Kai
Retired Staff
Kyoto
>ON
It had been a couple of days since the young woman had left Tami, left her home, a place she had not left since YE 31. Now, she found herself on Yamatai, another planet she had not been on in a long while, but now, it held something different for her. Her shuttle, a Black Starbryte-L, lightly touched down on the landing pad of one of the small-time shipping ports, somewhere near the edge of Kyoto. Nearby was a series of warehouses where people could leave things to be shipped across the galaxy, for a nominal fee.
It was the girl's job now, to be one of those people that shipped things. So, to do that, she exited the shuttle, short, black hair and aqua eyes surveying the area as her hands found their way into the pockets of her brown leather bomber jacket, a pair of blue jeans keeping her legs warm, although she likely didn't need it. For now, she was looking for someone, or something. She had been told to contact a 'Mr. Face'.
Another head popped out of the vehicle, a taller woman, with dark black sunglasses that hid her eyes, her thick black hair tied into a ponytail behind her. A little nervous to be seen on Yamatai, the woman was tall and imposing, especially among the normal Yamataian citizenship. She'd met with the girl back on Tami-- a place she never thought she'd be back to-- and the two had come to a mutually agreeable business arrangement. There was something about her that had reminded the woman of business she'd done before. Not wanting to attract too much attention to the shuttle, the woman told the girl, "Go ahead, I'll watch things here." She loosened the tie around her neck, ever since she worked for that damn Origin she'd gotten in the habit of wearing them.
"I doubt you'll need to, this is Yamatai, even if it's what could be considered the shady part," the smaller Yamataian woman answered, fully trusting that what she was saying was true, though it could very well not be.
Muscles flexed under the taller woman's coat, "Go on," she encouraged. It wasn't exactly the shuttle or the girl she was worried about. The cats could generally be counted on to be racists towards her, and it wasn't like she hadn't caused some trouble in a place that looked a lot like this in the past. In any case, being careful with who saw her here was the woman's top priority. She pulled her datapad from her hip pouch and went over the itinerary once more. Not for any real reason other than to occupy her time. Check the local weather. News? Nothing really notable, though the latest NPN reports brought a smile to her lips and a chuckle to her throat.
The girl waved dismissively at her counterpart and walked off, boots making a dull thud as she sauntered toward one of the adjacent warehouses. However, before she could get there, her communicator went off, and she picked it up. "Hello?" she answered, but a tone told her that there was a video message instead of a normal call.
The volumetric window that popped up proved to be completely unnecessary as all it showed was a blue background with the black outline of a face in the middle. a voice, slightly modulated but obviously Nepleslian in origin, then spoke to her.
"Go to the third warehouse, inside you will find my package. There will be a man guarding it. He will stay with the package until it is delivered, understood?" the voice commanded her. She nodded, answering the voice with an easy "Of course, got it."
In a few minutes, she had made her way inside the third warehouse, and began looking.
The warehouse was filled with a myriad of crates for purposes beyond anyone's guess but Mr. Face- if he even owned all of it. Amidst this, however, was a very large anomaly: a grey-skinned, four-armed hulk of a thing known to the Universe as an Abwehran Nightwalker. Goggles dangled around his neck, leaving glowing eyes free to observe the dim warehouse unobstructed; a cigar was firmly clamped between his great jaws which seemed to permanently possess a smile to some degree. His two upper arms were loaded with tattoos, easily visible as his black shirt was sleeveless; his pants and boots were similarly nondescript and dark. A dragon glared from either shoulder- one black, one red- and black ink looped around his left forearm in a series of rings varying in breadth. All ten fingers bore unique dragon heads. His lower arms were oddly devoid of tattoos in comparison.
At first sight of the small- and in his opinion miniscule- Yamataian, he stood up from his seated position on a nondescript crate, and greeted her with a rolling rumble of a voice. "Looking for something?" The tone was casual, as if he regularly found himself in dimly lit warehouses in shady districts to rendezvous with total strangers.
The admittedly tiny woman looked up at the rather monstrous Abwerhan, and coughed amicably through a slightly forced smile as she took in a bit more cigar smoke than she intended, but she didn't let it stop her. "Ahh- yeah, I'm looking for you," she said, "and that," she finished, pointing to the box he was apparently guarding.
"Mr. Face wants me to deliver it to Nepleslia. Got a problem with that?" The minuscule woman crossed her arms in a display of defiance, as if to ward off any disbelief the nightwalker may have. "And in case you need to know, I'm Ellen Katsuragi, of the Roc, so's you don't think I'm just some random kid or anything."
Rüd Grülik chuckled lightly, amused by her spunk. "No problem." He bent down, scooped up the box in question with one heavily muscled arm and strode toward Ellen. "Lead the way." It wasn't that the Nightwalker was overly trusting, nor that he underestimated little miss Katsuragi- rather, he was physically incapable of worry and concern.
It was a good thing that the woman guarding the shuttle wasn't drinking anything, because as she saw the large, four-armed man approach there would've been liquid spewed all over the landing pad. She estimated he was probably about a foot taller than she was, towering over the tiny Katsuragi as the two walked back towards her. He wasn't just tall, but built, too. It made her little wings flutter just to look at him in his sleeveless shirt. Luckily, the glasses nicely hid her oogling eyes. "We're getting a passenger, too?" she asked, tilting her head down towards Ellen, sneaking another glance at the Abwehran over the top of the rim of her glasses. "Or is he just doing the heavy lifting?"
