lyrics and vocal filters for the Hue Shift project. Soon he'd be finished his first set of artworks that he could justify selling, but to do so required a few things first. It could be that the creation of the music was the easy part...

When Rikki sent a brief image of the courier bot, Zyn felt overjoyed. [Yes!] he sent excitedly, [It looks a little expensive. I wonder what's wrong with it... I wonder if I can fix it. I... I wonder where those people went. It would be nice to be able to thank them...] Zyn stopped sending messages as he realised he was thinking aloud. He then remembered the silver knife thief, [Thank you. I hope procuring the bot was not too difficult.] Zyn sounded a little embarrassed as he hadn't thought of the possibility that others could have spotted it as well.

[Snowfire]

Damien smiled tiredly as Kira lifted the cat, petting him as the cat seemed to issue forth a melody of meows. "Hrm. Never got around to fixing that subroutine, but it's so... Unique, that I can't possibly just change it to be normal. Guess I got used to-- whoa!" Damien nearly fell back as Kira leaped forward to hug him; even though Merlin's confused utterings were indicating that his VR form was being forced into collision with the other two.

"Distress! Model has mvar_clipping set to 0!" Merlin meowed before Damien stepped back, watching Kira set the cat down, before copying the same sequence he'd used to call up birds, the same reaction being elicited from Merlin. "Elation! Even MORE birds! I'm gonna catch another!" He bounded off, chasing after the dataforms as Damien swept his hands through his hair. He gave Kira slight smile, and he shook his head before replying. "Can't just sit here, and wait for the ship to erupt into chaos; now can I?"

When she mentioned VR-shock, Damien visibly winced. "Eeeeyeah, I'm probably courting one hell of a migraine, but there's at least enough stuff in the flat to stave it off long enough to make it onto the transport. I'll be bringing my storage with me; I do better in my own original virtualizations rather than having to cobble a quick one to do work in elsewhere, and Merlin isn't a fan of being stored in small datachips."

He smiled softly before looking at Merlin with her, the cat pouncing atop one of the birds with a triumphant yowl. "He was funny enough, a high school project. What you're looking at is Merlin, version 6.65. Five years of work into that little guy... And I'm still not done with him. I want to see if I can implant improved fuzzy-logic routines, make him capable of learning to a POINT. Just under what would have PALADIN kicking down the door of my flat, and completely stripped of networking, but... A proper, workable AI. Something to be able to look at and say "I did that", and not feel like I wasted my time. But listen to me ramble, eh? I'm just... A bit nervous. A bunch of Immersives in one room, and I'm the only Esper there. I'll be fine." He shook his head and smiled, despite the slightly worried green tint to his irises; the detailing in his model still cyan. "I'll see you soon, Kira."

"Don't worry about taking your storage." Kira winked at him. "I'll just do..." the entire instance rippled and several alerts flashed up in front of Damien, before vanishing just as suddenly as the program stabilised, "that!" Kira grinned, then glared at an alert that popped up in front of her - apparently hard enough for it to disintegrate.

"I moved this over to my household mainframe. Non-intrusive, won't monitor or record, but with the secured link it should mean you won't have to take any storage with you. Also means that Merlin won't be lonely." She cocked her head, resting her chin on one hand in the manner of someone very deeply in thought. "You know, I might be able to work to get him to run through our holo. Could be a good test of the hardlight texturin- aaand that'd probably be a bit too much for Adri, all thing's considered. Just don't actually bring him to the meet, ok? It'll...end badly."

The smile on her face made it pretty clear that it wouldn't be a hugely negative badly, more of a truly ferocious distraction. Which they really did not need right now, given the situation.

"See you soon! The transport should be with you in four minutes and...27 seconds."

[Gengy]

Andrew Vega
March 12, 327 LE
Afternoon

Andrew followed Ollie as the Chief Engineer made his way to the lift hub, but Andrew was occupied with plugging in various things into his datapad. Between keeping ID-15 tucked under one arm and following the Chief, it took Andrew quite a bit of time to send a message to the EHMC Chief Engineers.

"Engineer Vega reporting. Following Chief Engineer Ahberon to investigate the message. Kindly send my tools back to my apartment. I'll be needing them."

Andrew finally followed Ollie into the lift as the door opened, and sighed. ID-15 hovered, flying over to Chief Ahberon and circling his head with the occasional beep. Andrew took a seat, and snatched his drone from the air once more.

"I had no idea you'd come here, Chief. Mind stopping by my apartment after we meet with the Coderunners? I've got some things I need to pick up there, if that's possible."

Oliver "Omega Ollie" Ahberon
Inside the Private Lift
March 12, 327 LE
Afternoon

"I gave you several minutes to get your gear together, Vega. What were you doing all that time?" Tapping away at his datapad, Ollie glared at Vega, and sighed. "Never mind, not important. You've signed the forms, right? If you have, you can use your CAS privileges to get a first-class courier to bring it to Level 3... although, with the primary public lifts slowed..."

Pulling on his mustache in though, Oliver lost a little of his glare. "Yeah, we'll have to pick it up after, I suppose. Speaking of the Coderunners, though..."

Ollie sends off another quick message to Kira, his feet tapping impatiently upon the floor of the private lift.


Coderunner Kira,

I've acquired the assistance of AI Graff, in charge of ship's gravity and lift control. I've Graff's personal HH-LC, so will arrange lift service for you, if you need. Please provide me with a time, so that Graff may evaluate your credentials and have an optimal lift location waiting you, should you desire it.

How many should we be expecting in this meeting?

-Chief Ahberon

"There, that takes care of that." Impatient, and mildly uncomfortable with the silence after working so many years with constant noise, Ollie tried his hand at casual conversation. "So. Blue. How's the... the..."

It didn't work. He fell back on regulations. "...latest certification test for you coming? Got your NGR 40-5 yet?"

[hi-mi-tsu]

Damien was in the middle of petting his cat, staring up at the true-random fractals that unwound themselves in the sky, before a series of ping packets hit his instance, with a message. Yep. Definitely Kira. A connection request sprang up, and Merlin's ears perked up, trying to bat at it. He punched accept, and laid back with Merlin on his chest, still steady petting it as Kira's VR form sprang into existence next to him. "Y'know, one of these days, I need to figure out how to Immersive-proof my closed links. I might even win a technological enterprise award... Before being hauled away." He snorted before leaning up on his forearms, the cat springing off Damien's chest to rub against Kira's VR form.

"Curious! Human!" The VR cat chirped, purring softly as it coiled between her ankles.

She began speaking, and then Damien's eyebrows raised. "Wait. Cult politics? Never paid much attention to it; but it's all really the same at the bottom of any group function. Religious cults, political parties, security details, it's group-think at the base. Mob mentality. Which means that if drek's hitting the fan with the cult, there's some kind of corruption at the top level trying to control the fallout." He groaned softly, pushing himself to his feet before dusting his lap.

"Yeah. I'll show; I suppose she'll likely have questions that I'm more suited to answer than you would. Hopefully, I'll be of some kind of use."



March 12, 327 Lost Era
Kira's House
Afternoon

Ok. Thanks.

A few hours? She'd take it. Coderunner business - probably directly related to the message, she assumed. A shame most of the Coderunners thought she was just super-crazy...a shame she wasn't smart enough to understand their system.

Adriana detoured for cookies and tea. After that conversation, she'd need something to calm her nerves, and Kira liked upper-level sweets and treats. Damien too, she hoped. She hoped for many things. She hoped that he had recovered from the morning, she hoped that he would be forthright with her, she hoped that secrets might be revealed.

She hoped she would not lose a friend.

She hoped she would not lose a family.

Her mother had been sending ever-more-insistent messages, trying to call her, but Adriana ignored them. What use had she for Nariana right now? Her own mother hadn't stood up for her to the Novitate. They had differences of opinion in theology, of course, but...to try to shut her down, to try to still her voice? Nariana had to have known, somewhere deep inside, that Adriana was at least a little bit right. If you truly believed the Navigator knew and controlled everything that happened on the ship, had a higher purpose, had a deeper intention, then how could you not believe the message was sanctioned? How could your mind immediately leap to silencing it, to subduing it, to sending things back to how they always were? Was not their goal to pursue the Navigator's will?!?

Adriana was so lost in thought that she nearly walked right past Kira's home; she paused, abruptly, and turned to go to the door. She almost walked straight in, but...she'd never really been here before. A few short, awkward minutes when she'd come to pick Kira up for something, with her parents watching...that was all.

Jostling the bag of cookies and carrying-container of drinks into one hand, she lifted the other and knocked, firmly.

Who's afraid of the big bad wolf...? The thought popped into her head, spontaneously, and she couldn't help but giggle - a little hysterically. Everyone. Everyone was afraid of the big bad wolf.

Maybe she needed to be the big bad wolf.

[Netjester]

"Don't worry about taking your storage." Kira winked at him. "I'll just do..." the entire instance rippled and several alerts flashed up in front of Damien, before vanishing just as suddenly as the program stabilised, "that!" Kira grinned, then glared at an alert that popped up in front of her - apparently hard enough for it to disintegrate.

"I moved this over to my household mainframe. Non-intrusive, won't monitor or record, but with the secured link it should mean you won't have to take any storage with you. Also means that Merlin won't be lonely." She cocked her head, resting her chin on one hand in the manner of someone very deeply in thought. "You know, I might be able to work to get him to run through our holo. Could be a good test of the hardlight texturin- aaand that'd probably be a bit too much for Adri, all thing's considered. Just don't actually bring him to the meet, ok? It'll...end badly."

The smile on her face made it pretty clear that it wouldn't be a hugely negative badly, more of a truly ferocious distraction. Which they really did not need right now, given the situation.

"See you soon! The transport should be with you in four minutes and...27 seconds."

"Don't worry about-- whoa, whoa, whoa!" For a second, Damien thought his network was being wracked with a computer virus before the alerts all vanished; and Damien looked up at Kira as he had a network mapper up, staring at what he'd assumed was for all intents and purposes, impossible. "...Kira, how did you just synchronize a network link between the 96th deck and the fraggin' 8th deck?" The look of confusion on the Dreamweaver's face was unmistakable, even with the lights ebbing and rolling through his form.

"I'd certainly hope it doesn't record, because some of the instances on my network are... Works in progess. Wouldn't do for the Debrowski arsehats to come sniffing because someone's network sniffer got snapshots of my work. I'm still pretty underground, after all... Merlin might not be too happy about being left behind, but I'll make it up to him. Hell, hopefully, I can get a decent reluminum shell for him after all this. He likes real-world, apparently."

She gave him the time that the transport needed, and Damien nodded. "See you on the other side, Kira." He gritted his teeth, mentally bracing himself for pain as he sent a force-close command, jolting awake with a searing pain in the front of his brain, before staggering to a medicine cabinet across the room. Lights were spinning in front of the abstractionist's eyes, and as he popped several aspirin, swallowing them dry, his vision slowly normalized, and he realized-- he had a trio of meditation balls circling around his head.

He blinked in confusion, before holding his palm face up-- they followed, hovering three inches over his hand. Roughly 2 inches in diameter, gleaming chrome and jingling cheerfully, they simultaneously calmed him down and gave his newest ability something to focus on as the stabbing sensation in his head quelled, fading to a dull pounding. He could hear the transport, and a thought occurred to him as he made his way to it out of his flat.

I like the sound of the broken pieces...

[BlueHerring]

Andrew Vega
Private Lift
March 12, 327 LE
Afternoon

Hey, don't blame me for not hauling my tool belt around on my off day. Besides, it'll just be a short trip, thought Andrew, looking away from the Chief for a moment.

When Ollie was sending a message to the Coderunners, Andrew was filling out his own CAS form, and submitted it back to this... Coderunner Tsumantso. Presumably it was the same person in charge of the meeting.

Andrew looked back up when Ollie asked about his certification. "Oh, yeah. I did the 40-5 about a week before the slip-space jump started. Cleared it pretty easily, actually. Most of these tests usually have one big problem that they try to stump you on, but they're not all that difficult," Andrew said, drumming his right hand's fingers on ID-15's shell.

"[b]Say, did they have the cryogenics question when you got certified, or is that a new thing?"

[Gengy]

Andrew Vega
Private Lift
March 12, 327 LE
Afternoon

Hey, don't blame me for not hauling my tool belt around on my off day. Besides, it'll just be a short trip, thought Andrew, looking away from the Chief for a moment.

When Ollie was sending a message to the Coderunners, Andrew was filling out his own CAS form, and submitted it back to this... Coderunner Tsumantso. Presumably it was the same person in charge of the meeting.

Andrew looked back up when Ollie asked about his certification. "Oh, yeah. I did the 40-5 about a week before the slip-space jump started. Cleared it pretty easily, actually. Most of these tests usually have one big problem that they try to stump you on, but they're not all that difficult," Andrew said, drumming his right hand's fingers on ID-15's shell.

"Say, did they have the cryogenics question when you got certified, or is that a new thing?"

Ollie Ahberon
Private Lift
March 12, 327 LE
Afternoon

"Cryogenics on NGR 40-5? No, that's new. I covered that in my SNGR 12-A. I guess it makes sense, though. The more people that know about it, the better. We've got so many cryo-systems that need more and more fine-tuning, getting the more of you certified the better." Ollie sat in brief silence for a moment, just thinking. Cryo-systems did many different things, but where many engineers were concerned is that the cryogenics systems helped to keep hot things cold. Machinery, mostly. Fine tuning those systems, and getting the proper coolant on them was becoming more pressing. Ollie made a mental note to find out if the stocks of coolant were up to date, or if that was something Mum should be talked to about.

Seemingly out of the blue, even from his own thoughts, Ollie suddenly wondered aloud, "Ever thought of building your own bot, Blue? I don't mean tweaking a case or putting together something with instructions... I mean from complete buckin' scrap to shiny brand new AI-infused bot."

[BlueHerring]

Andrew Vega
Private Lift
March 12, 327 LE
Afternoon

"Not for a while, but I plan on doing that eventually. ID-15 is basically a prototype for that, to be honest. I didn't deviate much from the original design from the kit, in terms of aerodynamics and layout, but the hardware and software are all custom."

Andrew tapped ID-15 a few times, and it responded with a low whistle.

"But honestly, it isn't practical. I'm better off upgrading ID-15 further, or building several similar robots than designing and build a brand new one from scratch. I'll probably wait for a few more years, and maybe I'll do something once I've settled down."

[WaylanderX]

Andy
Somewhere in Lowhab...
March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon

Putting down his tweezers, Andy checked his notes one final time, making sure all collected data was satisfactory. The pad displayed a wide array of data, ranging from species size and weight to saliva and hemolymph composition. All in all, a successfull morning. He even discoved one species of insect, a beautifully fiercly colored beetle, that wasn't in his database yet. Preliminary analysis revealed a strong poison inside the critter, delivered through spine-like structures in it's wingshields. Most fascinating.

Lazily, he leaned back, reaching into his backpack. He took out a large pile of sandwiches, which were topped with a product the humans here called "ham". Most rich in protien and salts, it was just the thing a Razaph needed to keep his body and swarm in good shape. He already had lunch earlier on the day, but when possible, eating more nutricious foods was more beneficial then eating as much humans did.

He buzzed merily, eating his sandwich. This sort of things always put him in a good mood. Life was good.

[Gengy]

"Not for a while, but I plan on doing that eventually. ID-15 is basically a prototype for that, to be honest. I didn't deviate much from the original design from the kit, in terms of aerodynamics and layout, but the hardware and software are all custom."

Andrew tapped ID-15 a few times, and it responded with a low whistle.

"But honestly, it isn't practical. I'm better off upgrading ID-15 further, or building several similar robots than designing and build a brand new one from scratch. I'll probably wait for a few more years, and maybe I'll do something once I've settled down."

Oliver "Omega Ollie" Ahberon
Private Lift
March 12, 327 LE
Afternoon

"That's smart." What Ollie didn't say was that he already had been waiting for a few years, and been slowly gathering parts himself. He didn't know when the bot would be ready - it was just something he was tinkering with in his spare time, and Ollie wasn't great with AI programming (from scratch) yet - but it was something to do.

He didn't initiate further conversation on the ride up, but Oliver spent some time thinking about what he'd do when he got home tonight. If he got home tonight.

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

Deck 115, Janitorial Closet
Minor Dark Sector
March 12, 327
Afternoon

Elsewhere, within the 'sphere, a non-essential AI unit - previously used as the AI that directed all janitorial robots before the Navigator decided the AI was not needed at this junction - was 'awoken' for the first time in decades. A figure stood before it's console, though it only knew this from the input it was receiving. The nameless janitorial AI had not expected to be roused, so it's external cameras were slow to boot up. The started from the floor, and saw little, as the room was still dark. It tried to send a query out along the datasphere to determine the nature of what was occurring, but...

It did not have time to make it more than to send the equivalent of a 'hello, is anyone there?' before the figure did... something. The janitorial AI unit did not know what. All it knew was that all of it's software was suddenly... not it's software. AIs, being hardware, can be killed only when their hardware is destroyed. Even then, some AI have backup systems they can migrate to. Not so, this particular AI. Even had it a backup hardware, though, all the hardware was left intact. It's 'body' was fine.

All of the AI's software - it's brain - was suddenly gone. Ripped away and discarded, like the pieces of trash that it once had directed bots to clean.

Had this been a human, and not an AI, leaving someone without a brain to function would cause death. As it was an AI... it was still death. The question was... was it murder?


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

30 Minutes Later
Afternoon
Multiple Ship Areas

With so many people and robots on the Aeternus, there was trash everywhere. Thankfully, the Fabricators maintained cleanliness. They were independent robots, and they needed the waste-disposal to craft nutrients. It wasn't... tasty. But it was edible. And free. If you wanted taste, you had to either get lucky and find a Fabricator that had the Omega symbol on it's front - indicating that Oliver Ahberon had worked on it - or pay for food.

A Fabricator bot looked much like the mythical old-earth arcade box. It had a simple boxy frame, with a screen for selection, and a few input keys. Below the screen, the Fabricator had a minor maker function that transformed the waste it picked up with it's small metallic grabbers that resembled so many spidery legs into sustenance. No one would call what a Fabricator makes food. Unless the infamous Omega Ollie had worked on one - tolerated for many things, Oliver Ahberon was renowned and somewhat liked for desiring machines that made edible things that didn't taste like sawdust - a Fabricator was often viewed as a last ditch effort to eat something other then the trash on the ground... which some people considered anyways.

Still, Fabricators were all over the place. They had to be, to keep the ship clean. So it was with some surprise when their screens suddenly flashed blue, and a message appeared on them completely unrelated to creation of a cheap meal.

'The ship cannot hide itself from itself. FIND THE BLUEPRINTS. They are not trash, tricks, or lies. They cannot hide. No Fabricator Meals until the BLUEPRINTS are found.'
- NEVER FORGET

Something has happened to the Fabricators! The mysterious 'Never Forget' has somehow managed to get their clutches on whatever mainframe maintains the supposedly independent robots and display yet another message regarding supposed Blueprints of the ship.

Will the investigators find out any information? Did the poor nameless janitorial AI manage any kind of message? Did it see anything?

Oh, dear reader, you will have to just read on... unless you are a player, then you must write on!

[Tychris1]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

Xartoc stared at Ash for a good long second, his fists still clenched as he maintained his combat stance. He had heard of her on the TV, mind controlling people like some psychic puppet master, and for all he knew this could very well be an attempt by her to hook her claws into him and grab his mind. On the other hand, he knew first hand just how easy it was to lie on TV, how corrupt some of the media officials can get, and he didn't really have any "Evidence" that she was committing a crime without knowing more about that tall and doe-eyed looking lady. Unclenching his right fist, his feet slid to become parallel with each other as he straightened himself and began to walk toward Ash.

"Alright Lady, I'm not saying I believe you, but if I did then I'd have to say the two of you are in a precarious spot in need of some heroics, and that my name is Xartoc "Lord of Prowess". Professional Hero."

With that he struck a pose, putting both of his fists on his hips as he stuck his chest out, and finished it off by sticking his hand out to shake Ash's.

"Innocent until proven guilty I always say, so lets get you out of here and get to the bottom of this."

[zabbarot]

Andy
Somewhere in Lowhab...
March 12, 327 LE
Late-Afternoon

Putting down his tweezers, Andy checked his notes one final time, making sure all collected data was satisfactory. The pad displayed a wide array of data, ranging from species size and weight to saliva and hemolymph composition. All in all, a successfull morning. He even discoved one species of insect, a beautifully fiercly colored beetle, that wasn't in his database yet. Preliminary analysis revealed a strong poison inside the critter, delivered through spine-like structures in it's wingshields. Most fascinating.

Lazily, he leaned back, reaching into his backpack. He took out a large pile of sandwiches, which were topped with a product the humans here called "ham". Most rich in protien and salts, it was just the thing a Razaph needed to keep his body and swarm in good shape. He already had lunch earlier on the day, but when possible, eating more nutricious foods was more beneficial then eating as much humans did.

He buzzed merrily, eating his sandwich. This sort of things always put him in a good mood. Life was good.

FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
Low Habitability Zones/Lower Habitats
Late-Afternoon/Early-Evening

FS16K4 was not having any luck questioning the humans of LowHab. Most of them seemed busy or disinterested. Many even made strange facial expressions that suggested something distressing had happened, but FS16K4 was never able to find out what.

He was all but giving up hope when he ran into a... /* Non-human entity detected. What is that? */ Just like that his quest for the map was relegated to subroutines. Figuring out what this creature was became top priority. FS16K4 kept his distance and hid partially around a corner to observe the creature. /* It isn't human. Maybe it is a robot? */ A single microbot chewed its way out of his hand and moved up the wall to get a better look as the synthskin sealed behind it.

/* What is it doing... There's something pink (￣■￣;)!? in it's mouth (probably a mouth? definitely an orifice) */ The microbot moved closer to get a good look at what it was doing. /* Wait... is that... meat? ヽ(￣￣￣￣￣￣ロ￣￣￣￣￣￣；）ノ - - - Oh Navigator no! It's consuming some poor creature ヽ(;´Д`ヽ)(ノ;´Д`)ノ What do I do? What do I do? *Load Combat Subroutines* *Error:No such data* *Solution:Load Stealth Subroutines* ლ(ಠ_ಠლ) */ FS16K4 stood silent, unable to do anything but watch on in horror.

[Jade_Tarem]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

"I agree completely with most of what you just said, Mr. Hero Man." Ash shook his massive armored hand and turned to look at the cruiser the Navi was piloting. It hovered menacingly between her and Specter's proffered hovercycle like a giant goalie. Then she got Specter's 'send.'

It's a veritable cluster-orgy, she sent back. Problems have arrived from all over the ship and are breeding like incestuous rabbits. I've convinced one of them to help us as a means of thinning the herd.

The psychic briefly debated how to deploy her new asset. While the effects of her convincing him that she was the good guy in all of this wouldn't fade the way emotions did, there was nothing to stop PALADIN - or even just new information - from convincing him otherwise. She needed to either get him away from the police, or else in deep enough trouble that further dialogue would be impossible. "If Shelly and I can get past that cruiser, I think we'll be on our way out. Do you think you can disable it?"

[WaylanderX]

FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
Low Habitability Zones/Lower Habitats
Late-Afternoon/Early-Evening

FS16K4 was not having any luck questioning the humans of LowHab. Most of them seemed busy or disinterested. Many even made strange facial expressions that suggested something distressing had happened, but FS16K4 was never able to find out what.

He was all but giving up hope when he ran into a... /* Non-human entity detected. What is that? */ Just like that his quest for the map was relegated to subroutines. Figuring out what this creature was became top priority. FS16K4 kept his distance and hid partially around a corner to observe the creature. /* It isn't human. Maybe it is a robot? */ A single microbot chewed its way out of his hand and moved up the wall to get a better look as the synthskin sealed behind it.

/* What is it doing... There's something pink (￣■￣;)!? in it's mouth (probably a mouth? definitely an orifice) */ The microbot moved closer to get a good look at what it was doing. /* Wait... is that... meat? ヽ(￣￣￣￣￣￣ロ￣￣￣￣￣￣；）ノ - - - Oh Navigator no! It's consuming some poor creature ヽ(;´Д`ヽ)(ノ;´Д`)ノ What do I do? What do I do? *Load Combat Subroutines* *Error:No such data* *Solution:Load Stealth Subroutines* ლ(ಠ_ಠლ) */ FS16K4 stood silent, unable to do anything but watch on in horror.

Andy
Somewhere in Lowhab...
March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon

Munching on his sandwich, Andy noticed a humanoid figure standing around 20 meters away from him, appearing to stare at him. It was no matter, he got stared at alot anyway. He was also too far away to see his face properly, but Andy waved at him in a greeting while continuing to munch on his snack.

Suddenly, he felt a disturbance in his Swarm. One of his beetles found something weird. Something that caused it to display territorial behaviour. Intesting...

Leaning back, Andy focused his mind on the beetle, and took over its senses. The beetle was staring at the back of a strange small creature, with a metaline shell covering it.
A new species of insect? That would make a pretty good article, combined with the data he already found. Andy focused his mind on the strange creature and tried to take over it's sight and establish a connection.....but he didn't feel anything. No brain, no nerves, nothing.

Shocked, Andy took a closer look at the creature. Maybe it was a mechanical lifeform. Those the humans called "robots". Andy knew that much of the ship relied upon their workings and he even knew the basics of how they worked (about as much as the average ship-living human). However, he didn't have much interest in them, as they were mostly immobile and frankly quite boring.

This one however... He had to take a closer look at. Clicking with curiousity, Andy commanded the beetle to poke the thing with a horn, trying to provoke a reaction.

[Snowfire]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Kira's House
Afternoon


Ok. Thanks.

A few hours? She'd take it. Coderunner business - probably directly related to the message, she assumed. A shame most of the Coderunners thought she was just super-crazy...a shame she wasn't smart enough to understand their system.

Adriana detoured for cookies and tea. After that conversation, she'd need something to calm her nerves, and Kira liked upper-level sweets and treats. Damien too, she hoped. She hoped for many things. She hoped that he had recovered from the morning, she hoped that he would be forthright with her, she hoped that secrets might be revealed.

She hoped she would not lose a friend.

She hoped she would not lose a family.

Her mother had been sending ever-more-insistent messages, trying to call her, but Adriana ignored them. What use had she for Nariana right now? Her own mother hadn't stood up for her to the Novitate. They had differences of opinion in theology, of course, but...to try to shut her down, to try to still her voice? Nariana had to have known, somewhere deep inside, that Adriana was at least a little bit right. If you truly believed the Navigator knew and controlled everything that happened on the ship, had a higher purpose, had a deeper intention, then how could you not believe the message was sanctioned? How could your mind immediately leap to silencing it, to subduing it, to sending things back to how they always were? Was not their goal to pursue the Navigator's will?!?

