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RP: Cirrus Station [Episode 3] Sunny Day on Prilisa Four

"Shite, shite, shiteshiteshite." Cyril muttered. Nekos, just what they needed. Here they were, their only useful leadership figure bordering on panic, likely on the verge of being attacked by a horde of gun-toting fascists. This was shaping up to be a phenomenal fucking day. Well, he could at least try to do something...

"Horny, Slim," He said, looking at Shaastabar and Fitz respectively, mustering all of his four days seniority. "Would the two of you be so kind as to escort the Administrator back to the shuttle?" The two seemed to be the more combat inclined of his squad mates right at hand. And as much as he hated to admit it, Montreal was strictly speaking more valuable then the squaddies. Which meant getting her away from any furry eared minions of Yamatai that might happen to be lurking around at the moment.
 
Deacon's ears pricked at the sound of Cyril's voice over the comm. The unemotional frown he had been wearing while scanning the surroundings of the spaceport's entrance only deepened at hearing that something on the inside, something called a Neko, was threatening the lives of his crew. He was torn between wanting to go in and prove his worth by taking on these 'Nekos', and making sure the surroundings were safe for the Administrator's exit escort.

Finally, he reached his boiling point for sitting and doing nothing, and would cue up his comm for speaking with Lorcan who was just on the other side of the doorway.

"Hey! Guard the doorway and shout if anything moves. Something is inside, and I will go make sure that it hasn't gotten into that." The Kohanian pointed towards the shuttle.

The hyena then raised up onto digitigrade paws and began to stalk over towards the shuttle, putting the gun he had been given with the armor back onto the magnetic area of his pack, and pulled out the dual HHGs he had been carrying in holsters on his belt. After making sure that both were loaded with Mass Driver ammo, he held one ahead of himself, and the other at about a 45 degree angle to the side, and would slowly sweep them in a 180 degree arc in front of him, watching for any signs that the nekos had made it to the shuttle.
 
"What... the..."

She had read the briefings and tactical reports. Seen the scare programs, the action vids featuring wholesome Nepleslian marines against rampaging Nekos. Listened to her instructors back in training tell her that, quite possibly, the deadliest enemy she'd ever encounter were those cat-eared women.

And she stared at them. They were fierce, yes. But fearsome? Deadly? Rampaging, monstrously murderous? No, not yet.

The prisoners. Her eyes fixated on the prisoners. They were the top priority here. No weapons fire.

"What should we do?" she whispered over the proximity band. Her guts felt like ice, and she gripped her rifle tightly, keeping it lowered, but its butt pressed to her shoulder. She didn't dare do anything threatening. Even unarmed, they were still dangerous. Potentially deadly.
 
Serra responded to Kaz through her radio.

"If at all costs, try and keep them from my wings." She said, her voice marred with worry. "They're displaying tribalism traits and my feathers might make good headdresses."
 
Fitz was looking at some random paper in his hand when he heard the commotion from some distance away. Still holding said paper he walked slowly over to what was going on and happened to stand next to Shaastabar, who suddenly moved to a wall. Nekos? Could the Empire be behind this? Why would they be...

His thoughts were then interrupted by his orders, which also followed by the paper falling out of his hands, Fitz also nodded and said, "Aye aye," he stated and moved to help the rather large L. Binks back to his feet with his mechanical right arm. While doing so he said, "Comon guys, lets get you all in the shuttle."
 
Claire frowned as she watched everyone go from confused to two steps away from panic. 'be thankful for what you got... be thankful for what you got....' She took a deep breath and sighed. Much better.

Then she looked back up at everyone. They seemed even more disorganized than her team when the nekos first showed up. She felt a little bit of hopelessness at first, but reminded herself that, from what she had heard, they had gone through some strange things before and came out alright.

She watched her two companions (if they could be called that.) be ordered around. ".... Is there anything I can do to help? I'm armed at least." She held a rifle in her hand, the same kind carried by the rest of the squad.
 
The sudden appearance of other three security members and the big news apparently managed to shake Dream out of her confused state.

"Um." She pondered. "Um. Um. Um um um. What the HECK is the Yamatai military doing here?"

The question was directed at Clarie Winters, but Dream didn't really give her time to answer.

Finally, action. Something to do. She had been inactive too long, subject to the whims of the universe (such as atmosphere and gravity). Now, it was her turn.

She nodded sharply at Cyril's order. "Good idea. They might be dangerous. Real, you'd better go back to the shuttle with them and let us handle this." She said, casually ordering around the high-and-mighty boss of the Cirrus. To be fair it was more like a suggestion, honestly. "If they almost wiped out the Free State because one of us looked at them funny once, there's no way to tell what they might do." she added, grimly.

