Seven faces displayed various states of boredom and impatience. An additional nine were stone-faced, standing behind the seated individuals (with the two extra attending to an empty chair at one end of the table. The setting was a boardroom in a Starchaser, lavishly furnished as cruise ships tend to be. A seedy looking man with a comb-over pressed a few times on a datapad and summoned servers with trays of tea and snacks.
"Weren't expectin' caterin' at a meetin' like this," a burly woman with blazing red hair remarked, eying the trays of consumables.
"Yes, well, you're all guests on my ship. It would be. . ." the man started, eying a brown-haired Yamataian who'd already begun taking things off trays before they'd even been put on the table. "Rude, not to provide some refreshments."
"Good thing too. Where is Decker? It is unlike him to be late," the enormous Kodian at the table remarked, daintily taking a cracker and nibbling on it.
A pale-skinned neko who'd been waiting by the empty chair made eye contact with the bear. "He will be here. He is attending to two new applicants at the moment. One of which has production facilities."
The gartagen of the group, removed his respirator to pick up a deviled egg, and ate it with careful bites before putting the device back on his face. He tried not to make eye contact with the brown-haired Yamataian, who had moved on to eating the crackers very loudly and making crumbs everywhere. "And the other?"
"I don't know the specifics, but there's something about a very dangerous individual."
The red-head shrugged. "We're all dangerous here, kitty. Ain't nothin' new there."
"You would be surprised! Good evening, ladies, gents, and all those nonspecified!"
A man with gunmetal grey limbs entered the room, head obscured by a helmet that fit pretty closely to his head. His voice came out modulated, wavery but solid at once. "Our last two guests will be here soon enough, but welcome all! Glad we could finally all meet at once. Forgive me, but I'm going to save introductions until after our last two guests get here. Save us the effort of introducing everybody in the interest of saving time."
He took his seat at the head of the table, staring down the somewhat motely group before him. A Gartagen, a Jiyuuyan, a Kodian, a Nepleslian, a Yamataian, an Elysian, and a very, very quiet Freespacer. If there was an award for team diversity, Decker would be using it as a paperweight right about now.
"Oh, and a word of caution about one of our missing friends. She's an actual, goddamn walking nightmare. I don't mean she's the kind of person to drop somebody off a roof, I mean she's something that your kid comes up to you in bed because they think they saw her in the closet. So. . . yeah. Don't. . . get weird when she comes in. Or try not to. It's hard not to stare. Really hard."
"You're getting off track, sir."
"Right! So, business!"
A heavy metallic clinking against the deck sounded, muted into thudding as carpeting was met, muting the others sat. A heavy respirator sounded as a tall figure drew nearer, clad in white, stepping through the doorway. Her hair was ash gray and black, swaying like a lion's mane of smoke: carbon nanotubes lighter than air save for their length swirling floating with each step, becoming still and falling as she froze. She paused on the spot, legs locking.
Though undeniably feminine, her legs were painfully long to look at. Her body sickly pale, wrapped in bandages and then plated in transparent metals molded to give the impression of some epic physique save her arms, wrapped in some black synthetic muscle. Her feet were like hands, sprawled out: thumbs forming high heels, fingers curling into fists against the floor. Over her face sat a mask, that of a wolf skull: eyes white marbles, teeth bare. Carefully, her arms peeleled back, muscle becoming a second pair of arms, revealing thinner pale ones beneath. She pulled up a seat at her place and was seated in silence.
"Well, that's one down. Welcome!" Decker greeted, sending a wave to the horrible monster sitting across the table who nodded in return. Everybody else sat in silence, either staring at her or trying not to. Even the rude representative from Akachanbara was sent for a loop, a cracker falling out of his mouth mid bite..
"Do continue." the monster replied through an intense battery of deep vocalizers, synthetics and the respatory assembly conspicuously loud, "Please." Were her form beneath the clear panels not feminine, it would be hard to tell there were a woman at all beneath with the booming bassy barritone.
"We can hash out some of the details before the other guy gets here. He'll just have to get introductions later. I'll do all the introductions for you, so you all can save your breath. This lovely lady here is Darla, who runs the Darlings. They've got plenty of ground support for operations. Next to her is Hyun, and he's basically our PR. Also he's got the infrastructure for smuggling and yellow journalism, if we need it. Next is. . . wait, you're not the gartagen I spoke to."
"The one you spoke to was a CORE. They don't leave their pods very often," the alien responded. "I'm Vidiam. I'll be representing our fleet for now."
"Wish they'd told me in advance. Still, you garts are providing machine plants and armor for us, so I can't complain. Next, we've got Patroklos! Good ol' Patroklos! He's got a flock of birds in the sky. Space. Space sky. Basically he's got fighter ships. Jul Urs over there is our bear force-"
"BEAR FORCE ONE!" the Kodian bellowed, startling half the table. "You cannot say the name without shouting it. It's simply uncouth."
". . . uncouth, right. BF1 has got the heavy hitting land war engagements. Apparently you're working on artillery units too?"
The Kodian nodded.
"Good stuff! Keiske is our privateer rep for Akachanbara, and they'll be running smuggling runs and false flag operations. And our freespacer rep is Codemender, but you won't be hearing much from him. Her. It? They'll be dealing with our digital warfare. And lastly, we've got. . . Actually, come to think of it, nobody ever told me your name. Just nickname, which is pretty neat as far as nicknames go. 'The Eye'. Sounds ominous."
"I go by many names, as my followers see fit. My favourite happens to be Legatus Returner Vexillarus. A touch grandiouse but I find it endearing." A smile could almost be heard, like a mother with pride for her children. "Returner will do," there was faint laughter behind her helmet.
"Right. . . Your group, as I saw what you did to that cargo ship, specializes in boarding, yeah?" Decker tilted his head, lilting his tone behind his.
"That is correct."
"Now that introductions are out of the way, we have got to lay some ground rules for our coalition. I think the first one goes without saying, but if you act as a member of the GAO without hearing from me or my right hand-"
He gestured to the tall, bald fyuunen on the other side of his chair.
