They're screaming for sanctuary,
They're screaming at you,
Lock up the wolves!
- Ronnie James Dio

MISSION 10 - START!!

Two weeks had passed since the five minute plan against the Zeroes had taken place on Nepleslia Prime. The Crimson Kestrel was drifting in Yamataian space for a change, somewhere where you didn't have to worry about another bounty hunter jumping on him or another convoluted scheme trying to entrap the ISC Phoenix. Of course, Luca was toeing the line on this rule, but he wasn't operating in Yamataian space, instead he declared his reason for entering as: "Holiday, I need one. Just tell Iza, she'll know. Read the headlines."

'Joker' Captain Luca Pavone's ribs had healed from their previous injuries at Nepleslia prime, and his message to the public (a blatant publicity grab in retrospect) had filled in lots of details, and silenced his critics as he and his compact team had diverted a massive terrorist disaster.

However, clouds still hung over what Captain Pavone's exact motivations - even after so many years they were still something of a mystery. Women, wine and song were simply aftereffects of his illustrious career and he seemed to regard them with relative indifference, letting his father manage his financial details. The brand name that'd sprung up around him and his crew wasn't the exact focus of his attention either. Questions still remained as to his exact motivations. His public image and well intentioned actions were not in question, just why he fought.

-

It was a quiet morning in the Captain's quarters, just an hour away from sunrise on Yamatai, and Luca was dreaming - his mind had been simmering on something ever since the pitched battle on Nepleslia Prime.Luca woke up confused, rolling over scratching his head and nuzzling his pillow. He couldn't get back to sleep, and glanced at the the clock. Still half an hour until wake up. He didn't find Naoko immediately, and figured that she woke up earlier, or was invisible. He eventually rolled out of bed, took a shower, and got dressed in a casual pair of tracksuit pants. He took a drink of cold water to wake himself up a little further before having a cup of tea with a dab of milk and two sugars to wake him up even more.

He looked down at the bandages on his chest. The ribs beneath them had healed fully, but the bandages still remained as a reminder, however temporary they were about to become. John was sitting in the loungeroom, with a cup of coffee in his hands and working on the crossword in the morning news feed.

"Y'know, Luca, I've been wondering." He said as he tried to figure out what 13 Down was. Luca raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of tea and gave him a nod to continue, "Between the three satisfied customers you've left in your wake since Nepleslia Prime, and possibly more in college and beyond, do you think you've left a legacy of paying child support for the rest of your life?"

"Dunno," Luca said, "Nobody's come forward yet, and I have the feeling that now that my face is all over the news, they might come and collect. I'd be happy to hurl some cash their way. I need something worthwhile to spend all the money from Phoenix Energy on."
"What are you, some sort of charity?" He figured out 13 Down, and pencilled in 'ATTACH'. He took a sip of coffee.

"Bullets aren't always what I give out free of charge, John," He raised his mug and gave him a wry smile, "I've got an image to maintain as both a lover and a fighter." John tapped his pencil against the volumetric page and then pencilled in 12 Across: 'TERROR'.
"Well, isn't that wonderful?" John interlaced his fingers, "A killer with a conscience." He looked down and noticed that his answer for 12 Across on his volumetric suddenly got turned into: 'PENISES', and he looked at the security camera and gave it the finger, directed to Echelon, who giggled.

"I never said I didn't have one to begin with - it was always there," He refuted. John decided to be quiet, erase Echelon's meddling and let the rest of the ship's occupants wake up. Sebastian and Anna were sleeping in.

As if being summoned, Naoko appeared wearing a booted, gloved, black and red bodysuit that looked suspiciously like something a motorcyclist might wear to the track. It cleaved to her, very nearly skin-tight, though she didn't appear uncomfortable with it; her braided hair trailed behind her, weaving and bobbing back and forth innocently enough, but the very tip - where she'd laced in something that looked like a mostly transparent crystal - looked sharp, and mildly dangerous. No surprises there; in fact, for someone who had no problems running around naked as the day of her birth, she even seemed overdressed.

There was only one oddity; the nekovalkyrja carried a briefcase at her side.

It was pink.

Without ceremony, she deposited it on the couch, half-tossing it.

"Ohayo," she offered to the room's two prior inhabitants, no trace of sleep in her voice or her glance at all. If she'd heard them - if she'd been tapped into the same wire as Echelon - she showed no sign, though Luca might have caught an extra second or two of her glance, anyway. "What's for breakfast?"