Then, pointing at Clarie: "You! You're..." A moment of pause to put her helmet back and check the name, and then "...See dot Winters." There'll be time to come up with an adequate nickname for her. Winter would be enough for now. "I'm Dream, squad 35 priestess. And you others..." Again the helmet went on and off. "...Binks and Resseti. Join our team for the time being. Let's go and join up with the others. Better to stay all together in here if there's the Yamataian military around."

And... she put on the helmet again. Both to visualize their position, and to communicate: "Yo, Serra, Tweak. Dream Here. Seems like there are Nekos in here, could be the Yamatai military. We're coming over to your location. Be careful."
 
Cassefin stared blankly for a moment as her workers conversed amongst each other, then abruptly huffed an over-exaggerated scoff.

"Nekovalkryja? What are you two troublemakers talking about this time?" Cassefin scolded the two, her tone betraying the apparent fact that this wasn't the first time Cassefin had the pleasure of their presence. The Head Administrator took another look around the complex, arms on her hips and expression as skeptical as ever. When she felt she had enough of the scenery, Cassefin crossed her arms and re-applied her feet firmly onto the white-tiled floor.

"The only problem I see here is a serious lack of work effort by the staff, and I'm not going anywhere until I get a lifting crew to put my cargo into my shuttle," Cassefin declared, nose high in the air. "If you all want to be of some real use, you have my permission to go find this lazy portmaster and bring him to me. I will move for nothing less."

---

It appeared as though talking amongst themselves wasn't the smartest thing to do in the presence of this mob of Amazon-esque cat-eared women. The lone neko sitting atop the highest rise of ceiling rubble immediately spread a canary-eating grin across her face and stood up, her kitchen-ware headdress jingling to and fro with her motions, stretching a single bare arm and slender finger in the direction of the security members.

"Nyaa NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!"

As the neko emitted her ominous, wordless cry, the swarm of nekos immediately began making mad dashes towards the exit, on two feet or all four limbs, taking leaps and bounds over rubble and prisoners alike, each shouting the same cry in ear-splitting unison as they closed in the distance in seconds.

"NYAA NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!"
 
Claire frowned at Cassefin, 'Every bit as stubborn as she's said to be I guess..' She sighed. "I think the loading is going to have to wait till we do something about the neko's. I don't know about you, but I'd rather not let the staff stay in their hands." She paused for a moment, then added; "Besides which, if we do, it'll make getting the cargo onboard a lot quicker and easier." She had decided to point out why this applied to her.

Her eyes turned to the spacer named Dream, an odd look on her face. She wasn't sure if she should be worried about her behavior or be amused by it.

The Neko's cry was audible all the way back to this room aparrently, as Claire jumped at the sound. "Shit, I guess this squad isn't one for stealth." She placed her second hand onto her rifle. It was that same cry that was heard when they first came and ironically, it was the only thing that saved the three from being stripped and hung on the wall like the others.
 
Shaastabar nods once, quickly, stows his rifle and stands, snapping his neck to the side with a myoclonic twitch indicative of nerves.

"Honored M. Real, please do accede to the lady's suggestion and accompany us back to the shuttle; it would be imprudent..."

His eyes meet hers and he continues:
"To leave important cargo out of the sight of...responsible personnel in a volatile situation. I am certain we can rest assured that the cause of the additional delay will be noted by all those present should you wish to make those responsible aware of your displeasure at a later time."

As compared to the vehement hiss of a few moments previously, his tones are positively silken; just low enough for a masculine register, just soft enough for an androgynous smoothness, every syllable enunciated in rolling, rounded orator's form.
 
"Oh, fuck this noise." Cyril muttered as he heard the screaming. Things were just going from bad to worse here. And of course, Montreal was being her usual thick headed self. At least Dream seemed to be snapping out of her terra firma induced stupor. If anyone here could deal with Montreal without butt-stroking her, it was Dream

Still, without missing a beat, he broke from his position and crossed the room at something just below a sprint. He dropped to his knees and slid the last few meters to the hall the howls had come from, stopping shoulder first against the wall. Setting his aim down the corridor, he opened the com without looking up from his sights.

"Oi, wazzit, ahh... Winters! Just what are we dealing with here? I don't know much, but I know that ain't the sound that a Mindy makes..." He said, asking the one present survivor of the first attack who actually seemed to know what she was doing, rather then Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum over there.
 
Tweak froze when she saw the nekos for the first time.