Adriana was so lost in thought that she nearly walked right past Kira's home; she paused, abruptly, and turned to go to the door. She almost walked straight in, but...she'd never really been here before. A few short, awkward minutes when she'd come to pick Kira up for something, with her parents watching...that was all.

Jostling the bag of cookies and carrying-container of drinks into one hand, she lifted the other and knocked, firmly.

Who's afraid of the big bad wolf...? The thought popped into her head, spontaneously, and she couldn't help but giggle - a little hysterically. Everyone. Everyone was afraid of the big bad wolf.

Maybe she needed to be the big bad wolf.

After making sure that the link from Damien's system to her mainframe was secure and running smoothly, Kira turned quickly to that most dreary - when one is young - task of ensuring that everything was at its best for the arrival of her friends. It was a skill that her parents had refused very pointedly to let her neglect, and that for all that she'd disliked it she had been an apt and able student. Of course, applying that skill to her room was something not often done, but she was pretty sure that this conversation wouldn't be extending itself to the bedroom, so it shouldn't matter. With one part of her attention fixed on Adri's location, she had a firm time scale, and a smile spread across her face as she realised that her friend was bringing food. She'd have cups and plates ready then. Mom had the guest stuff in...that cupboard. Set that out on the table in the sitting room - it was a low one, with comfy chairs, a sofa and one extremely large cushion set around it. A good place for a...darn, stupid brain. A heart-to-heart, that was it!

She chuckled, gently brushing imaginary fragments of dirt off of the plates and cake-stand, before turning to the most important part of the entire assembly. A delicate vase filled with flowers from the ship's garden. It had been a present for her mother, something to celebrate her promotion two weeks ago, and they were still (somehow) as glorious as ever. It was unfortunate, then, that as she set the vase down her inbox pinged with another message from Ollie. She jumped slightly - she'd not been monitoring for incoming, too focused on prep and making sure she knew where Adri was - and then managed to catch the vase before it toppled over. Setting it back upright, she skimmed the message.

The HH-LC could be of use, but it was more likely for them to utilise airborne transport, which they had all but complete access to for the duration of the CAS. That said, having one of the Essential AIs on tap was unlikely to be a bad thing. Beyond that...numbers. Darn. That was more complex. Lea would bring herself of course...but who else. A quick ping into the Substrate returned varied results, so she chalked up a basic four others. So six Immersives including herself then - hopefully they'd have something to work with by then. Damien, Ollie, his volunteer...nine then. She started to put together a reply, then stopped. She was missing something...what was she missi-oh. Of course. That final technicality. A Ship Council Liaison.

It had been over fifty years since the last time one of those was assigned, and not because there hadn't been CAS responses in that time. It was more that in most cases, the Ship Council was able to leave the response teams alone. But where it came to more exacting and dangerous threats, where the level of situation was far higher, then one was needed. It was almost beyond the memory of several of the currently serving Council Members though, so what to do. They certainly wouldn't want to give up their time, or aides, to the cause. But they also had to. If the CAS response needed something from the Council in a situation like this, they needed a known face with internal status to communicate. And whilst Lea was known, she wasn't an aide or active member of the Council. In line for promotion into the Coderunner rotation, yes, but she not there yet. And even if she had been, she was their greatest asset at this point. Bogging her down with liaison would be just stupid. So that left Kira at an impasse. Did she...wait a sec. Adri had worked on the Council before. But would she be ok working with them? Things...couldn't be all that stable with the Cult after that message.

She'd just have to see. If she seemed well enough in herself at the end of the conversation...she might ask. Otherwise she'd need a list of people to call for standby. Not hard, the Coderunners had a database set up for situations like this. No, no, yes, no, yes, yes, yes. Ok, that would do. Four possibles, at least one of them would be good for it. CAS liaison apparently looked surprisingly good on a record, assuming you didn't screw it up.

Alright, she had the relevant information. Ten people, maybe a few more.

Chief Ahberon,

Although I appreciate your acquisition of a HH-LC, you need not have taken such a lengthy route, aerial transport is easily available to all involved in this response team. For reference, we have been handed this as a blanket authority situation. If you need transport, you may either utilise your own authority - now entered in system - or contact myself and I will arrange it to suit your needs.

For the meeting at 18:00, we will be expecting ten with yourself and your volunteer included, possibly as many as fifteen depending on how the situation changes.

Coderunner Tsumantso

With the message sent, she turned quickly back to the room in front of her as she picked up the unmistakable 'feel' of her friend's implants turning onto the street. A few final touches...then to the door, quick. And then suddenly the worry and nervousness descended, made all the worse when Adri almost walked straight past the door. She'd never done that before, not once. Kira hoped she was ok.

Then the knock came, Kira smoothed her blouse again, and opened the door with her best attempt at a welcoming smile.

"Adri," she moved forward, plucking the drinks container from her hand and then pulling her into a one-armed hug. It had just become...natural to do that. Greeting her friend with a hug felt right. "Come on in, just us here for now. Damien will be here as soon as his transport arrives. He should be just getting aboard now."

She led her friend into the sitting room, laying out the drinks carefully on the table, by cups if people wanted to move them, then busied herself with removing the sweet treats from their bag and placing them on the cakestand. And totally not using the opportunity to find the tastiest looking one. She left the choice of topic to her friend, absently hoping that it was the right thing to do.

[hi-mi-tsu]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
Kira's House
Afternoon



After making sure that the link from Damien's system to her mainframe was secure and running smoothly, Kira turned quickly to that most dreary - when one is young - task of ensuring that everything was at its best for the arrival of her friends. It was a skill that her parents had refused very pointedly to let her neglect, and that for all that she'd disliked it she had been an apt and able student. Of course, applying that skill to her room was something not often done, but she was pretty sure that this conversation wouldn't be extending itself to the bedroom, so it shouldn't matter. With one part of her attention fixed on Adri's location, she had a firm time scale, and a smile spread across her face as she realised that her friend was bringing food. She'd have cups and plates ready then. Mom had the guest stuff in...that cupboard. Set that out on the table in the sitting room - it was a low one, with comfy chairs, a sofa and one extremely large cushion set around it. A good place for a...darn, stupid brain. A heart-to-heart, that was it!

She chuckled, gently brushing imaginary fragments of dirt off of the plates and cake-stand, before turning to the most important part of the entire assembly. A delicate vase filled with flowers from the ship's garden. It had been a present for her mother, something to celebrate her promotion two weeks ago, and they were still (somehow) as glorious as ever. It was unfortunate, then, that as she set the vase down her inbox pinged with another message from Ollie. She jumped slightly - she'd not been monitoring for incoming, too focused on prep and making sure she knew where Adri was - and then managed to catch the vase before it toppled over. Setting it back upright, she skimmed the message.

The HH-LC could be of use, but it was more likely for them to utilise airborne transport, which they had all but complete access to for the duration of the CAS. That said, having one of the Essential AIs on tap was unlikely to be a bad thing. Beyond that...numbers. Darn. That was more complex. Lea would bring herself of course...but who else. A quick ping into the Substrate returned varied results, so she chalked up a basic four others. So six Immersives including herself then - hopefully they'd have something to work with by then. Damien, Ollie, his volunteer...nine then. She started to put together a reply, then stopped. She was missing something...what was she missi-oh. Of course. That final technicality. A Ship Council Liaison.

It had been over fifty years since the last time one of those was assigned, and not because there hadn't been CAS responses in that time. It was more that in most cases, the Ship Council was able to leave the response teams alone. But where it came to more exacting and dangerous threats, where the level of situation was far higher, then one was needed. It was almost beyond the memory of several of the currently serving Council Members though, so what to do. They certainly wouldn't want to give up their time, or aides, to the cause. But they also had to. If the CAS response needed something from the Council in a situation like this, they needed a known face with internal status to communicate. And whilst Lea was known, she wasn't an aide or active member of the Council. In line for promotion into the Coderunner rotation, yes, but she not there yet. And even if she had been, she was their greatest asset at this point. Bogging her down with liaison would be just stupid. So that left Kira at an impasse. Did she...wait a sec. Adri had worked on the Council before. But would she be ok working with them? Things...couldn't be all that stable with the Cult after that message.

She'd just have to see. If she seemed well enough in herself at the end of the conversation...she might ask. Otherwise she'd need a list of people to call for standby. Not hard, the Coderunners had a database set up for situations like this. No, no, yes, no, yes, yes, yes. Ok, that would do. Four possibles, at least one of them would be good for it. CAS liaison apparently looked surprisingly good on a record, assuming you didn't screw it up.

Alright, she had the relevant information. Ten people, maybe a few more.

Chief Ahberon,

Although I appreciate your acquisition of a HH-LC, you need not have taken such a lengthy route, aerial transport is easily available to all involved in this response team. For reference, we have been handed this as a blanket authority situation. If you need transport, you may either utilise your own authority - now entered in system - or contact myself and I will arrange it to suit your needs.

For the meeting at 18:00, we will be expecting ten with yourself and your volunteer included, possibly as many as fifteen depending on how the situation changes.

Coderunner Tsumantso

With the message sent, she turned quickly back to the room in front of her as she picked up the unmistakable 'feel' of her friend's implants turning onto the street. A few final touches...then to the door, quick. And then suddenly the worry and nervousness descended, made all the worse when Adri almost walked straight past the door. She'd never done that before, not once. Kira hoped she was ok.

Then the knock came, Kira smoothed her blouse again, and opened the door with her best attempt at a welcoming smile.

"Adri," she moved forward, plucking the drinks container from her hand and then pulling her into a one-armed hug. It had just become...natural to do that. Greeting her friend with a hug felt right. "Come on in, just us here for now. Damien will be here as soon as his transport arrives. He should be just getting aboard now."

She led her friend into the sitting room, laying out the drinks carefully on the table, by cups if people wanted to move them, then busied herself with removing the sweet treats from their bag and placing them on the cakestand. And totally not using the opportunity to find the tastiest looking one. She left the choice of topic to her friend, absently hoping that it was the right thing to do.


March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon
Kira's House

It was a sign of how distracted and upset Adriana was that she didn't enthusiastically return the hug Kira gave her - normally, she'd throw herself into it, perhaps even give the Immersive a kiss on the cheek just to be amused at her blush. It had taken so long for Kira to be okay with any kind of touch at all outside of an incredibly formal handshake, after all...but Adriana was not in the mood for jubilance, today. She relinquished the cookies and tea, though as soon as they were in the sitting room she began preparing a cup for herself, with hands that were only shaking a very little. Hardly noticeable.

"The Novitate threatened to demote me to Initiate." Adriana settled down on the couch, looking into her teacup. "Because I had the gall to suggest that this message was not something to be hated or feared but rather something to be celebrated. And because I had the further gall to express my upset when he intended to blame 'rogue Immersives' in his public-message blast."

She paused, sipped her tea. "Is there any way you can block the connection between my mother and I? Mark my number unreachable or something? She's been constantly trying to call and message me, but after she sided with the Novitate over me, I have no desire to speak with her currently. And it's very annoying. Since she's set as my emergency contact, I cannot fully block her myself."

Another pause, and Adriana's eyes lifted to her friend.

"I believe it is time that those of us who follow the Navigator and have not become blinded by fear or corruption or the premise of power break apart from those that are such. I believe it is time for a new Novitate, especially in light of these most recent messages. The Navigator - or a mouthpiece she has chosen - is trying to communicate. Suppressing that goes against everything I have ever believed in, and yet it is the rallying cry of the head of my Order. I am not overly smart, but even I can see...the lines are shaking. Something is bound to crack."

[Kitsanth]

-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Afternoon
Treasure Hold


[Hopefully not in trouble.] Zyn notes. He doesn't quite understand Rikki's 'feelings', but they're not entirely unreliable and can usually be interesting to track. He had four categories so far; correct feelings, partially correct feelings, incorrect feelings and other. That said, this one in particular seemed far more likely to join the first category; it 'seemed like a safe bet' as the saying goes. [How soon is your canasta game?] Zyn wonders. He was almost certain that the minor distraction was not enough to cause Rikki to be late, but this was not taking into account Rikki's shopping plans which remained a mystery to Zyn.

As Rikki continues to go about her business, Zyn idly thinks on some song lyrics and vocal filters for the Hue Shift project. Soon he'd be finished his first set of artworks that he could justify selling, but to do so required a few things first. It could be that the creation of the music was the easy part...

When Rikki sent a brief image of the courier bot, Zyn felt overjoyed. [Yes!] he sent excitedly, [It looks a little expensive. I wonder what's wrong with it... I wonder if I can fix it. I... I wonder where those people went. It would be nice to be able to thank them...] Zyn stopped sending messages as he realised he was thinking aloud. He then remembered the silver knife thief, [Thank you. I hope procuring the bot was not too difficult.] Zyn sounded a little embarrassed as he hadn't thought of the possibility that others could have spotted it as well.

327 L.E. March 12th
Afternoon
Treasure Hold

'Whoever those people were, they're long gone now,' Rikki sent to Zyn.

Rikki slipped the drone into her coat and resumed walking. Li Chang Hao's shop wasn't far away. The gift Rikki had commissioned for Zyn was not far away.

'Zyn,' she began hesitantly. 'I'm not a philosopher but living your existence must be hard. It must be like living in a small dark room you can never leave, knowing that the world is outside and only being able to interact with that world when it chooses to remember where the door is.'

And they had finally arrived at their destination. It was a small shop that seemed to be sandwiched between the much larger businesses on either side. But it stood out regardless. Rikki's father had once told her that the design had been inspired by an old vid file and the imitation wood veneer, large window for the purpose of displaying wares (in actuality a holo-display) and authentic old-fashioned bell over the door, did certainly lend credence to that fact. Hao's Custom Hardware, the sign read.

'And I would hate that.' Rikki pushed the door open, bell tinkling as she walked in. 'So, I had an old friend of my father's put something together. A means for you to have access to an independent audiovisual source. As a bonus it's also a rather stylish accessory.

"Rikki! It is so good to see you," the proprietor exclaimed, bustling out from behind the counter. "I have that order you requested. I just finished in fact, come and take a look."

Latching onto Rikki's hand he began to draw her into the shop's depths. Long used to his exuberant ways, Rikki let herself be led into the back room.

"Mr. Hao-"

"Please, call me Li," he smiled, "why is it that I must keep reminding you of this?"

"Because my father taught me to be respectful towards old fools like yourself."

[Morph Bark]

327 Lost Era, March 12th, Morning
LowHab, The Perpetual Neighbour


327 Lost Era, March 12th, Morning
LowHab, The Perpetual Neighbour

Wilbert mumbled to himself, idly scratching at his head as he continued to enjoy his drink. It'd been a long time since the last time he'd work, longer till since he held a job. Going back into the work force, even on such a small errand, for someone like her it.... Well it scared him. He let the question sit for half an hour, watching as the officials left the watering hole, and once everything had been said and done he piped up.

"Well.... Well sure why not. What uh.... Um do you have in mind anyway?"

Shimona had moved on to tinkering with the settings on the coffee machine since she'd asked "Joe" about working for her. She looked up with a "hm" and when she realized he'd been speaking to her in reply, she smiled. "I'm looking to increase the entertainment value of my establishment. The holographic inter-communication with other Neighbour's Houses works fine enough, even though the Perp is much smaller, but we could use a bit more pizzazz here, 'know what I mean?" She let it linger for a bit as if it wasn't entirely rhetorical. "So, what I need you for is to pick up a dart board on the upper levels." She handed him a colourful piece of paper with details on the location and company, with a post-it attached to it giving the specifics of the order.


Perpetual Neighbour owner Shimona Sayre-Aran is in need of a dart board for her establishment! She has ordered an Ultimate Laser Darts board from Gameroom Improvement Inc and requires someone to pick it up for her, as her schedule doesn't leave a lot of time for her to do so.

Gameroom Improvement Inc. is located on Deck 33. Ultimate Laser Darts comes in a multi-compartment box to keep the darts separate from the board to prevent premature explosions.

[Netjester]

March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon
Enroute to Kira's House

The transport gave off a low hum as it took off, Damien's head still throbbing errantly every few seconds in time with his heartbeat. Sometimes, he really wished that he was one of those types with full dominion over their bodily functions; he could use a dopamine flush right now. He leaned forward, a pair of sunglasses on to keep from weirding out the pilot of the craft(it seemed some people just couldn't get around someone with a pair of cybernetic eyes anymore), the steel balls he'd taken from his flat still circling over his hand.

"Oi, uh, buddy, you got a little--" The pilot started, only to be cut off by Damien's bass. "I know. Why don't you focus on the flight; because I just do not have the faculties necessary to deal cordially with someone who isn't ok with Espers."

"No, no, no, ain't that, mate." The pilot started, a slight smirk twitching his lips. "See, so am I. Really small thing, though; being a precog has its benefits, but I'm certain someone up my chain would be after my head if it got around. Just never seen anyone do THAT before-- I mean, most psychokines are just lazy. But it's like you're actively trying to strengthen it. Kind of intriguing, is all."

"Well," Damien spoke up after thinking for a moment, "I had always wanted to be a Coderunner. Follow in my dad's footsteps. Decorated officer, lived every day of his life loving what he did; but I manifested Empathy early. You know what that means. Every day until Dad's death, I felt like somehow, on a genetic level, I failed him. But rather than curse what I was given by-- fate, god, what have you-- It's part of me. On a cellular level. And I don't intend on being anything less than the best at what I do. Even if it ruined my connection with the last family I had, this is part of me. Not using it to its full potential would be an insult."

The transport pulled up to their target deck, and the pilot brought the transport craft to a slow halt, turning in his chair before offering his hand. "There's so few of us that think that way, it was a real pleasure talkin' to ya. Name's Morrow, you take it easy, yeah? I'm certain we'll end up meeting again."

Damien smiled tiredly before taking Morrow's hand, giving a firm shake. "Damien. If you frequent the Enclave on Deck 92, you'll likely see me again at some point. Stay safe, I've been checking the newsnet, and there's some drek going on around PALADIN HQ. I'd avoid it for pathfinding. Adios, amigo." Damien stepped from the craft, the trio of steel balls relocating to over his right shoulder, still in their steady orbit as Damien walked to Kira's door; swiping a quick AR message to her.

Right outside.

[Snowfire]

March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon
Kira's House


It was a sign of how distracted and upset Adriana was that she didn't enthusiastically return the hug Kira gave her - normally, she'd throw herself into it, perhaps even give the Immersive a kiss on the cheek just to be amused at her blush. It had taken so long for Kira to be okay with any kind of touch at all outside of an incredibly formal handshake, after all...but Adriana was not in the mood for jubilance, today. She relinquished the cookies and tea, though as soon as they were in the sitting room she began preparing a cup for herself, with hands that were only shaking a very little. Hardly noticeable.

"The Novitate threatened to demote me to Initiate." Adriana settled down on the couch, looking into her teacup. "Because I had the gall to suggest that this message was not something to be hated or feared but rather something to be celebrated. And because I had the further gall to express my upset when he intended to blame 'rogue Immersives' in his public-message blast."

She paused, sipped her tea. "Is there any way you can block the connection between my mother and I? Mark my number unreachable or something? She's been constantly trying to call and message me, but after she sided with the Novitate over me, I have no desire to speak with her currently. And it's very annoying. Since she's set as my emergency contact, I cannot fully block her myself."

Another pause, and Adriana's eyes lifted to her friend.

"I believe it is time that those of us who follow the Navigator and have not become blinded by fear or corruption or the premise of power break apart from those that are such. I believe it is time for a new Novitate, especially in light of these most recent messages. The Navigator - or a mouthpiece she has chosen - is trying to communicate. Suppressing that goes against everything I have ever believed in, and yet it is the rallying cry of the head of my Order. I am not overly smart, but even I can see...the lines are shaking. Something is bound to crack."

Kira's worry ratcheted higher as her friend simply accepted the hug and let herself be led into the sitting room. That wasn't like Adri at all! Something had to be very wrong. And though she didn't notice the shaking hands, she did see the way the cup in Adri's hand seemed to shiver as she held it.

Very wrong indeed.

And then she started to speak, and it all began to make sense. Kira left her own tea by the table, setting herself down close to her friend on the sofa, just beyond the edge of touching. She wasn't sure exactly where this was going, but...she remembered talks like this after they'd first met, where she had been the one sitting like Adri was, shivering on the outside and far worse further in. And she remembered how she'd often needed touch, someone to just be there as she'd helped her unravel the tangled mess that had been her emotional state then.

The threat of the Novitate did not surprise her, nor his direction of attack against the message that had flooded the ship. Kira had long ago come to the conclusion that he and many like him had trapped themselves in the past, wishing for a time when they had been the undisputed voices who spoke for the Navigator. And though no Coderunner had ever publicly spoken against that ideal, their very existence had steadily shattered the pillars that it rested upon. And she and those like her...they'd only accelerated that process. She wouldn't accept that it was quite their fault, but it had certainly been part of what led to this.

And even if that hadn't been the case, she owed Adri, for everything she'd done for her. So she listened as best she could, then as her friend finished talking she reached out. Her own hand was shivering slightly as she placed it gently on Adri's. It wasn't for any real reason, just to let her know that she was there. At least that's what she told herself - rather sternly in fact.

"I can shift your emergency contact to someone else if you'd like me to. I can lock those out, but it's toeing the line in what I should do as a Coderunner." Normally Kira would be more than willing to bend those rules a little for a friend, but right now...she really shouldn't. Switching the emergency contact would do the job though, and that was a standard procedure. Right now however, yes, there was something else she could do. A few changes to the local 'sphere and...done.

"For now, I've locked her ID out of our local firewall. As you're inside of that on a Datasphere level, it'll prevent connections until you're outside of the house." But with the technical problem resolved - she hoped - things became rather more...messy. Despite how much she listened to Adri when she talked, Kira really didn't know that much of the Cult of the Navigator's politics. She knew that there had now long been a schism brewing, something that her friend had talked about at length on occasion, worrying mostly about the repercussions of such an act. And yet her sitting here shaking - she could feel it now - as she talked about the possibility of it truly happening. It was different. Very different. But then reality catching up to you often was. So she took her time, and tried her best.

"I'm...very sorry, Adri. We're doing what we can to track down the source of that message, but I feel that I can promise you this; it was the work of no Coderunner. We - that is, the Immersives - are taking lead on this, due to...well...many things, but most key among them being that we were the first to see what was happening. And..." she paused, wrestling with herself. Yes, of course she knew the rules. And of course she had to uphold them. But the lines here were difficult. Adrianna was a Novitate-Elect, she had sat on Ship Council meetings, and in that respect she was someone that she could talk to freely. And yet at the same time...she was a Novitate-Elect.

It wasn't that Kira distrusted her friend, far from it. It was simply...where the fruit of that trust might land. The Coderunners were very clear that, on the issue of the Cult, they had no desire to involve themselves in what many believed would be the next-best thing to a religious war. Oh, perhaps she was overdramatic as to exactly what it would be, but it made little difference in many ways. But Adri was also her friend. Didn't she deserve at least what she could give her?

"I worry, Adri." She finished finally. "There are deep currents here, not just with your Order. If my kind did not exist, the Coderunners would still be grasping at straws as to the method of the message's distribution. Thanks to us they are not, yet that we have no been forced to prove that we can see what they cannot...it cannot not raise tensions in some ways. I...say this only because I wish to show I understand, in context. Your situation though is far more strained then our own." She took a sip from her tea, still overly careful from the incident in the morning. "What I have been taught is conflicted on this, for that of me which is only a Coderunner would prefer greatly to be spared the uncertainty of a schism within one of the oldest and still among the most powerful groups upon the Aeternus. And yet that which is me...Adri, I have said many times that my parents taught me to do what I felt was right."

"It was that sentiment that led me to join the investigation that I have talked to you about before. It was that which led me to become your friend in the end, overcoming any fear of friction that it still might cause. But that is not all of me. I am a Coderunner, and Immersive, too. So...I do not know if I can help you." She squeezed her friend's forearm. "But you said you had questions, and as your friend I will do my best to answer them. She almost didn't say her next words, but some part of her that the young woman in front of her had helped unlock overrode her mind. And so she spoke them, with care, and affection.

"Please, ask."


March 12, 327 LE
Early Evening
Various

When the first attack had hit the Datasphere, hijacking every connected device on the ship to spread its message, it had been all but unseen to all except the Immersives within the Substrate before its effect was seen in physical reality. It had been, to use more military terms, a surprise attack against unprepared and soft positions. Here and there particularly swift Coderunners had locked out the foreign commands flooding the system around them, but for the most part it had been a 'Pearl Harbour' - ship slang for a perfect and successful surprise. But when you were fighting a war, you only got one of those.

In the hours since that first attack - and it had been nothing less- the Coderunners had roused to such life that few alive could remember, setting themselves on what could only be called a full war footing. All across the Datasphere they watched now, with a neurosurgeon's concentration. And as the traditional elements secured the local Datasphere, the Immersives of the CAS response team - in fact the majority of their highly skilled number - delved steadily into the hidden datapaths inside the Substrate that had been used to distribute the message and the commands that had forced it to pass. There were few clues beyond those paths, which was a clue in and of itself, yet what was truly important was that the Immersives were there.

So when 'Never Forget' tried to spread its message again, it met far stiffer resistance, from Coderunner groups on far higher alert for interference then they had been a few hours past. On the upper and mid decks, many Fabricators were in fact unaffected by the attempted override, as local Coderunner elements tore the foreign command sequences apart before they could execute. Lines of what was for all intents and purposes Datasphere napalm scoured the fragments of code that remained from existence, burning away any possibility that they would be able to see through whatever task they'd been designed to complete. And on the level between, as the backbone of their organisation hammered flat the second attack on their home, the Immersives were too rewarded by the overconfidence of the mind behind these messages.

Foolish, to think that there would be no response to its first attack.

And as the most skilled among them turned to track the newly traced datapaths, the rest rushed to find a fix to those Fabricators - many the only source of food for their deck area, especially on the lower decks - that had not been protected. There was little they could do to dislodge the viruses without too damaging the hardware to which they were connected, yet there was a way to remove them. Except that the firewalls of the mid-deck Fabs had remained under attack until they were fully disconnected from the Datasphere. It left the Fabbers with access to nothing more than their internal memory, but a choice between networked recipes and none at all was no choice at all. So not only must they remove the viruses, they must ensure that those programs would not be able to find a hold anew. That was possible too...but the method. The Immersives considered for a long moment, then queried their superiors. Technically Lea could authorise it herself, but a second opinion was rarely without use.

