RP Operation La Prossima: Recruiting the Thorn

[HarperMadi]

RP Date

YE 46.2

RP Location

Yamatai

Spoiler: OOC

Thread is series of JPs with @Rizzo

Preamble: Interview with Thorn Ironhart

In space, no one can hear you scream.

Probably for the best, given the impotent, incoherent rage as Thorn, the real Thorn Ironhart’s mind thrashed against the confines of its mortal coil. The late night talk show had cracked her will to be unseen, the rage crushing any hope of a quiet retirement of stellar geography and prospecting.

"Well of course it is, after all," he looked into the camera, "I'm the one who built it."

This statement caused an incoherent scream of rage before she took a deep breath, calming herself.

“Okay, Thorn, you’re okay. He just… Stole your life’s work. It’s okay… No physical harm. I’m gonna fucking kill him.” She reached up, sucking down a ration bar before entering a course, and with a moon shaped tear in reality, the Oracle dropped from normal space, already on course to Yamatai.

She had broken into Yamataian space before. Broken into the Capitol world twice. It was a simple matter for her. The Oracle could disguise itself as a piece of debris from the battle of Yamatai, ignored and systems dead. It could easily use this disguise to latch on to a passing freighter. Could easily fall off in orbit and “burn up in the atmosphere,” her personnel pod and cargo pod making a simple deorbit maneuver, the core of the ship casually disguising itself as a derelict and tumbling communications satellite. From there, she could hunt, observe, watch Candon’s every move.

Like a cat stalking her prey, she would be careful, makeup to disguise her scars, hairstyles to hide the augment replacing her ear. Dye to change her hair color. A stolen Kikyo Scout uniform to shift suspicion away. A schoolgirl’s uniform the next day, then a farm child’s clothes for the final, where she would pick the lock for that hangar near Uesureyan Fields. A simple EM spike was all she needed to disable the lock and destroy the alarm. She returned her hair color to that distinct brown, dressed in the distinctive space suit she had worn for every mugshot. She casually, ritually placed the stunner on her wrist, with a knife at her belt. Then she used the little weapon to shatter the lock on his liquor cabinet. Then she poured herself a drink of his finest, unplugged the fridge, reset the clocks behind by two hours.
This was mild for the four feet and three inches of scars and chaos. She thought she must be mellowing in her old age, her body always ached so. Tiny, emaciated, with her body incapable of telling her how hunger gnawed at her and a pair of air filters replacing too much of her lungs. But perhaps she could be okay one day. For now, this body had proven too useful. Easy to incite pity that she could leverage. Incite anger at the “others.”

With her second drink, she sat in his favorite chair, sipped her drink, and watched the door. Candon’s android, who’d gone by the name Donny for some years now, entered his house and hung his hat on the nearby coat hanger and locked the door. The spartan interior of his home didn’t have all that many amenities except a few obviously fake pictures of him photoshopped into pictures of other people. Though the quality of the fake photos was seamless, Thorn had know where Candon had been during those times the photos were obviously meant to have been taken. The clever Thorn would have been impossible to fool with such a small ruse, though her fury may have narrowed her vision to only her goal at the time. Donny entered the room, oblivious to her presence as he headed toward the pile of mail next to the front door, opening each one, reading, and discarding each one in a manner that made even dripping molasses impatient.

 

[Rizzo]

But Thorn was not dripping molasses. No, she was far worse, accustomed to spending weeks sitting in the cold of space with nothing but glass and touchscreens to determine her orientation. A modified cryogenic pod, a Geist stolen from the Duskerians… Finally, she broke her silence by leaning into the light, placing the glass on the table with a distinct click. “You’re not a stupid man. I thought I knew you. Because stealing my work? Stealing my ship? Exceptionally stupid.”

With a flex of her wrist, the stunner fired at him, the burst of high energy electric shocks striking the wall and his thigh, his leg going limp as he cried out in pain. She never could aim, after all. Still, she stood and approached, revealing the real Thorn Ironhart in all her scarred and battered glory for him to see. “I have been wrong before. Just as I thought you were Candon Suites. So I’ll tell you what. I’m going to go easy on you.”

“What do you want from me,” he cried, limping down the hallway. Donny swung open a closet door, his free hand returning with a Zen arms ‘Little Killer’ laser pistol shaking in his grip. He leveled the sights on the small woman as best he could and squeezed the trigger… the weapon did nothing. Looking to the gun then Thorn again he threw the pistol at her, missing entirely as he continued limping into the back rooms.

She smiled as a slight turn of her head let the pistol fly past her, and she continued her walk like some creature from a horror movie, that smile never leaving her face. The smile of a woman scorned, and a woman too small for her wrath. “Simple, really. I’m not going to kill you. I just want to talk. But to shoot me? To fail to charge your pistol? You are a rank, arrogant amateur, aren’t you?”

She raised her arm again, firing another burst from her stunner. Too low power to kill or even stun, but agony and numbing of limbs was what she aimed for, just as the low sweep across where his calves and shins would be. Donny fell to the floor convulsing, screams sounding more like a gurgling. She didn’t really care how much forensics were left behind. No, she knew the real Candon would be on this instantly. She wanted them to know exactly who did this. She knew she had a mere few hours left to escape. Her window would close fast. “You stole my name, Candon. You stole Candon’s face. You stole from me. And your world will know it, stolen valor.”