"Not a passenger, part of the delivery, I guess," Ellen responded, frowning slightly. She wasn't entirely certain she needed even more people on board her shuttle, but as she had gotten the slightly bigger model, it didn't matter quite as much.
Coming out to find a Lorath was not at all what he had anticipated; it was an intriguing surprise, but of the good kind. They were always so tall- or maybe Ellen was just really short and skewing his perspective. Either way, he easily outsized the winged woman by a third of a meter at least, he guessed. Rüd's grin seemed to stretch a little wider at the question. After plucking the cigar from his mouth, he answered with his own question, "Is that a problem? Call it insurance." He tucked the cigar back in his mouth before realizing it was at its end; With a shrug, he tossed it to the ground and stamped it out.
Ellen shrugged. "Not my place to complain, I guess, since I'm getting paid for it. Mister Face says you're part of the package, you're part of the package. Now, get in the shuttle so we can leave this place. It looks like it's gonna rain soon." Ellen did just that, making her way- quite easily due to her size- into the shuttle, and getting into the Pilot's seat. "Just put the box anywhere back there, there's plenty of room" She called back to the extra-large grey thing.
The woman at the shuttle bit back a comment on the delivery boy's package, and instead just introduced herself. "Nyezeh, pleased to meet you," she told him, pushing her sunglasses back into place and following Ellen into the shuttle. As she stepped in side, she fully unzipped her jacket and threw it at the co-pilot's seat, revealing twin chubbies hung from hooks on the harness she wore underneath and of course her jet black wings. Part of her was showing off that she meant business, the other part was trying to impress the four-armed man. "I am going to drive-- eventually, right?" she said to the girl in the pilot's chair, an air of annoyance to her tone, "You're going to let me drive one of these days. That's what I do. Drive."
Seeing the shuttle gave the Abwehran brief pause and evoked a silent sigh. It was the one and only- but glaring and occasionally painful- detriment of his size: fitting into the smaller races' worlds and constructs. Before proceeding, he had to address a matter that had flitted across his mind. "Fyunnen, right? House or caste or whatever." He absentmindedly flicked at one of his own ears, indicating his method deduction. Then he proceeded with the most dignity he could to shift through the doorway with his broad and tall frame, leading with the still undetermined 'package.' Within the shuttle, he set it down against the wall just outside the cockpit.
As her surveyed the interior of the shuttle, he noticed it was not exactly standard inside- several folding bunks had been bolted to the wall nearest him, and along the opposite he could see the top half of a hovercar that had been stowed sideways within the confines of the shuttle. On top of those items, several footlocker-style crates were strapped to the port wall, apparently the main storage area for at least one of the girls' gear, though as they were locked Rued had no way of peeking a glance inside if he wanted to.
He spoke up again, as if realizing quite late that introductions had been made... sort of. "Rüd," he offered, his tone deepening even more as he reverted to his native accent. He took note that the Lorath was armed, but made no comment. It was sensible, and in many places- like Nepleslia- it was necessary. Even the Nightwalker was reconsidering his decision to undertake this venture without a gun. His prowess in unarmed combat was significant, but he couldn't wrestle a bullet.
"Welcome Rued," Ellen called back, ignoring the Lorath's complaints about not being able to drive while the Abwehran boarded her shuttle, before addressing them in a somewhat annoyed way, as if she had already answered several times. "I told you, Nyezeh, It's a Ship, I fly it. You can drive the A2 if we need to take it out, but the Roc is mine, no ifs, ands, or buts."
Jolokia gave Ellen the fakest pout that the Yamataian probably had ever seen, at least since the last time she had made that face at her. With her eyes still hidden behind her sunglasses, the Lorath woman's head turned from her pushy pilot back towards where the Abwehran was securing the package. "That's right, Fyunnen-- " she confirmed pulling the hair tie out from the back of her head and letting her wavy locks bounce around her shoulders. Now that she was less in danger of damp Kyoto weather, she felt more free to get comfortable. "You ever been to Lor?" she inquired of the shuttles newest passenger, "Or are you just a fan of Lorath?"
His smiled became a grin. "Spent most of a year there. Like the people, I think. The politics are too... well, they're not for me. Love the creativity and expression." He crossed both sets of arms, and his grin quirked, as if taking note of an inside joke. "We got along pretty well. And the wings... A shame most are... that you can't fly. Elysians in flight is an impressive sight. Still, pretty though."
As Rüd mentioned the Elysians, Nyezeh's lips turned downward, but maybe it wasn't that which bothered her. "You have me at a disadvantage, then," she noted, "I've met very few Abwehrans in my line of work." She stretched out her hands and arms above her head, interlocking her fingers and cracking them as she streched her wings out as well, not to mention the whole work out giving her shirt buttons a run for their money. And while her little black wings certainly were not as impressive as the gigantic appendages of the Elysians, the Fyunnen felt they had their own charm.
"You guys want me to wait so you can keep flirting, or shall I just take off, then?" Ellen asked, a joking grin on her face as she peeked back from her seat in the cockpit, before turning back to her console. "But in all seriousness, we should probably get going before someone thinks we've been sitting too long or something." Truthfully, she just wanted to get the job over with. She was running low on funds and probably only had enough to pay for fuel and food for a month at most, and that was if nothing else went wrong.
A hair tie took flight from the co-pilot's seat towards the face of the Yamataian pilot. "Shut. Up," the Lorath said with a laugh as she turned back around it sit properly for take-off and started flicking switches and going through the pre-flight checklist with Ellen. "Are you radioing the tower for clearance or am I?" she asked, holding a finger over the comm controls. "Or should I just check the map?"
