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  • 📅 July 2024 is YE 46.5 in the RP.

[Open RP] Welcome to The Kikyo Sector (YE 45)

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The Thirst Trap
Ternifac, Yamatai


The bartender, a green-skinned alien from a random unknown alien species, nodded to Arro and came over to her, serving her a large chilled tumbler glass of ice and poured a bottle of gun into it. "Here you go," she said with a smile, sliding the drink over to Arro. "Enjoy." Arro could see there was a screen nearby showing live footage from the Mecha Combat League where a giant robot was kicking the ass of another mecha out in the Jhuniata Desert.

Ichaet replaced Taharial's glass as well, flashing a smile of sharp shark-like teeth.
 
Arro held her cybernetic hand out and caught the drink, "'preciated," she said, nodding in appreciation at the bartender's prompt service before raising the glass to her lips and tipping it back. Having set her expectations low enough for a synth rat to struggle under, she was pleasantly surprised by how smoothly the drink went down, enough that she paused to savor its rich flavor. Compared to the questionable swill in Nepleslia's slum bars, this was primo -- nothing rancid like battery acid or engine fluid to "enhance" the flavor. It was almost a tragedy when Arro set the glass down and saw only chunks of ice left, and she fished out a few to snack on on the off-chance that they still had some of the gin's flavor hanging on.

While she (loudly) munched down on her ice, Arro watched the latest League match once she remembered how much of the season she'd missed over the months in training. Leaning forward to get a marginally better look, the Nepleslian's red cyber-eyes were soon clouded by displays of data about the current combatants, miles of information that only a die-hard fan would care about. It took an explosion that superheated an entire dune into molten glass to snap Arro out of her analytical stupor, another beautiful reminder of such machines' awe-inspiring power. "Now this is a rum bout," she muttered quietly, unable to look away for fear of missing a second of action.
 
Erika had gotten lost amongst the twisted alleyways. She was dazzled by the neon lights advertising all sorts of fleeting pleasures, the small store fronts selling obscure antiquities and delicious but unhealthy smelling food, the cables that haphazardly ran from domicile to domicile. This was still Yamatai, but it was so different from the motherland she had experienced before. It could be easy to forget the agent hadn’t long since stepped out of the vat, her training taught her to exude an aura of confidence along with imparting a unique perspective that sometimes made her seem wise beyond her years. At that moment, however it might have seemed as though the feline DNA injected into her genetic composition was in control as she wandered through the streets like a cat following a laser light, her drone bobbing along behind her. The only thing that gave away her nature was the NSP pistol stored in a shoulder holster and concealed by a jacket.

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She did eventually make it to the bar, and her disposition changed slightly for a moment. As she opened the door her eyes scanned the faces in the crowd for anyone looking suspicious, the shape of their clothing for if they could conceal a weapon and looked for additional exits. As the reflex passed, she homed in on the woman with the cotton candy hair glowing like a beacon in the neon light.

In intrusive thought came to mind, to squat down behind Poppy with her index finger extended, though Erika quickly pushed that out of her mind. The last thing she wanted to give the newly minted doctor was carte blanche to preform basic procedures in the most uncomfortable and invasive ways possible.

Instead Erika decided to get herself a drink first, coming to the side of a particularly loud Nepalesian to place her order. “The house Honjozo Sake, warm please.” She said to the green woman tending the bar when she heard the loud Nepalesian sitting beside her mouth something quietly. Erika looked at her, then followed the woman’s transfixed gaze up to the screen.

“What’s the score?” The operative asked, having no idea what she was actually watching.
 
Sanda looked a little embarrassed for just a moment before shrugging it off. She remembered now that Nara had just been an independent contractor at Gashmere. There had been several thinking back on it. Although Nara had probably been the most useful of all the non-Star Army personal there. "Well, you fought with the same level of skill, determination and honor that I come to associate those in the Star Army so I guess that's where I was confused." Sanda smiled as she complemented Nara. "Yep, I'm still in. Finally earned my NCO stripes after Gashmere so I'm probably going to stick with them for the foreseeable future. It's really good see you again Nara. I hope we run into one another again sometime." With that Sanda returned to the bar where she had left her bottle of Rum.
 
