Meia's dread tumbled end over end, though what seemed like an endless corridor of flashing blue light.
The kaliedescopic view was nauseating, and the bumpy nature of the ride did not help matters.
Meia was dimly aware of something coming up fast behind her, on a direct collision course. And, just when she was convinced she was about to die...
There was a flash, and her dread was expelled back into normal space.
At approximately the same velocity as a runaway missile.
Meia tumbled through space in her dread at high speed, whatever was pursuing her mysteriously vanished...
<----->
Sunlight streamed in through the windows of Vicious' chosen room of the safehouse, illuminating a fairly grim, forbidding and cold wintery day.
As he awoke, with a mild headache, he realized it was the day before he was to meet with Gren.
Preparations MUST be made.
Vicious mumbled a something, probably profane.
Then he got out of bed, shook off his headache (after all, both personalities had felt worse), got dressed and equipped, and ran over what he had to do today.
1) Check on the warehouse.
2) See what wasn't there which he needed.
3) Get stuff he needs.
4) Find something else to occupy his time.
This plan firmly in mind, he moved off to wake up Lin..
Dropping her hands back onto the controls, 'Meia' shoved one ball down and the other up, slowing at least the Dread's roll... then moved on to trying to stop the tumbling.
". . . well, I suppose that would have been what that lady was talking about . . ."
Meia's dread, ever so slowly, began to right itself. However, the movements of the fighter began to slow, but the momentum, lacking anything major to check it, continued unabated.
Meia caught the distinct impression of struggling as she tried to coax the dread into moving...
As Vicious entered Lin's room and attempted to wake him up, he immediately noticed two things.
One, Lin's pillow was soaked with blood.
And Two, while he was breathing, however faintly, he refused to wake up...
Checking that the dread wasn't immediately going to hit anything, Meia/Rez then started tapping on the central panel, trying to bring up the scanners - and get a status diagnostic, or something...
Pause.
"Well. Fuck."
The unfortunate lackey clearly needed emergency medical attention.
Vicious was fairly certain there wasn't any to be had on Callisto, and in his alternate minds eternal slackness, hadn't thought the injury was that serious...
..because Lin hadn't said anything about it, and it wasn't like his brains were leaking out or anything.
Carthrat internally slapped himself, then tried to remind his woefully underattentive mind how serious the situation was, and he couldn't afford to overlook *anything*.
So saying, he tried to recall first aid training on bleeding head wounds.. and wondered if it wasn't just a *little* too late to do something about it.
Shoving thoughts aside for the moment, he checked over Lin's wound (carefully!) to see the extent of the damage...
Taking extra effort to not cause more harm than good.
Meia's instruments all seemed to check out okay. After some investigation, She determined that the modified Dread's power plant was faltering, and only operating at 35% of capacity...
Which must have been why she was having a devil of a time getting the Dread to move on it's own...
Which in turn raised the questions of where the hell the dread was currently going, and where the hell the nearest planet or space station or anything was...
So, Rez/Meia rolled the dread over slowly a few times, doing a visual search to see if there was anything obviously close by...
Vicious could see that the bleeding had stopped, though the damage to the skull itself was troubling, but not necessarily fatal.
Medical attention DID seem warranted...
Shit.
He was on Callisto, a planet with no women, too many backstabbing rouges, and no law.
Where the HELL was he going to get a doctor?
For that matter, would getting a doctor be a smart thing to do, anyway?
Vicious sighed mentally, cursing his own incompetence, and the fact that Lin should have said *something*. After all, if you can walk and talk and take orders, nobodies gonna assume much is wrong with you unless you say so...
Well. First things first. Vicious carefully moved Lin off the bed, changed the sheets and pillow, and tucked him back in. Finding an icepack on the fridge, he stuck it on the wound to make sure it closed faster. Hopefully. Decent medical attention would have to wait. No way was Vicious moving Lin to the warehouse...
Pondering for a moment, he took out his cellphone and made a call to said warehouse...
Meia didn't see anything nearby. Off in the distance, there were hints and flashes that she wasn't alone, but the only thing nearby, aside from the starfields was a small asteriod belt...
On the third ring, a low, sultry woman's voice answered Vicious.
"Identify yourself."
"It's Vicious," replied Carthrat.
Hang on... wasn't Callisto supposed to be free of women?