"Are you just going to sit there and ask your passengers for their permission, or are you actually going to do something?" it was the lightest of jests, indicated by a much smoother tone. Otherwise he had nothing to contribute to that conversation. He sat on the edge of the nearest bunk and propped his lower pair of elbows on his knees, clasping burly hands together. His upper arms came to rest limply over their southern counterparts. His eyes drifted aimlessly, but found themselves alighting on the Lorath's armaments. "Good guns," was all he said in a tone quiet enough that she might not have even heard.
"I already got clearance, so plot us a course if you think you can do better than the computer, but I bet the computer can get us there faster," Ellen teased, nabbing the hair tie and stowing it for later revenge as the ship rumbled slightly, coming to life before lifting off the ground gracefully. The sudden feeling of smoothness let them know that they were in the air, aided by the fact that the downward view of the Starbryte's cockpit was stellar, and they could watch the ground get smaller as the black shuttle ascended into the clouds above the planet, making its way toward orbit so they could leave for once.
"Planning any other stop offs from here to Nepleslia?" Nyezeh asked absentmindedly as she confrimed the computer's course. She was no ace pilot and agreed with the captain of this tiny boat that following the AI suggestion was likely the most prudent. "Alright, all systems look green," she reported, "We are good to go." Once that was settled, the Lorath woman saw fit to answer the man's compliment on her equipment. Keeping her eyes on the front of the shuttle, she commented, "Origin makes some good firearms. And some good trucks. You can damn near drive them with a huge aether hole right through the block."
"Make good just about anywhere they try," the Abwehran agreed. "Those in particular, I'd say, are solid stock." He chuckled at a memory of his, but gave no inclination to his travel companions to what was so funny. Were they colleagues by any notable measure, he would have gladly done so; as it stood, he still registered this relationship as nothing beyond a brief meeting between contractors. No point in blathering on- and besides, it probably wouldn't interest them.
Ellen didn't seem to mind the blathering about guns, as she was currently busy setting the ship up to fling itself out of Yamatai's gravity well before starting its FTL drive and heading toward the other nation's until recent capital at speeds which would surely boggle the human mind. "If you guys want to talk guns, I have a box of them in here somewhere. Grew up on Nepleslia, then survived years on occupied Tami." she nodded sagely at this information, before continuing. "Never have enough guns, I think."
The ship made to shudder slightly as it moved on, and Ellen got up from the Captain's seat, having put the Roc on Autopilot. Before too long, it was out of the Gravity well, and the FTL drive could be heard charging before the stars out the cockpit suddenly lengthened and turned into one mass of white.
"Never have enough guns is right," Jolokia agreed. "When I busted off of Tami during the squiddy attacks I snagged a bunch of guns from my employer," she explained, enjoying the view from her seat, "Of course I ended up on a merc ship with the craziest captain you'll ever meet--" The Lorath trailed off, thinking of the adventure that landed her aboard the Phoenix. "Anyway," she said, sitting up, "Ellen's got a box of pea-shooters back there," she turned her head around again, quickly scanning to see if she could recognize the one the Captain had mentioned. "I prefer something a little more reliable. Lasts a long time and can put lots of big holes in a lot of things all at once."
"Hey, it's not like I'm rich!" the small shuttle captain defended herself. "I bought what was cheap, and besides, 10mm KZ isn't that bad of a round. It helps that I can find it for pennies on any civilized planet in this stupid galaxy, anyway." She seemed to be pouting as she stood, fingering something in her pocket. "Besides, If one of them breaks, there's plenty to replace it!" and with that she flung the hair-tie back at Nyezeh, a bit angrily.
"Mm. I'm partial to the big guns," contributed the Nightwalker. "Squaddies and explosives and the like. Although, I suppose its more of an acquired taste." He rose from his seat on the bunk, already becoming restless. His great shoulders rolled in exaggerated gestures, trying to sate his need for movement, action. "Being the biggest guy, you tend to end up lugging around all the heavy equipment. Launchers, heavy guns... They just kinda grew on me." A couple moments of his time as a mercenary cropped up in his mind's eye. Rüd relived them briefly before they settled once again in the back of his mind. He paid no mind to the hijinks in the cockpit.
As the hair tie bounced off of the big sunglasses the Lorath wore, her lips twisted into a callous smile. She enjoyed teasing the pint-sized Yamataian. "So I ended up BACK on Tami after spending some time in a hospital-- broken bones, squiddy poison in my system-- not pretty. Not the worst I've been. And that's where I met this firecracker." Nyezeh flicked a finger towards Ellen. "What about you?" the question was pointed to Rüd directly as she sat now off the side of her seat, legs folded atop one another as she sprung the hair tie between two fingers. "You spend a lot of time on the Kyoto docks?"
Rüd stopped pacing to meet Nyezeh's gaze and answer simply, "I get around. Been to Nep Prime, Kyoto, Elysia, UOC- even made it out to visit the Freespacers before they got spaced." The ironic pun did not escape the Abwehran, but he chose to ignore it. He seemed slightly demured by the mention of the Freespacers, like a man mentioning the death of a friend years past; it was something he had come to terms with, but it didn't make anything better. "And, of course, Lor. Tami, once, after all the squid business. Was thinking about going to Francia, that new Nep colony, when I got this job."
"So you've been there recently, then? To Tami, I mean," Ellen asked, seeming interested. "It only just got liberated, and it still amazes me how quickly people get back to places after something like that happens." Ellen seemed to be done with the cockpit for the moment, and made her way to the bunks, pulling down the top one and climbing up to lie down on it. "It'll be about three hours" she muttered, referring to the travel time, if anyone cared.