Arro jumped a little when a woman spoke up right beside her, and by reflex, she gripped the empty glass a little more tightly. The Nepleslian regarded the pointy-eared stranger with eyes that flitted up and down her person; there were plenty of places to conceal a weapon, but Arro let herself relax regardless. Ganger assassins didn't typically announce their presence. "Ayano's ahead," Arro nodded at the screen, "Damasica ain't trained for th'desert. makin' themselves look like Ben Darbies out there," she smirked at the comedy unfolding on-screen. Even teams of the best and brightest could get too confident in themselves, it seemed.
 
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Her charges dispersed, the Uesureyan Chūjo smiled to herself, with a wry sort of twist at the corner where her asymmetrical expression arched a little higher than the other side. More than cognizant of the eyes that fell on her, and no less aware, thanks to her long, keen Nekovalkyrja ears, of the whispers that inevitably followed amongs at least a few of those eyes. Thankfully, a senior flag officer is already used to the surreality of cynosure.

Straightening her shoulders, nose and chin up, Chūjo Annapuma strode, with the poise of confidence and purpose, across the taproom floor, a double-fingers' width above the floor through subtle use of Nekovalkyrja gravitational control, as if to magnify the attention. Coming up to the nearest empty spot at the bar, she floated back down to the floor and leaned over the bar at her diminished, but still taller than the typical Nekovalkyrja height.

The admiral gave smiling, nodding, shallow bows of her head to everyone nearby before she settling against the bar, particularly to any Star Army of Yamatai personnel. She inhaled, paused, looked around, then slapped both hands down on the bar with a wide grin and announced to anyone and everyone present, "Well, it's almost like no one here realizes an Uesureyan Chūjo used to be a Yamataian Shōi who came to Ternifac on leave!"

"Delsaurian, and make it old– very old. I'm good for it, I didn't close my NBY account when I ran off with the Emperor. A pour for these Yamataian soldiers here at the bar with me too, if they want it!"
 
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The operative had training in body language and what she just saw was, in her estimation, a fight or flight reflex. For a simple ice breaker, it was a little extreme. Within her own mind there was an internal debate going on; should she delve a little deeper or let sleeping dogs lie. She was off duty after all. As her drink was placed down in front of her she decided to open the door.

“Bit jumpy aren’t we? You expecting trouble?” The operative said, a soft smile on her features.

Almost as soon as Erika closed her mouth a flag officer decided to make her presence known. The operative turned from the woman for a moment to give the announcing officer a salute.

“Chūjo Annapuma-sama! Arigatōgozaimashita!” She said energetically, more than willing to claim a free drink “The chaos I leave in my wake this evening, I do so in your name!”

Erika then turned back to the woman apologetically. “Sorry about that. A flag officer offers to cover your tab for the night its plain rude to say no.”
 
Arro would've told the stranger to stuff the questions, but the booming voice of an authoritative Star Army woman made the Nepleslian woman forget her hostility and stand at attention. If months of training had taught Arro anything, you always paid loud voices the utmost respect. In unison with the operative, Arro saluted the admiral and sounded off stiffly, "Chūjo Aynapuma-sah-mah! Areegatowgozamashituh!" Unfortunately, her thick accent prevented her from mirroring the other woman perfectly. Try as she might, Arro could never quite get her tongue to flap like the Yamataians; it was like an allergy, or a mental block. She returned to her seat after deciding against making any grand declarations in the admiral's name.

"Ain't wise t'let yer guard down in a slum-town," Arrow said, popping another ice cube into her mouth and shifting it into her cheek like a chipmunk storing an acorn. "Seen good coves stuck dry that way. Now I know we're comrades, so I ain't worryin'." It was a lie, Arro couldn't just trust someone that easily, but it'd be too exhausting to carry on talking if this woman thought she was nervous. "M'name's Arro."
 