Dammit. I'm *way* too slack to pull off Vicious...
OOC:
(A) 'Hints and flashes'?
(B) I can see the asteroid belt? Does that mean there's some activity there, is it right next to me, or is there some other reason I can see it?
(C) What direction are they? The way I'm already coasting, or wha?
OOC:
(A) You can see flashes in the far distance, too rythmic...or maybe erratic? to be naturally occuring.
(B) The asteroid belt is nearby, that's why you can see it. It's in line of sight.
(C) You'll pass the asteroid belt, on your right side in a few minutes.
There was a faint 'click', and the woman's voice was abruptly replaced by a man's reedy tenor.
"What can I do for you, sir?" He asked briskly.
"My companion was injured while travelling to the safe house," replied Vicious, managing to convey an 'I couldn't care less' tone of voice.
"He requires medical attention. Perhaps you know someone on Callisto who would be suitable for his needs?..."
Not having seen any obvious signs of activity around the asteroids, Rez kicked the dread into a slow loop, swinging the dread towards the lights.
"Not like I have anything else to try right now..."
Unfortunately, the Dread seemed to struggle with the instructions, carrying them out at a very slow speed.
The low power indicators were flashing across the board...
"Great. Just great. I don't even know how the hell you recharge one of these... and..."
A sigh.
Dropping the engines back into idle, Rez pulled the book out from where it'd been stashed earlier and flicked through it to find if there was a segment on the power plant...
Suddenly, a light in the holographic comm panel flashed, and the words, "Audio Only" flashed across the screen...
Rez blinked, and stabbed the flashing 'accept', as before whent talking to Hibiki.
A man's voice, with a low, bored sounding tone broke into Meia's cockpit.
"-you need some help over there?"
Suddenly, her tactical display showed erratic activity in the asteriod belt...
"Yeah... I could use a little, if you can."
OOC: Okay, from here on in, I'll label these with character names until you guys end up in the same area.
'Vicious'
"Yessir. there's a discreet medic not far from there. I'll send him right over." The man said briskly. "Was there anything else?"
OOC: *IF* we end up in the same area. There's always a chance something unforetold may happen. o-O
IC: "After he has completed his business with Lin, I will come and inspect the warehouse myself. Apart from that, nothing.
Goodbye, sir."
It's always courteous to wait for the other party to hang up before doing so yourself, so Vicious waited for the man to reply.
OOC: 'Meia'
IC:
Out of the asteroid belt, an oddly shaped fighter emerged, a spherical, clear cockpit embedded in a faded red fuselage that swept forward into a wicked looking point, with a large, odd looking cannon mounted beneath it.
The fighters wings were at perpendicular to the cockpit, jutting straight out and ending in menacing looking fins, tipped with what looked like guns of some kind.
Inside the cockpit, Meia could just barely make out a green haired man, when her comm spoke again.
"Can it be fixed, or do you need a tow?"
Rez frowned.
"Probably going to need a tow... I'm not sure how bad it is. I don't think I can fix it right here, anyway."
OOC: 'Vicious'
IC:
The man seemed slightly put off by having Vicious address him so politely.
"Er...goodbye, sir." he echoed, and quickly hung up.
OOC: 'Meia'
IC:
"Roger. Is your hull made up of a magnetic alloy?" her comm speaker asked.
A wince.
"I wouldn't know, but I doubt it."
For a moment, Carthrat wondered why he treated someone so far below him with such politeness.
Shrugging it off, he decide to amuse himself by thinking of all the anime chicks... who were real.
Dammit, Vicious was a human too, right?
At least, Carthrat hoped.
OOC: 'Meia'
IC:
The green haired man sounded faintly amused through the crackle of the comm. "You don't know?"
There was a brief pause, and he spoke again. The engines on the fighter stopped, and it began to drift toward him.
"Well, I'll give it a shot anyway. Cut your throttle." he instructed.
OOC: 'Vicious'
IC: After less than twenty minutes of waiting, Vicious' musing were interrupted by a brisk knock at the door.
Vicious peers through the little peephole.
OOC: Vicious
IC: Through the peephole, Vicious could see a fairly tal young man, with messy brown hair, and a slightly bored look, dressed in a loose overcoat, smoking a cigarette.
Vicious nodded to himself, and unlocked the door from his side, opening it a crack.
"Enter," he said, before moving off, all nonchalant-like, towards Lin's room.