Rüd nodded. "Yeah. Love the gravity- I mean, in comparison to most of the other worlds. Nothing beats Abwehr on that count. Nothing feels right without that weight of home."
"Well, nothing's shooting us way out here," Nyezeh commented mostly to herself, unclipping the harness strap across her collarbone and pulling it over her arm and wings. "Lor was home, but home has too many shitty memories for me, I'd be fine never going back," she claimed with pursed lips, setting the guns and harness down the opposite side of the chair. If she couldn't drive, at least she could sit in the cockpit where it kinda felt like she was driving. Not really. Truth be told, Jolokia was just too lazy to get up and get in a bunk. "Maybe when I make it big, maybe then."
A chuckle escaped the Abwehran at making it big, but he said nothing. He'd heard that line more times than he could count from all sorts of people, of all races. It amazed him how universal some desires and personalities were. Although he did have one question, "What will you do with it?" That was always the most definitive aspect of someone trying to 'make it big.'
"Hmm," the Lorath hummed, leaning up against the seat back as she thought about surreptitiously coming into a large sum of money, "Probably buy a nice big place. Something comfortable-- maybe a ship. Do some travelling--" her voice trailed off for a moment, before she realized how sappy that sounded and a big grin crossed Nyezeh's face as she sat back up, "Or maybe I'd just buy a nice beach somewhere and spend the rest of my days with Lorath wine, Abwehran cigars, and a truckfull of cabana boys."
"Why do you think I bought the shuttle?' Ellen asked rhetorically. "You start somewhere, you know. it's not like one days you suddenly wake up and are 'big' or something." She frowned at the ceiling as she did so, thinking about her past. "Being big is nice, though, I hear. You can do whatever the hell you want and not worry about anything."
Rüd laughed twice more: once at the Lorath's 'truckfull of cabana boys,' and again at Ellen's, 'being big is nice... I hear.' "Never had a need for all that money. I get around just fine, get to do what I want no problem." He added a shrug as if there might be more, but he couldn't find the words.
Ellen rolled over on the bunk, looking at Rued's head from roughly eye level. "But I'm sure you don't have everything you might want. And even with money, there's always something you can't buy." She rolled back over, looking at the ceiling again, and feeling around in a small alcove in the wall for a pillow and blankets. She seemed intent on taking a nap.
"I just don't want to have to care about it anymore, ya'know?" Nyezeh offered her shuttle companions, as her head fell back against the seat. She took aim at Ellen's bunk, but the elastic hair tie slipped and shot backwards against the ship's console instead. It was definitely too much effort for her now to turn and retrieve it. "And the wine, cigars, and a couple of wardrobes full of new clothes," she couldn't help but be materialistic. "Or maybe just fill a big pool full of--" as she watched Rüd stick his hands into his pockets, she paused.
His lower hands dug into his pockets: one withdrew a simple, but elegant tin; the other revealed a lighter, its sterling silver form embossed with an insignia neither would be able to identify. With a simple flick of his thumb, Rüd popped the tin open to reveal three pristine cigars. A third hand stuck one in his mouth, while the other two simultaneously pocketed the cigar tin and lit the one pinned between his teeth. After a few puffs, he gave his answer, "I've got work; I've got my smokes." He shrugged. "Yeah, I've got what I want, the Insatiables aside." 'The Insatiables' was the Abwehran's term for that which could never be sated, but had to be regularly tended: hunger, lust, and personal vices. His eyes met Nyezeh. Feeling cordial, he asked, "Want one?"
"New ship, no smokes, please." Ellen asked, politely, not trying to be rude about it, but pointing out that she didn't appreciate it. "Normally I wouldn't care but this one still smells nice. Smoke all you want when we're outside, though," she explained, though it seemed that she was worrying over nothing- the smoke from the Cigar could be seen swiftly making its way toward a vent, to be filtered out and purified quickly. Still, not all of it went there, and Ellen was clearly not amused, especially being near the top of the shuttle at the moment, where there was more smoke than she was used to having at her height.
The Lorath's arm was already stretched out towards the Abwehran as the captain made her plea. "I'm dying for one," Nyezeh admitted, but after glancing towards the source of the petit voice of command on the ship, she relented with, "How about once we reach Nepleslia?" Her arm went limp and she squirmed around in the seat, pulling it in and reclining back. Now there were three discomforts she had to deal with, and that was certainly three too many. What was going to simply be a long trip now felt like it was going to take forever.
Rüd plucked the cigar from his mouth with a sigh and examined it briefly, looking forlorn. "But it's fresh." Despite sounding like an argument, the Nightwalker abided the order, snuffing it on the convenient sink which he extracted from the starboard wall and replaced immediately thereafter. The cigar was put back in its home, looking mangled and abused next to its virgin brethren. He tucked them away and gave it not another thought. His only means of distraction restricted, the Nightwalker resumed pacing before deeming it annoyingly loud. He commandeered one of the empty seats and began to play with his lighter. Not just opening and closing, but opening with a toss or lighting it with a flourish. It took a fair level of coordination, but wasn't anything you'd catch a street performer trying to earn his food with.
"A couple hours won't hurt it..." Ellen mumbled, in a half-hearted attempt to console the newly met Abwehran. "And besides, usually when a package starts smoking I vent it, so this was rather nice of me." With the source of odor now gone, Ellen seemed content to roll over and fall asleep, trusting the other occupants of her shuttle not to do anything stupid as she did so.