The Coderunners considered too, but quickly came to a decision. Given the possibility for chaos in the lower decks, minor damage now would be worth averting the possible destruction. Unpleasant it might be, but the solution was a solution. And that was what they needed right now.

All across the lower decks, the blue-screened Fabricators started going dark, blacking out as overrides disabled their power. Full resets were queued, but these were somewhat different to your normal. Old code, designed in the Blackwar specifically to reset and destructively disable the wireless connection capacity of the system they were loaded on to. Extremely well secured and little talked of code too, for that exact reason. Only the declaration of a Coderunner Authority Situation, or the approval of the Ship Council outside of one, could sanction its use.

The Coderunners passed the reports to the Engineers, making them aware of the Fabricators that were about to go dark in the network, and that they were not to be repaired. A basic explanation was given, with the promise of a further one soonest - given the regularity that the Coderunners and Engineers worked together, it would probably be enough to placate them. Hopefully. Fabricators went down, sparked a few moments, and then came back online steadily, but as people approached them again they found a sadly reduced menu available. Only locally stored recipes remained. For some, those who kept hard storage of favourites to carry with them, this wasn't so bad. They could still upload through the hardport. Anything else was lost, or unable to be uploaded.

Screens near the Fabs lit up with new messages to explain, citing the newly declared Coderunner Authority Situation and stating that all non-secured Fabricators had been reset to defaults to purge the foreign command protocols. Hardport uploads would function, wireless connection was no longer possible. If repaired, the connection would allow those foreign commands to disable the Fabricator again. Further announcements would come as the situation changed. Added was a contact line, a dedicated address for situations such as this, with a call for any who had knowledge of the event's mechanics to come forward.

The Coderunners succeed in throwing back the second wave attack by 'Never Forget', jamming the commands of the systems on a local level and using CAS destructive reboot programs to purge them from the affected Fabricators - the vast majority of them - and prevent any further commands from being passed to them through the Datasphere. Although their menu may now be somewhat bland, the Fabricators will function again.

[omnitricks]

Sunny and Blitz
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Noonish
The Rustbucket

The Wraith stared at the suitcase thief dumbfounded. Jace didn't say nothing about no xenotech in the transport and impatiant Blitz who couldn't put the things which were being told to him together thinking about attacking and snatching the suitcase, his suitcase, until she cleared up that the suitcase was a separate thing entirely. And it was still something that he'd want for himself.

And so was the money. Although...

"Not 30% for bodyguard. 40%. And the suitcase. I'll take suitcase as deposit. No. Downpayment." Blitz said with a little finality in his tone. If he was going to have to provide a little show of force Blitz knew that it would probably turn out with him having to go violent for real and if somehow his client was slipped away during the confusion he'd still have the main item to show the boys so he wouldn't show up like some scrub.

As he tried to put together his next moves in his head, Blitz asked hurriedly "So deal? No deal?"

[Rain Dragon]

327 L.E. March 12th
Afternoon
Treasure Hold

'Whoever those people were, they're long gone now,' Rikki sent to Zyn.

Rikki slipped the drone into her coat and resumed walking. Li Chang Hao's shop wasn't far away. The gift Rikki had commissioned for Zyn was not far away.

'Zyn,' she began hesitantly. 'I'm not a philosopher but living your existence must be hard. It must be like living in a small dark room you can never leave, knowing that the world is outside and only being able to interact with that world when it chooses to remember where the door is.'

And they had finally arrived at their destination. It was a small shop that seemed to be sandwiched between the much larger businesses on either side. But it stood out regardless. Rikki's father had once told her that the design had been inspired by an old vid file and the imitation wood veneer, large window for the purpose of displaying wares (in actuality a holo-display) and authentic old-fashioned bell over the door, did certainly lend credence to that fact. Hao's Custom Hardware, the sign read.

'And I would hate that.' Rikki pushed the door open, bell tinkling as she walked in. 'So, I had an old friend of my father's put something together. A means for you to have access to an independent audiovisual source. As a bonus it's also a rather stylish accessory.

"Rikki! It is so good to see you," the proprietor exclaimed, bustling out from behind the counter. "I have that order you requested. I just finished in fact, come and take a look."

Latching onto Rikki's hand he began to draw her into the shop's depths. Long used to his exuberant ways, Rikki let herself be led into the back room.

"Mr. Hao-"

"Please, call me Li," he smiled, "why is it that I must keep reminding you of this?"

"Because my father taught me to be respectful towards old fools like yourself."



-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Afternoon
Treasure Hold


[Ah. Ah well.] Zyn sent to Rikki before falling silent to think on how best to troubleshoot the courier bot.

His thoughts were interrupted by Rikki's musings. Half-figured out methods forgotten for the moment, he found himself at a loss for words. After a moment he noted quietly and carefully, [It is all I have known and for only a short time. I am not sure how it would be to receive audio and visuals at will, but...] For the first time Zyn found himself faced with the inability to properly express the gratitude he felt and froze. After a moment, he began with a simple [Thank you...] only to find himself unsure how to continue.

For once, he left Rikki in the dark as he attempted to find a solution that doesn't always exist.

[Kitsanth]

-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Afternoon
Treasure Hold


[Ah. Ah well.] Zyn sent to Rikki before falling silent to think on how best to troubleshoot the courier bot.

His thoughts were interrupted by Rikki's musings. Half-figured out methods forgotten for the moment, he found himself at a loss for words. After a moment he noted quietly and carefully, [It is all I have known and for only a short time. I am not sure how it would be to receive audio and visuals at will, but...] For the first time Zyn found himself faced with the inability to properly express the gratitude he felt and froze. After a moment, he began with a simple [Thank you...] only to find himself unsure how to continue.

For once, he left Rikki in the dark as he attempted to find a solution that doesn't always exist.

327 L.E. March 12th
Afternoon
Treasure Hold

Li laughed. "And yet you always say that.

Waving for one of his assistants to cover the counter, Li pulled Rikki into the backroom. Gesturing towards the main workbench with a flourish he waited for his companion to admire his latest work of genius.

But Rikki was distracted. 'No need for thanks really, my motives aren't entirely altruistic,' she commented cryptically.

An impatient tug on her arm brought Rikki's attention back to immediate happenings. Right, appreciation of technical savvy was required at this point. Rikki walked over to the bench, reclaiming her hand in the process, and gave the scattered components a once over.

"It was a very clever idea," Li commented, "A non-networked wristcomp disguised as a component of a more common model? I wish I had thought of that."

"To be honest, it wasn't entirely my idea either," she admitted, "it doesn't seem finished yet."

"It's supposed to look that way!" he huffed, disappointed that his genius was being doubted, "I thought you would prefer this to be integrated into your current model. Lucky for you I designed that one as well, now hand it over. It'll be a little bulkier once I'm done but that can't be helped."

Rikki hesitated, she had had this device for several years by this point and wasn't actually all that comfortable with this idea now that she was being confronted with the reality of implementing it. She'd grown attached.

"The installation should take about half an hour tops, if I get started now."

Realising that backing out at this point would be ridiculous, Rikki unbuckled the clasps that secured her wristcomp to her right arm and handed it over.

"I'll just go browse," she said and left the workroom.

Perhaps there would be HSD software about?

[zabbarot]

Andy
Somewhere in Lowhab...
March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon

Munching on his sandwich, Andy noticed a humanoid figure standing around 20 meters away from him, appearing to stare at him. It was no matter, he got stared at alot anyway. He was also too far away to see his face properly, but Andy waved at him in a greeting while continuing to munch on his snack.

Suddenly, he felt a disturbance in his Swarm. One of his beetles found something weird. Something that caused it to display territorial behaviour. Intesting...

Leaning back, Andy focused his mind on the beetle, and took over its senses. The beetle was staring at the back of a strange small creature, with a metaline shell covering it.
A new species of insect? That would make a pretty good article, combined with the data he already found. Andy focused his mind on the strange creature and tried to take over it's sight and establish a connection.....but he didn't feel anything. No brain, no nerves, nothing.

Shocked, Andy took a closer look at the creature. Maybe it was a mechanical lifeform. Those the humans called "robots". Andy knew that much of the ship relied upon their workings and he even knew the basics of how they worked (about as much as the average ship-living human). However, he didn't have much interest in them, as they were mostly immobile and frankly quite boring.

This one however... He had to take a closer look at. Clicking with curiousity, Andy commanded the beetle to poke the thing with a horn, trying to provoke a reaction.


FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
Low Habitability Zones/Lower Habitats
Early-Evening

FS16K4 started to calm down a bit since it was clear that the creature didn't notice him. He started moving the microbot closer for a better view when he was accosted by a beetle! /* Shoo! Go away! (っﾟ⊿ﾟ)っﾊ */ The microbot stood on it's tip toes and waved it's arms at the beetle trying to shoo it away, but the beetle advanced!

/* NO! (;ﾟﾛﾟ)ﾉ Bad bug! */ The microbot flailed helplessly as the beetle tapped it with it's horn. It's tiny arms waved violently from side to side eventually, and accidentally, striking the beetle! /* (ﾟΩﾟ;) Aaaah! Oh no! Oh no! Is it okay? */ FS16K4 was almost scared to look, and the microbot covered it's sensors reflexively. Eventually he peeked between his arms, and saw that the beetle was unfazed.

[WaylanderX]

FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
Low Habitability Zones/Lower Habitats
Early-Evening

FS16K4 started to calm down a bit since it was clear that the creature didn't notice him. He started moving the microbot closer for a better view when he was accosted by a beetle! /* Shoo! Go away! (っﾟ⊿ﾟ)っﾊ */ The microbot stood on it's tip toes and waved it's arms at the beetle trying to shoo it away, but the beetle advanced!

/* NO! (;ﾟﾛﾟ)ﾉ Bad bug! */ The microbot flailed helplessly as the beetle tapped it with it's horn. It's tiny arms waved violently from side to side eventually, and accidentally, striking the beetle! /* (ﾟΩﾟ;) Aaaah! Oh no! Oh no! Is it okay? */ FS16K4 was almost scared to look, and the microbot covered it's sensors reflexively. Eventually he peeked between his arms, and saw that the beetle was unfazed.

Andy
Somewhere in Lowhab...
March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon

The critter appeared distressed. So it could feel emotion... Hmmm. He wouldn't want the little thing to flee. More research was mandatory to get a more firm grip on it's workings. Andy directed the beetle to make stay put, and he transferred his sight to another member of his swarm, a big bee-like creature this time. The bee buzzed towards the metalic bug, who was hopefully still focussed on the beetle. The bee circled around him to get a better look on the make-up of the creature.

Using the bee's eyes, Andy blindly took another sandwich out of his bag which lay in his lap, taking a big nice bite. Hhhmm, honey. Delicious.

[Tychris1]

327 Lost Era, March 12th, Morning
LowHab, The Perpetual Neighbour



Shimona had moved on to tinkering with the settings on the coffee machine since she'd asked "Joe" about working for her. She looked up with a "hm" and when she realized he'd been speaking to her in reply, she smiled. "I'm looking to increase the entertainment value of my establishment. The holographic inter-communication with other Neighbour's Houses works fine enough, even though the Perp is much smaller, but we could use a bit more pizzazz here, 'know what I mean?" She let it linger for a bit as if it wasn't entirely rhetorical. "So, what I need you for is to pick up a dart board on the upper levels." She handed him a colourful piece of paper with details on the location and company, with a post-it attached to it giving the specifics of the order.


Perpetual Neighbour owner Shimona Sayre-Aran is in need of a dart board for her establishment! She has ordered an Ultimate Laser Darts board from Gameroom Improvement Inc and requires someone to pick it up for her, as her schedule doesn't leave a lot of time for her to do so.

Gameroom Improvement Inc. is located on Deck 33. Ultimate Laser Darts comes in a multi-compartment box to keep the darts separate from the board to prevent premature explosions.

Wilbert read over the paper lazily, his eyes perking up by the time he finished reading it, and against his nature he cracked a smile to Shimona. Folding the paper he placed it in his red chrome "backpack" and proceeded to finish off the dregs of alcohol he had leftover.

"Thank you, so much. I promise I won't let you down, I'll be back in a second!."

Throwing his backpack over his shoulders, Wilbert jogged out of the Perpetual Neighbor and proceeded to sprint to the nearest tubes. Deck 33 wasn't too far away, and maybe if he did the job fast enough he'd be able to get more work from the Bartender. A rather well dressed business man was checking his watch when it came time for him to enter the tubes, but Wilbert was on a quest, and in awkward sincerity and zealous fervor he bumbled out.

"Sorry but I really gotta take this!"

And with that he shoved him out of the way and jumped into the tube, quickly leaving behind a slew of curses and threats as the executive figured out what just happened.


March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

"I agree completely with most of what you just said, Mr. Hero Man." Ash shook his massive armored hand and turned to look at the cruiser the Navi was piloting. It hovered menacingly between her and Specter's proffered hovercycle like a giant goalie. Then she got Specter's 'send.'

It's a veritable cluster-orgy, she sent back. Problems have arrived from all over the ship and are breeding like incestuous rabbits. I've convinced one of them to help us as a means of thinning the herd.

The psychic briefly debated how to deploy her new asset. While the effects of her convincing him that she was the good guy in all of this wouldn't fade the way emotions did, there was nothing to stop PALADIN - or even just new information - from convincing him otherwise. She needed to either get him away from the police, or else in deep enough trouble that further dialogue would be impossible. "If Shelly and I can get past that cruiser, I think we'll be on our way out. Do you think you can disable it?"

If Ash could see through Xartoc's helmet she would see a rather heavy eyebrow raised to her at the request. Folding his arms, Xartoc shook his head at the Psychic Robin Hoodess.

"Sorry Lady but I'm not about to go wreck some innocent PALADIN's vehicle, but that doesn't mean I can't help you get past it. If you trust me that is."

Unfolding his arms, he held both of them out to Ash and Shelly, palms up, and after a second he jerked a thumb towards his back. Wilbert mulled over exactly what he was offering these two women as he did so, the prospect of outrunning a vehicle wasn't a very appealing one, especially since his suit was still recovering from the intense overclocking he had put it through just to get here. Flicking through the strange garbled interface, he contemplated pressing one of the buttons available to him, in the vain hope that it would get him out of this situation. In all reality damaging the PALADIN vehicle, and potentially the driver inside, was the easiest way of going about this.

But Xartoc wouldn't do that, he'd find another way..... Somehow.

Wilbert thought to himself, and in that split moment he had made up his mind and steeled himself for further heroics. He'd get these two damsels out of here, even if it meant getting hit by a PALADIN vehicle in the process.

"Trust me, outrunning danger while carrying a damsel in distress is my specialty. Two of them will just double the Prowess! I can hear the stories now... No time to waste, hop on board!"

Dear God I hope this works.

[zabbarot]

Andy
Somewhere in Lowhab...
March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon

The critter appeared distressed. So it could feel emotion... Hmmm. He wouldn't want the little thing to flee. More research was mandatory to get a more firm grip on it's workings. Andy directed the beetle to make stay put, and he transferred his sight to another member of his swarm, a big bee-like creature this time. The bee buzzed towards the metallic bug, who was hopefully still focused on the beetle. The bee circled around him to get a better look on the make-up of the creature.

Using the bee's eyes, Andy blindly took another sandwich out of his bag which lay in his lap, taking a big nice bite. Hhhmm, honey. Delicious.

FS16K4
March 12, 327 LE
Low Habitability Zones/Lower Habitats
Early-Evening

FS16K4 reached out to touch the beetle with a prodding foot. It didn't move. He angled his head and took a few steps left then right to get a good look at the beetle. It seemed like it was still alive, but it was unresponsive now. /* ( ・◇・)？ Maybe it's sleeping? Do bugs have eyelids? */ He tapped it again, this time on the head, and watched as it submissively took a step back. /* !!! It is awake. Why did it stop... (・ヘ・) */

Meanwhile from his distant vantage point FS16K4 watched as a bee floated up near his microbot. /* So many bugs today. */ FS16K4 didn't even remember the last time he saw a bug up close. They usually ran away. /* Bug looking creature... lots of bugs... (￣□￣ ) What a weird coincidence. */

[TheDarkDM]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

At the appearance of the PALADIN hovercar, Shelly skidded to a stop alongside Ash. As the armored officer exited the vehicle, she flashed through the options available to them. Combat was not out of the question, but would almost certainly attract even more attention than they already had. They were unlikely to outrun the hovercar, and without any real ordinance it would be almost impossible to disable it. Of course there was the off chance that-

"JUUUUUSSSSTTTIIIIIICCCEEE!!!"

Shelly's line of thought was interrupted by the sudden impact of a crimson blur on the roof. Her body tensed as the armored figure that rose from the crater pointed towards Ash and issued a challenge. But before she could leap into action, Ash interposed herself in front of Shelly and began talking. And miraculously, the armored figure listened. As he and Ash exchanged questions and explanations, Shelly's stance melted into one more reminiscent of the girl who had wandered into the Treasure Hold, though Ash could still feel the cold steel of whatever it was that had come over her firmly in control. But then the figure in armor presented his back, and Shelly felt the need to speak.

"Oh please, Mister...Xartoc, you have to save us. You don't know what they threatened to do to me! If you could just hold them off, I think I know a place we could hide."

Collapsing into Ash's arms in a way that hopefully concealed the tight hold Shelly had suddenly taken on the smaller woman, she began half-stumbling, half dragging Ash around the PALADIN vehicle.

"Please, just hold them back! Don't let them take me back there!"

[Rain Dragon]

327 L.E. March 12th
Afternoon
Treasure Hold

Li laughed. "And yet you always say that.

Waving for one of his assistants to cover the counter, Li pulled Rikki into the backroom. Gesturing towards the main workbench with a flourish he waited for his companion to admire his latest work of genius.

But Rikki was distracted. 'No need for thanks really, my motives aren't entirely altruistic,' she commented cryptically.

An impatient tug on her arm brought Rikki's attention back to immediate happenings. Right, appreciation of technical savvy was required at this point. Rikki walked over to the bench, reclaiming her hand in the process, and gave the scattered components a once over.

"It was a very clever idea," Li commented, "A non-networked wristcomp disguised as a component of a more common model? I wish I had thought of that."

"To be honest, it wasn't entirely my idea either," she admitted, "it doesn't seem finished yet."

"It's supposed to look that way!" he huffed, disappointed that his genius was being doubted, "I thought you would prefer this to be integrated into your current model. Lucky for you I designed that one as well, now hand it over. It'll be a little bulkier once I'm done but that can't be helped."

Rikki hesitated, she had had this device for several years by this point and wasn't actually all that comfortable with this idea now that she was being confronted with the reality of implementing it. She'd grown attached.

"The installation should take about half an hour tops, if I get started now."

Realising that backing out at this point would be ridiculous, Rikki unbuckled the clasps that secured her wristcomp to her right arm and handed it over.

"I'll just go browse," she said and left the workroom.

Perhaps there would be HSD software about?



-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Afternoon
Treasure Hold


Zyn found Rikki's response to his gratitude much easier to respond to at first. [If that is so, I may not want the audiovisual service.] He immediately cursed some of his more impulsive processes.

[What exactly is it?] he responded more carefully.

[Jade_Tarem]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noonish

Ash deliberately shielded the burst of glee she felt as Shelly figured out how to play along. Quick study! She instead schooled her features into urgency and apprehension as she let the taller woman guide her toward the cruiser. "Yeeeeah, I think we'll pass on Mr. Toad's Skeleton-Pulping Ride. You might be armored and cozy, but the first mistake you make will be fatal to us." Well, she doubted throwing Shelly at a wall at 140kph would do anything more than ruin the wall, but she kept that to herself. She took one more fast look at the cruiser to size up what the officers within were up to, and then spoke up again. "If you want to be a vigilante but don't want the cops mad at you, fine." The psychic snorted. "Meet us later at Orion's Belt and you can learn the part of this they didn't mention on the news."

[Kitsanth]

-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Afternoon
Treasure Hold


Zyn found Rikki's response to his gratitude much easier to respond to at first. [If that is so, I may not want the audiovisual service.] He immediately cursed some of his more impulsive processes.

[What exactly is it?] he responded more carefully.

327 L.E. March 12th
Afternoon
Treasure Hold

Rikki paused her browsing of the software display. It seemed that her word choice hadn't been the best. She pondered a response carefully.

'What is it they say?' Rikki began, 'two pairs of eyes can see more than one? I do spend a lot of hours alone on stakeouts... or breaking into places I shouldn't be.'

'A second perspective is always handy in my line of work, just like that time with the flags and the removalist. Plus I do tend to see a lot of interesting people while I'm on a case'

[Rain Dragon]

327 L.E. March 12th
Afternoon
Treasure Hold

Rikki paused her browsing of the software display. It seemed that her word choice hadn't been the best. She pondered a response carefully.

'What is it they say?' Rikki began, 'two pairs of eyes can see more than one? I do spend a lot of hours alone on stakeouts... or breaking into places I shouldn't be.'

'A second perspective is always handy in my line of work, just like that time with the flags and the removalist. Plus I do tend to see a lot of interesting people while I'm on a case'


-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Afternoon
Treasure Hold



For the first time, Zyn instinctively 'breathed' a sigh of relief and spent a few microseconds refocusing and calming the processes which had caused him to feel... was it defensive? Agitated? Suspicious? More data was needed. Zyn became painfully aware once more that though his installation was not yet completed, he knew less about himself than he felt he should by now. [Ah. I'd still consider this altruism. As you say, connected to the CMA I am isolated for the most part however to stay with your home mainframe is isolated in a different manner. Besides...] Zyn sent an image of himself raising an eyebrow and smiling briefly, [The flags and removalist thing was much more amusing than watching the retro animation of the pirate in the straw hat for the thirty-eighth time. It would also be good to see some interesting people.]

"And, done!" Li beamed as he strode toward the software display. "I added a few extra features, no extra charge! See?" He held out the tray with Rikki's Wristcomp on it so she could examine the device. Magnetic tech similar to that found in courier bots caused the Wristcomp to hover a small distance off the tray and rotate slowly.

[Kitsanth]

-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Afternoon
Treasure Hold



For the first time, Zyn instinctively 'breathed' a sigh of relief and spent a few microseconds refocusing and calming the processes which had caused him to feel... was it defensive? Agitated? Suspicious? More data was needed. Zyn became painfully aware once more that though his installation was not yet completed, he knew less about himself than he felt he should by now. [Ah. I'd still consider this altruism. As you say, connected to the CMA I am isolated for the most part however to stay with your home mainframe is isolated in a different manner. Besides...] Zyn sent an image of himself raising an eyebrow and smiling briefly, [The flags and removalist thing was much more amusing than watching the retro animation of the pirate in the straw hat for the thirty-eighth time. It would also be good to see some interesting people.]

"And, done!" Li beamed as he strode toward the software display. "I added a few extra features, no extra charge! See?" He held out the tray with Rikki's Wristcomp on it so she could examine the device. Magnetic tech similar to that found in courier bots caused the Wristcomp to hover a small distance off the tray and rotate slowly.

327 L.E. March 12th
Afternoon
Treasure Hold

Conversations with Zyn were hard. He was clearly a sapient being, every interaction with him was clear indication of this fact. It was the complete lack of any empathic contact that made things difficult. The lesson in this was probably that she shouldn't be relying on her abilities as a crutch but... she could thik about that later.

'Well, you're in luck there,' Rikki sent, 'I have that high-stakes tournament coming up and a few surveillance gigs scheduled for later in the week-'

"And, done! I added a few extra features, no extra charge! See?"

And somehow Li was still managing to sneak up on her. Sure Rikki had been chatting with Zyn whilst pretending to browse the software display but people just shouldn't be getting the drop on her like this. Maybe those rumours she had heard were true and Li had in fact been involved with classified Corps operations. It would certainly explain how a man older than her father would be could consistently pull off this feat and also justify his continual access to high-end tech.
Like modular wrist-comps. Even the addition of the magnetic engine barely impacted the lines of Rikki's older model device.

The effect of which Rikki was cautiously eyeing now, most people in low-hab didn't bother with mods like this for their personal computers. Flashy had a tendency to attract attention but Rikki also spent plenty of time outside low-hab in places where a lack of flash made one stand out. A closer look soon revealed that the attachment points for the old-fashioned clasps were still there, just cleverly disguised so... Congratulations were clearly in order and Li was obviously expecting them.

"Yet another success Li. Are you sure you only want the agreed price?" she asked hesitantly.

Taking the upgraded wristcomp from it's presentation tray, a few practised taps on the primary screen brought up a menu. Some of these features...

"A lot of this is non-standard," Rikki said softly.

Yes... definitely classified ops. Not a lot of other people would run mods like these as standard. If nothing else, it seemed Rikki had truly earned old Hao's trust.

A slight look of hurt had appeared on Li's face when Rikki suggested that she pay more. It was admittedly very fine work but a deal was a deal.

"For the daughter of my old friend, there are never any extra charges at this shop," he stated once Rikki finished her inspection. "The work you bring me is interesting enough that I would do it for free even!"

He sighed, "but I know you would not accept that."

"We seem to have this conversation a lot too," Rikki commented, slightly chagrined.

"Now, grab that software you've been eyeing and come on over to the counter so we can organise the credit transfer," he said exuberantly, clapping Rikki on the shoulder. If he had heard her earlier euphemism about non-standard features, well he gave no sign of it.

A minute later, credit exchanging had ensued and Rikki was out the door, vastly improved wristcomp securely fastened to her arm and Li's parting words - "My wife is expecting you for tea at week's end!" - still ringing in her ears.

Huh.

'So...' Rikki sent hesitantly, 'Zyn, how do you feel about tea?'

[Gengy]

Ollie Ahberon
Exiting the Lift
3rd Floor
Early Evening

Checking his watch, Ollie is pleased to see that they are ahead of schedule. When the door to the lift opens, he grabs a hold of the HH-LC, while motioning for Blue to stay seated. "Graff, please make sure Engineer Vega is able to get to his domicile and back here with his gear, dammit, Blue before the meeting. Feel free to be a bit rough on the private lifts if you need to. We'll fix any damages later."

The way Ollie said it, it was hard to tell if he meant damages to the lifts... or the occupant. Probably the lifts, though. Probably.

"Blue, get ready for the ride of your life. I'll get someone from the Bay to get your stuff and meet you at a point that Graff can have them toss your kit inside, so that you have it and you are back here on the double." With a slightly sane grin - for no one would dare accuse Oliver Ahberon of being crazy (well, except for most of the ship) - Ollie waved bye-bye to Blue, and jumping out of the lift, he patted the side with finality.