"I will find you and end you. Act how you want on your time, but you wave my flag, you play my game. Any problems with that?"
Keiske tilted his head back, cockily with a smirk. "Yeah, I got one. What do you got to give to make this business worthwile?"
Decker placed one hand on the chin of his helmet. "That's. . . actually a good question. Rumia, what DO we have?"
The neko beside him sighed.
"We have most of the heavy fabrication capabilities when it comes to weaponry, we have a plan, and an endgame that involves the reinstatement of the UOC - that includes free reign over those territories and trade networks, as well as full pardons for those involved and definite, legitimate jobs when the whole campaign is over. Most importantly ability to give anybody in this room a clean record across the board. Codemender is the expert in that field."
The machine nodded, and Decker held his arms up as if he'd made the point himself.
"See? Now doesn't that sound nice?"
"It does" Returner's voice sounded.
"Great! Ground rule #2: No killing civilians. Politicians don't count. Policefolk are a grey area. Hostage crises are okay."
"You make my job very difficult..." Returner rumbled.
"The more 'innocent' blood on our hands, the harder the endgame is. Become demonized enough, and suddenly the Big Three will stop at nothing to end you."
"Then perhaps it is in your interest I do not fly your flags, though I shall continue to act with you. In function, but not in name."
"Then you can be our black ops. I mean, I have the Rangers for that, but having you do the especially dirty work is probably in everybody's best interest. You look goddamn terrifying enough to draw people's attention - no offense, of course."
"None taken."
"Back on subject, scamming, conning, and threatening are all fair game - especially if you can get away with it without getting tracked. That's more Mr. Turtle's game, but I figured if any of you wanted to pull a heist, I should say it. Rumia, did we have anything else on the agenda for ground rules?"
"You covered the GAO flag rules, and the civilian rule. . . I believe that's all you told me."
"Huh. I could have sworn I had more written down somewhere. That'll have to be for our next meeting. Otherwise, you all have free reign - so long as you keep the main heat off you. If you get international attention drawn, I'm going to have to cut you off. Do try to keep things unnamed - except for you mercenaries. You uh. . . do whatever you want because people pay you."
Darla looked at Decker like he was making an idiot of himself.
Decker coughed nervously and rolled his neck. "Oh! Now I remember! The fuzzy guy!"
Confused looks echoed across the table.
"Thunderbird man? No that's not it. The uh, the energy drink guy. He's real. And he just curbstomped a ton of my recruits."
"Phoenix man?" the Jul Urs asked, black lips pursing in thought.
"One Luca Pavone and company. His media team has an office not far from mine, actually," Hyun said. "I think of him as the most dangerous individual in the universe, not to mention the eccentric company he keeps."
"Yeah, well, now he's got a taste for our blood. If you see him, rub him out. He's the kinda guy who will throw a wrench into the big machine unless we got engineers on duty," Decker sighed, rubbing his chin.
"Are you suggesting you rub against a zesuaium shard with your thumb? Motherfucker took out a mishhu battleship because he got angry," the Yamataian said.
"I know, I know! I've been doing research since he turned my Ranger candidates into paste! And uh. . ."
The masked man looked at Breaker, who was twitching angrily in place.
"Yeah we're not even going to talk about how he captured my right hand."
"Hell, is he even after us specifically," said the Yamataian, drumming their fingers, "or were we just in the wrong place at the wrong time?"
"We were, past tense, in the wrong place, but now he knows we exist. I wouldn't be surprised if he's got his own plan that involves his fist and whoever is in his way."
"Ain't nothin' a few explosives cain't solve," Darla laughed in her drawl. "I'll take a crack at him next time he tries to nose into our jobs. A fist of lightnin' ain't no match for armor made of combustion!"
"And it's times like these I'm thankful for our near-instantaneous interstellar travel! Just uh. . . be careful. Breaker had her rocket hammer and our. . . ex-candidate had that minigun that's also a shotgun, and that wasn't enough to turn the firebird to ash."
Returner cleared her throat quite conspicuously, the leathers and bandages of her attire creaking as she shifted.
"Perhaps, rather than facing him head on, we could persuade him."
"Persuade him? With what, merchandise? The guy's got a hundred and one reasons already not to like our little coalition here."
"The former UOC was more closely aligned with his personal ideals than the status quo. Similarly, your thoughts on civilians are likely to appeal to his sense of justice; you are honorable. He would like to believe he is honorable."
"So you're saying he isn't a squeaky-clean superhero? Sounds about right."
"The person we know him as is no more than a mirage of public relations to ensure he is marketable as a brand in order to ensure his operations are funded."
"Of course, he's also got a team with him. And they're a little harder to dig information up on, since their proxies in the media are. . . well, really cliche'd characters."
Decker dug up a set of photos taken from surveillance footage on the Ruica.
"Hell, for all we know he's actually monster with a good smile," the Yamataian chipped in.
"A man is no more than his legacy. I have heard talk a share of his company has been bought by a relatively infamous telecommunications company. A group who are far more concerned with their bottom line and abstract goals than they are their image. They could be our way into him."
"It seems that there are three children who travel with him," Jul said observing the photos from her end before passing them on to the Returner. "But otherwise, the lot look mostly human. Mostly normal."
The Yamataian looked at a photograph of what looked like a Fyunnen woman, passing it around to others.
"Nekovalkryja don't count as children. They're walking monsters in mostly-human clothing. No offense, Rumia."
His neko companion just sighed.
"There is another," Returner replied, tapping her fingers on the photograph when it came to her.
"Another what?" The gartagen leaned over to see the picture in Returner's posession. "She seems like some sort of ID-Sol hybrid. But her skin is. . . unusually coloured, if my knowledge of humans is right."
"At this time, nobody knows. Speculation wants to suggest they are a cyborg of some sort. Attempts to discern their origin have failed," she said, rolling pale fingers over the photograph, two thumbs clasping together like the play-stand of a piano with a tiny music-book.