Immediately, the thought flashed through her mind: there were others like her? Of course. Her journal had an entry that said that she was a manufactured entity of the Star Empire of Yamatai. But still, she had no way of knowing how many of her kind there were...And there were so many of them here. They had cat-ears. And their physiology, as much as she could see, was very close to hers. There were some differences, but they were so very similar. She stared at the nekos, unsure what to do.

Then the apparent leader of the apparent leader of the cat girls let out that feral screech, and Tweak stopped thinking. There was only one thing she KNEW she had to do; her duty. Shoving Keziah and Serra ahead of her, Tweak turned around and began running back toward the main lobby.

"HOSTILES INCOMING!" She shouted into the general comm. With her course of action decided her TOS started rattling off tactical options, But most of them required the use of her abilities, and therefore were quickly discarded by the Freespacer's conscious mind. Her strength and speed, however, were fair game and she used them both.

When it became apparent that she was going to be pulling ahead of her squad mates, Tweak dropped behind those of them and ducked, carefully, but quickly picking them both up by wrapping her arms around their waists continuing to sprint down the halls. When they reached the doors she completed a perfect one hundred eighty degree spin while sliding through the doorway and fell to one knee. Setting Kez and Serra down on their feet, and reaching over her right shoulder with her right arm to snag her rifle and bring it to sight on anything that was following them down the hall. The entire maneuver was performed in a seemingly single motion and with the fluidity of liquid mercury.
 
It was a blur.

First, the screeching. The feral, wild noise coming from the mass of nekos. She froze as a chill ran through her entire body, her finger slowly pulling down on the trigger, carefully taking aim on the leader.

Then a pull, a shove against her armor and she was running and pounding her feet furiously on the floor as the women swarmed at them. Way, way too many of them. Bloody. Things were going to get very bloody. She could feel it in her gut--

As it tilted madly, wildly. Her feet still pounded, but hit nothing as the vertigo set in full-blast. But the world wasn't leveling, or tilting more crazily. Her face didn't fall flat, and she didn't stop. No, Tweak was carrying her. Carrying them. And running faster than Keziah could've managed on her own. What is she made of? The question ran through her mind over and over until they stopped, and she found her footing again. She turned around and raised her rifle.

That wasn't there. Must've dropped it when Tweak picked me up.

Keziah hesitated for only a moment before she reached to her back and pulled out her pistol, aiming it down the doorway as she thumbed off the trigger. "My rifle's back there," she said over the comm, hoping that the nekos didn't know how to use weaponry.
 
Claire flinched a bit as the noises stacked up of the neko screech and the overly loud footsteps of Tweak hauling ass with the other squadmates in hand. At Cyril's question she frowned, wasn't he listening? "Neko's dear. Small swarm of them. Feral from the look of them so I have my doubts if this really is Yamatai's doing.. as much as I don't want to admit it."

She sighed as she held her rifle closer to her. "Besides which, if it was, I would think they'd give them weapons and more to wear than things that the ladies at this dock might wear to bed." She gave a half smirk, but still a look of dread of what what was coming.
 
What are we to do now? was the question egging on Fitz's mind wondering what the hell that noise came from. Not only that, but his commander seems to be nearing the mad side of things, such as caring about her "cargo" at a time like this.

After lifting the large man back to his feet, he asked his commanding officer, "What if those things have the Postmaster ma'am? Do you expect us to blast though whatever the bloody things making that noise?" He was steadily becoming edgy, as this was his first actual combat experience, and it was Neko's of all things.
 
The group, newly joined together again, had little time to chat; the Neko's were hot on Tweak's tail and appeared around the corner seconds after Tweak's arrival. The swarm paused slightly as the sight of more intruders processed in their brains, but were quick to pick their momentum back up. Four nekos whom were leading ahead of the pack pounced forward as they neared, a quartet of lithe bodies careening towards Tweak, Dream and Keziah and Serra whom just so happened to be the closest targets.

George nearly jumped clear out of his skin when he caught sight of the impending swarm descending upon them from the hallway, and began frantically groping at Lenny to upright himself from his squatting position on the floor. "HOLY SHIT! Lenny, get up! GET UP! Help me with this goddamn door!" the small Nepleslian stammered and he pulled his ID-SOL companion towards the door they have previously been hiding behind.

---

Outside on the landing pad where Deacon and Lorcan had remained behind, the two lone security members would soon find themselves in a peculiar position. Two cat-eared women, in various states of Amazonic dress, appeared before them, having jumped down from the roof of the building. Fortunately, both of them landed with their backs turned towards Lorcan and Deacon, and seemed to not notice the two CSS members. Instead, the two curious cat women were cautiously examining Cassefin's shuttle. On occasion, they would converse with each other in an unknown language, but other than that the two of them just simply stared at the vessel as they circled it.
 