“Erika.” The woman with the silver mane replied. “And I wouldn’t be too concerned.” Erika said, looking forward before taking a sip of her drink. “This bar is known to be frequented by Star Army personnel, and we’re on the mother world. There are a few criminal elements here,” The operative said, her eyes making a discreet scan of the bar, noticing a few patches and clothing items on some of the patrons which were secret markers declaring their allegiance, “but if they did anything to anyone, and they happened to be one of us, it has a high risk of drawing the Empress’ eye. An event probably just above a Mishhuvurthyar invasion on the list of things they want to happen.” Erika then smiled, looking back at Arro. “Unless you’ve personally aggrieved someone, you should be fine. Not saying there aren’t idiots,” She shrugged “but you’d generally see it coming.”



Erika then chuckled “And now I’ve said that I’ve jinxed myself, so if anyone gets laid out tonight it will be me. Your safe.” She then knocked back half the glass of sake.



“So, we’re comrades huh?” She continued after placing the glass back on the bar “What’s your posting? If you don't mind my asking.”
 
The level of safety that Arro's fellow soldier, Erika, described, was entirely foreign to a former slum dweller. It was the truth, Arro couldn't deny it after all her time on Yamatai, but that was the frustrating thing about human emotions--they defied all logic that was plainly evident. Security was a luxury for most of her life, and there was still a lot of adjusting to do. "Yea, yer right," the Nepleslian admitted, a wry smile forming. "Still adjustin'." She was grateful that her ignorance wasn't earning Erika's mockery. "Anyone picks a fight with yer, I'll be the ones layin' their fool arses out." Arro slapped the other woman on the back to reassure her.

"Ain't been told yet, but I'm figerin' it'll be in space. M'space infantry," Arro explained, "You?"
 
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The slap on the operatives back was stronger than she was anticipating. Her eyes went wide as she moved to prevent the Sake in her hand from spilling, succeeding save a few drops that splattered on the bar. She then recovered gracefully, turning back to the newly minted SA soldier.

"I'm in Mergers and Acquisitions," Erika replied, her smile matching Arro's "Currently attached to the Resurgence. And I appreciate it." The operative sighed "Been away from the security of the motherworld for a while. I'll admit I have a bit of an issue switching off when the opportunity arises these days." She took another sip of her drink. "Its getting scary out there. Teach me to wish to live in more interesting times, eh?" Erika finished with a chuckle.
 
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"Mergers 'n akwah- akwahzisshuns?" Arro's accent made it difficult to echo the name of Erika's department, and her general ignorance made understanding its role even harder. After a minute of thinking, she said, "D'ya get things 'n stick 'em together? Bombs? Guns?" That would explain why she was gone from Yamatai for so long, and why switching off could be hard. "Y'don't act high-strung for someone who's got 'er hands on bombs all day."

At least Arro could relate to Erika's attitude, if not her outlook. "Always was scary, jus' gettin' scarier," The Nepleslian popped another ice cube into her mouth. "Leasht th'army's fulla badasses that're easy on th'eyes," through her gruffness, a mote of appreciation could be heard in Arro's voice. "Hard t'be scared with big guns on m'side."
 
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"I took an EOD and demo course recently as a matter of fact!" Erika said with an excited chuckle. "A calm disposition grants a steady hand, and you need one if you're going to work with explosives. But not exactly. I'm..." She paused, lifting a thoughtful finger to her chin "Part of an expeditionary team. We go out and investigate derelicts, enemy fortifications and abandoned facilities for intelligence and technology to 'acquire' and send back to SARA or SAINT for analysis."

To the second part she chuckled "Ketsurui has an eye for aesthetics, I'll say that." Erika then chuckled again "Or was I programed to say that?" The operative then sighed, inwardly debating if she should share her experiences with the rookie, which would potentially leave her more rattled than she already was. Forewarned is forearmed Erika thought. "Our main advantage over our enemies is training, in my opinion. Don't underestimate the enemies technology just because its not as sleek as Yamatai's. Rippers are becoming a main stay of the Mishhu force comp. Fortunately the Zombies aren't the brightest, the commandeered NH-29s aren't bad though and you'll rarely know who is under the visor."
 
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