"Some sort of Frakenperson or mutant, then?" The Yamataian shrugged. "Got plenty of those on Nepleslia, pumped full of augments or born wrong."
Darla shrugged. "Muties ain't too bad. Can be a problem if you're fightin' one with regenerative abilities."
"The good money says she's an outsider. An alien."
Keisuke drummed their fingers. "A real alien?"
"The real thing."
If helmets could convey emotion, Decker's would be reading a blank stare. "What do you mean, the real thing? Half this table is alien to me."
"Samples collected suggest she evolved with a genetic origin entirely unlike anything in known space."
The Yamataian threw up their hands, shaking their head. "Shit, and they're working for him. Guess he's got that market cornered."
A mechanical voice emitted from the droid in the room. "FURTHER OBSERVATION HAS CONCLUDED THAT SHE IS INDEED VERY, VERY DANGEROUS."
"No shit!"
"Hm?"
"SURVEILANCE FOOTAGE FROM MULTIPLE SOURCES HAS SHOWN THE ABILITY TO SHRUG OFF BALLISTICS WITHOUT TAKING DAMAGE. I HAVE NO DATA ON ENERGY WEAPON DAMAGE. SHE KEEPS NO PRESENCE ONLINE. IN OTHER WORDS, SHE MAY VERY WELL BE AN OUTSIDER."
"It looks t'me more like not givin' a damn, honestly," Darla rolled her eyes.
"There is a lot of evidence supporting this claim; her components converge with the Consortium assets I acquired several months ago."
"You have Consortium goods?" Decker asked.
"I do."
"Is it the big dangerous kind or the really nice shiny stuff?"
"Little column A..." she said, taking a long heavy breath through her respirator, voice deep and bellowing smugness as se tapped her nose, her dog-skull mask semingly smiling. It was always smiling.
The Yamataian straightened his collar, looking down at his datapad. "All this talk of outsiders and the energy drink peddler is an entertaining distraction," he looked up after noting that his shares had remained steady today, "but we should continue with business."
"Agreed" Returner responded.
"Where the hell is that guy. . . well, our last member is a politician who just lost an election, but they own production facilities like I mentioned earlier. I think he wants his opponent disposed of, but securing somebody like him in our pocket's a good investment into the future. Still, I don't want to put all of our eggs into that basket, so does anybody want to throw their hat into the ring?"
Jul nodded. "I can contribute if he wants it done noisily."
"I think my lack of conventional accountability could be useful" Returner added.
"Well, we'll see what he wants when he gets here. Maybe even a bit of both would be handy, who knows?"
"Cooperation is desirable."
"And I can get the troops in. My ships have free-flight license in the area, if this is that election that was on the news the other day," Keisuke said.
Decker clapped his hands. "I am so happy we're hashing this out beforehand because it is going to look REALLY impressive when he gets here and we've already figured everything out. Good work!"
No sooner had the GAO leader clapped his hands then the door to the board room opened and the final member of the meeting appeared. A handsome male Jiyuuian, clad in a very business-like attire: perfectly fitted white vest and pants paired with a deep green shirt and slim, purple tie. The former UOC sun emblem was barely noticable on a tiny tie tack that held it in place, and a suit jacket to match the set was slung casually over his back. The young magnate's brown hair was combed carefully in place yet a few pieces strayed attractively in front of his face along with the beginnings of a goatee at his chin, while a pair of blue eyes looked cooly ahead to the meeting laid out before him.
Those adept in reading people could tell something in that gaze smoldered, though, as Satoru spoke with a voice that was sauve and confident. "Greetings, gentlemen... and gentlewomen, of course," he paused, regarding the female members of the organization with a slight smile, before focusing back on their leader as he found the empty seat with the two attendants. "My apologies, Mr. Decker, to you and your associates for being behind schedule for our meeting. I had a few... loose ends to tie up."
"Looks 'bout what I 'spected," Darla said, "Maybe a bit younger 'n I thought."
"Well, it's finally good to have you here, now then. . ."
Decker took a minute to introduce everybody yet again, though sending the information on datapad might have been faster. "The less data about our gatherings, the better. Can't be too careful with SAINT and the IPG, after all."
The masked man took a moment to fold his arms over and stare down Satoru. or at least, angle his helmet in the general direction. "We assumed you wanted your opponent out of the senate seat, that correct?"
One by one as Decker's conspirators were introduced the new arrival listened respectfully, with a nod of his head to each in turn. "You certainly have an impressive slice of our universe here in this room, enough to catch anyone's eye." This comment was tossed in the direction of Darla, as well as the one called Returner who definitely stood out from her peers.
"Allow me to properly introduce myself, then," began the Jiyuuian, "I am Mitsuya Satoru, the CEO of Mitsuya Fuels and head of the Jiyuu Rengou political party."
Once that formality was out of the way, Satoru took a moment to consider Decker's metallic visage aimed his way. Meanwhile his hands reached into a pocket of the vest and produced a thin golden box. He flipped it open with a flick of the wrist to reveal a set of expensive cigarettes within, which he removed one carefully and placed it in his mouth. An equally fancy diamond plated lighter rose up to meet it, as he cupped his hands with a practiced motion and lit the end ablaze.
"So, you've heard the news, then..." The mere mention of the situation caused that smoldering spark to flash through his blue eyes again, as he dismissed it by taking a long drag of the illegal tobacco and exhaling a cloud of wispy smoke into the air before finally responding to the leader of the GAO. "Yes, one Mochizuki Shiori. You can forget any plans to restore the old colonial regime with her in power."
"Well, we've come up with two options. One is we have Returner's Aexalli come in quiet and do things under the radar, and the other is that, ahem," Decker said, massaging his throat before shouting in that modulated voice, "BEAR FORCE ONE!"
The Kodian in the room gave an approving nod.
". . . come in loud and proud to rain on Shiori's parade. We've got transport figured out for both potential teams, so ultimately you need to decide the kind of statement you want to make."
Decker knit his fingers together, taking a more focused stance in a lean forward.