The door suddenly closed on Vega, and Ollie privately hoped the Engineer was still strapped in properly. As promised, Oliver sent a priority message to the Bay to have someone collect the missing gear, and working with Graff, arranged a meeting point for the private lift to be met and have the gear handed off to it's owner.

That problem solved, Ollie strutted along the lovely and well maintained section of the 3rd Floor towards the meeting room, a smile on his face and a little hum in his heart. After all... he doesn't get to come up this high very often, Chief Engineer or no.

[Rain Dragon]

327 L.E. March 12th
Afternoon
Treasure Hold

Conversations with Zyn were hard. He was clearly a sapient being, every interaction with him was clear indication of this fact. It was the complete lack of any empathic contact that made things difficult. The lesson in this was probably that she shouldn't be relying on her abilities as a crutch but... she could thik about that later.

'Well, you're in luck there,' Rikki sent, 'I have that high-stakes tournament coming up and a few surveillance gigs scheduled for later in the week-'

"And, done! I added a few extra features, no extra charge! See?"

And somehow Li was still managing to sneak up on her. Sure Rikki had been chatting with Zyn whilst pretending to browse the software display but people just shouldn't be getting the drop on her like this. Maybe those rumours she had heard were true and Li had in fact been involved with classified Corps operations. It would certainly explain how a man older than her father would be could consistently pull off this feat and also justify his continual access to high-end tech.
Like modular wrist-comps. Even the addition of the magnetic engine barely impacted the lines of Rikki's older model device.

The effect of which Rikki was cautiously eyeing now, most people in low-hab didn't bother with mods like this for their personal computers. Flashy had a tendency to attract attention but Rikki also spent plenty of time outside low-hab in places where a lack of flash made one stand out. A closer look soon revealed that the attachment points for the old-fashioned clasps were still there, just cleverly disguised so... Congratulations were clearly in order and Li was obviously expecting them.

"Yet another success Li. Are you sure you only want the agreed price?" she asked hesitantly.

Taking the upgraded wristcomp from it's presentation tray, a few practised taps on the primary screen brought up a menu. Some of these features...

"A lot of this is non-standard," Rikki said softly.

Yes... definitely classified ops. Not a lot of other people would run mods like these as standard. If nothing else, it seemed Rikki had truly earned old Hao's trust.

A slight look of hurt had appeared on Li's face when Rikki suggested that she pay more. It was admittedly very fine work but a deal was a deal.

"For the daughter of my old friend, there are never any extra charges at this shop," he stated once Rikki finished her inspection. "The work you bring me is interesting enough that I would do it for free even!"

He sighed, "but I know you would not accept that."

"We seem to have this conversation a lot too," Rikki commented, slightly chagrined.

"Now, grab that software you've been eyeing and come on over to the counter so we can organise the credit transfer," he said exuberantly, clapping Rikki on the shoulder. If he had heard her earlier euphemism about non-standard features, well he gave no sign of it.

A minute later, credit exchanging had ensued and Rikki was out the door, vastly improved wristcomp securely fastened to her arm and Li's parting words - "My wife is expecting you for tea at week's end!" - still ringing in her ears.

Huh.

'So...' Rikki sent hesitantly, 'Zyn, how do you feel about tea?'


-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Afternoon
Treasure Hold



Zyn was about to respond when it seemed Rikki was interrupted. It was unimportant, but he wondered what sort of an impact the Courier Bot would have on Zyn's life and thus availability for 'a few surveillance gigs'. If it were discarded over an issue Zyn could fix quickly, his horizons were expanded significantly provided Rikki allowed him the freedom. This worried him perhaps significantly less than it arguably should, though the thought was filed somewhere that was easy to retrieve should he need to. Thus far it seemed unlikely and so Zyn retrieved and began to analyze the images of the Courier Bot Rikki had sent him. There was little he could discern from them, however; only that what was visible seemed to be the same as images he'd seen before. More data was required.

Instead he decided to tweak some of the musical ideas he had earlier. He was just experimenting with some rhythms when Rikki asked him a question which seemed to lack context.

[Without further details, I do not know. For one, I cannot taste tea.] Zyn sent back, clearly not entirely seriously. Curiously he adds, [Are you still going to Canasta?]

[ChronicLunacy]

http://imageshack.com/a/img905/173/7jwXT2.jpg Detective-Inspector Anders Beckett
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Paladin Precinct 326
Noonish

The aircab that Beckett had "appropriated" came to an abrupt halt over the hangar with a whine of protesting hover engines as he pulled back on them too hard. He sent the vehicle into a lazy loop, circling over the area with his driver's side window angled down so that he could get a good look at the ground and through the hangar door unless the PALADINs' cruiser was blocking it too much. "Inspector Beckett to PALADIN overwatch. What's the situation?" he called to whoever was left in the driver's seat. (Kasanip) As he waited for a response he also pulled up the latest situation reports from PALADIN HQ, tapping into the force-wide broadcasts of what they knew.

Spending a Plot Ticket if I need to in order to get into the scene.

[TheDarkDM]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

Shelly had been content to let Ash work her magic on Xartoc - after all, the PALADIN officers seemed to have been stunned into a holding pattern by the red figure's arrival. But as yet another player entered the scene, the precinct hangar became officially too crowded for comfort.

"Please just hold them off, Mister Xartoc! You don't know what they'll do to us if they catch us."

With that, Shelly all but lifted Ash and made a break for the waiting hoverbike. She wasn't sure what she was trusting more, Xartoc, the PALADIN officer's confusion, or the increasing chaos around the precinct, but something in that stew had to be enough cover. However, as they dashed for safety another thought occurred to her. Bringing Ash closer to her face, she whispered in her ear.

"Um, Ash...you do know how to pilot one of these things, right?"

[Kitsanth]

-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Afternoon
Treasure Hold



Zyn was about to respond when it seemed Rikki was interrupted. It was unimportant, but he wondered what sort of an impact the Courier Bot would have on Zyn's life and thus availability for 'a few surveillance gigs'. If it were discarded over an issue Zyn could fix quickly, his horizons were expanded significantly provided Rikki allowed him the freedom. This worried him perhaps significantly less than it arguably should, though the thought was filed somewhere that was easy to retrieve should he need to. Thus far it seemed unlikely and so Zyn retrieved and began to analyze the images of the Courier Bot Rikki had sent him. There was little he could discern from them, however; only that what was visible seemed to be the same as images he'd seen before. More data was required.

Instead he decided to tweak some of the musical ideas he had earlier. He was just experimenting with some rhythms when Rikki asked him a question which seemed to lack context.

[Without further details, I do not know. For one, I cannot taste tea.] Zyn sent back, clearly not entirely seriously. Curiously he adds, [Are you still going to Canasta?]

327 L.E. March 12th
Afternoon
In-Transit

Taking the Tube down to Deck-166 was not comfortable. A confined space full of people, all of whom felt emotions? Rikki push those aside well enough, but being in close proximity to a person for a prolonged period of time... well that inevitably brought with it the indistinct murmurs that were the only remnant of Rikki's telepathic talents. Travel by Tube was convenient enough that it outweighed these downsides. Most of the time anyway.
Fortunately she had something else to focus on: chatting with Zyn about canasta.

'Canasta, two to six players and 110 cards,' Rikki began simply, 'it may sound simple enough and the rules are certainly easy enough to understand. My terminal has a few card games on it, you've probably stumbled across them by now so I wont go into the intricacies of rules and suchlike.'

Currently Rikki was standing - well leaning nonchalantly by the carriage door to be more precise - arms folded, wristcomp™ facing outwards. Seats on the Tube were always too small and it would be just her luck to get hemmed in by some guy who was having a bad day so she always stood close to the exit. And Zyn had been hooked into her recently upgraded device's independent system. The view was probably interesting for him at least. His new perspective was probably providing him with all sorts of data points or something like that.

'What I most enjoy is the challenge,' she continued, 'there's this one guy in the circuit, known as Maybourne AKA The Colonel. His name's an alias but that's all anyone really knows about him. Well that and he's the most talented precog I've ever met. I don't have a strategy that can get him yet but I'm close.
Aside from the competition the other thing I'm there for is the conversation, not the chance to win extra credit. People talk thinking it'll distract their opponents and the things they think are inconsequential... sometimes they really aren't.'

March 12th, Evening;

The following message is sent to Dr. Sandulf's private terminal:

"Dr. Sandulf, we have not yet met but I have seen that we will. I am a Class 4 Psi-User which is how I know that you will soon manifest your own precognitive abilities. In light of this I have decided to extend you an invitation to join the Invitational High-Stakes Gaming League. Aside from the opportunity to win extra rations, the competitive environment has been proven to hone an Esper's talents.
Contact our mutual acquaintance Rikki Lowell for more details.

signed, Maybourne"

ooc: this plot ticket plotted with the agreement of Elemental

[Kasanip]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

"Theo? It looks like they are ignoring you." Yan's stunned surprise was obvious.
Clearly the criminals and the new arrived flying criminal were unable to see the approaching knight walking toward their location. They were ignoring Yan in her vehicle, too.
"Theo? Maybe hit them with the baton? It might wake them up or knock unconsciousness."
However, even if the walking criminals were ignoring Theo's on foot approach, it couldn't be ignored the annoyance of the new voice on the radio. Of course it was the detective. Probably an inappropriate timing, as usual.
"This is Yan from PALADIN. Unauthorized vehicles must be landed immediately." She started curtly. She turned off the radio and sighed. Then the radio talk was continued.
"It looks like some terrorists are sauntering without regard for my senior teammate. You should be able to see the group walking. I don't know how they are planning to escape, however."

[ChronicLunacy]

http://imageshack.com/a/img905/173/7jwXT2.jpg Detective-Inspector Anders Beckett
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Paladin Precinct 326
Noonish

With Yan blocking the hangar door with her patrol cruiser, Beckett parked in a way that made it impossible to get around her, but still possible for her to move if she needed to, and rushed into the hangar on foot. He drew his sidearm as he neared them, staying far enough away that they wouldn't be able to attack him hand to hand before he got several shots off. He approached them from the front while Theo, he assumed, would flank the group. "Officer Corps! All of you get down on the ground and put your hands on your head!" he ordered, raising his plasma pistol. "This is your only warning! On the ground, now!"

[Gengy]

Oliver Ahberon
Floor 3 - Jakarta Conference Room
Early Evening

Ollie found the Conference Room rather easily. All he had to do was look for the weirdly named room on the floor. Nearly every floor had a conference or meeting room - sometimes two or three - and they all seemed to have weird names. Ollie had been told that the names were meant to represent the history of humanity in some way. Names that reminded humans of the places they had come from. Or at least, were supposed to.

...until the damn bucket of broken bolts decided to deny access to any files that came before a certain day! Oliver grumbled privately as he sat down in the Jakarta room at one of the tables. He pulled up his data pad and went through a few Engineering emails - there were a few of them that were actually important - but quickly found himself bored. He began to toy with the idea of building his own 'bot. From his data-pad, he pulled up the last set of schematics.

And then immediately started from scratch. The last set was terrible and clunky and not worth his time. Though the propulsion configuration was pretty slick, and the alliteration module - if Ollie could get it properly coded - would also be nice. The rest of it though, was from an Oliver of four months ago. Which wouldn't do. If Ollie was going to have cutting edge technology, he needed to update everything. So while he waited for everyone else to show up, that's what Ollie did. It was the closest he'd ever been to feeling relaxed in months.

[TheDarkDM]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

Keeping Xartoc between her and the on-foot PALADIN officer, Shelly had almost made it to the gap between the single PALADIN cruiser and the hangar exit before another hovercar came screaming in to block them off. Taken aback, Shelly skidded into a sharp turn towards the PALADIN cruiser and away from the emerging man in the trenchcoat. Breaking into a dead sprint, she spared one last call into the hangar.

"Please, save us Xartoc!"

Before the last syllable had left her mouth, she planted her feet and launched herself over the hovercar, leaving a pair of divots in the precinct roof.

[roll0]

[Tychris1]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

Xartoc looked around as the situation quickly devolved into further pandemonium, the law enforcement agents pressing in from all sides just as his "Damsel in Distress" began to make a break for it. Well, so much for being the big damn hero. Looking around he spotted the shouting Officer Corps member brandishing a plasma pistol and his gut wrenched in panic.

"Oh ****, plasma..... Wait, right, super suit."

Dashing forward perpendicular to Shelly and Ash, Xartoc gunned straight for Detective Becket, armored gauntlets clenched tight as he leap frogged over Yan's hovercar.

"Sir I'm trying to help here! You can't stop the wings of liberty."

[roll0]

[ChronicLunacy]

http://imageshack.com/a/img905/173/7jwXT2.jpg Detective-Inspector Anders Beckett
March 12, 327 Lost Era
Paladin Precinct 326
Noonish

It was probably surprise more than anything that allowed Xartoc past his guard long enough to knock Beckett's gun aside. He recovered quickly enough, however, putting some distance between them in order to better study his strangely dressed opponent.

"Son, you do know that drugs are illegal on this ship?" he frowned. You're assaulting an officer and interfering in a lawful arrest. I'm more interested in the fleeing fugitives right now, but if you make me I will put you down hard. Understand?"

[roll0]

[Kasanip]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

Suddenly the criminals began their escape plan!
Probably it was because the Detective-Inspectre Beckett had suddenly landed and started to make an arrest. To consider the personality of Beckett, it should not be a surprise. However, Yan did not have time to think about that sort of personality examination.
Suddenly one of the criminals was attempting to jump over the car! Yan looked up with shocked expression to see woman's figure to pass over the top of the car.

Humans shouldn't be able to jump so high! Was the surprised thought.
However, such a professional's competitive instinct became to stop that action.
Yan pulled quickly to accelerate the vertical direction and block the jump in the air with the vehicle. Then it was recognized Enigma Girl.
!!!

[roll0] (Agility I + Pilot II + Profession:Paladin)

[A Rainy Knight]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

As Beckett struck a standoff with the power-armored hero, Theo finally finished his lengthy jog and burst onto the scene, drawing his baton with a flourish.

"Sir, I would have you test your 'wings of liberty' against my sword of justice!"

With that, Theo ran toward the strange figure, a grin on his face as he held his baton ready to strike.

[hi-mi-tsu]

March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon
Kira's House



Kira's worry ratcheted higher as her friend simply accepted the hug and let herself be led into the sitting room. That wasn't like Adri at all! Something had to be very wrong. And though she didn't notice the shaking hands, she did see the way the cup in Adri's hand seemed to shiver as she held it.

Very wrong indeed.

And then she started to speak, and it all began to make sense. Kira left her own tea by the table, setting herself down close to her friend on the sofa, just beyond the edge of touching. She wasn't sure exactly where this was going, but...she remembered talks like this after they'd first met, where she had been the one sitting like Adri was, shivering on the outside and far worse further in. And she remembered how she'd often needed touch, someone to just be there as she'd helped her unravel the tangled mess that had been her emotional state then.

The threat of the Novitate did not surprise her, nor his direction of attack against the message that had flooded the ship. Kira had long ago come to the conclusion that he and many like him had trapped themselves in the past, wishing for a time when they had been the undisputed voices who spoke for the Navigator. And though no Coderunner had ever publicly spoken against that ideal, their very existence had steadily shattered the pillars that it rested upon. And she and those like her...they'd only accelerated that process. She wouldn't accept that it was quite their fault, but it had certainly been part of what led to this.

And even if that hadn't been the case, she owed Adri, for everything she'd done for her. So she listened as best she could, then as her friend finished talking she reached out. Her own hand was shivering slightly as she placed it gently on Adri's. It wasn't for any real reason, just to let her know that she was there. At least that's what she told herself - rather sternly in fact.

"I can shift your emergency contact to someone else if you'd like me to. I can lock those out, but it's toeing the line in what I should do as a Coderunner." Normally Kira would be more than willing to bend those rules a little for a friend, but right now...she really shouldn't. Switching the emergency contact would do the job though, and that was a standard procedure. Right now however, yes, there was something else she could do. A few changes to the local 'sphere and...done.

"For now, I've locked her ID out of our local firewall. As you're inside of that on a Datasphere level, it'll prevent connections until you're outside of the house." But with the technical problem resolved - she hoped - things became rather more...messy. Despite how much she listened to Adri when she talked, Kira really didn't know that much of the Cult of the Navigator's politics. She knew that there had now long been a schism brewing, something that her friend had talked about at length on occasion, worrying mostly about the repercussions of such an act. And yet her sitting here shaking - she could feel it now - as she talked about the possibility of it truly happening. It was different. Very different. But then reality catching up to you often was. So she took her time, and tried her best.

"I'm...very sorry, Adri. We're doing what we can to track down the source of that message, but I feel that I can promise you this; it was the work of no Coderunner. We - that is, the Immersives - are taking lead on this, due to...well...many things, but most key among them being that we were the first to see what was happening. And..." she paused, wrestling with herself. Yes, of course she knew the rules. And of course she had to uphold them. But the lines here were difficult. Adrianna was a Novitate-Elect, she had sat on Ship Council meetings, and in that respect she was someone that she could talk to freely. And yet at the same time...she was a Novitate-Elect.

It wasn't that Kira distrusted her friend, far from it. It was simply...where the fruit of that trust might land. The Coderunners were very clear that, on the issue of the Cult, they had no desire to involve themselves in what many believed would be the next-best thing to a religious war. Oh, perhaps she was overdramatic as to exactly what it would be, but it made little difference in many ways. But Adri was also her friend. Didn't she deserve at least what she could give her?

"I worry, Adri." She finished finally. "There are deep currents here, not just with your Order. If my kind did not exist, the Coderunners would still be grasping at straws as to the method of the message's distribution. Thanks to us they are not, yet that we have no been forced to prove that we can see what they cannot...it cannot not raise tensions in some ways. I...say this only because I wish to show I understand, in context. Your situation though is far more strained then our own." She took a sip from her tea, still overly careful from the incident in the morning. "What I have been taught is conflicted on this, for that of me which is only a Coderunner would prefer greatly to be spared the uncertainty of a schism within one of the oldest and still among the most powerful groups upon the Aeternus. And yet that which is me...Adri, I have said many times that my parents taught me to do what I felt was right."

"It was that sentiment that led me to join the investigation that I have talked to you about before. It was that which led me to become your friend in the end, overcoming any fear of friction that it still might cause. But that is not all of me. I am a Coderunner, and Immersive, too. So...I do not know if I can help you." She squeezed her friend's forearm. "But you said you had questions, and as your friend I will do my best to answer them. She almost didn't say her next words, but some part of her that the young woman in front of her had helped unlock overrode her mind. And so she spoke them, with care, and affection.

"Please, ask."


March 12, 327 LE
Early Evening
Various

When the first attack had hit the Datasphere, hijacking every connected device on the ship to spread its message, it had been all but unseen to all except the Immersives within the Substrate before its effect was seen in physical reality. It had been, to use more military terms, a surprise attack against unprepared and soft positions. Here and there particularly swift Coderunners had locked out the foreign commands flooding the system around them, but for the most part it had been a 'Pearl Harbour' - ship slang for a perfect and successful surprise. But when you were fighting a war, you only got one of those.

In the hours since that first attack - and it had been nothing less- the Coderunners had roused to such life that few alive could remember, setting themselves on what could only be called a full war footing. All across the Datasphere they watched now, with a neurosurgeon's concentration. And as the traditional elements secured the local Datasphere, the Immersives of the CAS response team - in fact the majority of their highly skilled number - delved steadily into the hidden datapaths inside the Substrate that had been used to distribute the message and the commands that had forced it to pass. There were few clues beyond those paths, which was a clue in and of itself, yet what was truly important was that the Immersives were there.

So when 'Never Forget' tried to spread its message again, it met far stiffer resistance, from Coderunner groups on far higher alert for interference then they had been a few hours past. On the upper and mid decks, many Fabricators were in fact unaffected by the attempted override, as local Coderunner elements tore the foreign command sequences apart before they could execute. Lines of what was for all intents and purposes Datasphere napalm scoured the fragments of code that remained from existence, burning away any possibility that they would be able to see through whatever task they'd been designed to complete. And on the level between, as the backbone of their organisation hammered flat the second attack on their home, the Immersives were too rewarded by the overconfidence of the mind behind these messages.

Foolish, to think that there would be no response to its first attack.

And as the most skilled among them turned to track the newly traced datapaths, the rest rushed to find a fix to those Fabricators - many the only source of food for their deck area, especially on the lower decks - that had not been protected. There was little they could do to dislodge the viruses without too damaging the hardware to which they were connected, yet there was a way to remove them. Except that the firewalls of the mid-deck Fabs had remained under attack until they were fully disconnected from the Datasphere. It left the Fabbers with access to nothing more than their internal memory, but a choice between networked recipes and none at all was no choice at all. So not only must they remove the viruses, they must ensure that those programs would not be able to find a hold anew. That was possible too...but the method. The Immersives considered for a long moment, then queried their superiors. Technically Lea could authorise it herself, but a second opinion was rarely without use.

The Coderunners considered too, but quickly came to a decision. Given the possibility for chaos in the lower decks, minor damage now would be worth averting the possible destruction. Unpleasant it might be, but the solution was a solution. And that was what they needed right now.

All across the lower decks, the blue-screened Fabricators started going dark, blacking out as overrides disabled their power. Full resets were queued, but these were somewhat different to your normal. Old code, designed in the Blackwar specifically to reset and destructively disable the wireless connection capacity of the system they were loaded on to. Extremely well secured and little talked of code too, for that exact reason. Only the declaration of a Coderunner Authority Situation, or the approval of the Ship Council outside of one, could sanction its use.

The Coderunners passed the reports to the Engineers, making them aware of the Fabricators that were about to go dark in the network, and that they were not to be repaired. A basic explanation was given, with the promise of a further one soonest - given the regularity that the Coderunners and Engineers worked together, it would probably be enough to placate them. Hopefully. Fabricators went down, sparked a few moments, and then came back online steadily, but as people approached them again they found a sadly reduced menu available. Only locally stored recipes remained. For some, those who kept hard storage of favourites to carry with them, this wasn't so bad. They could still upload through the hardport. Anything else was lost, or unable to be uploaded.

Screens near the Fabs lit up with new messages to explain, citing the newly declared Coderunner Authority Situation and stating that all non-secured Fabricators had been reset to defaults to purge the foreign command protocols. Hardport uploads would function, wireless connection was no longer possible. If repaired, the connection would allow those foreign commands to disable the Fabricator again. Further announcements would come as the situation changed. Added was a contact line, a dedicated address for situations such as this, with a call for any who had knowledge of the event's mechanics to come forward.

The Coderunners succeed in throwing back the second wave attack by 'Never Forget', jamming the commands of the systems on a local level and using CAS destructive reboot programs to purge them from the affected Fabricators - the vast majority of them - and prevent any further commands from being passed to them through the Datasphere. Although their menu may now be somewhat bland, the Fabricators will function again.



March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon
Kira's House

When Kira blocked her mother's ID, the Novitate-Elect relaxed visibly. The incessant flashing of her mother's messages had gotten incredibly irritating, and now that she could turn them off, it was easier to focus. Easier to be in the now, with Kira, and not thinking about every single way something had gone wrong in the meeting that had just occurred.

"This little...event, whatever it is, forced one of the other Novitate-Elects to show his hand." Adriana exhaled, slowly. Calming breathing. They learned it at school, of course. It was part of meditation, of prayer. Calming yourself, letting whatever message the Navigator might have for you come...

"So now the Novitate knows, for certain, that it isn't just the young ones who are part of this New Order. Now he knows, for certain, that at least one of the older, more 'respectable' people - someone he thought was firmly in his corner - is also part of the New Order. And I am not sure what that will mean, or what the repercussions will be for it." A sip of tea, and then another.

"It may force my hand - our hand. But I don't want it to, because I think this...whatever it is that you guys are dealing with, this is the real problem. Someone was able to screw with systems on a ship-wide level, public and private, and I just...I want to think about that for a while, instead of this. You said Damien was coming? He's coming to talk about that, right...? So...can I stay? Can I help, somehow?"

[Rain Dragon]

327 L.E. March 12th
Afternoon
In-Transit

Taking the Tube down to Deck-166 was not comfortable. A confined space full of people, all of whom felt emotions? Rikki push those aside well enough, but being in close proximity to a person for a prolonged period of time... well that inevitably brought with it the indistinct murmurs that were the only remnant of Rikki's telepathic talents. Travel by Tube was convenient enough that it outweighed these downsides. Most of the time anyway.
Fortunately she had something else to focus on: chatting with Zyn about canasta.

'Canasta, two to six players and 110 cards,' Rikki began simply, 'it may sound simple enough and the rules are certainly easy enough to understand. My terminal has a few card games on it, you've probably stumbled across them by now so I wont go into the intricacies of rules and suchlike.'

Currently Rikki was standing - well leaning nonchalantly by the carriage door to be more precise - arms folded, wristcomp™ facing outwards. Seats on the Tube were always too small and it would be just her luck to get hemmed in by some guy who was having a bad day so she always stood close to the exit. And Zyn had been hooked into her recently upgraded device's independent system. The view was probably interesting for him at least. His new perspective was probably providing him with all sorts of data points or something like that.

'What I most enjoy is the challenge,' she continued, 'there's this one guy in the circuit, known as Maybourne AKA The Colonel. His name's an alias but that's all anyone really knows about him. Well that and he's the most talented precog I've ever met. I don't have a strategy that can get him yet but I'm close.
Aside from the competition the other thing I'm there for is the conversation, not the chance to win extra credit. People talk thinking it'll distract their opponents and the things they think are inconsequential... sometimes they really aren't.'


-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Afternoon
Tube to Deck-166



Only the bare minimum of Zyn's processes were paying attention to anything Rikki was saying, easily dismissing redundant data that he'd already picked up or could figure out himself. He was a little disappointed that she wasn't expanding on the rules, but let her speak as he amused himself with something that's second nature to most. He could now choose where he could see and hear well... Hearing was a little different, as audio function is not too different in the CMA but he had to hear as Rikki hears and never received any data she wasn't paying attention to. So in a way, he could also choose what he could hear as well if he wanted or even better just listen to nothing in particular at all. That was not even mentioning various other minor sensors and services most would take for granted of a WristcompTM. Then he discovered he could zoom and it became very difficult to concentrate on Rikki's words.

