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RP: ISC Phoenix [Mission 9] Enzo's Lady of the Night

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Zeta was taking another swig of the bottle when Robert sat next to her. She looked at him and listened to his question. She then smirked. "There is a lot on my mind now. Most of it is about me being useless and other bout Luca being stubborn bastard who won't let anyone give him advice." She paused and sipped some more gin. Bottle was getting nearly empty much to Zeta's displeasure. "Need more booze," she said and then looked at Rob again. "But that about Luca was not entirely true. He wants everyone advices. But he ussualy does what he wants in the end anyway. I mean what is the point a bodyguard when said body won't let you guard him." Zeta sighed again.

Then Enzo came. Vehicle bay was getting crowdy. When he told of joke Zeta smiled a little. "I can see it being funny right now Enzo. Personally I would just put that sad tosser into brig and let him rot until we get somewhere. I can't believe Luca is actually trusting that bastard. And looke at me. I am so stupid then instead of watching Beau I get drunk and start whining. Oh damn I am really stupid am I not?" She asked both of those out loud.

In her mind Rob was just about nicest guy under ship when it came to the crew. And Enzo. Well maybe she had some differences with him. He was scoundrel after all but in some way they were familiar. She had no problem talking with these two.
 
Uriel rolled his eyes while reviewing the series of violent events. "Nothing particularly impressive, really. Doesn't even come close to the skirmish on that Outer Colony. In any case, it's good to have you up and about again."

He was briefly interrupted by Enzo's performance. The Angel gestured toward Enzo's retreating figure and added, "For some reasons more obvious than others." As the conversation seemed to come to a close, the Patrician realized he had no other plans. Might as well clean himself up.

Showering on the ship was always a pain- shipborne showers for wingless individuals tended to be so, but Uriel worked it out. Afterward he dressed lightly and made his way to the commons which was quickly becoming a quiet place even with the airbike races playing. He went with a book- the book- made himself comfortable and began to read it for the umpteenth time.
 
Robert nodded knowingly as Zeta explained the problem. He sighed and tapped the floor in thought. "Well, I Think the problem there is that the Boss, he don't really need a bodyguard. As I remember, he used to be a military grunt. So he prolly has more fun when he's in danger of being shot to a million little pieces. So he throws himself head first into it. I know you kinda are on the opposite side of the scale. You would rather avoid the danger at any cost. It's who you are. Being a bodyguard and all." he grunted with a sort of laugh. "listen to me being all philosophical." he lightly punched her shoulder. "See what you doing, being all gloomy guts? Making a perfectly respectable back alley cutthroat sound all nice and smart. Youse better knock it off youse or I'll have ta get Enzo's revolver and forget to load it again." he said in a mock angry voice with a horrible accent that sounded somewhere close to Enzo's. He winked at her and patted her back before standing up to take off his armor completely. After shedding the armor and getting to his normal clothes he sat down next to her again.
 
Zeta smiled and said, "I do not mind danger. I mean I am not afraid of putting myself in danger. I know the feeling of adrenaline and all. I dislike when Luca puts himself in danger too much. I am not stupid you know," she said and had to pause because of solitary burp from too much alcohol. Zeta had to take a pause few second and force herself to not puke. "Blody hell, well I am not that stupid. I know Luca won't be man to stay behinf on ship bridge and order us around. Even though that is what I would like for him most. I would be quite jolly then. No I would be happy if he just would not be jumping in open jaws of space monters shouting 'TALLY HO!' and smling wildly so he can get into its stomach and shoot his way out. I want him to let me do my job more properly. Now I have a question. What- and I mean what, not who. What do you think I am?" She asked him in the end.
 
Aha, Naoko thought as she received the reply. Working.

After a quick few moments of thought, Naoko turned around and went back to Luca's room, where she spent some small amount of time rummaging through his personal belongings until finally hitting upon what she had been originally searching for - a hidden bottle of some sort of high proof Nepleslian scotch that she'd never heard of, that was already a quarter of the way empty. With that set aside, Naoko carefully replaced everything that she had disturbed using the attention to detail normally reserved for high-class hotel workers, and then swung by the kitchen for a couple of low-ball glasses and some ice.