"Do you want an accident or a show?"
The ideas presented were both intriguing to the Jiyuuian, who leaned back in the chair a bit. "Perhaps both -- a particular opportunity that your group could use has recently come to my attention."
"That being?" the Gartagen asked, suddenly taking an interest in the newcomer.
"Senator Mochizuki," he began, almost spitting out the first word, "She has quite a few campaign promises to fufill to the people who helped put her in power, but the most important one is not about jobs or pork barrel project funding. It's the fact she wants to create an entire home grown militia..."
Decker cocked his head. "So I'm going to just throw this out there, but let me take a wild guess and say. . . you want us to eliminate her, and then claim the project as your own and seed some of our guys in the ranks?"
Satoru removed the cigarette from his mouth and gave a sly smile. "You're very perceptive, Mr. Decker."
"Perception keeps people like us alive, Satoru."
It was hard to guess what his expression was beneath the mask, but one could feel a certain slyness to his tone that warranted a guess or two.
The politician nodded. "That being the case, a little birdie told me that the cornerstone of her project will be the acquistion of 40 Ayana class escorts that are currently mothballed in a surplus storage shipyard in Lorath space. It will be difficult, but I believe she has the resources and contacts to pull it off as a DATASS PR stunt, if nothing else."
"Ayana classes? That's surprising. I was sure that most of them were wiped off the slate of the universe when the Mishu smashed the UOC fleets. Still, that many Ayanas. . . both a blessing and a curse. Depends on who's in control, then."
"It's true that the NMX blackout destroyed nearly everything, but these were in Lorath hands at the time and decomissioned. It would not take much to get them flying again." He fingered the lighter in his hand for a moment, thinking. "What I am more concerned with is one in particular that you have to worry about."
"And in the hands of a loyalist, it means it's a whole mess of space-bourne problems on my turf. But please, continue."
"Yes, they would be accountable to Tenth Fleet if so," Satoru explained, "There is an Ayana-class escort dubbed the Kaguya that possesses an experimental MIKO module. I'm not sure what its capabilities truly are, but that is what she is really after according to my sources. It will be the first one brought out amidst much pomp and circumstance, no doubt."
"The tenth fleet? Augh, fuckin' hate those bastards!" Keisuke swore, earning him a glare from the Fyuunen at the end of the table.
"Regardless of personal feelings about the patrol fleet, an experimental anything is always bad news in my book. Worse than any senator, really. So here's the new plan. Bears go in loud and proud, and the Aexalli try to decommission, steal, or just straight up fuckin' blow this module sky high. That way the focus is on the poor little defenseless politician and frees up security around the module. "Otherwise. . . I'm going to start working on plans B, C, and D. This sort of thing reeks of trouble and I don't like leaving anything to chance."
The Elysian who remained silent for the duration of the meeting made a gesture to his retainer, who began to speak.
"The Steel Wings would like to offer services of a few bombers, if you deem it necessary."
"They'll need to go in first and park somewhere remote. I don't want anybody getting traced back to the Akahchanbara ship if things get flipped turn-ways. Sound good?"
Satoru rubbed his chin a moment as the motley crew started laying plans. It was unfortunate he had to go this route -- winning the election would have made his plans so much simpler. "All very good ideas. If things play out how I expect, Shiori will be holding some kind of maiden voyage public appearance, sake bottle in hand ready to unviel her vision. That would be the perfect time to strike. Generate chaos in the civilians attending the event and use it as a screen to go after both her and the ship before it can get off the ground."
The politician then took another puff of his cigarette before adding, "I would do it myself, but I can't have such a thing directly connected to my organization. Public relations are already a mess."
"I understand. Media representation is. . . incredibly important. We'll handle the civilians with nonlethal methods, but once they clear which in my experience is about two minutes at most, all bets are off."
Decker gave a pointed nod to the machine-person in the room to continue.
"I WILL HANDLE THE EMERGENCY RESPONDER SITUATION. OUR FOUNDRIES WILL PRODUCE THE JAMMING AND FALSE CALL EQUIPMENT BEFOREHAND. NO CHANCES TAKEN. AT LEAST ONE GOAL WILL BE /FULLY/ ACHIEVED."
Satoru leaned forward onto the table, satisfied by the response from the Freespacer and his helmeted boss. "Speaking of foundries... there is also the matter of payment for taking care of this matter for me."
"Ah yeah. Normally, I'm a half before, half after sort of guy, but given the service-based nature of our arrangement, let's call it our reward for completion. Sound about right, everybody?"
Numerous nods met him, some more certain than others. The ones who weren't even involved in this particular job were the most noncommital.
The defeated candidate contemplated something for a minute, rubbing his chin. "A reward for completion, yes. But since I'd like to see you succeed, I'm willing to sweeten the deal. You may have access to one of my Stellar Link platforms in Asura for refueling and repairs, as long as my company's civilian operations are not impacted and you keep a low profile. Complete the job, and I will give you access to two of them."
He smiled thinly. "That's 20 production bays, able to build just about anything you like from a compressed helium container to as large as a Seiza-class starship."
"That is a fair deal. Fractal, how soon can you have an alternate set of credentials for Keisuke's ships?"
"WITHIN THE HOUR."
"Great. We're going to need to borrow one of those facilities to manufacture flash-paint. You'll understand when you see the stuff in action, but it's some amazing material. Keisuke, I want your ship ready ASAP. Jul, Returner, just uh. . . coordinate with him and Satoru for timing things. Otherwise, everything's settled then?"
The group seemed to know what they were doing, and coordinated well. Still, it was one thing to plan and another thing when it came down to brass tacks, as he had recently found out in his political struggles. "I will know soon when the event will be held... it's only a matter of time after all. Senator Mochizuki wants to shock and awe her constituents... let's give them a show they'll never forget." Satoru relaxed with a vaguely smug look and leaned back into the chair, taking another huff of his cigarette. The end smoldered red, just like the fireworks he was hoping for to put an end to his troubles.