Trying his best to seem a little less rude, Zyn quickly drew a picture of a well lit table with six shadowy figures around it with a set of playing cards quite similar to the ones Rikki liked to use with the games on her terminal. Whether this confirms her suspicion or not, Zyn had never actually opened the Canasta program before though if one were to look through things alphabetically it would be one of the first. Instead he'd looked at things he felt he was allowed to that were most interesting to him first. Whist as a word is rather appealing and so he'd spent some time analyzing and playing it. The sketch had finished and sat forgotten on the WristcompTM as Zyn quickly zoomed out from where he was looking. I hope they didn't notice. he thought to himself as he purged the image quickly. It didn't really occur to him that there was little way for most people to notice him see something he perhaps shouldn't have.

Then he overheard a small group talking quite loudly. Surely if that were private, they wouldn't be so noisy? They were discussing hunting down the blueprints the couple who'd left the Courier Bot in the Treasure Hold had mentioned. So, it wasn't just them... Um? Zyn thought to himself. He quickly swept the sketch to one side and wrote a message to Rikki, | Did you hear of the blueprints so many people are talking about? It seems odd. First the pair in the Treasure Hold and now these noisy children. |

[Jade_Tarem]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Slightly After Noon

"Officer Corps! All of you get down on the ground and put your hands on your head! This is your only warning! On the ground, now!"

As Xartoc began his antics, Ash tried to assess the new arrival. "You're in the wrong genrAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" The psychic was interrupted by Shelly grabbing her - they really needed to work out a better group transportation dynamic - and making a mad dash for it. In the jolting backwards run/drag that she was forced into, Ash saw the other PALADIN officer that had been creeping up behind them, and saw "Xartoc" begin to engage the two of them - well, he waved his arms and shouted a bunch of comic book words, which was sort of like engaging them.

Her scream started fairly inarticulate, and would have become more so as the taller woman vaulted the Navi's cruiser entirely, but at about that point Ash ran out of breath. The con woman bounced to a stop, pulse pounding, right in front of Spectre's chosen method for their escape - a two-seater PALADIN squad hover bike. With a long and enhanced set of directional vanes attached to graceful control spars and an aerodynamic, white-and-gold body, it brought to mind the image of a crouching feline predator. Like the legendary pumas or chupacabras of Earth Lost! It was sexy, there was no denying that, but Ash knew getting out would be a pain for Spectre himself. "If you’re still here, you're a good, invisible man, Spec. I'll see you around."

"Please just hold them off, Mister Xartoc! You don't know what they'll do to us if they catch us."

Ash ignored Shelly's attempts to exhort the crazy man to do more for them, instead looking under the engine cover for the standard tracking device.

"Um, Ash...you do know how to pilot one of these things, right?"

The psychic straightened as she found that Specter had already disabled it, turning to her new compatriot. "Shelly, I don't know if you've noticed this yet, but I have basically two skills: getting into people's heads, and telling them what they want to hear. So yes, I am an amazing pilot."

"Oh, good," Shelly chirped with a beatific, innocent smile. "I was worried for a moment."

The pair jumped on the hover bike, with Shelly hanging on to Ash and Ash herself gripping the unfamiliar controls. The psychic could sense - and see - that Precinct 326 was beginning to wake up, officers filling the hangar and heading for vehicles, and knew she needed to slow them down. She lifted her purloined PALADIN electric weapon and took aim at the unoccupied, drifting cruiser. The derelict hovercraft was still blaring out popular songs from the 1990’s, and a man apparently named Hammer-Go-Hammer-MC-Hammer-Yo-Hammer patiently explained to her that she could not touch this, though it was unclear if the no touching rule was 24/7 or only applied during ‘Hammer Time.’ Either way, Ash set out to prove him wrong and opened fire on the cruiser’s repulsor coils.

The result was less stellar than she’d hoped. Instead of disabling the coils, dropping the cruiser on top of the Navi woman’s hood and the passenger compartment of the plasma-pistol wielding detective’s abandoned car, the shot bounced off a bit of the chassis and struck the stabilizer instead. The cruiser entered a flat spin as the computer lost track of its orientation and crashed into the precinct office itself. Shelly cried out and the psychic winced sympathetically, but sighed in relief when she didn’t sense any new pain or the sudden cessation of life from within. It belatedly occurred to her that Shelly could probably have made the desired shot, but it was too late to try that now. At least it crumpled the hangar doors - and had apparently started a small fire - but the cruisers outside the precinct and on the roof could still chase them.

It did make their current situation more pressing, though. She holstered the weapon, gripped the controls and roared off (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RKmw9oS__MM) as Xartoc yelled something about wings of liberty. Almost immediately, Ash jerked the bike to one side as she blasted through an intersection and was nearly run down by a massive cargo truck, floating murderously along on its merry way. She felt Shelly's grip on her middle tighten.

"Are you sure this thing is safe?" The tall woman shouted over the roaring artificial wind.

The psychic twisted a bit to shout back. "Statistically speaking? It's the single most dangerous form of travel on the Aeternus." Shelly increased the pressure on Ash's midsection. "Seriously? You punched through half of PALADIN and this scares you?"

"People don't zoom at you at a hundred kilometers per hour!"

"Oh, we are going way faster than a hundred kilometers per hour! If they caught us we'd be under arrest for reckless endangerment. You know, if we weren't under arrest for all that other stuff we did."

Shelly responded by gripping tighter.

Pursuit

Yan's expression, as usual, was troubled. It was warranted - a lot of troubling developments had piled up in a very short time. The Enigma Girl had shown up at Precinct 326 with a dangerous criminal, been detained, then everyone had escaped and things had gone straight to hell. Now she was pursuing the fugitives, and was apparently doing it alone. Where were the PALADIN officers from 326? They couldn't have all been disabled.

The Navi shook her head to clear her thoughts and called up the vehicle's command console window. The Aeternus navigational map display blazed at the corner of her vision, the hologram twisting and gyrating to keep up with her maneuvers. Vehicles were moving out of the way of the oncoming PALADIN cruiser, but not fast enough - the fleeing psychic and the Enigma Girl would find a way to fall off the Aeternus's internal surveillance before she caught up to them at this rate. Yan entered the override password to call up the advanced control suite for the cruiser. The Model 50 Stardancer that the PALADIN cruisers were based on was more vehicle than most pilots could handle. As a result, PALADIN dumbed down the control scheme and programmed the primary cruiser AI to disallow actions that were likely to result in losing control of the craft. The hovercraft were still more than capable of chasing down nearly anything on the ship's major thoroughfares, but sometimes more was needed - and for that, you needed a better pilot.

The controls unfolded before the Navi as additional holographic displays sprang up. The craft immediately felt more alive to the officer, and she put on a burst of speed, beginning to weave between automated transports, taking care to stay farther away from passenger vehicles. Her rate of gain on the fleeing criminals picked up, but the chase promised to be tricky - apparently the Puppeteer was an above average pilot herself...

Flight

The psychic barely avoided hurtling into another oncoming vehicle as she dipped too low into a dive. "You lied to me, Ash! You are not a good pilot!"

"I did! I lie all the time. It makes life easier."

"I was starting to like you, Ash! Now I'm not so sure!"

"Welcome to the Aeternus!" The hoverbike took a sharp swerve into one of the ship's main vehicular transport arteries. From the inside it was a galaxy of its own, a seemingly endless three-dimensional labyrinth of cylindrical tubes intersecting again and again, the gunmetal gray backdrop studded with the lights of hundreds of thousands of doors, passages, advertisements, informational signs, "road" signs, and of course, the swarms of vehicles following the assigned lanes from one end of the ship to the other. Unlike what had been shown in a thousand sci-fi movies of the early 21st century, there was not a lot of free space - hence the need for lanes. The tubes were that big because they needed to be that big, the volume of traffic was just that high.

And that was a problem. Ash struggled to keep the hoverbike moving at speed through the increasingly dense tangle of flying objects, waypoints, buoys, and who knew what else. "Truck!"

"I see it!"

"Truck!"

"I see it!"

The con woman snarled and bounced above the densest knot of vehicles, effectively (and illegally) riding "between" lanes. She let out a held breath, and turned to s- "Truck!"

"Christ, again?" Ash dove back into the lane, forced to slow to avoid pancaking the pair of them against the back of a passenger bus floating lazily along. "Arrrgh! Why is there so much traffic?"

"Why is there so much traffic?" Shelly parroted back to her, dully. It took Ash a moment to realize that she had let her frustration slip out through her telepathic shell, but she had no time to worry about that. Hopefully nobody would be too affected.

Nearby

"Why is there so much traffic?" It occurred to Jared Miller, delivery robot maintenance man, that he'd wasted entirely too much of his life stuck in traffic. Maybe everyone had. There had to be a more efficient way to travel - and a better way to live. He turned to his partner, Jessie Simmons... a smallish woman who'd been his partner for close to three years now, and he'd grown a little fonder of her each day, despite her general oddness. He'd tried working up the nerve to ask her out before, but-

"That's deep, man." She said, taking a deep breath. "Like... whoa."

"You wanna get some coffee later?" He finally blurted out.

She smiled at him. "Life's too short. Let's make this a thing."

Pursuit

Why is there so much traffic? Yan danced her cruiser through wave after endless wave of obstacles.

"Detective Beckett in pursuit." The voice crackled over the internal comm - still called the radio out of archaic tradition, of course. Yan's frown deepend. "All unauthorized vehicles must-"

"Save it, Amelia Earhart. 326 is useless and your backup isn't coming."

"On the contrary!" A new voice boomed out. "I'm on my way, Yan. I took a moment to shoot off a grounding request for all the vehicles in the sector. I’m doing the approval dance now."

Yan finally grinned as she wove gracefully between a pair of multi-decaton haulers, but Beckett wasn't finished. "How the hell did you get out of the hangar?"

"That's not nearly as interesting as how I got past the fire-"

"Both of you," Yan interrupted - the criminals had finally come into view between flashes of traffic. "Take the auxiliary access routes, ventral side, port and starboard. The escapees are on a more maneuverable vehicle so we have to herd them."

"Understood!"

"Got it. Don't underestimate them again, these two are dangerous." A blaring sound came over the radio. “Rudest drivers in the galaxy…”

Theo’s voice suddenly crackled, “Why is there so much traffic?”

“Tell me about it. It felt like it took weeks just to get to the precinct-”

“Focus!” Yan shifted her attention back to closing the gap...

Flight

"Shelly! I need to breathe!" The taller woman's grip had tightened enough to reduce Ash to wheezing.

"Not all the time!"

Despite that, her squeeze slackened enough to allow some semblance of normal respiration. "Look, if you can't control your emotions the normal way, then distract yourself!"

"Um... okay. How are we not dead yet? You clearly don't know what you're doing."

"Jedi Reflexes."

"...I'm sorry, what?"

"It's... I'll show you Star Wars later. Ancient film, but people still quote it a lot." Ash eased off the throttle to avoid providing an alternate answer to Shelly's inquiry. "Next question."

"Alright... who was that man in the power armor?"

Ash grinned despite herself. "What, Xartoc?"

"What's a Xartoc?"

"Xartoc was an action-adventure movie released... damn, has it been eight years already? It was a big hit, and half the girls in my high school class subconsciously lost their virginity to the lead actor. Anyway, that was a pretty good impersonator. He sounded exactly like the guy... only more hungover, I guess. Xartoc was all about the-"

"Pursuit!"

"...what? No, it was PROWESS! Hi-ya!"

"No, we have pursuit!" Ash followed Shelly's tug on her shoulder and pointing finger... and swore exceptionally harshly. Sure enough, a PALADIN cruiser was bearing down on them, making headway despite having to find larger gaps in traffic, slipping through impossibly tight spaces like some kind of stunt pilot was at the controls.

"What does that word mean?"

"I'll tell you when you're older." The psi-user pushed the throttle again, feeling Shelly's grip on her middle tighten in response. "Truck!"

"Your eyes aren't even open!"

"Am I wrong?"

"I don't see how that's relevant!" Ash wove between five, six, seven barricades, lane changes, and hovercraft, and growled as the mad cruiser shot between them even faster. Shelly cracked one eye open to watch their hunter. "She's gaining on us in that thing! That's kind of ironic."

"No, what's ironic is that we're escaping from the law on a PALADIN hover-bike." Ash's language teacher had beaten this into her brain. Even now, in a life or death struggle, the lesson came readily back to mind. "The fact that she's gaining on us in an armored cruiser is unironically terrifying." The skies suddenly cleared of traffic. For one moment, Ash rejoiced before reality hit. "Oh crap."

"What?"

"They got a grounding order through. There's nothing to stop them from just running us down, now!"

Shelly became unnervingly quiet for a moment - much like she had been before the fiasco in the Treasure Hold that started them on this path. Then she spoke as though reading from a manual. "Aeternus grounding orders follow a deck-sequencing pattern to avoid dangerous and disruptive interruption in the flow of traffic between decks. This pattern begins on the top deck in the sector and follows a merge sorting algorithm with weighted access being the sorting key."

"Merge Sort..." Perhaps ironically, the information that might save her life did not come back to her as readily as the lesson on irony. Her programming teacher had been less... intense.

"The Traffic Control AI already has a list of decks in order of most congested to least. It then takes PALADIN's data and uses it to sort that list into a new list, and then shuts down the most likely escape deck, followed by the next most likely, and so on. Eventually, they'll have grounded every deck with the least amount of inconvenience to the commuters and the most inconvenience to us."

"Rude."

"Just dive, Ash. It doesn't matter which deck you're on as long as you change it rapidly."

The psychic took the advice and dove, the cruiser hot on her tail...

Pursuit

"...in the pursuit. Suspects have stolen a PALADIN hover-cycle and disabled the transponder on it. Currently aft-bound and down." The advisory was running on several PALADIN channels now. Precincts 401 and 399 had mobilized - before 326, no less, despite being informed of the issue much later - and had sent their support on up ahead. Precinct 404 was nowhere to be found, but the other two could provide more than enough resources for the trap, provided that Yan could stay with the smaller, more nimble hover-bike as it threaded its way through the increasing chaos. It was working... so far.

That was the hardest part about high-speed chases. The duty of a PALADIN officer at all times was to protect and serve all of the citizens of the Aeternus, and that included assessing whether or not continuing a pursuit put those citizens in more danger than letting the criminals escape. If not for the very serious charges surrounding the drive core - and their spectacular and embarrassing escape from Precinct 326 - Yan suspected that she would have been called off a dozen times over already. Instead...

"...All units, be advised. The use of excessive force in the apprehension of the Puppeteer and Enigma Girl has been approved."

Flight - about 3 minutes later

"Well this just seems excessive."

The hover-bike now sat relatively still, idling in small circles in the middle of the giant intersection. A number of squad cars had shown up seemingly out of thin air - PALADIN's first truly coordinated response - and had cut off three of four available directions. The last one was running civilian traffic at a high speed in several directions, all of it perpendicular to any potential approach to it from Ash and Shelly's position - from their perspective, it was nothing more than a whirling, brightly-colored wall of metal and death.

It had been a tense three minutes. The psychic had done the best she could to avoid falling into this kind of situation, but the Navi crazy woman in the cruiser had cut off the better avenues of escape and very proficiently bullied them down here. Now, she had rejoined her partners at the edge of one of the cordons. Ash wondered why they hadn't just swarmed her already, and then she laughed as it hit her - from PALADIN’s perspective, they weren’t looking at two terrified, tired, and confused women on a hover-bike. They were in a standoff with the infamous Puppeteer and the Blood-Spattered Enigma Girl. She doubted the officers were truly afraid of them - not with this kind of numbers disparity - but they were showing respect.

And she hated to disappoint.

"Ash? How do your... Jedi Reflexes work? Can we fight through them?"

"I understand what will happen before it actually does. I just... sort of know how a course of action will turn out. Usually in time to try something else."

"Oh. Wow.So... what happens next?"

The psychic snorted. "We escape. And then we quote Star Wars."

Shelly blinked at that. "...are you serious?"

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"Yes. Repeatedly. From literally the minute we met."

"Exactly." Ash twisted around to look Shelly in the eye. It was quite a sight - the flashing lights of dozens of cruisers strobing through the psychic's hair and flickering across her face, all against a backdrop of the dancing, glowing squad cars and emergency lighting. "You can't trust what people say, Shelly. You can't trust what they do, or the laws they make, or even what they think - I know better than most how fast minds can change. What you trust are interests, friends, and facts. I have an interest in getting my friend - that's you - to safety. And it's a fact that for all my little crimes, my apparent carelessness, and how poorly you'd think those two go together, I haven't been caught yet. And the reason for that is why you won't be either."

"..."

The psychic flipped the switch for the PALADIN bike's on-board radio and switched to a slightly huskier, more seductive tone - image was everything. "This is the Puppeteer. I stand by what I said before. I don't have your drive core. I am not a terrorist. And I hope you're watching closely." She flipped it off before they could respond. She wasn't interested in a legal debate, she just wanted to get the last word in - they'd been shouting something about putting her hands up on her head, or behind her back, or on the wall, or in and out of various places like some kind of Hokey-Pokey Tourettes for much of her adult life. It was only fair. Then she planted her hands firmly on the controls and gunned it straight toward the whirling traffic wall.

Shelly shrieked and reprised her rib-crushing performance. "Truck! Many Trucks! Possibly dozens of assorted vehicles!"

"I have *accounted* for the trucks! F*** the trucks!"

There was a heartbeat of tense relative quiet, with only the roaring of the wind and the still-active sirens of the PALADIN vehicles as the bike accelerated. That heartbeat stretched to two, then three, then, Shelly cracked an eye open again. "...was that the Star Wars quote?"

Pursuit

Yan's frown returned as Eigan and the Enigma girl dashed for the dangerous intersection. Even that little bike couldn't get through, but she still didn't like the look of it.

Some of her peers had their own reasons for disliking it. It had finally dampened Theo's spirits, for one. "Suicide by cop is an ugly business."

"Saves us a trial, though." Others, not so much.

Yan continued to metaphorically chew on the idea. Ash had shown little skill with piloting, but incredible luck. Too much luck, really - and they called her... the Puppeteer... "It's a trick!" The sector commander's bark carried over every comm in the area. "Open fire!"

Flight

The intersection was not as monolithic as it appeared at a distance - quite the contrary, up close it looked more like the mouth of some mythical beast with a million metal teeth, a giant blender for the tiny wad of flesh, steel, and ceramics hurtling at it the wrong way. A half-memory came to Ash that falling into water fast enough was much like hitting a stone surface, and it appeared to be the same here. It was like some ridiculous old-timey children's video game - whatever it was called with the frog on the highway, but played to the death. So as the air around them filled with electric weapons fire and a few choice plasma blasts, Ash did what she did best, and cheated.

She stretched her senses out to the oncoming vehicles. Some were cold, dead spots - robots, too far below the true AI threshold for consciousness. More ranged from lukewarm to blazing hot, and all of these were minds she could touch. Beautiful and ugly, strong and fragile, fast and slow, it didn't matter - she connected with all of them and rammed the same simple thought into each one.

Stop.

A wave rippled down the streams of vehicles as on-board AIs worked with human and robot reflexes alike to avoid accidents. Emergency lane shifts were made, overrides were processed, and above all else, brake thrusters were applied. The thought only lasted a moment, but it was enough. The seemingly fixed curtain of whirling cars, trucks, bikes, haulers, and even a mobile suit or two opened up and the PALADIN bike shot through in those scant seconds. Then the knot of congested, confused traffic drifted into the intersection, clogging it thoroughly as vehicles of all types struggled to get back on course or were cut off - and blocking off PALADIN in the process.

Out the other side, Shelly shrieked with laughter. "I made up my mind, Ash! I love you!"

"I know." The psychic grinned and flipped the bike down the route that would take it into the lower decks she'd been trying to reach - away from the Aeternus's reliable surveillance.

Somewhere in the Lower Decks
Some time later

The bike’s battery had given out, but they were finally clear - at least for the moment. If she was being 100% honest, which she wasn’t, Ash had no clue exactly where they were. It wasn’t exactly a dark sector, but it wasn’t a whole lot better.

On the other hand, they owned this particular alley - the various toughs had started to move on them immediately, and then had just as quickly backed down when Shelly had begun to stress-test the nearby bulkheads with the nearby bulks’ heads. With her percussive therapy credentials thoroughly established, Shelly and Ash were able to answer the more important question of where to go from here.

"Do you have a plan for tracking down that drive core?"

"I have an outline of a plan. But I'm too tired to think of much right now. I'd say I'm surprised that you aren't, but..." The psychic gestured at the taller woman, and when Shelly gave her a puzzled frown, Ash tapped her shoulder. Shelly took a look at her own, and just stared, horror and shock tinging her expression.

The flesh had been burned away - she thought she'd felt something during that last barrage, but had shrugged it off - she'd had other concerns at the time. Now, though, she could see the damage. Skin had bubbled and peeled away, revealing a strange red fluid that only somewhat resembled what she recalled of blood. Brushing it away revealed what would probably, if cleaned off, look like ropy, glossy-black cables that contracted when she lifted her arm to look and stretched back out when she lowered it, like some kind of ebony synthetic muscle.

"No..." Shelly shook her head. "That's insane. I eat, I sleep..."

"You ninja jump. You punch through bulkheads." Ash leaned against the wall propping one foot up against it and crossing her arms. "But hey, I sense a full intelligence when I get a read on you with my powers. Maybe it's just the arm. And even if it isn't, well, there are worse things to be than a true AI."

"...is that so? Or are you just telling me what I want to hear?"

"Can't it be both?" Ash shrugged out of her ruined jacket and tore the other sleeve off. That left her in slacks, boots, a classy blouse, and a vest; she would still have looked good if most of it wasn't drenched with sweat or stained with oil and soot. As it was, it stood as a ludicrous reminder of how the galaxy's easiest con had started. "Bind it with that until we figure out what to do about it."

"So you were serious about the friend thing."

"I was." Ash sighed, still against the wall. "Shelly, most people look at me and they just see a news reel or a mug shot. They look at my record and just see Class 5 Psychic #2020. The Puppeteer, Cat 5, Phreak, Problem Student... I haven't just been Ash Eigan since I was sixteen years old. But you've seen the whole charade and what lies behind it now, and you're still here."

"Interests, friends, and facts?"

"Exactly. I learned a long time ago that when things get really bad and you look around for support, your real friends aren't whoever is right. They're whoever is left."

"It makes sense to me." Shelly paused. "So... do we shake hands, or?"

The tall woman found herself impacted by a psychic and swept into a hug. For one blistering moment, she was aware of a horrid little black hole of loneliness starting to break up as relief surged through it. Like blood entering a sleeping lib, it actually hurt a bit. Shelly returned the hug with the same bone-crushing force from before, which Ash felt not at all. Finally, Shelly coughed. "You said you had a plan."

"An outline, but it's going to have to be put on hold until I show you a bunch of stuff. Starting with Xartoc. You can't pass for human if you miss every pop culture reference from the last 40 years."

"You're kind of a dork, aren't you?"

You've figured me out. But I'll corrupt you soon enough, bad girl.

A sigh escaped. "The voice in my head will take some getting used to."

Ash pulled away and planted her hands on her hips. "But in the meantime, we have to lay low. This shouldn't be that much of a problem. I mean, we both have the potential to be sneaky, even if we're not Spectre..."

Precinct 326 - Hangar

Sirens blared and emergency vehicles shot past the partially ruined door. "Have they got that fire under control yet?"

Alley

"...and we tore out of that PALADIN office without killing anyone! Hell, I doubt anyone was even seriously inconvenienced."

Precinct 326 - Holding Cell 11D

"Hello? Is anyone out there? It's dark in here. And a little cold." A pause. "I'm getting hungry. Did anyone see where my Cup o' Noodles went?" Another pause. "Is this because I forgot about Jill's birthday party?"

Alley

"And of course, once they figure out that I didn't steal the drive core, they'll probably calm down. They're professionals, it's not like they're going to take it personally."

Precinct 326 - Booking Office

Dave kept his arm around his Navi companion's shoulder as she sniffled softly. "Wow, Jill, I am so sorry about your birthday. I just don't think anyone was anticipating a super-powered jailbreak ruining it."

Jill blew her nose into the proffered handkerchief. "I just can't believe this is the third time."

Alley

"They'll probably give that one Navi pilot a medal... though I do wonder what's going to happen to the precinct captain."

Precinct 326 - Locker Room 2

Captain Higgins shut off the shower and started to dry himself off. He didn't bother looking long into the mirror - he knew he didn't cut much of a figure anymore. Middle age had brought with it a rapidly receding hairline and a gut, and both of those problems were probably only going to get worse from the pressures of his job. He'd had a number of issues waiting for him when he came in this morning: that loose-cannon rookie had been paired up with McCullins, who was about three seconds from retirement. The district attourney was on his back about the Puppeteer. And he still hadn't picked out a gift for Jill's birthday. He'd ordered that little cake and a huge cooler of juice for the party, but the clumsy delivery bot had dumped the latter all over him, sending him to the showers to scrub the sticky stuff off.

But not before the late morning had conspired to make his day. The Puppeteer - the Puppeteer - had been caught, and right in the middle of the highest-profile job she'd pulled yet. Plus the Enigma Girl had been brought in as a bonus. He'd spent most of his time in the shower mulling over what he'd say at the press release that had been called for that afternoon. He thought he had a few good puns lined up, and the facts he'd have to double check and write down, or the ANE analysts would skewer him later, but he was actually looking forward to this one.

He finished drying and wrapped the towel around himself. He knew something was wrong the moment he stepped into the Locker Room proper - the showers were, he knew, soundproofed to a certain extent, but he failed to see how he could have missed this. A hovercraft was sitting in the middle of the room, occasionally throwing out a shower of sparks from somewhere near the back. The front of it sank into the floor and had crushed down on the hangar door motors from what he could see of it. Despite the damage, the radio was still going strong with the immortal words of one of Lost Earth's long lost pop stars.

"~Oh baby baby, how was I supposed to knoooowww.../that something wasn't right here?~"

How it had made it into the room was patently obvious. As he strode up to the massive hole in the wall, it revealed a panorama that wouldn't look out of place in a disaster movie. As far as he could recall, the district boasted 10 fire suppression craft and 24 police cruisers, with a rotating number of ambulance craft. He was surprised, then, to see 15 fire suppression craft and 35 police cruisers, plus ambulances, onlookers, and several ANE broadcast vans. It was clear that a fire had once burned merrily in the hangar below, and it was here that Higgins could see the firefighters directing their attention.

"~Oh baby baby, I shouldn't have let you goooooooOOOoOooh.../and now you're out of sight, yeah.~"

The captain stared in disbelief as some of the emergency personnel outside shouted for him to get away from the hangar and a loud, obnoxious intrepid reporter shouted into her microphone over the din about a spectacular escape effort. "What. The. F-"

Alley

"So what I'm saying is that we're basically like ninjas. We've got this."