The Phoenix crew were a bunch of drinkers; of course they had low-ball glasses. Naoko cracked the fridge, threw a couple of ice cubes in the glasses, and then - scotch under arm, a glass in either hand - proceeded to the cargo bay. It took no time at all for Naoko to navigate her way, and when she entered, she settled her attention immediately on Smith, to the exclusion of everything else. It was, after all, for Smith that she had come; now she put on her most patient expression, and hoped he was in a good mood - or at least a better mood than he had hitherto shown her.

Perhaps, in retrospect, she should not have worn the Muur armor. It had a decidedly violent overtone. Even though she felt comfortable in it, it was probably somewhat off-putting in sooty black. And probably she shouldn't have worn the gun with it; but that was not something she could change, just now, so she forced the thought aside and set the glassed down on the workbench. Click-click.

There was heavy silence as she poured the drinks; a sort of awkwardness that could only come from viewing the unexpected, or the strange.

Finished, she re-stoppered the alcohol, sat it aside, and took a seat on the workbench near the end, wetting her finger only to run it around the rim of her glass. It hummed faintly.

"An-chan, I know you hate me, and I haven't been very... ano, nice, exactly," she explained, quietly, as if she were talking to a skittish animal, "And I'm not trying to change your mind - but, I am afraid I have to ask your advice. Chotto... I know I have no right to ask favors, but I hope you will take pity on me, this time. May I explain my situation, to you, or would you like me to leave you in peace?"
 
Robert puffed out his cheeks and leaned back on his arms. "Whoo boy. That's a tricky question, ain't it girlie? I asked myself the same thing once. That was way back when i used to run with a bad crowd. Called ourselves the White Scorpions, or something like that. Anyway, I was sort of the center point of the gang. Not the Boss or anything. But I was the best in our corner of Funky City. Nobody could beat me. Knives, guns, freerunning, whatever." he chuckled at past memories. "that was before these." and he indicated his scars and cybernetic parts. "Afterwards, I wasn't quite as up to par anymore. Ya know? So I left the Scorpions. After wandering the city for a while, I ended jobbing for the Boss. Made me realize something after living with him and this crew. If ya got the fortune to join up with the Boss, your past don't matter see? That's why the Boss is Boss. He's sorta like, I dunno, a purifying force like in Uriel's book. Just kinda accepting of our help, but there to make us better. Anyways, ta answer your question." Robert looked at her with a smile of a man who was truly at peace. "The beauty of the Boss is that when you join his crew, you decide what and who you are despite your past and everything that happened in it." Robert smiled for a bit longer before mock punching her shoulder. "I thought I told ya ta not be makin me sound all philosophical."
 
Smith briefly looked up from his work to reply to the departing Enzo. "Of course Mr. Bortelli. I will assist you with that as soon as I'm finished with these suits." He quickly went back to the Impulse suits as though nothing happened.

****

Not too much later, with the first of three suits in the final stages of being fixed up, the Origin Representative found his moment of being left alone interrupted again. As expected. But he kept on working on the knee servo as she came in, practically ignoring her. At first. There eventually came a time however, when he simply had to look though. He took his armored foot off the table's edge as soon as the servo disk was slapped back in. And through clear glasses, gave her an expressionless look of absolute contempt.

The young man inside of Matthew wanted to scream and rail at her. 'The F*ck?! Me? Help you?! F*ck!' It was as though he had no other word with which to express his rage. 'F*ck, f*ck, f*ck!' And that just happened to be the case as well. There was nothing creative about his mental swearing, nothing catchy, nothing special at all. Nothing other than the pure rage he felt. And he wanted to let it all out at her - even though they just met not to long ago. Even though what happened between just the two of them was so petty...Just because she was a Neko. Because Ai was a Neko, and so was Naoko.

But the man in Smith kept him quiet as he literally looked down at her, due to both natural height, and the suit he was wearing. There could be...profit in this, that part of his mind reasoned. Though he turned his head towards the rag he reached out for, his eyes peered at her from the corner of his spectacles. Matt's paranoia was practically validated, proven right...she'd come here in armor with pistol by her side...but he said and did nothing else as he wiped the lube from the gauntlets.

Even though this wasn't his room, or personal area, or what have you, the truth was that Matthew felt like his privacy was being invaded. Violated even. And it showed; he leaned back against the bulkhead, but crossed his arms, subconsciously putting a layer between the two of them. Still, Smith kept as businesslike as possible whenhe coolly replied. "Go on. We're all crew members, aren't we Miss Aihara?"