PAUSE!
>ON
It had been a couple of days since the young woman had left Tami, left her home, a place she had not left since YE 31. Now, she found herself on Yamatai, another planet she had not been on in a long while, but now, it held something different for her. Her shuttle, a Black Starbryte-L, lightly touched down on the landing pad of one of the small-time shipping ports, somewhere near the edge of Kyoto. Nearby was a series of warehouses where people could leave things to be shipped across the galaxy, for a nominal fee.
It was the girl's job now, to be one of those people that shipped things. So, to do that, she exited the shuttle, short, black hair and aqua eyes surveying the area as her hands found their way into the pockets of her brown leather bomber jacket, a pair of blue jeans keeping her legs warm, although she likely didn't need it. For now, she was looking for someone, or something. She had been told to contact a 'Mr. Face'.
Another head popped out of the vehicle, a taller woman, with dark black sunglasses that hid her eyes, her thick black hair tied into a ponytail behind her. A little nervous to be seen on Yamatai, the woman was tall and imposing, especially among the normal Yamataian citizenship. She'd met with the girl back on Tami-- a place she never thought she'd be back to-- and the two had come to a mutually agreeable business arrangement. There was something about her that had reminded the woman of business she'd done before. Not wanting to attract too much attention to the shuttle, the woman told the girl, "Go ahead, I'll watch things here." She loosened the tie around her neck, ever since she worked for that damn Origin she'd gotten in the habit of wearing them.
"I doubt you'll need to, this is Yamatai, even if it's what could be considered the shady part," the smaller Yamataian woman answered, fully trusting that what she was saying was true, though it could very well not be.
Muscles flexed under the taller woman's coat, "Go on," she encouraged. It wasn't exactly the shuttle or the girl she was worried about. The cats could generally be counted on to be racists towards her, and it wasn't like she hadn't caused some trouble in a place that looked a lot like this in the past. In any case, being careful with who saw her here was the woman's top priority. She pulled her datapad from her hip pouch and went over the itinerary once more. Not for any real reason other than to occupy her time. Check the local weather. News? Nothing really notable, though the latest NPN reports brought a smile to her lips and a chuckle to her throat.
The girl waved dismissively at her counterpart and walked off, boots making a dull thud as she sauntered toward one of the adjacent warehouses. However, before she could get there, her communicator went off, and she picked it up. "Hello?" she answered, but a tone told her that there was a video message instead of a normal call.
The volumetric window that popped up proved to be completely unnecessary as all it showed was a blue background with the black outline of a face in the middle. a voice, slightly modulated but obviously Nepleslian in origin, then spoke to her.
"Go to the third warehouse, inside you will find my package. There will be a man guarding it. He will stay with the package until it is delivered, understood?" the voice commanded her. She nodded, answering the voice with an easy "Of course, got it."
In a few minutes, she had made her way inside the third warehouse, and began looking.
The warehouse was filled with a myriad of crates for purposes beyond anyone's guess but Mr. Face- if he even owned all of it. Amidst this, however, was a very large anomaly: a grey-skinned, four-armed hulk of a thing known to the Universe as an Abwehran Nightwalker. Goggles dangled around his neck, leaving glowing eyes free to observe the dim warehouse unobstructed; a cigar was firmly clamped between his great jaws which seemed to permanently possess a smile to some degree. His two upper arms were loaded with tattoos, easily visible as his black shirt was sleeveless; his pants and boots were similarly nondescript and dark. A dragon glared from either shoulder- one black, one red- and black ink looped around his left forearm in a series of rings varying in breadth. All ten fingers bore unique dragon heads. His lower arms were oddly devoid of tattoos in comparison.
At first sight of the small- and in his opinion miniscule- Yamataian, he stood up from his seated position on a nondescript crate, and greeted her with a rolling rumble of a voice. "Looking for something?" The tone was casual, as if he regularly found himself in dimly lit warehouses in shady districts to rendezvous with total strangers.
The admittedly tiny woman looked up at the rather monstrous Abwerhan, and coughed amicably through a slightly forced smile as she took in a bit more cigar smoke than she intended, but she didn't let it stop her. "Ahh- yeah, I'm looking for you," she said, "and that," she finished, pointing to the box he was apparently guarding.
"Mr. Face wants me to deliver it to Nepleslia. Got a problem with that?" The minuscule woman crossed her arms in a display of defiance, as if to ward off any disbelief the nightwalker may have. "And in case you need to know, I'm Ellen Katsuragi, of the Roc, so's you don't think I'm just some random kid or anything."
Rüd Grülik chuckled lightly, amused by her spunk. "No problem." He bent down, scooped up the box in question with one heavily muscled arm and strode toward Ellen. "Lead the way." It wasn't that the Nightwalker was overly trusting, nor that he underestimated little miss Katsuragi- rather, he was physically incapable of worry and concern.
It was a good thing that the woman guarding the shuttle wasn't drinking anything, because as she saw the large, four-armed man approach there would've been liquid spewed all over the landing pad. She estimated he was probably about a foot taller than she was, towering over the tiny Katsuragi as the two walked back towards her. He wasn't just tall, but built, too. It made her little wings flutter just to look at him in his sleeveless shirt. Luckily, the glasses nicely hid her oogling eyes. "We're getting a passenger, too?" she asked, tilting her head down towards Ellen, sneaking another glance at the Abwehran over the top of the rim of her glasses. "Or is he just doing the heavy lifting?"