OOC: Vicious
IC: The young looking man followed, nodding his head. As Vicious moved off, he could sense the young man stop moving, roughly halfway toward Lin's room...
Vicious didn't turn around. "How much do you want?"
There was a slight rustling of the material of a coat, and the young man spoke in a drawling, reedy tenor.
"I'll settle for some information, thanks." he said slowly in an amused tone. Vicious heard the distinctive sound of a gun's hammer being cocked.
"Please don't be alarmed. I'd rather not shoot you, but I couldn't think of anyway to accompish this without the gun that ended without me with a sword in my gut." the young man explained.
"If you'll just turn around, slowly?" he requested.
Calm is good.
Vicious turned around slowly, and stared the man full in the eye.
"What kind of... information?"
OOC: 'Vicious'
IC:
The brown-haired man smiled placidly. "Why have the Red Dragons come to Callisto, Vicious?"
To kill you all. All of you! Ahahahahahahahaha! And rape your woman- wait, you're on Callisto. Losers.
Let's see, now. Man X has the gun, ok. And I'm deprived of a sword, which wouldn't help me much in this confrontation, anyway.
On the other hand, if I deprive him of his weapon, I can beat the crap outta him, sword or no sword. And he wouldn't know about the mini-crossbow on my wrist, which is handy.
Now, I'll bet 10 to 1 he's overconfident, which is good. Now we begin to... stall, while hoping for a distraction.
The lesson learnt today, Carthrat: IT'S NOT PARANOIA IF THEY'RE REALLY AFTER YOU!
"In order to secure negotiations."
The man's eyes narrowed, and the amused expression tightened into a frown.
"I won't insult you by assuming you'd divulge the precise nature of the negotiations, but I need something a bit more specific, sir...May I call you Vicious?" The man didn't really wait for an answer.
"Material or Administrative negotiations?"
"What's here to administrate? Rabble? And in the middle of a depression, no less?
Quite plainly, the only reason I would come to this wretched moon is in order to procure items that somebody more important than me wishes to hold.."
The man's face relaxed slightly. "Fair enough," he said amiably. "My superiors would like an estimated time of departure, as well."
"A day. A week. A month. All depends on a variable beyond my control," replied Vicious.
"Gotcha," there was a slight pause as Rez/Meia dragged the balls back to the central position, leaving the dread to simply coast with no forward thrust.
"And nope, I don't know," Meia almost chuckled, but caught it, "I guess the question never really came up before."
OOC: Meia
IC:
The oddly shapped fighter pulled out ahead of Meia, and his engines cut out
The two fighters drifted, single file for a long moment, and a long cable with a strange looking metallic device on the end began to trail, bobbing from the red fighter.
As the cable drifted closer, the gentle bob slowly died off until the metallic device on the end of the cable was making a beeline straight for the Dread's hull.
"Looks like you have your answer," Meia's comm speaker said. "I can take you as far as Callisto. You're on your own when we get there."
"Thanks, I appreciate it."
A pause.
"Who are you, anyways?"
OOC: 'Meia'
IC:
The metallic device made and audible clank as it attached itself to Meia's hull.
Her comm spoke again in reply, and the lazy grin in the reply was almost audible. "Me? I'm just your average cowboy..."
An amused snort. "Heh. Wouldn't expect to find many cows round these parts."
OOC: Meia
IC:
She could see the flare of the fighter's engine re-igniting, and her dread lurched as the fighter began to tow it in the direction of the flashes of light.
Her comm speaker gave a muted laugh. "You must not be from around here," he said, cryptically.
"You could say that." A pause. "Callisto's a moon of Jupiter, right?"
OOC: Vicious
IC:
"My superior have carved out a comfortable niche here, sir. I'm sure you can understand that they don't want a war with the Red Dragons...but neither do they want incursion. They will allow you to operate for three more days, unhampered. after that, steps will be taken."
The brown haired man smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry it's necessary to pass on the message at gunpoint, but your reputation DOES precede you, Vicious."
OOC: 'Meia'
IC:
"Has been for centuries," came the casual reply. "Why do you ask?"
"Making sure I know where I am, I got shaken up a little."
OOC: Meia
IC:
"Oh? What happened?"
Vicious merely shrugged.
"Long story, and I'm not entirely sure myself. Messed this up pretty well, though."