Turnabout Jazz Soul - The Steel Samurai
"Weren't expectin' caterin' at a meetin' like this," a burly woman with blazing red hair remarked, eying the trays of consumables.
"Yes, well, you're all guests on my ship. It would be. . ." the man started, eying a brown-haired Yamataian who'd already begun taking things off trays before they'd even been put on the table. "Rude, not to provide some refreshments."
"Good thing too. Where is Decker? It is unlike him to be late," the enormous Kodian at the table remarked, daintily taking a cracker and nibbling on it.
A pale-skinned neko who'd been waiting by the empty chair made eye contact with the bear. "He will be here. He is attending to two new applicants at the moment. One of which has production facilities."
The gartagen of the group, removed his respirator to pick up a deviled egg, and ate it with careful bites before putting the device back on his face. He tried not to make eye contact with the brown-haired Yamataian, who had moved on to eating the crackers very loudly and making crumbs everywhere. "And the other?"
"I don't know the specifics, but there's something about a very dangerous individual."
The red-head shrugged. "We're all dangerous here, kitty. Ain't nothin' new there."
"You would be surprised! Good evening, ladies, gents, and all those nonspecified!"
A man with gunmetal grey limbs entered the room, head obscured by a helmet that fit pretty closely to his head. His voice came out modulated, wavery but solid at once. "Our last two guests will be here soon enough, but welcome all! Glad we could finally all meet at once. Forgive me, but I'm going to save introductions until after our last two guests get here. Save us the effort of introducing everybody in the interest of saving time."
He took his seat at the head of the table, staring down the somewhat motely group before him. A Gartagen, a Jiyuuyan, a Kodian, a Nepleslian, a Yamataian, an Elysian, and a very, very quiet Freespacer. If there was an award for team diversity, Decker would be using it as a paperweight right about now.
"Oh, and a word of caution about one of our missing friends. She's an actual, goddamn walking nightmare. I don't mean she's the kind of person to drop somebody off a roof, I mean she's something that your kid comes up to you in bed because they think they saw her in the closet. So. . . yeah. Don't. . . get weird when she comes in. Or try not to. It's hard not to stare. Really hard."
"You're getting off track, sir."
"Right! So, business!"
A heavy metallic clinking against the deck sounded, muted into thudding as carpeting was met, muting the others sat. A heavy respirator sounded as a tall figure drew nearer, clad in white, stepping through the doorway. Her hair was ash gray and black, swaying like a lion's mane of smoke: carbon nanotubes lighter than air save for their length swirling floating with each step, becoming still and falling as she froze. She paused on the spot, legs locking.
Though undeniably feminine, her legs were painfully long to look at. Her body sickly pale, wrapped in bandages and then plated in transparent metals molded to give the impression of some epic physique save her arms, wrapped in some black synthetic muscle. Her feet were like hands, sprawled out: thumbs forming high heels, fingers curling into fists against the floor. Over her face sat a mask, that of a wolf skull: eyes white marbles, teeth bare. Carefully, her arms peeleled back, muscle becoming a second pair of arms, revealing thinner pale ones beneath. She pulled up a seat at her place and was seated in silence.
![ai.imgur.com_N6flGNT.gif ai.imgur.com_N6flGNT.gif](https://stararmy.com/roleplay-forum/data/attachments/3/3646-11dd28d65ce28d3192a43daa77b0c32b.jpg?hash=Ed0o1lzijT)
"Well, that's one down. Welcome!" Decker greeted, sending a wave to the horrible monster sitting across the table who nodded in return. Everybody else sat in silence, either staring at her or trying not to. Even the rude representative from Akachanbara was sent for a loop, a cracker falling out of his mouth mid bite..
"Do continue." the monster replied through an intense battery of deep vocalizers, synthetics and the respatory assembly conspicuously loud, "Please." Were her form beneath the clear panels not feminine, it would be hard to tell there were a woman at all beneath with the booming bassy barritone.
"We can hash out some of the details before the other guy gets here. He'll just have to get introductions later. I'll do all the introductions for you, so you all can save your breath. This lovely lady here is Darla, who runs the Darlings. They've got plenty of ground support for operations. Next to her is Hyun, and he's basically our PR. Also he's got the infrastructure for smuggling and yellow journalism, if we need it. Next is. . . wait, you're not the gartagen I spoke to."
"The one you spoke to was a CORE. They don't leave their pods very often," the alien responded. "I'm Vidiam. I'll be representing our fleet for now."
"Wish they'd told me in advance. Still, you garts are providing machine plants and armor for us, so I can't complain. Next, we've got Patroklos! Good ol' Patroklos! He's got a flock of birds in the sky. Space. Space sky. Basically he's got fighter ships. Jul Urs over there is our bear force-"
"BEAR FORCE ONE!" the Kodian bellowed, startling half the table. "You cannot say the name without shouting it. It's simply uncouth."
". . . uncouth, right. BF1 has got the heavy hitting land war engagements. Apparently you're working on artillery units too?"
The Kodian nodded.
"Good stuff! Keiske is our privateer rep for Akachanbara, and they'll be running smuggling runs and false flag operations. And our freespacer rep is Codemender, but you won't be hearing much from him. Her. It? They'll be dealing with our digital warfare. And lastly, we've got. . . Actually, come to think of it, nobody ever told me your name. Just nickname, which is pretty neat as far as nicknames go. 'The Eye'. Sounds ominous."
"I go by many names, as my followers see fit. My favourite happens to be Legatus Returner Vexillarus. A touch grandiouse but I find it endearing." A smile could almost be heard, like a mother with pride for her children. "Returner will do," there was faint laughter behind her helmet.
"Right. . . Your group, as I saw what you did to that cargo ship, specializes in boarding, yeah?" Decker tilted his head, lilting his tone behind his.
"That is correct."
"Now that introductions are out of the way, we have got to lay some ground rules for our coalition. I think the first one goes without saying, but if you act as a member of the GAO without hearing from me or my right hand-"
He gestured to the tall, bald fyuunen on the other side of his chair.