"Not a passenger, part of the delivery, I guess," Ellen responded, frowning slightly. She wasn't entirely certain she needed even more people on board her shuttle, but as she had gotten the slightly bigger model, it didn't matter quite as much.
Coming out to find a Lorath was not at all what he had anticipated; it was an intriguing surprise, but of the good kind. They were always so tall- or maybe Ellen was just really short and skewing his perspective. Either way, he easily outsized the winged woman by a third of a meter at least, he guessed. Rüd's grin seemed to stretch a little wider at the question. After plucking the cigar from his mouth, he answered with his own question, "Is that a problem? Call it insurance." He tucked the cigar back in his mouth before realizing it was at its end; With a shrug, he tossed it to the ground and stamped it out.
Ellen shrugged. "Not my place to complain, I guess, since I'm getting paid for it. Mister Face says you're part of the package, you're part of the package. Now, get in the shuttle so we can leave this place. It looks like it's gonna rain soon." Ellen did just that, making her way- quite easily due to her size- into the shuttle, and getting into the Pilot's seat. "Just put the box anywhere back there, there's plenty of room" She called back to the extra-large grey thing.
The woman at the shuttle bit back a comment on the delivery boy's package, and instead just introduced herself. "Nyezeh, pleased to meet you," she told him, pushing her sunglasses back into place and following Ellen into the shuttle. As she stepped in side, she fully unzipped her jacket and threw it at the co-pilot's seat, revealing twin chubbies hung from hooks on the harness she wore underneath and of course her jet black wings. Part of her was showing off that she meant business, the other part was trying to impress the four-armed man. "I am going to drive-- eventually, right?" she said to the girl in the pilot's chair, an air of annoyance to her tone, "You're going to let me drive one of these days. That's what I do. Drive."
Seeing the shuttle gave the Abwehran brief pause and evoked a silent sigh. It was the one and only- but glaring and occasionally painful- detriment of his size: fitting into the smaller races' worlds and constructs. Before proceeding, he had to address a matter that had flitted across his mind. "Fyunnen, right? House or caste or whatever." He absentmindedly flicked at one of his own ears, indicating his method deduction. Then he proceeded with the most dignity he could to shift through the doorway with his broad and tall frame, leading with the still undetermined 'package.' Within the shuttle, he set it down against the wall just outside the cockpit.
As her surveyed the interior of the shuttle, he noticed it was not exactly standard inside- several folding bunks had been bolted to the wall nearest him, and along the opposite he could see the top half of a hovercar that had been stowed sideways within the confines of the shuttle. On top of those items, several footlocker-style crates were strapped to the port wall, apparently the main storage area for at least one of the girls' gear, though as they were locked Rued had no way of peeking a glance inside if he wanted to.
He spoke up again, as if realizing quite late that introductions had been made... sort of. "Rüd," he offered, his tone deepening even more as he reverted to his native accent. He took note that the Lorath was armed, but made no comment. It was sensible, and in many places- like Nepleslia- it was necessary. Even the Nightwalker was reconsidering his decision to undertake this venture without a gun. His prowess in unarmed combat was significant, but he couldn't wrestle a bullet.
"Welcome Rued," Ellen called back, ignoring the Lorath's complaints about not being able to drive while the Abwehran boarded her shuttle, before addressing them in a somewhat annoyed way, as if she had already answered several times. "I told you, Nyezeh, It's a Ship, I fly it. You can drive the A2 if we need to take it out, but the Roc is mine, no ifs, ands, or buts."
Jolokia gave Ellen the fakest pout that the Yamataian probably had ever seen, at least since the last time she had made that face at her. With her eyes still hidden behind her sunglasses, the Lorath woman's head turned from her pushy pilot back towards where the Abwehran was securing the package. "That's right, Fyunnen-- " she confirmed pulling the hair tie out from the back of her head and letting her wavy locks bounce around her shoulders. Now that she was less in danger of damp Kyoto weather, she felt more free to get comfortable. "You ever been to Lor?" she inquired of the shuttles newest passenger, "Or are you just a fan of Lorath?"
His smiled became a grin. "Spent most of a year there. Like the people, I think. The politics are too... well, they're not for me. Love the creativity and expression." He crossed both sets of arms, and his grin quirked, as if taking note of an inside joke. "We got along pretty well. And the wings... A shame most are... that you can't fly. Elysians in flight is an impressive sight. Still, pretty though."
As Rüd mentioned the Elysians, Nyezeh's lips turned downward, but maybe it wasn't that which bothered her. "You have me at a disadvantage, then," she noted, "I've met very few Abwehrans in my line of work." She stretched out her hands and arms above her head, interlocking her fingers and cracking them as she streched her wings out as well, not to mention the whole work out giving her shirt buttons a run for their money. And while her little black wings certainly were not as impressive as the gigantic appendages of the Elysians, the Fyunnen felt they had their own charm.
"You guys want me to wait so you can keep flirting, or shall I just take off, then?" Ellen asked, a joking grin on her face as she peeked back from her seat in the cockpit, before turning back to her console. "But in all seriousness, we should probably get going before someone thinks we've been sitting too long or something." Truthfully, she just wanted to get the job over with. She was running low on funds and probably only had enough to pay for fuel and food for a month at most, and that was if nothing else went wrong.
A hair tie took flight from the co-pilot's seat towards the face of the Yamataian pilot. "Shut. Up," the Lorath said with a laugh as she turned back around it sit properly for take-off and started flicking switches and going through the pre-flight checklist with Ellen. "Are you radioing the tower for clearance or am I?" she asked, holding a finger over the comm controls. "Or should I just check the map?"