OOC: Vicious
IC:
"In any case," the man said, putting the gun back in his pocket, "I've passed on the message, and we each doubtless have better things to do than stare at each other grimly all day." he said, glibly. "Such as getting your aide tended to."
"In case you think me lax in putting my weapon away, I'll tell you now, my partner is holding the medic you requested outside. Once I leave the house, he'll be released." With that, the brown haired man turned to leave.
Vicious raised an eyebrow. He should've thought of that.
Hell, he should've thought of alot.
In and of itself, thinking was essential to his survival. As was planning and plotting.. he was so dead.
"Your generosity astounds me," he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
OOC: Vicious
IC:
"Not at all. We have no desire to pick a fight with the Red Dragons...but we won't be dictated to in our own territory. Good day, Vicious." said the young man, and slipped out the door.
Not five minutes later, there was another, more tenative knock at the door.
Vicious walked over to the door, and checked through the peephole again.
OOC: Meia
IC:
"Messed up? What were you trying to do?" Meia's comm speaker asked. In the distance, the flashes of light grew less faint, and more numerous as the erratic flashing gradually resolved into more indentifiable patterns.
OOC: Vicious
IC:
Through the peephole Vicious now saw a badly flustered man in his fifties, with wispy white hair and a mustache on a stangely florid face...carrying a little black bag.
Vicious opened the door, looking down at the man.
"I take it you're the medic?"
OOC: Vicious
IC:
The medic nodded nervously, his already frazzled nerves fraying yet further under Vicious' imposing presence.
"Yessir."
Vicious stood aside. "After you. First door to the left."
"I mean my Dread got messed up, not that I messed up, although I guess I managed that as well."
Rez/Meia pulled out the book that was stashed down beside the seat, and started leafing through while talking.
OOC: Looking for... say... how to do in-depth diagnostics? Or anything relevant, really, like a power plant description.
OOC: Vicious
IC:
The old man nervous edged by Vicious, then practically sprinted down the hall to the room Lin was in. It was more than evident he was an old man, and the abduction and restraint, coupled with the menace of Vicious' presence was a little too much for him to handle.
OOC: Meia
IC:
Meia's serch of the instruction/maintenance manual turned up several step-by-step diagnostics, though they seemed simple, there were no overall system diagnostics, just a seperate one for each system.
She also located a description of a the power plant, but it was obviously useless, as it dealt with enery reaction chambers, whatever they were, and Meia's dread was not exactly standard issue, having been altered long before...
Her com crackled again, and spoke. "That's a pretty advanced looking fighter...what did you pick a fight with that could damage it that badly?"
Meia flicked back to the diagnostics page and started going over the steps to run through the power plant diagnostic...
"I'm not sure what the hell they are, really," she replied, lying glibly.
I don't wanna be explaining all this...
...and hopefully the diagnostic would tell her why the output of the powerplant was so dangerously low.
OOC: Meia
IC:
"Well, was it something to contact the Gate Authority about? Callisto usually keeps to itself, but the whole area will start causing trouble if there's sneak attacks..."
The steps to run through the powerplant diagnostic were fairly simple, Meia discovered. The OS had an interface with the necessary menus on the one of the tactical sub-screens...
Carthrat resisted the tempation to burst out laughing, and followed the doctor. Standing just outside the room, he questioned the doctor-
"How long will you be?"
No, I don't think anything'll be following me.
'I don't think there'll be any trouble. They were after me, and... well... if there were any left, you wouldn't have found me."
There was a slight pause as Meia found the correct subscreen and started tapping through the menus.
"What's this... gate authority, anyway?
OOC: Meia
IC: The bored tone lessened slightly to a somewhat incredulous one. "Where are you from, again?"
Meia found two submenus, one labeled 'Powerplant energy feed-Diagnostic', and a 'Powerplant Systems diagnostic'.
Off in the distance, the flashing lights began to take shape as the two fighters roared toward the icy moon of Jupiter as the giant planet itself loomed in the background...
OOC: Vicious
IC:
The older man called out in a shaky voice. "I-It's hard to tell, sir. A head wound left untreated for this long is difficult to manage carefully without incurring further damage..."
Vicious had expected such.
He didn't want to leave Lin alone with a strange doctor, but he didn't want to sit around and *wait* for however long, either.
He decided to wait an hour, and then see how Lin was.