Though the words were spoken in a normal enough manner, sounded normal, anyone could simply feel it. Sense the hate that rolled off of the air they traveled through to reach her thrice damned cat-ears.
 
Naoko swilled the dark amber liquid around in her glass, saturating the ice cubes as she held her gaze firmly against Smith's own, as she measured her chances of pursuading him to her side; as the sparks glittered faintly, metaphorically, where their two wills collided, mid-air.

Eventually, she dropped her eyes, glanced away, and twitched her ears down in embarassed defeat. She glanced up, and back down at the glass. Then she drank. She finished the glass, and refilled it, touching the lip of the bottle to the edge without looking up at Smith, again. His question hung in the air unanswered. How was she supposed to answer such an obvious satire? How was she supposed to come back at this? Torture, brawling, marksmanship; stealth, and skullduggery, and even computer hacking were simple, even natural for Naoko. Diplomacy was not. Talking to people was not. And talking to someone who hated her, as opposed to making his life inherantly miserable, was a taxing prospect that she had no clue how to address.

She tapped the glass lightly, softly, with her fingertips. She raised it, as if to take another drink, but stopped with the glass halfway to her lips again.

"Do you want to kill me that badly?" she murmured, looking up, perking her ears slightly. All hint of accent was gone; she was speaking straight, plain Nepleslian, with no embroidery. "I thought you simply felt very strongly against Yamatai, or against my race because of how I was born, or what I was taught to do - that you were another fool with strong convictions, that I could drive crazy with them. But I can see in your eyes, clear as glass; you want to shoot me now. You really, really hate me."

The scotch in the glass disappeared almost immediately. It made a hard clack against the metal beside her when she sat it down on the workbench. Her eyes, level, were appraising. She was sizing him up, but not in an aggressive way; like she was gaging his caliber, or attempting to solve some puzzle. Finally, she clasped her hands together in her lap.

"I don't hate you, though. Otherwise I would have brought a bigger gun."
 
Zeta sat in the car looking at Rober as he spoke. What he said made here more focused and let her keep alcohol at bay for a while and let he speak her mind once more.

"That is nice Robet. Makes the poin in my head all the more true. But I did ask if you know what I am. You dodged the question. Well let me ansew then. I am not a person. I was made. A rich man bought me. He let NAM made me and four others to becaume his bodyguards. I am just a clone like my brother and my late sisters. We were mentally programmed to guard him and think of him as our father. And we did so. I am thirteen years old and five of those I spent most of my time being his bodyguard and driver. I cared about him a lot but all I thought about was protecting him. THen we got hit very bad. I lost arm and two sisters. I mean two other clones I though about as sisters. And the persong we were guarding though of us as not effective enough. So he let us go and ordered himself some ID-SOLs. So here I was a meat robot supposed to gain a normal life. Doesn' sound very realyl huh?" Zeta started her story.

She took another small swig of the bottl and continued. "Well you know what? I managed. I got a job. I got a money to get me new arm. I became a bloody person. I found a job at taxi service and they took me in and became my friends. They taught me how behave like real person. But guess what? It was not enough. And then I joined this crew and suddenly my bodyguard senses kicked in again once I met Luca. I mean he is captain of this ship and he hired me. At the start it was simple as that, but...." Zeta made a pause and it first tear could be seen slowly sliding down her cheek.

"But then it was more. Luca is a such a noble person. He is like ultimate nice guy. He is just going anywhere helping people and trying to do what is right. Look at your story Robert. You were a ganges slitting throats of people and here you are one of the nicest man I know. ANd you Ento. Let not lie to ourselves you are a scoundrel and Luca still let you into this crew after he found you? And he is behind every person in his crew entirely. He is the bloody force in this universe. He is someone who change things. Make them right. Make a diffference. When this all became clear my stupid programming came back. I have to guard him, I just want him to not get into any harm. But that is jost not possible with the way he behaves." By this time more tears showed up and it was clear that Zeta started crying.

"He does not let me guard him. You know what that means to me? I am not a person I am just a bloody meat robot. My stupid mental programming is starting to kick back. I am losing myself. All this illusion of personality is going away. And I do now want it too. But I know that I am weak in this state. I can't protect him I am not goof enough. Not focused, not professional. I should be pointint my gun on Beaus head not drinking here. So I either lose myself or I can keep him alive. THat is the most fucked up choice ever."