Donny rolled over and gave a harsh stare, not nearly as intimidating as he was trying to be.
“Omae Wa Mou Shindeiru,” he yelled his arm reaching behind the nearest open door and returning with a weapon that would spell the doom top Thorn forever! The brave Donny rose heroically to his feet, shouldering a bristled stock and leveling the long end of his broom at her…
“Isurrenderpleasedon’tkillmetheguymademedoit!!” he screamed, his hands reaching into the air.

Thorn’s calm walk accelerated, into a run, then a dead sprint before she fell to her knees and slid across the tile, fist cocking back before lancing at shoulder height, the impact triggering the stunner at point blank range into the man’s pelvis and the sensitivities below it, all as Donny screamed, frozen in place. With a soft sigh, she offered a smile. “Subete no koto ni wa kosuto ga kakarimasu. All things come at a cost.”
Donny’s eyes rolled back as the electrified punch dealt it’s damage below the belt and left him on his back, curling into the fetal position as he cried silently.

“You can come out, now.” She spoke into the shadows as her work was done. “Do you honestly have so little respect for me as to not even bother to get the story right? That I can’t just have three years of peace and quiet, no one hunting me, no one trying to kill me, just another research vessel doing quiet retired things? I made no arrests, committed no crimes, for three years. I was studying, expanding into xenoarchaology. You had my direct comms line. But no. You must think me some foolish little human girl. I will hang my trophy, assert my existence, and then go back to being fucking retired!”

 

[HarperMadi]

“I’m afraid we don’t anymore,” Initzio replied, his invisible suit appearing in the same chair Thorn had been waiting for Donny in, the cloak breaking as he removed it’s helmet and set it down, “It’s complicated, but short story is Candon died at Glimmergold. That over there is his decoy he’d set up as a canary. He had a few of them just living lives and whatever they want. He would hear if one of them died and use it to get a clue on who wanted him dead. I might do the same.”

The man took her cup and swallowed the remaining liquor, “oh, the name’s Barone, Initzio Barone. I’d like to make you an offer. We need people like you who think outside the box and can handle themselves. The details are extremely classified and you can leave back to your retirement at any time, but I’d be honored if you’d join me for dinner. She’d notice a fresh pizza on the table that hadn’t been there before along with a selection of beers. “I can help you retire and make that rap sheet disappear.”

“The rap sheet makes it real hard to go legit, yeah,” Thorn considered his offer, wondered when the last time she ate was, then sat down at the table and used the back of her knife to open one of the beers. “Sucks to hear about Candon. Good guy under all that hoogedy boogedy spook bullshit. Sucks more to hear he didn’t just ST. I heard a lot of good people died out there. You could have really used me then. That said.”

She took a swig of her beer and flipped open the pizza box. “You folks aren’t known for hiring escaped slaves. Especially not ones that went down my path. I’ve been called a pirate a few times, and considering you’ve likely read my dossier, you know Candon and I got contracted against each other as many times as with. So what’s changed? What do you need my specific skillset for?”

“Changed,” he said taking a bit of pizza chewing it thoughtfully. With a hard swallow he took deep breath, “Thorn.. I don’t entirely know what changed. I have the memories of every person I was but can’t bring myself to be those people.. Candon died in combat after a psionic attack the likes of which we’ve never seen before. When we traced it back we found it was already in his code. My code.. Somehow, at some point, somebody corrupted at least one Neko. They infected her operating system and caused a massive error detected upon revival when- surprise, it doesn’t work right. Candon ignored it and simply buried himself in his work when he got his new body. He just pretended like he was the same person, but he wasn’t… SAINT has authorized me to figure this situation out. We need data… and Candon knew that’s what you sell. We’re trusting you with at least this part of what’s going on because I- he knows you never sold bad data and you weren’t scared of a challenge. SAINT conceded to the terms. When the cure is found we will expunge your record and offer you citizenship when and if you want it. This mission might take a while to complete but I can get you the deal in writing, insurance on any hardware you bring too.”

“I…” Thorn had taken her first bite while he was talking. But Barone’s words struck her in the heart, and she put the slice down, considering her options. “ST failures have been on the rise. My own copies on Oracle aren’t safe. The compression some times takes bits out. I haven’t used it, but I think I have some preliminary data that might be helpful. A hardware glitch that may help you understand it. But that… I don’t know how safe it is to fly Oracle as my own body, anymore. My insurance should cover it, and I have four Eye IIIs and an old freighter. But you know that. Is it contagious?”

Barone thought about it for a few hard seconds. “That information is classified.. In addition we’re hunting psionic attacks. You know the answer.” Cracking open a beer he took several long swigs. “And I know the answer too,” Barone set his beer can down with a noticeable click, “Candon knew the answer too but he had to kill himself to kill the only other person who knew. Catch my drift and you can see why this is such a problem… I really wish I could give you the whole story but even I’m still trying to figure things out.”

“I get it. I know how it is. We’ll hash out the contract later. For now,” she lifted her beer, reaching over to tap her can against his, the cans clinking together. “To who we were, and why. I know of a few rumors that could help. And my expanding into xenoarchaology might be actually worth it, here. How many times do you think ST has been invented? And how many of those races were also psionic or telepathic? The Senti had texts on psionic combat theory in the Turassieli Grand Library. I don’t know if they survived the fall. But there have been rumors.”

Barone shrugged. “If there’s one thing I know, that lead is as good as anyone’s at this point.”