"I will find you and end you. Act how you want on your time, but you wave my flag, you play my game. Any problems with that?"
Keiske tilted his head back, cockily with a smirk. "Yeah, I got one. What do you got to give to make this business worthwile?"
Decker placed one hand on the chin of his helmet. "That's. . . actually a good question. Rumia, what DO we have?"
The neko beside him sighed.
"We have most of the heavy fabrication capabilities when it comes to weaponry, we have a plan, and an endgame that involves the reinstatement of the UOC - that includes free reign over those territories and trade networks, as well as full pardons for those involved and definite, legitimate jobs when the whole campaign is over. Most importantly ability to give anybody in this room a clean record across the board. Codemender is the expert in that field."
The machine nodded, and Decker held his arms up as if he'd made the point himself.
"See? Now doesn't that sound nice?"
"It does" Returner's voice sounded.
"Great! Ground rule #2: No killing civilians. Politicians don't count. Policefolk are a grey area. Hostage crises are okay."
"You make my job very difficult..." Returner rumbled.
"The more 'innocent' blood on our hands, the harder the endgame is. Become demonized enough, and suddenly the Big Three will stop at nothing to end you."
"Then perhaps it is in your interest I do not fly your flags, though I shall continue to act with you. In function, but not in name."
"Then you can be our black ops. I mean, I have the Rangers for that, but having you do the especially dirty work is probably in everybody's best interest. You look goddamn terrifying enough to draw people's attention - no offense, of course."
"None taken."
"Back on subject, scamming, conning, and threatening are all fair game - especially if you can get away with it without getting tracked. That's more Mr. Turtle's game, but I figured if any of you wanted to pull a heist, I should say it. Rumia, did we have anything else on the agenda for ground rules?"
"You covered the GAO flag rules, and the civilian rule. . . I believe that's all you told me."
"Huh. I could have sworn I had more written down somewhere. That'll have to be for our next meeting. Otherwise, you all have free reign - so long as you keep the main heat off you. If you get international attention drawn, I'm going to have to cut you off. Do try to keep things unnamed - except for you mercenaries. You uh. . . do whatever you want because people pay you."
Darla looked at Decker like he was making an idiot of himself.
Decker coughed nervously and rolled his neck. "Oh! Now I remember! The fuzzy guy!"
Confused looks echoed across the table.
"Thunderbird man? No that's not it. The uh, the energy drink guy. He's real. And he just curbstomped a ton of my recruits."
"Phoenix man?" the Jul Urs asked, black lips pursing in thought.
"One Luca Pavone and company. His media team has an office not far from mine, actually," Hyun said. "I think of him as the most dangerous individual in the universe, not to mention the eccentric company he keeps."
"Yeah, well, now he's got a taste for our blood. If you see him, rub him out. He's the kinda guy who will throw a wrench into the big machine unless we got engineers on duty," Decker sighed, rubbing his chin.
"Are you suggesting you rub against a zesuaium shard with your thumb? Motherfucker took out a mishhu battleship because he got angry," the Yamataian said.
"I know, I know! I've been doing research since he turned my Ranger candidates into paste! And uh. . ."
The masked man looked at Breaker, who was twitching angrily in place.
"Yeah we're not even going to talk about how he captured my right hand."
"Hell, is he even after us specifically," said the Yamataian, drumming their fingers, "or were we just in the wrong place at the wrong time?"
"We were, past tense, in the wrong place, but now he knows we exist. I wouldn't be surprised if he's got his own plan that involves his fist and whoever is in his way."
"Ain't nothin' a few explosives cain't solve," Darla laughed in her drawl. "I'll take a crack at him next time he tries to nose into our jobs. A fist of lightnin' ain't no match for armor made of combustion!"
"And it's times like these I'm thankful for our near-instantaneous interstellar travel! Just uh. . . be careful. Breaker had her rocket hammer and our. . . ex-candidate had that minigun that's also a shotgun, and that wasn't enough to turn the firebird to ash."
Returner cleared her throat quite conspicuously, the leathers and bandages of her attire creaking as she shifted.
"Perhaps, rather than facing him head on, we could persuade him."
"Persuade him? With what, merchandise? The guy's got a hundred and one reasons already not to like our little coalition here."
"The former UOC was more closely aligned with his personal ideals than the status quo. Similarly, your thoughts on civilians are likely to appeal to his sense of justice; you are honorable. He would like to believe he is honorable."
"So you're saying he isn't a squeaky-clean superhero? Sounds about right."
"The person we know him as is no more than a mirage of public relations to ensure he is marketable as a brand in order to ensure his operations are funded."
"Of course, he's also got a team with him. And they're a little harder to dig information up on, since their proxies in the media are. . . well, really cliche'd characters."
Decker dug up a set of photos taken from surveillance footage on the Ruica.
"Hell, for all we know he's actually monster with a good smile," the Yamataian chipped in.
"A man is no more than his legacy. I have heard talk a share of his company has been bought by a relatively infamous telecommunications company. A group who are far more concerned with their bottom line and abstract goals than they are their image. They could be our way into him."
"It seems that there are three children who travel with him," Jul said observing the photos from her end before passing them on to the Returner. "But otherwise, the lot look mostly human. Mostly normal."
The Yamataian looked at a photograph of what looked like a Fyunnen woman, passing it around to others.
"Nekovalkryja don't count as children. They're walking monsters in mostly-human clothing. No offense, Rumia."
His neko companion just sighed.
"There is another," Returner replied, tapping her fingers on the photograph when it came to her.
"Another what?" The gartagen leaned over to see the picture in Returner's posession. "She seems like some sort of ID-Sol hybrid. But her skin is. . . unusually coloured, if my knowledge of humans is right."
"At this time, nobody knows. Speculation wants to suggest they are a cyborg of some sort. Attempts to discern their origin have failed," she said, rolling pale fingers over the photograph, two thumbs clasping together like the play-stand of a piano with a tiny music-book.