Shelly folded her arms across her chest, heedless of the artificial bit sticking out from her shoulder for the moment. "Do you actually believe a word of anything you just said?"

"Not even a little bit!"

[Tychris1]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
PALADIN Precinct 326
Noon

Xartoc was rather offended at the notion that he was high off of drugs during this fight. Alright so maybe the logical assumption for some guy in Power Armor dive bombing into a precinct while shouting movie quotes and one liners would be that he's either insane or tripping hard, but that didn't make it less insulting. Why exactly do ordinary citizens need to be high in order to stand for their freedoms, their liberties, their rights! Clenching his fists, Xartoc slowly advanced towards the now disarmed Detective.

"I can assure you that narcotics can't obfuscate the piercing gaze of Lady Liberty! And considering you have no weapon, I'd act-"

Suddenly Xartoc was interrupted by another PALADIN armed with a baton and a chivalric slant. The odds were most certainly not in his favor, outnumbered, less trained, and soon to be thwacked by the impending bludgeon. Splitting his stance between the two of them, Xartoc began to slowly back away, edging himself bit by bit as Shelly and Ash made for their exit. A small fire was starting in the background, tensions were growing higher and all the while a classic hit from Lost Earth played melodically in the background. Xartoc's incomprehensible HUD began to act sporadically, images popping up and disappearing, strange targetting reticules aiming themselves over the law enforcement agents and benign pieces of scenery.

"Sir I wouldn't recommend that, just back away and settle down, we can-"

Reality began to hit Wilbert like a sac of hammers, there was no way he was going to be able to get out of this either alive or with his conscience intact. No matter what he said the two of them refused to listen, frustration mounted in his temples, sweat and claustrophobia intermingling to blur his vision. He was a criminal, well more of a criminal then he already was when he commited regular vigilantism, and he was probably going to be on wanted posters throughout the Aeternus. If they ever found out his true identity, he'd be destroyed, imprisoned within a tiny dark cell for decades to come. No doubt he'd also be experimented on thoroughly due to his interaction with his costume. Gritting his teeth, he backed away more rapidly now. As if in a cruel sense of humor the radio continued to play it's catchy and jaunty tune.

"Break it down."
"STOP!"

Xartoc slammed his fist down on the ground, denting the metal underneath him with a superpowered punch that reverberated all around him and resomated with a headshaking gong. Closing his eyes to clear the sweat, he impulsively pushed the least threatening button on the screen, and suddenly an explosion of light surrounded him.

"Hammer Time!"

Xartoc felt himself get swooped off his feet as the explosion of light dissipitated, and he soon realized why exactly he felt that way. Extending forth from his back were two great wing like structures, several solid blocks of light floating in a pattern that represented a birds skeleton. The tips of each of them were carved slightly with moderate curves and indentations, more of the strange unreadable writing from his suit carved upon their luminescent forms. Xartoc was floating on a slope as two of the blocks from each side extended out corruscating scouring beams. The first few seconds of it were filled with divine awe and breathtaking majesty, but soon they were replaced with weightless terror and confusion.

Wilbert had flown hover vehicles in his past, they weren't exactly easy but he wasn't a bad driver and he could get a good control of it. In the movies of yore, the hero blessed with flight made defying gravity an attainable and believable goal for any shmuck down on his luck. What they never tell you is that it feels like you're coordinating two different yo-yo's hooked up to a ragdoll while the whole world is wobbles and shifts around you. Xartoc started to dip and flail about, his arms lashing wildly as he tried to stabilize himself. His body twisted and contorted wildly from his flight based misadventures, the Detective and PALADIN officer watching in a mixture of disbelief and shock. Thrusting forward, Xartoc twisted about and slapped his wing at Theo, throwing the futuristic Knight of the Law into the now slightly burning hangar. The previous brevy of icons, beeps, and flashing signs was now replaced with a torrent of unreadable garbled paragraphs assaulting his face now that he was airborne. Swatting at his face in vain to clear the screen, Xartoc swiveled and jerked about some more before he started to rapidly thrust forward and away from the Detective. The last thing he saw of the Precinct however, crushed his soul almost entirely. Xartoc's initial instinct was correct in assuming that the propulsion beams fired from his blocky wings were volatile and dangerous. All 6 blocks from each wing shot in horrifying coordination towards the precinct and engorged the flames. What was at worse a small kitchen fire was now turned into a blazing inferno.

And he had just thrown a man straight into it.

A completely innocent bystander.

Flying away, Xartoc propelled himself with greater and greater velocity, his wings beams trailing behind him briefly before dissipatating into a scintillating haze of sparkles. Flying himself into a secluded and abandoned hovercar repair shop roof, Xartoc fell to the ground with a thud, and with it he banished his new found wings.

Rapidly he crawled himself into a corner, curled himself up into the fetal position, and he wept. He bawled like a newborn child, sniveling and grabbing at his head all the whilst rocking frantically back and forth. His grip grew so tight that he could almost feel his head being saueezed through his helmet. Screaming in abject torment he ripped his helmet free and threw it on the ground. The floor was more damaged then his actual suit as it bounced violently away from it before settling itself against the wall. Through tear stained eyes he could see his reflection in the glass of his helmet, eliciting a hollow and pain ridden laugh, a laugh of self ridicule and complete hopelessness.

"This is all your fault!"

"My fault? You're the one who's really driving, I'm just the mask remember?"

"Don't feed me that bulls*** if I never let you in this wouldn't have happened!"

"We've helped a lot of good people, we've stopped a lot of bad people. We have the strength to bring justice to our wife when no one else would, when no else could!"

"I'm not a killer dammit!"

"Many must die for the one who should not have perished, we can't stop now. If we do how are we any better then those monsters?"

"I'm not any better then them! I killed an innocent man, dear god I killed him in cold blood and it's all my fault. I'm a murdering criminal implicated with helping a master thief break out of jail. Oh god oh man oh god-"

"Snap out of it! Innocent until proven guilty right? You want to be the big damn hero? Focus, help her prove her innocence, and redeem yourself. Come on Wilbert don't fail me now."

"But Xartoc I can't-"

"JUST DO IT."

Wilbert struck a power horse stance pose suddenly, his arms flexing vigorously as he gritted his teeth and sucked back all the tears that yearned to escape his flustered face. Panting, he paused and stared once more at his reflection. He just had an entire conversation with himself, no wonder the Detective thought he was on drugs. Shaking his head, Wilbert slowly walked over to his discarded helmet, kneeling down to pick it up by its curved and smooth horns. He inhaled deeply through his nose, sucking in a stray bit of booger dripping down, and exhaled slowly from his mouth.

Focus.

This was no time for falling apart, he needed to organize himself and figure out a course of action. He was on the right floor to pick up the Dart Board for Shimona, so that would be his first stop, and afterwards he would meet with the Puppeteer and see about the truth of her innocence. One step at a time, that's how he'd get through this, just one step at a time. Sliding his helmet on, the unfamiliar yet recognizable array of lights and sounds began to clutter his vision, and with a grim resolve he began to tinker slightly with the Winged button he pressed earlier, testing its capabilities and maneuverability before heading out. As he flew away from the building he prayed, a prayer for forgiveness, for the poor soul he burned in cold blood, and for the hope that he had thrown his lot in with a truly innocent and victimized women. More so then anything, he needed it to be true, lest he lose what little scraps of his soul remained.

[Snowfire]

March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon
Kira's House


March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon
Kira's House

When Kira blocked her mother's ID, the Novitate-Elect relaxed visibly. The incessant flashing of her mother's messages had gotten incredibly irritating, and now that she could turn them off, it was easier to focus. Easier to be in the now, with Kira, and not thinking about every single way something had gone wrong in the meeting that had just occurred.

"This little...event, whatever it is, forced one of the other Novitate-Elects to show his hand." Adriana exhaled, slowly. Calming breathing. They learned it at school, of course. It was part of meditation, of prayer. Calming yourself, letting whatever message the Navigator might have for you come...

"So now the Novitate knows, for certain, that it isn't just the young ones who are part of this New Order. Now he knows, for certain, that at least one of the older, more 'respectable' people - someone he thought was firmly in his corner - is also part of the New Order. And I am not sure what that will mean, or what the repercussions will be for it." A sip of tea, and then another.

"It may force my hand - our hand. But I don't want it to, because I think this...whatever it is that you guys are dealing with, this is the real problem. Someone was able to screw with systems on a ship-wide level, public and private, and I just...I want to think about that for a while, instead of this. You said Damien was coming? He's coming to talk about that, right...? So...can I stay? Can I help, somehow?"



She wants to help. That could hurt her.

As Adri talked, Kira had listened intently, yet only with half of her mind truly focused on it. With the other, as the conversation had delved deeper into matters of internal cult politics, she had immersed the rest of herself in a deep search of the Datasphere. She wasn't a sociologist by any stretched definition of the term, but she - like all Coderunners - were well versed in pattern analysis. And that could be applied here - she just needed the relevant data.

Message and call density within the Cult compound, directionality and length of both within the 'sphere, and a particular notice paid to bouncing messages through external services. It was child's play to track really, given the basis of the compound's Datasphere defences on code at least two generations out of date and only ever updated by old style programmers. There was a reason that the Coderunners assigned at least three of their number to local duty around the compound, and it was quite a job making sure that attacks were repelled without tipping off the Cult that the 'heretical Coderunners' were defending them. She felt their attention brush her search several times, but it was quite clear what she was doing. Non-personal data tracking. And that really wasn't something that they had any reason to interfere with. Personals, yes. Anonymous stats, not so much. With them collected, all Kira had to do was plug them into the sim and wait.

She was in that brief wait period when Adri finished speaking, and her eyes were shaded with worry as she look across at her friend.

"Are you sure you want to involve yourself in this, Adri?" She asked softly. "If the Cult is slipping, wouldn't you prefer to be there, to try and hold your New Order together?" She nibbled on one of the cookies, then sighed. "Yet... Yes, you could help. We...we need a Counci-" She broke off as Damien's message popped up, breathing a mental sigh of relief that it had stopped her. She really didn't want to ask this of her friend, but she was sitting there offering. Maybe Damien would be able to help.

"That's Damien here." She said quickly, answering the unsaid question of why she'd stopped. "I'll go get him." She stood, then leant down as she passed Adri on the way towards the door and hugged her for a moment, careful not to make her spill her coffee. "Hang in there a moment, ok?"

Then she let go and vanished into the hall of the home. She brushed away the crumbs on her blouse - they were actually there this time - and opened the door.

"Thanks for coming." She murmured, gesturing him inside and then hugging once he was past the threshold and sending.

Adri's through in the sitting room. She's...I'm not really sure where, but she wants to help. With the CAS problem. Given she's a Novitate-Elect, she also can, but I'm...conflicted.

"Come on in, through here." She led him into the sitting room, sat down where she'd been before and then...stalled. She didn't know how to restart conversation. She looked over at Adri, hoping that she might have something to say, clearly attentive.

[Netjester]

March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon
Kira's House

She wants to help. That could hurt her.

As Adri talked, Kira had listened intently, yet only with half of her mind truly focused on it. With the other, as the conversation had delved deeper into matters of internal cult politics, she had immersed the rest of herself in a deep search of the Datasphere. She wasn't a sociologist by any stretched definition of the term, but she - like all Coderunners - were well versed in pattern analysis. And that could be applied here - she just needed the relevant data.

Message and call density within the Cult compound, directionality and length of both within the 'sphere, and a particular notice paid to bouncing messages through external services. It was child's play to track really, given the basis of the compound's Datasphere defences on code at least two generations out of date and only ever updated by old style programmers. There was a reason that the Coderunners assigned at least three of their number to local duty around the compound, and it was quite a job making sure that attacks were repelled without tipping off the Cult that the 'heretical Coderunners' were defending them. She felt their attention brush her search several times, but it was quite clear what she was doing. Non-personal data tracking. And that really wasn't something that they had any reason to interfere with. Personals, yes. Anonymous stats, not so much. With them collected, all Kira had to do was plug them into the sim and wait.

She was in that brief wait period when Adri finished speaking, and her eyes were shaded with worry as she look across at her friend.

"Are you sure you want to involve yourself in this, Adri?" She asked softly. "If the Cult is slipping, wouldn't you prefer to be there, to try and hold your New Order together?" She nibbled on one of the cookies, then sighed. "Yet... Yes, you could help. We...we need a Counci-" She broke off as Damien's message popped up, breathing a mental sigh of relief that it had stopped her. She really didn't want to ask this of her friend, but she was sitting there offering. Maybe Damien would be able to help.

"That's Damien here." She said quickly, answering the unsaid question of why she'd stopped. "I'll go get him." She stood, then leant down as she passed Adri on the way towards the door and hugged her for a moment, careful not to make her spill her coffee. "Hang in there a moment, ok?"

Then she let go and vanished into the hall of the home. She brushed away the crumbs on her blouse - they were actually there this time - and opened the door.

"Thanks for coming." She murmured, gesturing him inside and then hugging once he was past the threshold and sending.

Adri's through in the sitting room. She's...I'm not really sure where, but she wants to help. With the CAS problem. Given she's a Novitate-Elect, she also can, but I'm...conflicted.

"Come on in, through here." She led him into the sitting room, sat down where she'd been before and then...stalled. She didn't know how to restart conversation. She looked over at Adri, hoping that she might have something to say, clearly attentive.



March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon
Kira's House

"Anytime, sweetheart." Damien stepped across the threshold of the Tsumantso household; arms closing around Kira's shoulders before he stepped back; a message registering in an AR pane in his peripheral vision. His hands ran through his braids as he read the missive; his head tilting for a moment as the LEDs in his eyes pulsed a gentle cyan.

Well, if she wants to help, her role is surprisingly simple. If it comes to it, and we need some kind of... Delegate, or ambassador, or something to the Navigator-- if it's... Y'know, sentient... I mean, you're an Immersive, I'm an esper hacker; and I'm not sure about who else you might have enlisted to tag along; but she might be our best bet for who would go and talk to the Navigator. Problem is, with her order...

He let Kira lead him along, smoothing his overcoat down before sitting on the couch, across from Adri as his ankle rested on his opposite knee, leaning forward as he observed the woman. She appeared nervous-- incredibly nervous; he didn't even need his abilities as an Esper to feel it crashing in waves against him.

"So. You asked for me to come, and so I have... I hope I can answer any questions you may have, and hopefully provide a way forward." Damien's voice was quiet, rolling; calming-- a sharp contrast from his jovial code-broker facade.

[Kasanip]

March 12, 327 Lost Era
A Certain PALADIN Branch Office
Late Afternoon

Yan slumped into the break room chair, her hair still damp after long shower. For the moment, it was a solitude and silence alone
It was supposed to be a day off, but of course it had become very interesting.
She closed her eyes and imagined the scene again. It was uncountable the times it was tried to think again of the scene.
I think I would have caught her if the traffic wasn't so busy. Is always her conclusion. If it is the personality of an expert pilot, such a competitive feeling is also the frustration of a failed duty. The dour feeling seems to increase the pressure of artificial gravity.
Yan sighed. Of course there were many news reporters at the scene, however the report to be filed by the officer corps was not finished.
Probably it wouldn't be properly detailed with truth. Such is another dour thought.
She looked into the mirror at the familiar face. The reflected frown was surprising.
Am I always frowning like this? Even though the health news always says it is bad for your skin.
She sighed. Even the long shower hadn't helped to relax.
Maybe for once she would agree to a suggestion of Theo's. The so-called "pool" could help. Peacefully floating in space was better, but regulation and request for permission would be more stress than help. Maybe the pool would be fun. She could invite Theo, too. It was his idea.
The reflected smile in the mirror was surprising, too.
"Well." Yan composed herself and nodded to her reflection the private salute. It's time to go out!
She dried her hair and dressed into the clean uniform before leaving the locker room, passing some gossiping coworkers. Of course they were talking about the incident, but Yan already knew about it, so she politely greeted them and continued.
Approaching the desk for her partner, she greeted him.
"Theo, thank you for your hard work today." She paused, thinking how to make the request without awkward or embarrassing conversation.
"Since I have free time after work, I was thinking about going to the pool. I thought perhaps you might want to come."

[Kitsanth]

-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Afternoon
Tube to Deck-166



Only the bare minimum of Zyn's processes were paying attention to anything Rikki was saying, easily dismissing redundant data that he'd already picked up or could figure out himself. He was a little disappointed that she wasn't expanding on the rules, but let her speak as he amused himself with something that's second nature to most. He could now choose where he could see and hear well... Hearing was a little different, as audio function is not too different in the CMA but he had to hear as Rikki hears and never received any data she wasn't paying attention to. So in a way, he could also choose what he could hear as well if he wanted or even better just listen to nothing in particular at all. That was not even mentioning various other minor sensors and services most would take for granted of a WristcompTM. Then he discovered he could zoom and it became very difficult to concentrate on Rikki's words.

Trying his best to seem a little less rude, Zyn quickly drew a picture of a well lit table with six shadowy figures around it with a set of playing cards quite similar to the ones Rikki liked to use with the games on her terminal. Whether this confirms her suspicion or not, Zyn had never actually opened the Canasta program before though if one were to look through things alphabetically it would be one of the first. Instead he'd looked at things he felt he was allowed to that were most interesting to him first. Whist as a word is rather appealing and so he'd spent some time analyzing and playing it. The sketch had finished and sat forgotten on the WristcompTM as Zyn quickly zoomed out from where he was looking. I hope they didn't notice. he thought to himself as he purged the image quickly. It didn't really occur to him that there was little way for most people to notice him see something he perhaps shouldn't have.

Then he overheard a small group talking quite loudly. Surely if that were private, they wouldn't be so noisy? They were discussing hunting down the blueprints the couple who'd left the Courier Bot in the Treasure Hold had mentioned. So, it wasn't just them... Um? Zyn thought to himself. He quickly swept the sketch to one side and wrote a message to Rikki, | Did you hear of the blueprints so many people are talking about? It seems odd. First the pair in the Treasure Hold and now these noisy children. |

327 L.E. March 12th
Afternoon
In-Transit

A blinking indicator drew Rikki's attention to her Wristcomp™. It was an activity alert she had asked Li to add into the independent system - What her father's old friend had thought of that request was anyone's guess, and that combined with the specialised high-speed data-link cable desgined to work with CMA units.. well he did probably know that Rikki was up to something. At least she could count on Li to be discreet. - in other words, Zyn was up to something.

Flipping open the the device and activating its secondary screen took just a few seconds. Displayed was an image of a card game. Zyn had obviously drawn it himself, aside from Zyn and a few basic programs the Wristcomp™'s hidden system hadn't come with any extraneous data. The picture was quite good, not that Rikki was an expert or anything. Pondering whether drawing such things was much simpler for someone interacting directly with a program could take hours.

At this rate I'll be able to earn myself a philosophy degree, Rikki thought to herself as the image was swept away and a message popped up on the screen;


| Did you hear of the blueprints so many people are talking about? It seems odd. First the pair in the Treasure Hold and now these noisy children. |


'The blueprints?' Rikki queried, puzzled by this change of subject. Admittedly she hadn't been paying much attention to their fellow passengers. It was slack of her really, eavesdropping was basically in her job description. At least she could think towards Zyn thanks to the concealed cable-link. Yay for not needing to type.

'Wait, that odd broadcast that came through when I picked up the drone?' Rikki realised, 'I barely glanced at it really. A map of the Aeternus doesn't seem like it would be that useful really, after all this time? Well, I doubt the ship still conforms to her design specs.'

Rikki looked over at the youths Zyn had been listening to. From their attire and such it was clear they were mid-class, one even had a rather high-end wristtop. Obviously they were off to do whatever was trendy for mid-class teens get up to when not in class. Probably skating, that was very in last from what Rikki had heard lately.

'Personally, I feel that the message's delivery is more impressive than any outdated maps,' she mused, 'simultaneous broadcast to so many disparate devices? It certainly lit up every wireless capable screen I noticed in the Treasure Hold. Admittedly I wasn't paying that much attention at the time so I could be wrong...
'The skills it would take to pull that off? It's probably a rogue Coderunner or even an Immersive. I might be able to show it to you actually.' Rikki flipped through the menu on her Wristcomp™. 'It's probably still in my message history.'

[Rain Dragon]

327 L.E. March 12th
Afternoon
In-Transit

A blinking indicator drew Rikki's attention to her Wristcomp™. It was an activity alert she had asked Li to add into the independent system - What her father's old friend had thought of that request was anyone's guess, and that combined with the specialised high-speed data-link cable desgined to work with CMA units.. well he did probably know that Rikki was up to something. At least she could count on Li to be discreet. - in other words, Zyn was up to something.

Flipping open the the device and activating its secondary screen took just a few seconds. Displayed was an image of a card game. Zyn had obviously drawn it himself, aside from Zyn and a few basic programs the Wristcomp™'s hidden system hadn't come with any extraneous data. The picture was quite good, not that Rikki was an expert or anything. Pondering whether drawing such things was much simpler for someone interacting directly with a program could take hours.

At this rate I'll be able to earn myself a philosophy degree, Rikki thought to herself as the image was swept away and a message popped up on the screen;


| Did you hear of the blueprints so many people are talking about? It seems odd. First the pair in the Treasure Hold and now these noisy children. |


'The blueprints?' Rikki queried, puzzled by this change of subject. Admittedly she hadn't been paying much attention to their fellow passengers. It was slack of her really, eavesdropping was basically in her job description. At least she could think towards Zyn thanks to the concealed cable-link. Yay for not needing to type.

'Wait, that odd broadcast that came through when I picked up the drone?' Rikki realised, 'I barely glanced at it really. A map of the Aeternus doesn't seem like it would be that useful really, after all this time? Well, I doubt the ship still conforms to her design specs.'

Rikki looked over at the youths Zyn had been listening to. From their attire and such it was clear they were mid-class, one even had a rather high-end wristtop. Obviously they were off to do whatever was trendy for mid-class teens get up to when not in class. Probably skating, that was very in last from what Rikki had heard lately.

'Personally, I feel that the message's delivery is more impressive than any outdated maps,' she mused, 'simultaneous broadcast to so many disparate devices? It certainly lit up every wireless capable screen I noticed in the Treasure Hold. Admittedly I wasn't paying that much attention at the time so I could be wrong...
'The skills it would take to pull that off? It's probably a rogue Coderunner or even an Immersive. I might be able to show it to you actually.' Rikki flipped through the menu on her Wristcomp™. 'It's probably still in my message history.'


-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Afternoon
Tube to Deck-166


Zyn was careful not to display a visual representation of himself on the screen; he felt at the moment he'd be shaking his head too much. He threw another message on the screen, | Blueprints are typically more than a map and from what even I can see it would be very useful to multiple parties and I've only been awake a few months. With so many brilliant minds on this ship, blueprints could unlock secrets. Important secrets. Secrets which could be or do many things, but if we're to be optimistic these secrets could include data on a certain rogue AI I'm sure everyone is familiar with. | Zyn paused a moment before the next messages. | Does the message's delivery not speak for the potential of the blueprints if nothing else will? Whoever it was, I do not expect everyone to be happy with such an event. Whoever it was, they are very outnumbered and still they did this. They are either very, very stupid or believe this is very, very important. | Zyn paused a moment and quickly displayed a small thinking face. | No. I think, a bit of both. More of the former. Why the general public and not just important targets? This seems like a trap to me. I do not like this. |

[Kitsanth]

-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Afternoon
Tube to Deck-166


Zyn was careful not to display a visual representation of himself on the screen; he felt at the moment he'd be shaking his head too much. He threw another message on the screen, | Blueprints are typically more than a map and from what even I can see it would be very useful to multiple parties and I've only been awake a few months. With so many brilliant minds on this ship, blueprints could unlock secrets. Important secrets. Secrets which could be or do many things, but if we're to be optimistic these secrets could include data on a certain rogue AI I'm sure everyone is familiar with. | Zyn paused a moment before the next messages. | Does the message's delivery not speak for the potential of the blueprints if nothing else will? Whoever it was, I do not expect everyone to be happy with such an event. Whoever it was, they are very outnumbered and still they did this. They are either very, very stupid or believe this is very, very important. | Zyn paused a moment and quickly displayed a small thinking face. | No. I think, a bit of both. More of the former. Why the general public and not just important targets? This seems like a trap to me. I do not like this. |

327 L.E. March 12th
Afternoon
In-Transit

The Umbriel Tube station was just a few stops away now. Rikki considered Zyn's words as she scrolled through her message history; spam, more spam, an invitation to join the Xartoc fan-club, suspicious activity around Midship...

'Honestly, technical concerns of this level? It's way beyond me,' Rikki admitted, 'I don't like all this either. Whoever is behind this? I doubt altruism is their intent here.'

Meanwhile Rikki kept flicking through the list, the number of messages generated in one day were rather insane; more conspiracy theories on Council-sanctioned kill-bots... Well that's just ludicrous, androids are just fiction! she thought to herself, What will they come up with next? Nanobot swarms? Rikki laughed silently at the very idea of such things.

Finally, an untitled message with a timestamp that fit with what Rikki remembered from earlier in the day. Putting her rudimentary skills to work, she isolated it from the OS of her Wristcomp™ - it could have malicious software attached after all - dialled the volume down and hit play.


"Some of what was lost has been found. The map exists. The ship can't hide itself from itself. Find the map. FIND THE BLUEPRINTS."


'Yeah, definitely not ominous or anything...'

[Rain Dragon]

327 L.E. March 12th
Afternoon
In-Transit

The Umbriel Tube station was just a few stops away now. Rikki considered Zyn's words as she scrolled through her message history; spam, more spam, an invitation to join the Xartoc fan-club, suspicious activity around Midship...

'Honestly, technical concerns of this level? It's way beyond me,' Rikki admitted, 'I don't like all this either. Whoever is behind this? I doubt altruism is their intent here.'

Meanwhile Rikki kept flicking through the list, the number of messages generated in one day were rather insane; more conspiracy theories on Council-sanctioned kill-bots... Well that's just ludicrous, androids are just fiction! she thought to herself, What will they come up with next? Nanobot swarms? Rikki laughed silently at the very idea of such things.

Finally, an untitled message with a timestamp that fit with what Rikki remembered from earlier in the day. Putting her rudimentary skills to work, she isolated it from the OS of her Wristcomp™ - it could have malicious software attached after all - dialled the volume down and hit play.


"Some of what was lost has been found. The map exists. The ship can't hide itself from itself. Find the map. FIND THE BLUEPRINTS."