"Are you just going to sit there and ask your passengers for their permission, or are you actually going to do something?" it was the lightest of jests, indicated by a much smoother tone. Otherwise he had nothing to contribute to that conversation. He sat on the edge of the nearest bunk and propped his lower pair of elbows on his knees, clasping burly hands together. His upper arms came to rest limply over their southern counterparts. His eyes drifted aimlessly, but found themselves alighting on the Lorath's armaments. "Good guns," was all he said in a tone quiet enough that she might not have even heard.
"I already got clearance, so plot us a course if you think you can do better than the computer, but I bet the computer can get us there faster," Ellen teased, nabbing the hair tie and stowing it for later revenge as the ship rumbled slightly, coming to life before lifting off the ground gracefully. The sudden feeling of smoothness let them know that they were in the air, aided by the fact that the downward view of the Starbryte's cockpit was stellar, and they could watch the ground get smaller as the black shuttle ascended into the clouds above the planet, making its way toward orbit so they could leave for once.
"Planning any other stop offs from here to Nepleslia?" Nyezeh asked absentmindedly as she confrimed the computer's course. She was no ace pilot and agreed with the captain of this tiny boat that following the AI suggestion was likely the most prudent. "Alright, all systems look green," she reported, "We are good to go." Once that was settled, the Lorath woman saw fit to answer the man's compliment on her equipment. Keeping her eyes on the front of the shuttle, she commented, "Origin makes some good firearms. And some good trucks. You can damn near drive them with a huge aether hole right through the block."
"Make good just about anywhere they try," the Abwehran agreed. "Those in particular, I'd say, are solid stock." He chuckled at a memory of his, but gave no inclination to his travel companions to what was so funny. Were they colleagues by any notable measure, he would have gladly done so; as it stood, he still registered this relationship as nothing beyond a brief meeting between contractors. No point in blathering on- and besides, it probably wouldn't interest them.
Ellen didn't seem to mind the blathering about guns, as she was currently busy setting the ship up to fling itself out of Yamatai's gravity well before starting its FTL drive and heading toward the other nation's until recent capital at speeds which would surely boggle the human mind. "If you guys want to talk guns, I have a box of them in here somewhere. Grew up on Nepleslia, then survived years on occupied Tami." she nodded sagely at this information, before continuing. "Never have enough guns, I think."
The ship made to shudder slightly as it moved on, and Ellen got up from the Captain's seat, having put the Roc on Autopilot. Before too long, it was out of the Gravity well, and the FTL drive could be heard charging before the stars out the cockpit suddenly lengthened and turned into one mass of white.
"Never have enough guns is right," Jolokia agreed. "When I busted off of Tami during the squiddy attacks I snagged a bunch of guns from my employer," she explained, enjoying the view from her seat, "Of course I ended up on a merc ship with the craziest captain you'll ever meet--" The Lorath trailed off, thinking of the adventure that landed her aboard the Phoenix. "Anyway," she said, sitting up, "Ellen's got a box of pea-shooters back there," she turned her head around again, quickly scanning to see if she could recognize the one the Captain had mentioned. "I prefer something a little more reliable. Lasts a long time and can put lots of big holes in a lot of things all at once."
"Hey, it's not like I'm rich!" the small shuttle captain defended herself. "I bought what was cheap, and besides, 10mm KZ isn't that bad of a round. It helps that I can find it for pennies on any civilized planet in this stupid galaxy, anyway." She seemed to be pouting as she stood, fingering something in her pocket. "Besides, If one of them breaks, there's plenty to replace it!" and with that she flung the hair-tie back at Nyezeh, a bit angrily.
"Mm. I'm partial to the big guns," contributed the Nightwalker. "Squaddies and explosives and the like. Although, I suppose its more of an acquired taste." He rose from his seat on the bunk, already becoming restless. His great shoulders rolled in exaggerated gestures, trying to sate his need for movement, action. "Being the biggest guy, you tend to end up lugging around all the heavy equipment. Launchers, heavy guns... They just kinda grew on me." A couple moments of his time as a mercenary cropped up in his mind's eye. Rüd relived them briefly before they settled once again in the back of his mind. He paid no mind to the hijinks in the cockpit.
As the hair tie bounced off of the big sunglasses the Lorath wore, her lips twisted into a callous smile. She enjoyed teasing the pint-sized Yamataian. "So I ended up BACK on Tami after spending some time in a hospital-- broken bones, squiddy poison in my system-- not pretty. Not the worst I've been. And that's where I met this firecracker." Nyezeh flicked a finger towards Ellen. "What about you?" the question was pointed to Rüd directly as she sat now off the side of her seat, legs folded atop one another as she sprung the hair tie between two fingers. "You spend a lot of time on the Kyoto docks?"
Rüd stopped pacing to meet Nyezeh's gaze and answer simply, "I get around. Been to Nep Prime, Kyoto, Elysia, UOC- even made it out to visit the Freespacers before they got spaced." The ironic pun did not escape the Abwehran, but he chose to ignore it. He seemed slightly demured by the mention of the Freespacers, like a man mentioning the death of a friend years past; it was something he had come to terms with, but it didn't make anything better. "And, of course, Lor. Tami, once, after all the squid business. Was thinking about going to Francia, that new Nep colony, when I got this job."
"So you've been there recently, then? To Tami, I mean," Ellen asked, seeming interested. "It only just got liberated, and it still amazes me how quickly people get back to places after something like that happens." Ellen seemed to be done with the cockpit for the moment, and made her way to the bunks, pulling down the top one and climbing up to lie down on it. "It'll be about three hours" she muttered, referring to the travel time, if anyone cared.