She made another pause. Upon which she put her face in her hands covering it while she sobbed and cryied. "I-,I-, I think I bloody love Luca." SHe ended ther large monoluges being as psychically down as she was never before.
 
"Hooo girlie," Robert started to say as everything clicked into place. He put a comforting arm around her. He rocked her slowly while quietly shushing her, similar to when his mother did when was young. "Don't worry girlie. We'll work it out. Somehow. You and me and...." he hesitated, glancing at the rogue, before adding "and Enzo I suppose if we need somebody to get shot." hoping the joke, small as it was would help bring his friend out of this gloom. "Us underdog, castoffs gotta stick together and all that stuff right?"
 
"Ha!" Enzo's 'sympathy' ran out with this auditory signal. His signature wicked grin crept up in its usual spot and he pulled away from the truck. "Lady, there ain't no points in lovin' him or anyones else. Yous gots a lotta learnin' left to do, sister."

The now-labled scoundrel strolled around to the frame of the door and shoved his head in, close enough to smell Zeta's breath. "Or maybe you needs to lay off the sauce for a minute. And Raggsie," He continued, pulling back and turning his gaze to Robert. "Don't you go encouragin' her like 'at, see? You been on the streets, where it's a DA a day eating-shit-and-preyin'-on-tricks for a livin'. Don't tell me yous just gonna sit theres and lets the last decent level-headed' broad on this junks heap fill her head wit' fancy ideas. I oughta sings a song to yous two, honestly."

Enzo jumped back, throwing himself away from the truck with a mid-air turn. As if to call attention to the miniscule feat, he turned with a grin once more before going off into the docking port. He shook his head mid-stride, muttering, "Like I'm gonna get shot over love 'er somethin."
 
Robert snorted as Enzo left. "Bah, figured he would say something like that. He looked around for something heavy to throw at the scoundrel's retreating form. Finding nothing that wouldn't take minimal effort to throw, he settled slouching back. "Don't listen to him. Sure I've been out on the streets, taught me that if ya should find love ya should go for it with every thing ya got." he gave her a convincing grin.
 
Zeta was quietly sobbing and listenin to those two. She figured Enzo's reaction would be like that and it was actually slightly comforting. In his own way he told her to remain same. And Robert? Robert was just too sweet.

"Thank you Rob," she then sad and leaned back in the seat. She wiped the tears off he face with both hands. "I think I should finish the bottle and then get some bloody sleep. Thank you for listening to this rant of little meat robot." She then said and chuckled a little. "AND THANK YOU TOO ENZO!" She then shouted in the hall.
 
As Naoko looked away, Matthew's eyes briefly opened wide in shock. He caught himself though, and narrowed them back to the 'hostile normal' setting. 'This...doesn't make sense. I've always been on the other end of the table when it came down to these stares with Her.' It seemed that each time he interacted with them at length, the Nekos merely reinforced what he thought of them. 'I don't understand them at all.' Mr. Smith's eyes bored into it, her, whatever, as another glass was poured, mentally vivisecting Naoko in a desperate bid to wrap his mind about the Neko. Like all other instances, he simply found no purchase, and gave up once again.

'Its not like Naoko is a killing machine.' He thought. 'Those, like Mishhu, are surprisingly easy to predict at the mid and lower levels.' The glass was brought halfway to her perfect, sumptuous lips. 'But you're not a person either, otherwise, I wouldn't have trouble bending you left and right when it comes to business.' Smith stopped thinking and listened proper when Naoko spoke however. Unlike most people, he actually bothered to listen. And it sounded like...was this distress? Perhaps even despair he heard? No. It was more than that; she was likely borderline defeat. And then something came together in Smith's mind, and he rejoiced. Something about a Neko made sense!

"It's nothing petty like ideology or ethics about birth or origin...not at all." Smith spoke with a warm kindness in his voice. "Its absolutely personal, so don't worry about it one bit Miss Aihara." A thin, cruel smile was on his face now. "Though, I must admit, I thought the feeling was mutual considering how you were behaving towards me." He casually peeled off a flake of brown skin, revealing the painful pink and red below. "Besides, what would make you think I'd like to kill you? True, it would have the same end result that I'd prefer - you being gone - but, I'm not a killing machine or anything like that. Believe me, I'd rather ask you politely to leave." He paused, flicking away the flake of dead skin. "But I won't." Smith flatly added. The Origin Representative then proceeded to toss the Impulse with the slagged chestplate over his armored shoulder before laying it down on the floor face up with a heavy thud.