Meia flicked the 'Powerplant Energy Feed Diagnostic' choice.
"Not from around here. You never told me who you were, either..."
OOC: Vicious.
IC: After a half an hour, the medic emerged cautiously, wiping his hands on a towel.
"How is he?" asked Vicious, without preamble.
OOC: Meia
IC:
The smirk in his voice was audible. "Actually, I did."
A 3-D image of the dread appeared on Meia's board, complete with glowing blue blue lines though it appeared, showing the hardly optimal power flow. The screen flashed. No leakage detected
"Hey, I was as specific as you were," Meia broke off with a muted snicker as she flicked out of the diagnostic and tapped the console, bringing up the diagnostic of the powerplant itself.
A chuckle. "If you want a specific answer, you should ask specific questions, Miss....?"
The Powerplant diagnostic was somewhat more revealing. Power regulating program corrupted. System reboot and engine shutdown recommended
Thoughts rapidly ticked through Rez/Meia's mind.
"Gisborn. Meia Gisborn" was the firm response, as the blue haired one unconsciously raised a hand to touch the ever-present hair ornament. Dropping the hand back down to the book with a quick shake of the head, Meia started flicking through the book again - this time looking for information on life support. After a moment, she found it. According to the book, Life support had an emergency battery that was good for three days of operation...
"Spike Spiegel." The voice on her comm told her, with a slightly wry sound.
There was a blink.
"Hm." What the hell. "A woman dumped me out here, and she told me to keep you alive. Man named Vicious is apparently trying to kill you, and... well... apparently he's someone I should know." A slight pause. "And no, I'm definitely not from anywhere around here."
As she spoke, Meia started flicking through the book again to figure out if there were any special procedures to doing a shutdown and restart on the fly.
The book referred her to a menu in the maintenance screens, where power cut off was apparently a menu option, along with a timed reboot....
"..." The speaker was silent for a few moments. "You know, I'd swear that you were nuts if you hadn't named Vicious. But he's been trying to kill me ever since he found me still alive. What's so special about this time?"
"Something's wrong with me, and that woman I mentioned knows what. She mentioned Vicious as a lead, and... well... like me, he isn't going to be acting quite like the Vicious you know,"
Meia flicked through the screens to see if she could find the status of the emergency battery. "I'm going to try rebooting my systems to see if it'll clean up this engine snafu, they're beat up... but I think what's stopping them working is a screwup in the regulatory system. If I power down my powerplant, it should hopefully let me reset the regulatory system back to the baseline, so when I power it back up... well.. it'll probably still be a touch iffy, but will hopefully give me enough power to move myself..."
After a moment, the display came up. The emergency battery was not QUITE at full power, but nearly.
Good enough.
"I see. So you'll be silent for a bit, hmm?"
"Probably, yep. Here we go..."
Meia brought up the menus as instructed in the book, and set the dread to come back online after a five minute period.
With a wince, she tapped the controls and...slowly...in sequence...all the lights on her screen save one went dead, leaving the blue haired girl in almost complete darkness, with barely enough light to see, the only bright source of light was the engine flare from the fighter towing her...
And in the darkened cockpit, the young... person... mused.
This isn't a dream...
Rez, Meia, whoever she was lifted a gloved hand and stared at it in the dim light.
There's no way this is a dream. It's too real, and too static. I don't dream like this... I've never dreamed like this...
I'm definitely Nathan. Definitely. The other possibility is that I could be Meia, and... that makes no sense. I'm completely not her, and years upon years of history like that is too much for...
Rez shuddered.
And I'm female. I swear I'm going to kill someone for this...
Order, whoever she is... she said that others from a forum are here. Four possibilities, really... Delphi, Evamod, Soulriders and... my one. Delphi I doubt, and it's not somewhere I stay much. Evamod just doesn't fit, mainly because... well... it's full of -kids-, even more than the others... which really puts it down to mine or Soulr-
Soulriders, probably, or at least it's my best guess... but I suppose at least whoever they are, I know them...
I wonder who else is here?
There was a pause, and the hand involuntary tightened into a fist as the strain of the events of the 'morning' continued to catch up.
And... I wonder what's happening at home... and...
Me vanishing without a word is likely to tear her up, a lot... and I think I'm going to be here for a while, it sounded like.
Meia growled involuntarily.