"Some sort of Frakenperson or mutant, then?" The Yamataian shrugged. "Got plenty of those on Nepleslia, pumped full of augments or born wrong."
Darla shrugged. "Muties ain't too bad. Can be a problem if you're fightin' one with regenerative abilities."
"The good money says she's an outsider. An alien."
Keisuke drummed their fingers. "A real alien?"
"The real thing."
If helmets could convey emotion, Decker's would be reading a blank stare. "What do you mean, the real thing? Half this table is alien to me."
"Samples collected suggest she evolved with a genetic origin entirely unlike anything in known space."
The Yamataian threw up their hands, shaking their head. "Shit, and they're working for him. Guess he's got that market cornered."
A mechanical voice emitted from the droid in the room. "FURTHER OBSERVATION HAS CONCLUDED THAT SHE IS INDEED VERY, VERY DANGEROUS."
"No shit!"
"Hm?"
"SURVEILANCE FOOTAGE FROM MULTIPLE SOURCES HAS SHOWN THE ABILITY TO SHRUG OFF BALLISTICS WITHOUT TAKING DAMAGE. I HAVE NO DATA ON ENERGY WEAPON DAMAGE. SHE KEEPS NO PRESENCE ONLINE. IN OTHER WORDS, SHE MAY VERY WELL BE AN OUTSIDER."
"It looks t'me more like not givin' a damn, honestly," Darla rolled her eyes.
"There is a lot of evidence supporting this claim; her components converge with the Consortium assets I acquired several months ago."
"You have Consortium goods?" Decker asked.
"I do."
"Is it the big dangerous kind or the really nice shiny stuff?"
"Little column A..." she said, taking a long heavy breath through her respirator, voice deep and bellowing smugness as se tapped her nose, her dog-skull mask semingly smiling. It was always smiling.
The Yamataian straightened his collar, looking down at his datapad. "All this talk of outsiders and the energy drink peddler is an entertaining distraction," he looked up after noting that his shares had remained steady today, "but we should continue with business."
"Agreed" Returner responded.
"Where the hell is that guy. . . well, our last member is a politician who just lost an election, but they own production facilities like I mentioned earlier. I think he wants his opponent disposed of, but securing somebody like him in our pocket's a good investment into the future. Still, I don't want to put all of our eggs into that basket, so does anybody want to throw their hat into the ring?"
Jul nodded. "I can contribute if he wants it done noisily."
"I think my lack of conventional accountability could be useful" Returner added.
"Well, we'll see what he wants when he gets here. Maybe even a bit of both would be handy, who knows?"
"Cooperation is desirable."
"And I can get the troops in. My ships have free-flight license in the area, if this is that election that was on the news the other day," Keisuke said.
Decker clapped his hands. "I am so happy we're hashing this out beforehand because it is going to look REALLY impressive when he gets here and we've already figured everything out. Good work!"
No sooner had the GAO leader clapped his hands then the door to the board room opened and the final member of the meeting appeared. A handsome male Jiyuuian, clad in a very business-like attire: perfectly fitted white vest and pants paired with a deep green shirt and slim, purple tie. The former UOC sun emblem was barely noticable on a tiny tie tack that held it in place, and a suit jacket to match the set was slung casually over his back. The young magnate's brown hair was combed carefully in place yet a few pieces strayed attractively in front of his face along with the beginnings of a goatee at his chin, while a pair of blue eyes looked cooly ahead to the meeting laid out before him.
Those adept in reading people could tell something in that gaze smoldered, though, as Satoru spoke with a voice that was sauve and confident. "Greetings, gentlemen... and gentlewomen, of course," he paused, regarding the female members of the organization with a slight smile, before focusing back on their leader as he found the empty seat with the two attendants. "My apologies, Mr. Decker, to you and your associates for being behind schedule for our meeting. I had a few... loose ends to tie up."
"Looks 'bout what I 'spected," Darla said, "Maybe a bit younger 'n I thought."
"Well, it's finally good to have you here, now then. . ."
Decker took a minute to introduce everybody yet again, though sending the information on datapad might have been faster. "The less data about our gatherings, the better. Can't be too careful with SAINT and the IPG, after all."
The masked man took a moment to fold his arms over and stare down Satoru. or at least, angle his helmet in the general direction. "We assumed you wanted your opponent out of the senate seat, that correct?"
One by one as Decker's conspirators were introduced the new arrival listened respectfully, with a nod of his head to each in turn. "You certainly have an impressive slice of our universe here in this room, enough to catch anyone's eye." This comment was tossed in the direction of Darla, as well as the one called Returner who definitely stood out from her peers.
"Allow me to properly introduce myself, then," began the Jiyuuian, "I am Mitsuya Satoru, the CEO of Mitsuya Fuels and head of the Jiyuu Rengou political party."
Once that formality was out of the way, Satoru took a moment to consider Decker's metallic visage aimed his way. Meanwhile his hands reached into a pocket of the vest and produced a thin golden box. He flipped it open with a flick of the wrist to reveal a set of expensive cigarettes within, which he removed one carefully and placed it in his mouth. An equally fancy diamond plated lighter rose up to meet it, as he cupped his hands with a practiced motion and lit the end ablaze.
"So, you've heard the news, then..." The mere mention of the situation caused that smoldering spark to flash through his blue eyes again, as he dismissed it by taking a long drag of the illegal tobacco and exhaling a cloud of wispy smoke into the air before finally responding to the leader of the GAO. "Yes, one Mochizuki Shiori. You can forget any plans to restore the old colonial regime with her in power."
"Well, we've come up with two options. One is we have Returner's Aexalli come in quiet and do things under the radar, and the other is that, ahem," Decker said, massaging his throat before shouting in that modulated voice, "BEAR FORCE ONE!"
The Kodian in the room gave an approving nod.
". . . come in loud and proud to rain on Shiori's parade. We've got transport figured out for both potential teams, so ultimately you need to decide the kind of statement you want to make."
Decker knit his fingers together, taking a more focused stance in a lean forward.
"Do you want an accident or a show?"