"Because, I know this is important to you. I don't know what it is yet, since you haven't said, but I do know. This. This is very important...isn't it?" He looked up from his work, continuing to to slightly smile at her.

"So, how may I be of assistance Miss Aihara?" he asked with cheer.
 
Robert smiled as he gently took the bottle as took a swig of his own. "Anytime girlie. What are friends for after all?" he passed the bottle back to her and stood back up. "I'm gonna hit the rack myself." he grinned again and walked off towards his new quarters. "Don't be a stranger and stop by if ya need to." he said as he walked out of the bay. He passed by the cargo bay and saw Smith and Naoko talking, but he continued on without a sound and entered his room. He flopped onto his rack and promptly fell asleep.
 
Before Robert left the room Zeta looked at him and smiled. "Thanks again," she said and took drank a bit of gin. "Boy this thinks is not very tasty at all, but it gets you drunk. Oh and by the way I hope you still did not forget about that dinner you promised." She said and smirked.
 
Beau didn't react that much to Enzo's prank, it was almost as though he was prepared to die. He'd seen his airbike race, he was happy with the result (even if he didn't win), and just sighed a sigh of relief as he finished his beer. Melissa, who had pulled out her rifle and pointed it at Enzo swearing a blue streak.
"...grrfuckin'hellwotdy'rethinkyerfuckin'DOING!?" She swore angrily as she pointed her rifle at Enzo, but after watching Vincent give him the what-for, she lowered her rifle and looked over to Beau, still eerily calm, "You orright?" She inquired as she put the safety on her rifle and sat down with it.

"I'm fine." Beau said, sounding numb as he sipped his beer and looked over to Luca, "You have a very, very dysfunctional crew. Ever considered getting a shrink?"
Luca thought for a moment and said, "If we did, I think our chances of success would diminish tenfold."
"No, I don't mean for sanity. I mean for togetherness," He observed, "If anything you and your team would get better," He smiled a weak smile.
Luca thought of Uriel, being the one with the most level head on the crew, bar his parents. He then thought of his crew at large and their squabbles. He could hear them vaguely - then it hit him with clarity, "You're right. You're absolutely right. I'll try and look into it."

"I don't doubt that you're one of the good guys, if anything you're a whole lot more pleasant than the pirate I shot down a month ago," Beau observed dryly.
"That's always a plus. No doubt you'll sell your story about me to the media about the Insane Sideburns wearing Pirate?" Luca smiled wryly.
"No need. A deal is a deal." Beau gave Luca a pat on the shoulders.

"John," Luca commanded, "Get us back to the Kestrel and take us home with Ardent. Beau, you're free to leave. Get some rest and bust your boss."
"Can do," Beau said as he picked himself up, and then took Ardent with him, "Sorry boss, you have to face the music for what you've done, maid uniform and all."

"Alright, on our way now," Jon confirmed as he detached the ISC Phoenix from the Lady of the Night and sent it back to the Big Bird, which, in turn, sent itself back to the Crimson Kestrel. Eventually, the Police Vessel went its own way, and the Lady of the Night was in the Hangar.

-

"How did this get on board?!" Luca said as he threw himself at the Mishhu, with a flamethrower in one hand and an automatic shotgun in the other, firing both off at the same time.
"I dunno!" John said as he erected a sentry and used his Laser Pistol to keep shooting at some of the straggling zombies.
"Quick, we gotta hurry!" Melissa argued as she continued picking off the ones closer to the back and the bigger ones in front.

"Door's open! Go Go Go!" Sebastian yelled as he finally unsealed the door, and the crew sprinted through it, Sebastian closed it behind him and sealed it shut with a welding iron.

MISSION COMPLETE!

"Whew!" Luca said as he put the controller down, "I haven't played that in Ages!"
"That wos fun," Melissa said, "Not terribly realistic, but fun ne'erth'less."
"I wonder if the others want in? Its an eight-player game, we got eight controllers." John mused.
Sebastian shrugged, "You kids can keep playing. I've got books to balance."

It'd only been an hour since the the previous incident, and by the looks of it, the crew needed a break for a while to gather their wits.

MISSION 9 - COMPLETE!!
 
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