If I ever meet 'Order' in person, all the power in the world won't be enough...
The growl trailed off, and there was a resigned sigh.
But the alternative to order seems to be killing people, and decent people... and that's not something I think I can do...
It's not something I want to find out.
The cockpit returned to almost perfect silence for a time, broken only by slow, even breathing as Meia calmed herself down, tracing her fingers slowly along her headpiece.
I hope Meia's alright, wherever she is...
What a mess...
OOC: 'Meia'
IC: The light of the stars, and Spike's engine flare was all Meia could see for the five minute time limit.
When it had finally elapsed, a soft green glow lit the cockpit as her displays began powering up.
The cockpit was finally well lit, though the displays were still in 'sleeper' mode as the Dread's CPU came back online.
After a slow startup sequence, the sleeper function disengaged, and the panels and displays went active again, promting Meia for commands.
OOC: 'Vicious'
IC: The medic frowned thoughtfully, his work seeming to have settled his nerves somewhat.
"He'll be fine, sir. The skull was cracked, but only slightly. At worst, it's a severe concussion. Still...I'd advise getting him off of Callistio and to a proper doctor as soon as possible. Diagnosing a head wound is an iffy business, since even the smallest injury tends to bleed enough to make excessive blood loss a problem. I've cleaned and bound the wound, but it's a temporary measure, at best..."
Meia waited patiently until the systems came back online, then called up the diagnostic of the powerplant again...
Vicious nodded. "How physically capable is he?"
OOC: 'Meia'
IC: The diagnostic was no longer in red, but there was a flashing message on the screen.
Paxis core damaged. Efficency levels at 75 percent.
OOC: 'Vicious'
IC:
"Not very. I'd recommend keeping him where he is...He won't be very useful to you for about three days...that is, if he wakes up..."
"Great," Meia sighed, "although it's at least something." So saying, Rez/Meia started cycling through the diagnostics for various other systems on the dread...
OOC: Wanting a general overview of any other problems there may be...
Well, damn.
So much for having an ally.
Looks like you're on your own, 'Rat... not that there's anything odd about that.
"I see. Your aid is appreciated..."
OOC: My apologies, as I've left this far too long. I still have no idea what to do with you, 'Rat, but I'll make it up as I go along.
IC:
Vicious saw what appeared to be a warehouse/mechanic's bay. There were people moving all around, and no one seemed to want to meet his gaze.
The tired looking man watched Vicious carefully, waiting for some sort of orders as he closed the door...
OOC: It's ok, Bean. I've got no idea what to do, so we're even. ^^
IC:
Right. What to do.. what to do.. well, knowledge of just *who* is operating around here might be useful. Of course, can I just ask that out straight?
I hate ettiquite. I think I'll hate criminal ettiquite even more. Well..
"Take me to my ship," Vicious spoke in a dull monotone.
"Righto sir." the tired man said dully, leading the way across the hangar, weaving through and around various ships strewm about the warehouse.
OOC: Gack! Sorry I left this so long. @_@
IC: Vicious trails the man, keeping an alert eye out for any threats that might materialize..
OOC: ^^;; We seem to be swapping late posts...Gomen....
IC: No threats appear on the short jaunt through the warehouse, and momentarily, Vicious is standing in front of a familiar ship...
Vicious stared at the ship for a moment.
I wonder if it comes with a users manual?
He starts 'inspecting' it, wondering if anything will come back to him..
OOC: By inspect, I start wandering around and look at, er, anything which looks 'inspectable'.
Some time later, Meia's dreadcaught sight of another ship, drifting aimlessly as it performed a slow motion tumbling in the general direction Meia was traveling, and a proximity display on Meia's tac board lit up...
"Ah, Spike? I think I might have my power core back online . . . I might get you to drop me for a second so I can try and mane-"
Rez/Meia cut off suddenly as the sensor board flashed icons at her.
"And Spike, I see another dead looking ship. Give me a second . . . "
Tapping through her targeting controls, Rez/Meia tried to bring up a detailed view of the detected ship - or at least, some means of identification . . .
The voice coming from Meia's com was ever-so-slightly irritated now, as opposed to the bored tone she'd heard before.
"I'm not a taxi, y'know."
Meia's tac board scanned the vessel, then tagged it as friendly, and originating from the Nirvana...though the ID beacon was dead, so no more concrete ID was forthcoming...