'Yeah, definitely not ominous or anything...'


-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Afternoon
Tube to Deck-166


As Rikki scrolled through her messages, the Wristcomp Zyn was on displayed a 3D galaxy map he was working on. Particular attention was paid to the colours of the galaxy; the nebulas, stars, planets and so on. In the middle of the stars, Zyn's 'avatar' so to speak walked onto the screen. This time he was wearing nothing but a skirt, his intricate tattoos glowing a cool green as he adjusted the detail on his muscles. It seemed he'd been getting into some old comics and chosen to appear similarly to a character with a slim but well muscled appearance. His black hair hung to below his waist for once, braided and tied with a red silk ribbon. Zooming in on the blue star he had seen earlier, Zyn scowled lightly at some minor detail as he played with the colours. It seemed he was concerned more with aesthetics than accuracy. When Rikki spoke, Zyn turned to face her and zoomed the galaxy map out again. Opening a private communications channel he 'said', "If it were then they should not have been so... so..." Zyn found himself with multiple word possibilities though none by themselves worked well and he could hardly send all of them at once. Shrugging he continued, "I would not be surprised to learn the goal was not to find the blueprints but to cause ship-wide problems. There may be very important people pursuing this and that may be just what they want." Zyn's tattoos pulsed an uneasy orange as the stars began to slowly spin behind him as he processed multiple possibilities and discarded each one. "It seems most likely to me that this will affect many." With that, he turned around and closed the galaxy map. Opening one of his completed tracks, he began creating an abstract 3D image to go with it while Rikki continued to scroll through her messages.

The image was little more than a patch of blue barely large enough to see when Rikki played back the message.

"Some of what was lost has been found. The map exists. The ship can't hide itself from itself. Find the map. FIND THE BLUEPRINTS."

Zyn raised an eyebrow and tapped his chin in thought. His tattoos glowed a steady purple as he did so. Turning toward Rikki he sent another message on the private communication channel, "Well, I can see where the confusion comes from. But... Ah." Zyn's tattoos brightened to a cheery blue, "I think this is ominous! But we are almost at the station! I am still looking forward to Canasta." Zyn beamed, unaware that the act of smiling does little to nothing to hide the worry on one's face.

[TheDarkDM]

March 13, 327 Lost Era
Low Hab
Later Morning

"So, how exactly are we going to get the money off of this without all of PALADIN coming down on us?"

Shelly walked alongside Ash through one of Low Hab's many charming filth alleys, only pausing from time to time to kick aside the source of any particularly offensive odor. She'd torn the midriff off the shirt she'd been wearing underneath her sweater to bandage the evidence of her inhumanity, and for the moment seemed to be dealing with the revelation as well as could be expected. She didn't mention that when they'd spent the night in an abandoned hab-cube, she'd only spent an hour or so actually asleep.

"And once we do that, how are we going to clear your name? I mean, I may somehow know the technical specs of the entire ship, but that's pretty much the limit of my experience. Well, that and fighting, apparently."

They'd only been threatened once today, by a significantly larger gang lead by the same toughs they'd chased out the night before. It had ended with seven of them unconscious and the rest suddenly remembering urgent appointments anywhere but in their way. The word had spread pretty well after that. Still, Shelly was on edge - despite her sometimes terrifying capabilities, a neighborhood this rough was entirely new territory, and unlike Ash she had no idea what to expect.

[hi-mi-tsu]

March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon
Kira's House

"Anytime, sweetheart." Damien stepped across the threshold of the Tsumantso household; arms closing around Kira's shoulders before he stepped back; a message registering in an AR pane in his peripheral vision. His hands ran through his braids as he read the missive; his head tilting for a moment as the LEDs in his eyes pulsed a gentle cyan.

Well, if she wants to help, her role is surprisingly simple. If it comes to it, and we need some kind of... Delegate, or ambassador, or something to the Navigator-- if it's... Y'know, sentient... I mean, you're an Immersive, I'm an esper hacker; and I'm not sure about who else you might have enlisted to tag along; but she might be our best bet for who would go and talk to the Navigator. Problem is, with her order...

He let Kira lead him along, smoothing his overcoat down before sitting on the couch, across from Adri as his ankle rested on his opposite knee, leaning forward as he observed the woman. She appeared nervous-- incredibly nervous; he didn't even need his abilities as an Esper to feel it crashing in waves against him.

"So. You asked for me to come, and so I have... I hope I can answer any questions you may have, and hopefully provide a way forward." Damien's voice was quiet, rolling; calming-- a sharp contrast from his jovial code-broker facade.



March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon
Kira's House

Adriana started, a little, when Damien entered; she'd vaguely noticed when Kira had said he was here, and had gone to collect him, but had fallen into her own thoughts again as soon as her friend left the room. And her thoughts...were frustrating. She managed a smile for the man, wan at best, then dropped her eyes to the cup of tea in her hands.

"I'm glad to see that you're...looking better than earlier, Damien. And...thank you, for coming." The cultist paused, eyes flickering.

"I have questions, but I...look. I'm not very smart. I only barely understand what it is you do, what Kira does. I got through school by working hard, but I'm most certainly the stupidest person in this room. And I don't say that to be self-deprecating, I say it because...I have so many questions about what's happened, but I don't even know how to ask them, or if they're stupid..."

She exhaled, sharply, and shook her head. "It's irrelevant, I suppose. My main question is - neither of you know who did this, right? It's not...it's no one you're aware of, no one in your groups? Because I told the entire council, Elects and the Novitate himself, that you weren't involved. ...Not that it's stopped him from idiocy and madness but I tried. And I just...I just need to know that I was right. That I was right in my gut to believe that if either of you even began to know who was behind this...this message, this chaos, you would have stopped it."

Her eyes lifted, taking them both in. "And...if that's true, I reiterate - I'm not smart. But I am connected, and I have served as a liaison on the Council before. ...And I've also got a not-insignificant support base, should that become necessary. So if I can trust you both...I want to help."

Another pause, and then the cultist laughed, a strained sound.

"Provided, of course, that you think you can trust me."

[Jade_Tarem]

March 13, 327 Lost Era
Low Hab
Later Morning

Ash had been thinking about that herself. As much as she hated trying to lay down a long-term, complex plan - they always tended to fall apart, in her opinion - she didn't see a quick and easy solution to the mess she was in now. She especially hated the notion that she might have to write something down.

Well, there were intermediate steps. "Welcome to the problem of hot merchandise. You're right, we can't just spend it wherever we want. We're probably going to end up contacting one of the criminal groups on the ship and/or the black market. They'll launder it properly - and take a cut, though I can probably convince them to reduce the percentage, given the size of the transaction."

They emerged, at last, onto a lower deck that Ash recognized. The psychic began steering them toward Phoebe's Shelter - she had something stashed there that she needed to pick up. The scenery, for its part, did not improve. Lighting flickered, weird... things that the Aeternus had picked up during its travels scampered into piles of refuse, and the acrid stink of bad wiring occasionally overcame the air scrubber's ability to purge it. A viscous, glowing blue fluid occasionally dripped from the pipework above and disintegrated on contact with the air, vanishing with a sparkle before it ever reached the floor.

"As for clearing my name, that's trickier. A couple of years ago, I contacted the editor-in-chief of ANE's news division, or whatever they call it, and laid down the rule for him - the news could embellish and exaggerate whatever I do, but if they ever just made up a story that would totally ruin my reputation or turned the whole ship on me, I would find him and use my powers to make him do whatever it was the news said that I did while I recorded it and uploaded it to the Datasphere." She caught Shelly's look and grinned. "What, you didn't think it was a little strange that no tabloid article has ever claimed that I'm sleeping with half the ship and a two-headed hermaphroditic clone of the Captain? They do that for every quasi-celebrity eventually. Although... I guess you might not have seen very much of that with such a short memory. Anyway, that's the first step for me - if ANE actually put that news story out, then they have something that he either thinks is real evidence, or actually is evidence of something similar enough that he thought I wouldn't care."

They emerged onto one of the scummiest decks of them all. The actual number was known only to the engineers with access to ship schematics. The deck was called Deck 33 by its denizens, as a sort of in-joke in the style of the Hanoi Hilton. Here, no one made threats or postured - the people here actually were tough, not to mention desperate and frequently more than a little bit crazy. Those with problems they couldn't afford to fix, or that couldn't be fixed, wound up down here eventually. "You know how parts of the ship have a reputation for being places where high class criminals, gangsters, and the actual well-to-do can all meet in peace? Like a ritzy sort of slum?"

"Oh, like Casablanca?"

Ash stared blankly at Shelly for a moment. She assumed Casablanca was some kind of on-board casino and wondered which deck it was on. "Sure. Anyway, that's not what this is. This is a rat's nest, only moldy and full of vipers too and... look, it's an entire nasty ecosystem." The taller woman nodded and ducked under another leaky gizmo. "Phoebe runs a shelter down here. Everyone loves Phoebe. It's where I've been staying to keep off of PALADIN'S grid. I was planning to hang out there until everything from the last job blew over but... that's impossible now. So I'm going to grab a shower - you should too, I think - grab my stuff, my weapon, and then we hit the big bad ship. First stop is Gar's place. I'm not going to stand up the crazy man in the power armor."


March 13, 327 Lost Era
Treasure Hold
Afternoon

"You have a lot of nerve coming back here, Eigan. And you too, crazy witch-girl! Get out of my bar before I-" Ash slapped a fifty credit chip down on the counter. "Nevermind, what can I get for you ladies today?"

Gar bustled off to synthesize their drinks as the pair found an intact table. "...took them weeks to repair the damage and restore power. And that's the story of why only the medical bays can legally synthesize aphrodisiacs." They had already been to the black market, a task Ash hated due to it being boring yet still dangerous. Between her powers and Shelly, though, they hadn't lost too much of their PALADIN take to the launderer's cut. "But anyway, how do you want to pursue your end of the mystery? The amnesia might be more of an answer than a question, if you're a True AI. Whatever you remember first is probably your... activation date? Bootstrapping? Bah, I barely remember Tech Ed."

“I’m not sure. But I think the first thing is to get ahold of a doctor and get a full body scan. The trouble is I don’t think they accept wanted fugitives at the med centers.”

The psychic nodded. "Well, the wanted fugitives bit isn't that hard. But what if it is your whole body? The doctor will probably notice the... everything. Are you comfortable with me using my powers on him or her long enough for us to leave?"

“Comfortable? No. But I’ve been doing a lot of stuff that makes me uncomfortable recently.”

"A...ah." Ash scratched the back of her head. Finally at a loss for things to say, she grabbed the monitor remote and started channel flipping while waiting for 'Xartoc.'

[Tychris1]

March 13, 327 Lost Era
Treasure Hold
Afternoon

Xartoc looked around, his high tech heads up display randomly and arbitrarily bringing up information to him that he couldn't understand or decipher. He was vaguely sure it was probably some kind of targeting system or a biological scanner, thinking on it for a second made him uncomfortable with the latter and scared of the former. It was like being the head surgeon of an entire hospital staff running to each person and violating their personal space, or the commander of a sniper squadron with its sights locked on everyone. He could have been completely wrong and just overthinking the gibberish flashing before his eyes, but the possibility of it still made his spine shiver.

After quickly and quietly delivering the holographic dart board to The Perpetual Neighbor, Wilbert booked it to the Treasure Hold full throttle to meet his damsel in distress and Robin Hoodette. He briefly considered scouting the place in his civilian guise, but quickly dismissed the idea as too dangerous. He was rather defenseless without his suit on, even if it were strapped to his back, and in such a populated area of the ship the risk of being spotted wasn't worth the reward. He'd had to march in with full regalia, blind to the truth of whether or not he'd even see them there. Well, he put faith in the legitimacy of her innocence, he might as well follow that faith throughout.

Striding into the establishment that Ash told him about, Xartoc felt almost odd walking on his own two feet after so briefly defying the laws of gravity and soaring through the sky like an angel. Xartoc shook his head at the memory of flying, as the reality of his pyromania murder creeped to the back of his mind. There was no time for that now. Looking around the bar Xartoc set his sights upon the two people he was looking to find. He payed no attention to the odd glares, hushed mutters, and general air of awkward awe from the other patrons. He had put faith in a complete stranger and had it rewarded fully, he was too irreverent to care. With heavy, powered steps he plodded over to their table and looked down to the two of them.

"Ladies. It's good to see you two in a less hazardous circumstance."

[Snowfire]

March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon
Kira's House


Adriana started, a little, when Damien entered; she'd vaguely noticed when Kira had said he was here, and had gone to collect him, but had fallen into her own thoughts again as soon as her friend left the room. And her thoughts...were frustrating. She managed a smile for the man, wan at best, then dropped her eyes to the cup of tea in her hands.

"I'm glad to see that you're...looking better than earlier, Damien. And...thank you, for coming." The cultist paused, eyes flickering.

"I have questions, but I...look. I'm not very smart. I only barely understand what it is you do, what Kira does. I got through school by working hard, but I'm most certainly the stupidest person in this room. And I don't say that to be self-deprecating, I say it because...I have so many questions about what's happened, but I don't even know how to ask them, or if they're stupid..."

She exhaled, sharply, and shook her head. "It's irrelevant, I suppose. My main question is - neither of you know who did this, right? It's not...it's no one you're aware of, no one in your groups? Because I told the entire council, Elects and the Novitate himself, that you weren't involved. ...Not that it's stopped him from idiocy and madness but I tried. And I just...I just need to know that I was right. That I was right in my gut to believe that if either of you even began to know who was behind this...this message, this chaos, you would have stopped it."

Her eyes lifted, taking them both in. "And...if that's true, I reiterate - I'm not smart. But I am connected, and I have served as a liaison on the Council before. ...And I've also got a not-insignificant support base, should that become necessary. So if I can trust you both...I want to help."

Another pause, and then the cultist laughed, a strained sound.

"Provided, of course, that you think you can trust me."

"Adri..." Kira looked down, at the trembling hands just away from her, then reached forward and grasped one of them. Her grip was firm, given as a wordless offer of support and trust, and she hoped that Adri would be able to recognise and take it. But there was more to this than simple support. Adriana needed truth, was almost begging for it. And it was her duty.

"The message that shattered the calm of this ship, upsetting all of the careful balances that have held for over a century, it was not of our doing. We're...well," a long breath, in then out in a sigh. "We're still trying to work out the detailed mechanics of how, let alone who and what. But even with that, I can promise you that it was not an Immersive. And it certainly wasn't a Coderunner - that would go against everything we are. Lea is leading tracking as we speak, alongside most of the Immersives, and we'd be able to tell. Not for what, but how."

She was aware that she was telling Adri a lot more than she'd told Damien, but Adri was a Novitate-Elect, she'd sat in on Ship Council sessions. She had clearance - albeit limited - to what Kira was telling her, and should know CAS procedures if only from access to certain secured databases. "And if we - the Coderunners - had known this was coming we'd have shut it down hard, Adri. We exist to protect the Datasphere, and although this didn't harm it anything that can blanket broadcast the entire ship is a potential threat to that." The Coderunners could do that, but only in very particular circumstances. And it was the fact that it had broken into secured instances and zero-day'd firewalls that would take even an Immersive minutes - if not hours - to crack that was the real worry.

"I can't deny that you could help, Adri. Speaking bluntly, you could be an immense asset - quite beside being my friend. We need a Council Liason for the duration of the Coderunner Authority Situation, and I know you could do that. But the other things you offer...are you sure you want to do that?" Her grip tightened on Adri's hand.

"Adriana...there are currents here that I don't even understand how to track, but you've talked about what might happen if," when, she corrected silently, "a schism occurs." She was looking at the now finished stat analysis, and she really didn't like what she was seeing. Power bases were already being called to account, favours exchanged, lines drawn between those who had once been united. Very quietly, she slipped it into a message to higher. There was little that she and hers could do, but maybe it might reach the desk of someone who could do something.

"I can't reject your help." She pulled her across carefully, into a hug. "I do trust you." Then, as she let go and returned to sitting. "I just...I can't help but worry. About what you working openly with us might be do. But if you're ready to live with the consequences that might come of that, there's nothing I can say against it." She looked over at Damien, sitting watching, and wondered what was behind his eyes.

"What about you, Damien?"

[Netjester]

March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon
Kira's House


"Adri..." Kira looked down, at the trembling hands just away from her, then reached forward and grasped one of them. Her grip was firm, given as a wordless offer of support and trust, and she hoped that Adri would be able to recognise and take it. But there was more to this than simple support. Adriana needed truth, was almost begging for it. And it was her duty.

"The message that shattered the calm of this ship, upsetting all of the careful balances that have held for over a century, it was not of our doing. We're...well," a long breath, in then out in a sigh. "We're still trying to work out the detailed mechanics of how, let alone who and what. But even with that, I can promise you that it was not an Immersive. And it certainly wasn't a Coderunner - that would go against everything we are. Lea is leading tracking as we speak, alongside most of the Immersives, and we'd be able to tell. Not for what, but how."

She was aware that she was telling Adri a lot more than she'd told Damien, but Adri was a Novitate-Elect, she'd sat in on Ship Council sessions. She had clearance - albeit limited - to what Kira was telling her, and should know CAS procedures if only from access to certain secured databases. "And if we - the Coderunners - had known this was coming we'd have shut it down hard, Adri. We exist to protect the Datasphere, and although this didn't harm it anything that can blanket broadcast the entire ship is a potential threat to that." The Coderunners could do that, but only in very particular circumstances. And it was the fact that it had broken into secured instances and zero-day'd firewalls that would take even an Immersive minutes - if not hours - to crack that was the real worry.

"I can't deny that you could help, Adri. Speaking bluntly, you could be an immense asset - quite beside being my friend. We need a Council Liason for the duration of the Coderunner Authority Situation, and I know you could do that. But the other things you offer...are you sure you want to do that?" Her grip tightened on Adri's hand.

"Adriana...there are currents here that I don't even understand how to track, but you've talked about what might happen if," when, she corrected silently, "a schism occurs." She was looking at the now finished stat analysis, and she really didn't like what she was seeing. Power bases were already being called to account, favours exchanged, lines drawn between those who had once been united. Very quietly, she slipped it into a message to higher. There was little that she and hers could do, but maybe it might reach the desk of someone who could do something.

"I can't reject your help." She pulled her across carefully, into a hug. "I do trust you." Then, as she let go and returned to sitting. "I just...I can't help but worry. About what you working openly with us might be do. But if you're ready to live with the consequences that might come of that, there's nothing I can say against it." She looked over at Damien, sitting watching, and wondered what was behind his eyes.

"What about you, Damien?"




March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon
Kira's House

Damien took a long moment to think as Kira looked up at him, the LEDs in his eyes pulsing a soft cerulean before shifting to a mint-green. This was a minefield, albeit not a minefield of Adriana's making-- on one hand, a Council member on the team would be IMMENSELY useful. However... Considering her affiliations, she could be walking through the minefield herself. He took another few moments, fingers stroking his chin before opening several AR panes; his eyes skimming through DAT-feeds of the various Dark-Sim communities that being an ex-RAMJet gave him the privilege of being a part of. His eyebrows knitted together in concern; eyes flaring amber for a second before fading back into their previous mint, looking up at the two.

"It is true, the likelihood of this being a Coderunner or Immersive is VERY low. And I've had my finger on the pulse of Dark-Sim hacker communities, they were rocked just as hard about this-- meaning either it wasn't one of them, or it was, but they're staying quiet about it-- which is surprisingly rare among hackers of all hat colors. From what I'm given to understand about the Cult of the Navigator, their bias against all things Coderunner is well understood, but one would think that they'd believe... Believe this was a legitimate communication from the Navigator. Things don't add up with their assumption, which only leads me to believe that someone is trying to maintain grip over the group; rather than send an investigator."

He fell to a pause, trying to gather his thoughts again. "I firmly believe that Adriana could be incredibly useful to us, both as a liaison with the Council; and in the case that we actually reach the Navigator, and it truly is..." Damien looked around uneasily; the idea causing the LEDs in his eyes to fall to a goldenrod. "If it-- she-- has developed a God complex, we need an ambassador. Someone who knows what it is like to worship it-- her-- I don't--"

Damien shook his head, fingers clenching together before the tension in the area around him fell, the steel orbs he'd brought with him beginning to orbit around his head. A shuddered breath, and he shook his head, the lights in his eyes a gentle cyan again. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to offend, I just... Dios mio, the idea of an AI developing a God complex scares me, because-- to me, religion was always distant. My father was agnostic, after all. But the idea of something with literally ultimate control over everything, being so close-- it frightens me. But in the case that it comes to that, Adriana is our best bet."

He forged on, running his hands through his braids before sounding steadier, eyes locking on Adriana's. "Problem is, you're damned if you do, damned if you don't. If you do, and we do find the Navigator in all of this, the... I suppose for now, we can call the Novitiate and his followers the Old Guard, am I correct in assuming this?" He continued after a small pause. "The Old Guard will not believe you, and will attempt to ostracize you further. If you do, and we don't, or the Navigator isn't what you believed it to be, your following may claim you to be a liar and disavow you. You walk through a minefield, Adri. But at the end of the day, it is your choice to make the offer."

[Rain Dragon]

-- Magell --
327 Lost Era | March 12
Deck-166 en route to Umbriel Tube Station


Magell looked back yet again at the Cepheus Tavern. While confident that yes, Ashmet really could run the business by herself for a day, the fact this was Magell's first day off without closing the Tavern seemed only to encourage needless worries to make their way into Magell's mind again. What happens if there is a traffic mishap and a vehicle crashes into the Tavern? What if some punk comes in heavily armed and tries to...

"Sorry madam! It shall not happen again!" Magell's software swiftly and smoothly interpreted and spoke in a charming and apologetic tenor voice as Magell whizzed past on new skateshoes. Still getting used to them, Magell turned down a little used side street on the way to the nearest Tube Station. A minor navigational error, some bactracking, more than a little improvisation and a barely saved favourite top hat later and Magell was nearing the Umbriel Tube Station. Where to next, nobody knows. Perhaps to the Treasure Hold? A nearby park? Magell's second favourite pub? Who knew? There was still a few minutes to decide after all...

[hi-mi-tsu]

March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon
Kira's House

Damien took a long moment to think as Kira looked up at him, the LEDs in his eyes pulsing a soft cerulean before shifting to a mint-green. This was a minefield, albeit not a minefield of Adriana's making-- on one hand, a Council member on the team would be IMMENSELY useful. However... Considering her affiliations, she could be walking through the minefield herself. He took another few moments, fingers stroking his chin before opening several AR panes; his eyes skimming through DAT-feeds of the various Dark-Sim communities that being an ex-RAMJet gave him the privilege of being a part of. His eyebrows knitted together in concern; eyes flaring amber for a second before fading back into their previous mint, looking up at the two.

"It is true, the likelihood of this being a Coderunner or Immersive is VERY low. And I've had my finger on the pulse of Dark-Sim hacker communities, they were rocked just as hard about this-- meaning either it wasn't one of them, or it was, but they're staying quiet about it-- which is surprisingly rare among hackers of all hat colors. From what I'm given to understand about the Cult of the Navigator, their bias against all things Coderunner is well understood, but one would think that they'd believe... Believe this was a legitimate communication from the Navigator. Things don't add up with their assumption, which only leads me to believe that someone is trying to maintain grip over the group; rather than send an investigator."

He fell to a pause, trying to gather his thoughts again. "I firmly believe that Adriana could be incredibly useful to us, both as a liaison with the Council; and in the case that we actually reach the Navigator, and it truly is..." Damien looked around uneasily; the idea causing the LEDs in his eyes to fall to a goldenrod. "If it-- she-- has developed a God complex, we need an ambassador. Someone who knows what it is like to worship it-- her-- I don't--"

Damien shook his head, fingers clenching together before the tension in the area around him fell, the steel orbs he'd brought with him beginning to orbit around his head. A shuddered breath, and he shook his head, the lights in his eyes a gentle cyan again. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to offend, I just... Dios mio, the idea of an AI developing a God complex scares me, because-- to me, religion was always distant. My father was agnostic, after all. But the idea of something with literally ultimate control over everything, being so close-- it frightens me. But in the case that it comes to that, Adriana is our best bet."

He forged on, running his hands through his braids before sounding steadier, eyes locking on Adriana's. "Problem is, you're damned if you do, damned if you don't. If you do, and we do find the Navigator in all of this, the... I suppose for now, we can call the Novitiate and his followers the Old Guard, am I correct in assuming this?" He continued after a small pause. "The Old Guard will not believe you, and will attempt to ostracize you further. If you do, and we don't, or the Navigator isn't what you believed it to be, your following may claim you to be a liar and disavow you. You walk through a minefield, Adri. But at the end of the day, it is your choice to make the offer."



March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon
Kira's House

"I think...the minefield is there, whether I join you or not." Adriana's hand reached out again, clenched in Kira's, and the cultist's eyes darkened. "In front of all the Novitate-Elects, the Novitate threatened to push me down to Initiate for speaking out. For standing my ground against what...what has become more and more obviously a corrupted system. I know that...that for both of you, what I am, what I believe, seems ludicrous. To worship an AI, how absurd. How silly. How meaningless. But the fact is that the Navigator did choose, of her own accord - as far as anyone can tell - to alter the course of the Aeternus. She chose, of her own accord, to seal herself away, to shift what parts of the ship were navigable, to keep herself aloof. And now there is...something, or someone, rocking this foundation. Is it her? Is it someone who wishes to harm her? Someone who wishes to help? No one knows. As a Novitate-Elect, my job is to spread the word of the Navigator, certainly, but..."

She sighed, and pulled her hand away. Much as she would like another hug - and, perhaps, to just sit in it for a while - there wasn't time for sentiment. There wasn't time to cry or to be upset, any more.

"I don't...know if you both understand the full gravity of what it means, that the Novitate threatened to strip my rank. The only way I can lose the rank of Novitate-Elect is...is if I have been treasonous to the Order. If he believes, already, that I am treasonous, then helping you certainly won't make my situation any worse, will it...?"

She looked up at Damien, then over to Kira. One barely more than a stranger, one a dear friend. There were so many responsibilities she felt...so many ties. She could trace them throughout the ship. Acolytes who believed that the Navigator truly was branching out, creating Coderunners and Immersives to support her message, to connect more widely. Initiates who joined on the promise of a new and reinvigorated cult, one that kept records, that sought answers, that reached out to the common person instead of locking themselves away. And Novitate-Elects who joined in secret, rallying under a banner of changing winds.

"We all walk through a minefield. There's no escaping that. I'd rather walk through it with people I trust than blindly seek answers from a den of corruption."