Rüd nodded. "Yeah. Love the gravity- I mean, in comparison to most of the other worlds. Nothing beats Abwehr on that count. Nothing feels right without that weight of home."
"Well, nothing's shooting us way out here," Nyezeh commented mostly to herself, unclipping the harness strap across her collarbone and pulling it over her arm and wings. "Lor was home, but home has too many shitty memories for me, I'd be fine never going back," she claimed with pursed lips, setting the guns and harness down the opposite side of the chair. If she couldn't drive, at least she could sit in the cockpit where it kinda felt like she was driving. Not really. Truth be told, Jolokia was just too lazy to get up and get in a bunk. "Maybe when I make it big, maybe then."
A chuckle escaped the Abwehran at making it big, but he said nothing. He'd heard that line more times than he could count from all sorts of people, of all races. It amazed him how universal some desires and personalities were. Although he did have one question, "What will you do with it?" That was always the most definitive aspect of someone trying to 'make it big.'
"Hmm," the Lorath hummed, leaning up against the seat back as she thought about surreptitiously coming into a large sum of money, "Probably buy a nice big place. Something comfortable-- maybe a ship. Do some travelling--" her voice trailed off for a moment, before she realized how sappy that sounded and a big grin crossed Nyezeh's face as she sat back up, "Or maybe I'd just buy a nice beach somewhere and spend the rest of my days with Lorath wine, Abwehran cigars, and a truckfull of cabana boys."
"Why do you think I bought the shuttle?' Ellen asked rhetorically. "You start somewhere, you know. it's not like one days you suddenly wake up and are 'big' or something." She frowned at the ceiling as she did so, thinking about her past. "Being big is nice, though, I hear. You can do whatever the hell you want and not worry about anything."
Rüd laughed twice more: once at the Lorath's 'truckfull of cabana boys,' and again at Ellen's, 'being big is nice... I hear.' "Never had a need for all that money. I get around just fine, get to do what I want no problem." He added a shrug as if there might be more, but he couldn't find the words.
Ellen rolled over on the bunk, looking at Rued's head from roughly eye level. "But I'm sure you don't have everything you might want. And even with money, there's always something you can't buy." She rolled back over, looking at the ceiling again, and feeling around in a small alcove in the wall for a pillow and blankets. She seemed intent on taking a nap.
"I just don't want to have to care about it anymore, ya'know?" Nyezeh offered her shuttle companions, as her head fell back against the seat. She took aim at Ellen's bunk, but the elastic hair tie slipped and shot backwards against the ship's console instead. It was definitely too much effort for her now to turn and retrieve it. "And the wine, cigars, and a couple of wardrobes full of new clothes," she couldn't help but be materialistic. "Or maybe just fill a big pool full of--" as she watched Rüd stick his hands into his pockets, she paused.
His lower hands dug into his pockets: one withdrew a simple, but elegant tin; the other revealed a lighter, its sterling silver form embossed with an insignia neither would be able to identify. With a simple flick of his thumb, Rüd popped the tin open to reveal three pristine cigars. A third hand stuck one in his mouth, while the other two simultaneously pocketed the cigar tin and lit the one pinned between his teeth. After a few puffs, he gave his answer, "I've got work; I've got my smokes." He shrugged. "Yeah, I've got what I want, the Insatiables aside." 'The Insatiables' was the Abwehran's term for that which could never be sated, but had to be regularly tended: hunger, lust, and personal vices. His eyes met Nyezeh. Feeling cordial, he asked, "Want one?"
"New ship, no smokes, please." Ellen asked, politely, not trying to be rude about it, but pointing out that she didn't appreciate it. "Normally I wouldn't care but this one still smells nice. Smoke all you want when we're outside, though," she explained, though it seemed that she was worrying over nothing- the smoke from the Cigar could be seen swiftly making its way toward a vent, to be filtered out and purified quickly. Still, not all of it went there, and Ellen was clearly not amused, especially being near the top of the shuttle at the moment, where there was more smoke than she was used to having at her height.
The Lorath's arm was already stretched out towards the Abwehran as the captain made her plea. "I'm dying for one," Nyezeh admitted, but after glancing towards the source of the petit voice of command on the ship, she relented with, "How about once we reach Nepleslia?" Her arm went limp and she squirmed around in the seat, pulling it in and reclining back. Now there were three discomforts she had to deal with, and that was certainly three too many. What was going to simply be a long trip now felt like it was going to take forever.
Rüd plucked the cigar from his mouth with a sigh and examined it briefly, looking forlorn. "But it's fresh." Despite sounding like an argument, the Nightwalker abided the order, snuffing it on the convenient sink which he extracted from the starboard wall and replaced immediately thereafter. The cigar was put back in its home, looking mangled and abused next to its virgin brethren. He tucked them away and gave it not another thought. His only means of distraction restricted, the Nightwalker resumed pacing before deeming it annoyingly loud. He commandeered one of the empty seats and began to play with his lighter. Not just opening and closing, but opening with a toss or lighting it with a flourish. It took a fair level of coordination, but wasn't anything you'd catch a street performer trying to earn his food with.
"A couple hours won't hurt it..." Ellen mumbled, in a half-hearted attempt to console the newly met Abwehran. "And besides, usually when a package starts smoking I vent it, so this was rather nice of me." With the source of odor now gone, Ellen seemed content to roll over and fall asleep, trusting the other occupants of her shuttle not to do anything stupid as she did so.
PAUSE!