Cyril looked up from his sights long enough to give Winters a 'of course I know it's a fucking Neko' look through his visor. He had heard that much from Resseti. What he wanted to know is just what sort of kit to expect.

Of course, his question was answered both by Winters and by the appearance of four Nekos dressed like rejects from an low budget exploitation flick. He had been expecting Mindys, or those ridiculously porny skin tight uniforms in blue or black. A bunch of fucking Nekos in... the magnification in his eyes kicked up for a moment, throwing the milling amazons into focus. A bunch of fucking Nekos in what looked like clothing, and he used the term loosely, made from house hold goods hadn't even begun to feature in his assessment of the situation.

"What the bloody..." He began in befuddlement before mentally shaking himself. No matter how they were dressed, they were fucking Nekos. Even if Nepleslia was, despite the Yammy's best efforts, at peace with the Star Empire, Cyril would trust anyone of those psychopaths as far as he could throw them. And besides, Nekos weren't supposed to be in Nepleslian space, right?

"What're we looking at for numbers?" He asked, an open question for any of the people present who had actually seen the Nekos up close.
 
"Fuckin` Cowards..." Claire growled as she watched the two station men try to hide again. Then again they probably would've caused more problems if they'd stayed.

She either didn't notice Cyril's look or she simply didn't care. (More likely the latter.) At the appearance of the nekos, she raised her rifle and slowly backed away, hopefully out of range of the neko's lunge, which she had seen a less fortunate staff member get taken down by such.

At the sight of their garments she had to resist the urge to laugh for some reason. They certaintly didn't look like part of the Yammie army, but knowing how anal they were about keeping tabs on Neko's, one had to wonder if they knew about this group. And if not, how?

Anyway she kept her rifle trained to fire at whoever attacked first.
 
Deacon heard the yell over his comm, and immediately did the first, and most natural thing, he took off the helment and threw it as far as his arms could make it fly, watching it land over by the doors to the spaceport as he sat just inside the doorway of the shuttle.

After he had made sure none of the nekos had been inside, the Kohanian had holstered his HHGs, and sat down on a seat across from the door. But when the Nekos jumped down from the roof, he quickly moved out of the doorway and peeked around to watch them. They looked like the Nagual from his home planet. A little more human like, but the ears reminded him of home, and the dress only further made that assumption true.

Without his helmet to keep tabs on what the rest of the crew was up to, he would have to do this all on his own, at least until he could find a way to get the comm back. Desperate times, called for desperate and crazy action. So, in that vein, Deacon would look down at his armor and quickly began to try and get it off, or at the very least, roll the pantlegs of the khakis he was wearing over it, up to be more like shorts, on his body, then he would take off the green pull over that was standard issue for the Nepleslian military, tossing it onto the seat by the door. Finally, he would take his belt off, the HHGs with it, and would wrap them in the pull over. The knife he had brought from Kohana was kept though, tucked into the waistband of his pants, just above his tail.

Then, he would drop down to all fours, and with a gutteral growl, he would lumber to the door, eyes narrowing at the nekos as he would just sit ferally in the doorway, eyeing them cautiously, as if he were the guard dog of the shuttle. He would not advance, but neither did it look like he would be backing down from the Amazon like beings.

Goddess of the Wilds, watch over me and let this bluff work. He silently prayed in his head.
 
Well, Dream changed completely in a couple of second, as the social instincts hard-coded in her brain kicked in.
Give your life for those of your brothers and sisters.
From a shaken wretch still suffering from the shock of being on a planet for the first time in her life, slowly pulling herself together, to... well, to Dream. Full battle mode.

She closed her eyes (well, her eye) and let her neural interface link with the suit's systems.

A message flashed on the helmets of everyone in the squad: "HOLD YOUR FIRE (for now)".

She didn't think anyone in the squad was stupid enough to open fire first in such a situation, but it's FAR better to be safe than to be sorry.

Damnit. Those nekos didn't seem like they were able to understand language.
Dream didn't need to be an anthropologist to guess that they had somehow regressed to a tribal state. but, BEING an anthropologist (well, sorta) helped.
She had a plan.

Through her neural interface she sent a message into Tweak's helmet: "DO NEKOS HAVE NEURAL IMPLANTS? HOW DO I SEND INFORMATION TO THEM?"

And she hoped that Deacon would buy them enough time to figure out how to communicate with those crazy nekos.

Of course, killing them all was still a perfectly valid choice. Especially after what they did to the Great Lighthouse...
Dream gulped down and tried to ignore that thought. She wasn't a murderer. She was better than them.
 
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