[Jade_Tarem]

March 13, 327 Lost Era
Treasure Hold - Citrine Level
Afternoon

Ash had finally found it. The worst soap opera since the Lost Era had begun. She couldn't take her eyes off it.

"Oh Rodrigo, how could you possibly love me? You're a member of the Ship's Council... and I'm a criminal and a whore."

An involuntary bark of laughter escaped the psychic. "A criminal and a whore? When does she sleep?"

"Probably during his dialogue." Ash snorted and glanced his way, she didn't know Gar had been paying attention. This also gave her a view of the mechanical monstrosity clomping into the bar. She frowned a bit at that - she didn't sense any hostility from him, but Power Armor did have a limited number of grocery shopping applications.

"Ladies. It's good to see you two in a less hazardous circumstance."

"Likewise." Ash leaned back and gestured to the empty seat. "Well, I hope you don't mind that we already ordered. Relax! Take your war machine off and stay a while."

[Tychris1]

March 13, 327 Lost Era
Treasure Hold - Citrine Level
Afternoon

Xartoc snorted underneath his dense armor, echoing within his helmet.

"Hah, sorry dear but the bastion of valor stays on. It's the face of justice and your liason with me, so I'd get used to it. Besides you never know when EVIL,"

Xartoc swiftly stuck his pointer finger towards the roof as he raised his voice a few notches at the word.

"Will strike."

Looking down at the seat available to him, Xartoc slowly positioned himself onto it, and occasionally glanced back down at it as it squeaked and groaned in the pain of supporting such a mighty weight. If it didn't break on him halfway through this meeting it would be a miracle, and the chair would probably be quickly decommissioned due to damage anyway. Placing his hands on the table, Xartoc looked at Shelly and then to Ash, staying quiet for half a minute, and simply letting the soap opera fill the silence with random drivel.

"Because Maria, I'm your lost father from the future. I came to the past to save you!"

Wilbert absent mindedly remembered this soap opera from his old acting days, General Council. Never did like the script much, but he had a decent part as an evil cyborg clone for a story arc. Rodrigo used to just be an extra background council member, but apparently he made it to the "big times". Wilbert vaguely remembered him being a ****. Snapping out of his trip down memory lane, Xartoc addressed the situation at hand.

"Now, ladies I have always believed in abiding by the law, working for your fair share, and playing by the rules. But sometimes people get the rules mixed up, and winners end up as losers. As a professional vigilante it's my job to decipher these situations and help the wrongfully accused, or imprison the offending members. Normally I would never aggresively engage with law enforcement officials under any circumstances, but given your particularly unique case I 'm making an exception. I have faith in the legitimacy of your innocence and in the reality of proving it and bringing the truth to light if we work together. Now that that's out of the way, I have to ask: Do you have any leads, cues, or ideas as to who or why you are being falsly accused? Most of my detective work involves hitting things so a person or location would be especially useful."

[TheDarkDM]

March 13, 327 Lost Era
Treasure Hold - Citrine Level
Afternoon

Shelly was so transfixed by the transcendent awfulness of the soap opera that she almost hadn't noticed Xartoc enter the bar. She certainly wouldn't have if a particular ringing in her ears hadn't caused her to turn her head at the right moment. Still, she was only partially engaged in the initial greetings exchanged between him and Ash until finally, blessedly, the show cut to a commercial.

"We don't have much, Xartoc. Ash has one lead she's better equipped to follow up on, but I need to find a doctor with access to a deep tissue scanner."

[Jade_Tarem]

March 13, 327 Lost Era
Treasure Hold - Citrine Level
Afternoon

Ash rolled her eyes as 'Xartoc' laid out his view of how things were going to go. It involved abiding by the law, working for one's fair share, and playing by the rules, all of which combined to form a platform the psychic had never voted for. 100% Nope.

"Okay, dad. Speaking as one of the two people who didn't show up to a friendly meeting armed to the teeth, I invited you to meet us because you seemed vitally interested in that drive core. I don't have it, and I don't know who does, but I intend to find out, and that's the long and short of it. I guess we'll call you if we need to punch an asteroid into submission...?"

[Tychris1]

March 13, 327 Lost Era
Treasure Hold - Citrine Level
Afternoon

Xartoc stared at Ash, the light reflecting off his helmet perfectly aligning to show a reflection of Ash in it as he leered closer. His palms flat on the table, his voice approached a dangerously low level that was rather uncharacteristic from the way he was acting and speaking earlier. It took on a harsh and sharp edge, and though Ash couldn't see his face, he was clearly emitting a aura of frustration and irritation.

"I don't think you understand madam, my help is non negotiable. I broke my rules and killed an officer in the line of duty when I helped you get away. That's innocent blood on my hands, and the only way I can attone for that is if I prove his sacrifice wasn't in vain and fix this emergency. Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way, but eitherway I'm here for the long haul. Got it?"

Pulling his head back up, Xartoc's voice returns to its overly masculine and chipper tune as he sits straight up in his seat.

"I think we'll get along just great, so, you need a doctor? I think I can help with that."

[Jade_Tarem]

March 13, 327 Lost Era
Treasure Hold - Citrine Level
Afternoon

"What?" Ash shook her head. "Buddy, I don't know what you did at the precinct after we left, but you didn't kill anyone." She snatched the remote up off the table and flipped away from the latest exploits of time travelers and evil twins, back to the news. The reel was much the same as it had been all day, only now it was complete with Talking Head Analysis and speculation about the sensor specter that had been seen around the ship, and what part it could play in this. "See that? They're talking about all the property damage, some injuries, and how much trouble the captain is in. If there was a dead guy, his face would be front and center - cops dying heroically in the line of duty is ANE's fourth favoritest thing in the galaxy, right between terrorist plots and important people having sex."

The psychic relaxed a bit and some of her good humor recovered. "Besides that, though, I wonder what you're going to bring to an investigation effort. Being an eight foot tall armored action hero doesn't do much except announce us to the entire ship, everywhere we go. Whoever *did* steal the drive core is clearly not intimidated by PALADIN, the Officer Corps, and all of their power armor and mobile suits, so if they see you coming - and they will - they'll just pack up and move." She gestured at the armor. "Still, you clearly can own and maintain your own suit of military surplus. Are you planning to finance this deal?"

The con woman wrestled with the question of whether or not to just go digging for his identity. His surface thoughts were partly in disarray, and the rest was uniformly unhelpful - on the outermost level, the man truly thought and acted as though he was Xartoc, which hinted at some solid method acting, some level of mental instability, or both. She could probably fish out his name if she really tried, but that kind of probe could not only expose her to some of his crazy, but might reveal more about her that she was willing to part with. Plus, psychic contact highs were certainly a thing, and she didn't want that right now, either.

She settled for living with the mystery, at least for the moment. She'd save the psychic treasure hunt maneuver for when she really needed it.

[Snowfire]

March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon
Kira's House



"I think...the minefield is there, whether I join you or not." Adriana's hand reached out again, clenched in Kira's, and the cultist's eyes darkened. "In front of all the Novitate-Elects, the Novitate threatened to push me down to Initiate for speaking out. For standing my ground against what...what has become more and more obviously a corrupted system. I know that...that for both of you, what I am, what I believe, seems ludicrous. To worship an AI, how absurd. How silly. How meaningless. But the fact is that the Navigator did choose, of her own accord - as far as anyone can tell - to alter the course of the Aeternus. She chose, of her own accord, to seal herself away, to shift what parts of the ship were navigable, to keep herself aloof. And now there is...something, or someone, rocking this foundation. Is it her? Is it someone who wishes to harm her? Someone who wishes to help? No one knows. As a Novitate-Elect, my job is to spread the word of the Navigator, certainly, but..."

She sighed, and pulled her hand away. Much as she would like another hug - and, perhaps, to just sit in it for a while - there wasn't time for sentiment. There wasn't time to cry or to be upset, any more.

"I don't...know if you both understand the full gravity of what it means, that the Novitate threatened to strip my rank. The only way I can lose the rank of Novitate-Elect is...is if I have been treasonous to the Order. If he believes, already, that I am treasonous, then helping you certainly won't make my situation any worse, will it...?"

She looked up at Damien, then over to Kira. One barely more than a stranger, one a dear friend. There were so many responsibilities she felt...so many ties. She could trace them throughout the ship. Acolytes who believed that the Navigator truly was branching out, creating Coderunners and Immersives to support her message, to connect more widely. Initiates who joined on the promise of a new and reinvigorated cult, one that kept records, that sought answers, that reached out to the common person instead of locking themselves away. And Novitate-Elects who joined in secret, rallying under a banner of changing winds.

"We all walk through a minefield. There's no escaping that. I'd rather walk through it with people I trust than blindly seek answers from a den of corruption."

"Then at the very least, I'd have you know a bit about where you step." Kira sighed, then access the room's holo circuits and activated a projection of the analysis she'd completed minutes before. A haze of graphs and charts shimmered to life above the table between them, and Kira leant forward, speaking with the clipped tones of one trained. "I ran an analysis on call headers and directionality within the House of the Navigator. Nothing illegal, no boundaries breached, just analysis of available data. Whilst all this," she gestured at the haze of data, "might not seem like much, it creates a picture. And...it's not a happy one, Adriana." The use of her full first name, so rare between them, would - Kira hoped - serve to show how serious this was.

"These calls here, and the message frequency between..." she shook her head. "The specifics don't matter. It's what it all means. And... Adri, the Cult isn't just a minefield right now, it's a spark short of bursting into flames." She couldn't help the worry in her voice as she said that. Adri was her friend, and for all that she didn't quite...'get' the idea of worshipping the Navigator, she could understand at least a little the power of faith. And so she worried, for although it was of a different medium, she understood the terrible danger of power. After all, the existence of CAS protocols were a result of an awareness of that danger.

"And yet there is so much you could do to help us. As before, we need a liaison with the Ship Council, someone who can act as a channel to ensure that we have what we need from them when we need it. Yet more, as the general liaison for this entire venture, I could use that person being a friend. And someone I trust to do the right thing, despit how hard it is to do so." She brushed the mess of tables and graphs away into invisibility again, and looked around at friends from very different places, both come to aid her and hers in their task.

"And..." she almost shied away from this, not wishing to involve herself in the complexities of Cult politics. Yet, again, Adri was her friend. "I can't pretend to understand exactly where your belief comes from, Adri. But I respect it, and I...I understand what has driven you, I think." She was possessed of a sudden urge to hug her friend, but she squelched it. Not the time, not the time... but - no, she could find one later. "If anyone is a traitor, Adri, it isn't you. Not if the ideals you've espoused to me so many times are truly those that the Cult meant to spread." She reached out again, unsure if she should try to take the hand or simply offer.

"If that's heresy, then the Cult is sick."

[Tychris1]

March 13, 327 Lost Era
Treasure Hold - Citrine Level
Afternoon

Xartoc was at a loss of words as Ash flicked the television over to the news and revealed to him his innocence. He mumbled incoherently for a second before finding some basis for synthesizing basic sentences. "So you mean I didn't, but that doesn't, I saw him get thrown into a building just as it burst into flames," he paused for a second, looking away from Ash and towards the screen "well I'll be damned, he's one tough son of a gun then." Drumming his metallic fingers against the table, Xartoc mulled over this news some more and then shook his head. "Well actually I don't own or maintain this armor. It was a gift granted by the great blacksmith Nyllanath for defending Hu'Rosha from the Celestial Dragon Tzeltutelcan. The magic runes carved upon it maintains it from injury." Xartoc smiled underneath his helmet at the absurdity of what he just said, even if it was just rehashing the backstory of the Xartoc movie.

"That is not to say however that I am totally limited to fighting things. For starters I can defy gravity and the laws of physics with my wings of liberty, propelling me faster then any hovercar could. Aside from that I also have exceptional senses and detection. I accessed law enforcement communications alongside others, and made for my dynamic entrance-" Xartoc stopped speaking abruptly as something could be heard vibrating from within his armor. Coughing, he looked down to his wrist and then back to Ash "Sorry this will only take a moment." And with that he stood from his chair and walked outside in a hurry.

Safely outside, Xartoc looked about momentarily before darting down a desolate alleyway and peeling back his gauntlets hidden compartment and retrieving his phone. When not in active use his armor folded itself into a transport ready backpack, a rather convenient feature that he still wasn't entirely sure of why it existed, and when he unfolded it the contents held within would somehow be seperated and contained in multiple compartments throughout his armor (A fact he learned when vodka started spilling out of his greaves one night). He looked at his phone to see who was calling, vacantly thinking it was probably a telemarketer, and was surprised to see it was his old manager Gary.

"Hey Winston how're you doing!" Wilbert grumbled angrily for a second, Gary never was great with names, despite the business greatly supporting such a skill, and so he curtly corrected him "Wilbert. Anyway, Gary what are you calling me for? I'm kind of busy right now." If Gary could detect any malice he certainly didn't make it obvious as he continued blindly in an overly chipper and smarmy tone "So Willis I'm calling because your pitch for Xartoc 2: The Prowessing finally got picked up by an uhhh Frenceaú L'mors, yeah that's it. You heard of him right?" Wilbert paused for a minute, his fingers tingling and his lips quivering in excitement. Was this finally his chance at returning to the stage and reclaiming his throne in the eyes of popular media? "Hey Wallace you still there?" Snapping back to reality Wilbert rushed to answer, his voice carrying on a new found energy he hadn't felt in years "Yeah I'm still here. So does this mean we'll be recording soon? The movies almost finished all we need is-" Even as he spoke he thought more on the issue, was this really what he wanted? He couldn't just give up the current life he was leading, and moonlighting as a Vigilante is easier when the public eye isn't breathing down your neck. "Yeah about that.... Frenceaú wants more "Artistic Liberty" with the license, take it in a new direction he says. Make a more serious and dramatic performance, so... He's hired someone else to be Xartoc."

If Wilbert could afford to replace his phone he would have crushed it in his hand that instance. "I am Xartoc! This is bull and you know it!" his voice rose to a barely controlled snarl, a mother bear staring down a poacher coming for her children. "I know I know Wilfred! Calm down, it wasn't my call! I'm just calling to let you know that since you have a controlling interest in the property that it's up to you on whether or not you want to sell the rights. Now as your former agent I'll gladly negotiate the arbitrary paperwork and the details of the agreement for you, with your best interests in mind." Wilbert struggled with the thought, he longed for the days of ease and opulence he once had, fame and money in equal supply. But those memories were only fond because he shared it with the love of his life, and in the end his own obsession with stardom is what killed her. It was a poison, one that he was addicted to, used to, and proficient in the self application of. He spent his whole life brewing it just to shove it down his wife's throat. What he was doing now, it was different, and he could feel it in his bones. People in the past called it a crusade, manifest destiny, fate, whatever it was Wilbert felt it expressed through Xartoc.

He was done pretending to be Xartoc. He was Xartoc.

"Listen Wayne I know it's a lot to think about so I'll give you a few-" "Make the deal, but make sure I get a crapton of royalties from everything they do with my brain child. Don't hold back, rip every penny out of them. Good luck George, and call me back when you've got my money." "It's Gar-" And with that Xartoc hung up the phone and slid it back into his gauntlet. His conviction and determination towards truth, justice, and all things righteous now reaffirmed he strode back into the bar with a renewed vigor, pride and purpose flowing from his very pores. He pulled out his chair, spun it so that if faced backwards, and plomped his mechanical derrière on it.

"Sorry for the intrusion, lady liberty needed me for a minute. But to answer your original question, money isn't going to be an issue, whatever you'll need it for I'll handle it. Sound good?"

[Kitsanth]

-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Afternoon
Tube to Deck-166


As Rikki scrolled through her messages, the Wristcomp Zyn was on displayed a 3D galaxy map he was working on. Particular attention was paid to the colours of the galaxy; the nebulas, stars, planets and so on. In the middle of the stars, Zyn's 'avatar' so to speak walked onto the screen. This time he was wearing nothing but a skirt, his intricate tattoos glowing a cool green as he adjusted the detail on his muscles. It seemed he'd been getting into some old comics and chosen to appear similarly to a character with a slim but well muscled appearance. His black hair hung to below his waist for once, braided and tied with a red silk ribbon. Zooming in on the blue star he had seen earlier, Zyn scowled lightly at some minor detail as he played with the colours. It seemed he was concerned more with aesthetics than accuracy. When Rikki spoke, Zyn turned to face her and zoomed the galaxy map out again. Opening a private communications channel he 'said', "If it were then they should not have been so... so..." Zyn found himself with multiple word possibilities though none by themselves worked well and he could hardly send all of them at once. Shrugging he continued, "I would not be surprised to learn the goal was not to find the blueprints but to cause ship-wide problems. There may be very important people pursuing this and that may be just what they want." Zyn's tattoos pulsed an uneasy orange as the stars began to slowly spin behind him as he processed multiple possibilities and discarded each one. "It seems most likely to me that this will affect many." With that, he turned around and closed the galaxy map. Opening one of his completed tracks, he began creating an abstract 3D image to go with it while Rikki continued to scroll through her messages.

The image was little more than a patch of blue barely large enough to see when Rikki played back the message.

"Some of what was lost has been found. The map exists. The ship can't hide itself from itself. Find the map. FIND THE BLUEPRINTS."

Zyn raised an eyebrow and tapped his chin in thought. His tattoos glowed a steady purple as he did so. Turning toward Rikki he sent another message on the private communication channel, "Well, I can see where the confusion comes from. But... Ah." Zyn's tattoos brightened to a cheery blue, "I think this is ominous! But we are almost at the station! I am still looking forward to Canasta." Zyn beamed, unaware that the act of smiling does little to nothing to hide the worry on one's face.

327 L.E. March 12th
Late Afternoon
Cepheus Tavern

Deck 166, Umbriel Shopping District, Cepheus Tavern. This out of the way locale was where Rikki had first made the acquaintance of the mysterious Colonel and been inducted into the Invitational High-Stakes Gaming League. Since that day she had been back a few times, usually for a hand or two of canasta.
Strolling into the vaguely familiar tavern, she was surprised to recognise several of the patrons. Deck 166 was not exactly her usual haunt after all. Rikki soon made her way towards Maybourne's preferred table, making sure to point out the few people she knew to Zyn.

'This is Terrence,' she sent, silently indicating a balding middle-aged man, 'he's one of my more frequent clients. Runs a velosiped dealership and is a bit paranoid, seems to think youths are conspiring to deface his merchandise... probably due to the fact that his security system frequently goes down.'

Her progress across the room was momentarily impeded by a kind-hearted elder who asked how Rikki's day had been, insisted that she take this hand-knitted scarf and reminded her that she had a grandson who she like to introduce Rikki to... to which Rikki said her day had been fine, graciously accepted said scarf and declined the offered comm number. A few minutes later - during which Rikki continued to deter matchmaking attempts - the elderly lady left, but not before reminding Rikki to not stay out too late.

'Oh and that was Judy. She's a nice old lady, asked me to track down her lost pet a few months back... She keeps inviting me over for tea.' Rikki mentioned, a little perplexed, 'And somehow she's always here when I am. Which is a little odd... must be a regular here.'

'And that's Ashmet at the bar, I haven't been by for a few months so I don't know her well yet. Magell doesn't seem to be here at the moment though,' Rikki glanced about, as if the owner would suddenly appear. 'He's a Ra'Zaph, so meeting him is sure to be interesting if you ever get a chance.'

[Netjester]

March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon
Kira's House




"Then at the very least, I'd have you know a bit about where you step." Kira sighed, then access the room's holo circuits and activated a projection of the analysis she'd completed minutes before. A haze of graphs and charts shimmered to life above the table between them, and Kira leant forward, speaking with the clipped tones of one trained. "I ran an analysis on call headers and directionality within the House of the Navigator. Nothing illegal, no boundaries breached, just analysis of available data. Whilst all this," she gestured at the haze of data, "might not seem like much, it creates a picture. And...it's not a happy one, Adriana." The use of her full first name, so rare between them, would - Kira hoped - serve to show how serious this was.

"These calls here, and the message frequency between..." she shook her head. "The specifics don't matter. It's what it all means. And... Adri, the Cult isn't just a minefield right now, it's a spark short of bursting into flames." She couldn't help the worry in her voice as she said that. Adri was her friend, and for all that she didn't quite...'get' the idea of worshipping the Navigator, she could understand at least a little the power of faith. And so she worried, for although it was of a different medium, she understood the terrible danger of power. After all, the existence of CAS protocols were a result of an awareness of that danger.

"And yet there is so much you could do to help us. As before, we need a liaison with the Ship Council, someone who can act as a channel to ensure that we have what we need from them when we need it. Yet more, as the general liaison for this entire venture, I could use that person being a friend. And someone I trust to do the right thing, despit how hard it is to do so." She brushed the mess of tables and graphs away into invisibility again, and looked around at friends from very different places, both come to aid her and hers in their task.

"And..." she almost shied away from this, not wishing to involve herself in the complexities of Cult politics. Yet, again, Adri was her friend. "I can't pretend to understand exactly where your belief comes from, Adri. But I respect it, and I...I understand what has driven you, I think." She was possessed of a sudden urge to hug her friend, but she squelched it. Not the time, not the time... but - no, she could find one later. "If anyone is a traitor, Adri, it isn't you. Not if the ideals you've espoused to me so many times are truly those that the Cult meant to spread." She reached out again, unsure if she should try to take the hand or simply offer.

"If that's heresy, then the Cult is sick."


March 12, 327 LE
Late Afternoon
Kira's House

Damien looked up as Kira said that the cult itself was sick; waves of emotion rolling off Kira like what he imagined an ocean must have felt like, threatening to suffocate him for a moment. He wanted to con himself into believing he didn't feel what he just felt coming off the Immersive. Does she even know...? There was feeling there, for Adriana, and if Damien didn't know better, he'd say it was-- ...Everything makes sense. And I'd wager two months commissions that she doesn't even know what she's feeling yet... Everything fell into place-- the reason an Immersive would possibly weather someone who was in the Order. That strange, irritating little emotion called love.

Fingers raised; stroking against his chin as he leaned forward, eyes pulsing a slow viridian hue as he stared down at the table. "I... Somewhat understand things, with the Order-- but I never felt that there was... Anything, something outside of the hundreds of thousands of instances I've built. No... Presence, watching over me. Maybe you all felt something, so I can... At least, attempt to understand; given my almost living fulltime in Dark-Sim."

He sat up; running broad hands through his braids before looking up at Adriana. "With regards to your rank, I understand, in a way. The RAMJets operated in a similar way-- except, instead of stripping you of rank..." Damien's hand closed in a fist above the back of his head, giving a quick tug for a moment. "They didn't brook informants very well. And why would they? Unlike your Order, they wanted to keep what they'd found for themselves." A wry, mirthless smile spread across Damien's face. "Chica's right, Kira. We're all traipsing through a minefield. I think she could be helpful."

To the mission, and possibly, to you.

[TheDarkDM]

March 13, 327 Lost Era
Treasure Hold - Citrine Level
Afternoon

As Xartoc exited the bar with nary a word of explanation, Shelly leaned closer to Ash.

"Listen, I know he helped us at the precinct, but is it really wise to take advantage of a crazy man like this? What if the voices in his head start telling him that we're criminals again?"

[Jade_Tarem]

March 13, 327 Lost Era
Treasure Hold - Citrine Level
Afternoon

"I just wanted him gone!" Ash kept her voice down, but some distress still got through. "He's taking advantage of himself. I gotta tell ya, that's a new one for me."

[Rain Dragon]

327 L.E. March 12th
Late Afternoon
Cepheus Tavern

Deck 166, Umbriel Shopping District, Cepheus Tavern. This out of the way locale was where Rikki had first made the acquaintance of the mysterious Colonel and been inducted into the Invitational High-Stakes Gaming League. Since that day she had been back a few times, usually for a hand or two of canasta.
Strolling into the vaguely familiar tavern, she was surprised to recognise several of the patrons. Deck 166 was not exactly her usual haunt after all. Rikki soon made her way towards Maybourne's preferred table, making sure to point out the few people she knew to Zyn.

'This is Terrence,' she sent, silently indicating a balding middle-aged man, 'he's one of my more frequent clients. Runs a velosiped dealership and is a bit paranoid, seems to think youths are conspiring to deface his merchandise... probably due to the fact that his security system frequently goes down.'

Her progress across the room was momentarily impeded by a kind-hearted elder who asked how Rikki's day had been, insisted that she take this hand-knitted scarf and reminded her that she had a grandson who she like to introduce Rikki to... to which Rikki said her day had been fine, graciously accepted said scarf and declined the offered comm number. A few minutes later - during which Rikki continued to deter matchmaking attempts - the elderly lady left, but not before reminding Rikki to not stay out too late.

'Oh and that was Judy. She's a nice old lady, asked me to track down her lost pet a few months back... She keeps inviting me over for tea.' Rikki mentioned, a little perplexed, 'And somehow she's always here when I am. Which is a little odd... must be a regular here.'

'And that's Ashmet at the bar, I haven't been by for a few months so I don't know her well yet. Magell doesn't seem to be here at the moment though,' Rikki glanced about, as if the owner would suddenly appear. 'He's a Ra'Zaph, so meeting him is sure to be interesting if you ever get a chance.'


-- Zyn --
327 Lost Era | March 12 | Late Afternoon
Cepheus Tavern



[It's so noisy] Zyn sent to Rikki as they made the short trip from the Umbriel Tube Station to Cepheus Tavern. To an AI who had never been in an environment noisier than the room where Rikki's home PC was, the Tube must have been loud enough let alone the bustling Shopping District. Thankfully, the pair were soon in the relatively quiet Cepheus Tavern. The low chatter was barely noticeable over the reggae tune which was currently playing in the central area of the tavern. Ashmet smiled and waved at Rikki before sliding a large mug of ale down the counter to a customer. Zyn was finally able to make use of his resources more efficiently now his newfound audio capabilities weren't bombarding him with data. He stored some of the things Rikki said and discarded others as idle chatter. [How strange. I would think youths typically have more appealing things to deface, such as walls or the sides of larger vehicles. At least, judging from the photos of graffiti I have seen.]

Zyn was just able to start a second process while Rikki was preoccupied with the old lady. Listing various potential issues with the Courier Bot they picked up earlier may seem an exercise in futility, but a properly indexed list should at least enable Zyn some perspective. He'd never repaired something like this before, after all. When Rikki mentioned Judy, Zyn replied jokingly, [Perhaps she is following you.]

While he was creating, trimming and reorganising some new files he'd started on the Cepheus Tavern he listened to Rikki's introduction of Ashmet. Pausing a moment at mention of Magell he asks, [What is a Ra'Zaph?]