The ideas presented were both intriguing to the Jiyuuian, who leaned back in the chair a bit. "Perhaps both -- a particular opportunity that your group could use has recently come to my attention."
"That being?" the Gartagen asked, suddenly taking an interest in the newcomer.
"Senator Mochizuki," he began, almost spitting out the first word, "She has quite a few campaign promises to fufill to the people who helped put her in power, but the most important one is not about jobs or pork barrel project funding. It's the fact she wants to create an entire home grown militia..."
Decker cocked his head. "So I'm going to just throw this out there, but let me take a wild guess and say. . . you want us to eliminate her, and then claim the project as your own and seed some of our guys in the ranks?"
Satoru removed the cigarette from his mouth and gave a sly smile. "You're very perceptive, Mr. Decker."
"Perception keeps people like us alive, Satoru."
It was hard to guess what his expression was beneath the mask, but one could feel a certain slyness to his tone that warranted a guess or two.
The politician nodded. "That being the case, a little birdie told me that the cornerstone of her project will be the acquistion of 40 Ayana class escorts that are currently mothballed in a surplus storage shipyard in Lorath space. It will be difficult, but I believe she has the resources and contacts to pull it off as a DATASS PR stunt, if nothing else."
"Ayana classes? That's surprising. I was sure that most of them were wiped off the slate of the universe when the Mishu smashed the UOC fleets. Still, that many Ayanas. . . both a blessing and a curse. Depends on who's in control, then."
"It's true that the NMX blackout destroyed nearly everything, but these were in Lorath hands at the time and decomissioned. It would not take much to get them flying again." He fingered the lighter in his hand for a moment, thinking. "What I am more concerned with is one in particular that you have to worry about."
"And in the hands of a loyalist, it means it's a whole mess of space-bourne problems on my turf. But please, continue."
"Yes, they would be accountable to Tenth Fleet if so," Satoru explained, "There is an Ayana-class escort dubbed the Kaguya that possesses an experimental MIKO module. I'm not sure what its capabilities truly are, but that is what she is really after according to my sources. It will be the first one brought out amidst much pomp and circumstance, no doubt."
"The tenth fleet? Augh, fuckin' hate those bastards!" Keisuke swore, earning him a glare from the Fyuunen at the end of the table.
"Regardless of personal feelings about the patrol fleet, an experimental anything is always bad news in my book. Worse than any senator, really. So here's the new plan. Bears go in loud and proud, and the Aexalli try to decommission, steal, or just straight up fuckin' blow this module sky high. That way the focus is on the poor little defenseless politician and frees up security around the module. "Otherwise. . . I'm going to start working on plans B, C, and D. This sort of thing reeks of trouble and I don't like leaving anything to chance."
The Elysian who remained silent for the duration of the meeting made a gesture to his retainer, who began to speak.
"The Steel Wings would like to offer services of a few bombers, if you deem it necessary."
"They'll need to go in first and park somewhere remote. I don't want anybody getting traced back to the Akahchanbara ship if things get flipped turn-ways. Sound good?"
Satoru rubbed his chin a moment as the motley crew started laying plans. It was unfortunate he had to go this route -- winning the election would have made his plans so much simpler. "All very good ideas. If things play out how I expect, Shiori will be holding some kind of maiden voyage public appearance, sake bottle in hand ready to unviel her vision. That would be the perfect time to strike. Generate chaos in the civilians attending the event and use it as a screen to go after both her and the ship before it can get off the ground."
The politician then took another puff of his cigarette before adding, "I would do it myself, but I can't have such a thing directly connected to my organization. Public relations are already a mess."
"I understand. Media representation is. . . incredibly important. We'll handle the civilians with nonlethal methods, but once they clear which in my experience is about two minutes at most, all bets are off."
Decker gave a pointed nod to the machine-person in the room to continue.
"I WILL HANDLE THE EMERGENCY RESPONDER SITUATION. OUR FOUNDRIES WILL PRODUCE THE JAMMING AND FALSE CALL EQUIPMENT BEFOREHAND. NO CHANCES TAKEN. AT LEAST ONE GOAL WILL BE /FULLY/ ACHIEVED."
Satoru leaned forward onto the table, satisfied by the response from the Freespacer and his helmeted boss. "Speaking of foundries... there is also the matter of payment for taking care of this matter for me."
"Ah yeah. Normally, I'm a half before, half after sort of guy, but given the service-based nature of our arrangement, let's call it our reward for completion. Sound about right, everybody?"
Numerous nods met him, some more certain than others. The ones who weren't even involved in this particular job were the most noncommital.
The defeated candidate contemplated something for a minute, rubbing his chin. "A reward for completion, yes. But since I'd like to see you succeed, I'm willing to sweeten the deal. You may have access to one of my Stellar Link platforms in Asura for refueling and repairs, as long as my company's civilian operations are not impacted and you keep a low profile. Complete the job, and I will give you access to two of them."
He smiled thinly. "That's 20 production bays, able to build just about anything you like from a compressed helium container to as large as a Seiza-class starship."
"That is a fair deal. Fractal, how soon can you have an alternate set of credentials for Keisuke's ships?"
"WITHIN THE HOUR."
"Great. We're going to need to borrow one of those facilities to manufacture flash-paint. You'll understand when you see the stuff in action, but it's some amazing material. Keisuke, I want your ship ready ASAP. Jul, Returner, just uh. . . coordinate with him and Satoru for timing things. Otherwise, everything's settled then?"
The group seemed to know what they were doing, and coordinated well. Still, it was one thing to plan and another thing when it came down to brass tacks, as he had recently found out in his political struggles. "I will know soon when the event will be held... it's only a matter of time after all. Senator Mochizuki wants to shock and awe her constituents... let's give them a show they'll never forget." Satoru relaxed with a vaguely smug look and leaned back into the chair, taking another huff of his cigarette. The end smoldered red, just like the fireworks he was hoping for to put an end to his troubles.
Turnabout Jazz Soul - The Steel Samurai
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