“Ernie requests more care with the treatment of this platform.” The robot interrupted as it was uncaringly dumped onto the sofa. It small slow opened on the front and its orange LED eye peered out from inside. It saw Luca and John sitting around.

“Good morning, sirs.” it greeted the two with a subtle bob of its sensor cluster from inside its case, before turning its attention back to Naoko.

“If Miss Aihara requires nutrition, Ernie is equipped with two small energy chocolate convenience bars for crew comfort.” the little robot piped up, ever trying to be helpful.

"I..." A soft voice was groaning from behind the couch. "I'll take the two energy bars, luggage-head."

Enzo sat up from his position on the floor behind the couch. The clinking of beer bottles below him made it obvious what he'd been doing sleeping in the crew lounge. The criminal mind was dull and the criminal's hair was dishevled. All he had for clothes at the moment was a pair of pajama pants, a tank top with a faded picture of a wolf emblazoned on the chest, and his obligatory sidearm; hanging from a bandolier this morning. He stood and leant over the couch, still clutching a half-emptied beer bottle in his left hand.

"Give 'em here." He said, sticking out his free hand. The easy smile and the puffy eyelids gave it away almost instantly at this point: Enzo was still a little drunk. Off-handedly, he tipped the beer bottle up and drank most of what was left before leaning further over the couch with a contented smirk.

"Everybody looks so pretty this mornings. Yous all beens avoidin' Enzo 'cuz he's ugly, hadn't yous guys?"

The robot remained where it was, its slit hole narrowing slightly.

"Ernie has determined that crewman Enzo has had enough nutrition already." the robot replied.

Enzo narrowed his eyes and shifted over to the briefcase. He emptied the beer bottle in his mouth and sat it unceremoniously on top of Ernie before lighting a cigarette.

"You greasy little gearbox." He started, "Nuttin' solid has passed through these lips in the last twenty-four hours but a single piece o' celery. An' that was comin's out! I don't even remembers eatin' celery!"

The little eye looked op, trying to see the bottle on top of it, it's slit narrowing to almost look like it was glaring.

"Ernie advises intravenous rehydration and a review of daily dietry needs." The robot replied, its monotone voice betraying no sarcasm.

Naoko stopped.

She didn't just stop - she paused midway to the lounge's fridge, where the alcoholic beverages were kept chilled (or whatever was left of them after Enzo's small battle against the ranks of bottles). Then she turned, slightly, her ears gyrating as if they were ancient TV antenna, trying to get rid of snow in the signal. Whatever she found gave her a cattish smile.

Resuming her initial sally, she opened the fridge.

A shard of glass zipped past her face immediately and buried itself completely in a hanging picture of some ancient orbital station, on the far wall.

Naoko plunged forward, shoving her arm deep into the fridge. There was a sound, like a thousand nails on a thousand chalkboards, crying out in primal outrage, summoning primeval and possibly even primordial justice, threatening to erase all thought. Something telepathic was screaming. Futile though it was.

Then it stopped, and was replaced with a much more regularly audible whining, chittering sound; a lobster clucking like a chicken.

Naoko pulled the mishhuvurthar youngling from the fridge, revealing the lancelike stingers plunged halfway into her forearm, through her jacket, and the squirming shell which the rest of the thing had retreated into, last-minute, in an effort to flee its captor.

If the neko had planned on saying anything else, on commenting on Enzo's drunkenness or Ernie's errant mistrustful thoughts, those plans were now ruined. With her other hand, she reached into the fridge and picked out an unshattered, unspoiled bottle of melon-infused vodka. Then she slammed the fridge door and, holding the youngling at arms length, made her way to the door.

The whole struggle had taken less than ten seconds.

Probably, the aftermath of this would take a lot longer.

Ernie had already made it the better part of halfway across the room by the time Naoko had caught the feisty baby Mishhuvurthyar, both guns drawn and processes giving Ernie the synthetic equivalent of crapping his quantum pants.

As Naoko walked casually with her vodka the little robot kept its guns trained on the creature in her hand, she would be able to tell that the little robot was already working up probabilities of attempted assassination and wondering just how it was going to security screen the entirety of the Phoenix fleet by itself.

Not only interested in the Vodka, but also the tiny Mishhuvurthyar; Enzo stumbled over to the fridge and swiped another beer before trundling after Naoko. On his way out the door, he stumbled around for a minute and signaled Ernie to come along.

"Let's go, Luggage-head." He said, already moving back through the door, "We gots to haves to have some fun withs this...I was wondering why that fridge kept trying to bite me last night."

The last evidence that he was in the room was clinking of the freshly pryed bottle-cap on the ground.