"I didn't think I could get it back, but that core's a bit more resilient than I thought. This sure as hell ai-oh shit."
Meia tapped some buttons quickly to try and open a comm channel with the fighter, although she suspected very strongly it'd be no use.
Oddly, the comm DID have power, but it was patchy at best. Static blasted in Meia's ears as a prerecorded distress signal played, and inside the tumbling dread she caught sight of one of the odd biohazard suits the Nirvana carried...
Meia promptly tried comming the suit directly. Those suits had comm units, she recalled . . .
The response Meia got was quite faint, but the comm DID go active.
"Spike, can you drop me from your tow cable?" Meia paused a moment. "I need to see if my power plant can stand up to some maneuvering, and I really need to check that dead fighter - she's one of mine."
"All right." As he spoke the two cable unlatched with a dull thump, and Meia was floating freely again. "You need me to wait?"
"Could you? Even if I can maneuver . . . if she's alive in there, she's got no life support."
Not waiting for a response, Meia gave the two globes some forwards and backwards force respectively, and darted her dread towards the derelict with the best accelleration and sharpest turn she could manage.
OOC: IE, how sluggish is it? >_>
"Make it quick." Spike replied shortly. "I'm in a hurry."
The dread responded almost as though it were at full power. The sluggishness wasn't noticable at all, and the handling was still excellent, but an ever so slight lag durring acceleration hinted at troubles during the highest speeds...
Approaching the dead-in-space dread, Rez/Meia/Whoever switched back to the comm channel to the suit . . .
"Unidentified dread, this is Meia, do you hear me?"
*Bzzt* "Meia? You're alive?" *crackle*
The speaker was too faint to be identified, however.
"I'm mostly fine, but you really don't look so good. How's your life support in there?"
Meia dragged an inexperienced eye over the damage to Barnette's (yes, Barnette, I recognized her dread earlier, so I can recognize it now) dread and, well, tried to see just how horrible it was.
Barnette sighed. "It's actually not damaged...I turned it down to fifty percent to boost comm power...our propulsion is completely destroyed."
To Meia's eye, the superficial damage was light, consisiting of a few missing plates, and slightly warped fuselage, though the measure of internal damage was more difficult to gauge.
Meia winced
"That's the one thing you don't want to lose. Unsalvagable?"
"No, but Parfait will need a few spare parts..." Barnette opined, humming. "And a LOT of work. "
"One second."
Cutting the comm channel, Meia took a moment to swear - Shit! - before realizing belatedly that her comm channel to Spike was still open.
"Ah . . . Spike? Can you give Barnette here a tow? My engines are iffy, but I should be fine. Hers, though, are shot to bits . . . and I don't have towing capabilities on this thing." Meia crossed her fingers.
The smirk in voice was audible. "I'll take her to Callisto." he agreed. After that, you're on your own."
"Appreciate it." Meia's voice paused. "But, I still need to find Vicious . . ."
"You can have him when I'm done with him." Spike's voice was no longer lazy, and carried a trace of cold steel that warned Meia not to argue.
Meia bit off a retort. "We'll talk more on the way to Callisto. You need to hear this, but we need to get that dread to Callisto before anything -else- breaks in there . . ."
Tapping a few more points on the console, Meia reopened the comm channel back to Barnette's suit.
"Barnette, Spike will pick you up and tow you to the nearest spaceport. My powerplant's a bit iffy, but it looks like it'll hold."
"Acknowledged. I'm going to shut off the comm to bring life support fully back on line..." Barnette paused. "Actually, I'd better tell you now... I have a situation here..."
The connection momentarily went clear during the last sentence, and Meia realized that the connection wasn't faint, but rather, it was Barnette's VOICE that was...
Meia winced. Oh hell.
"How bad?"
As the dread continued to slowly spin, Meia noted that the environmental suit wasn't seated squarely on the seat. In fact, she could see a flash of green hair behind the helmet of the suit.
"I have a stowaway..."
Well, whatever horrible possibilities were going through Meia's mind, that wasn't one of them.
"Oh, geez . . . who?"
Barnette was making an attempt to keep her voice level, but the irritation was clearly audible. "Apparently, Pairfait looks the other way when Paiway takes naps in my cockpit." She grumbled. "When the alert sounded, she dove into the equipment storage...Unfortuantely, it was empty enough for her to fit, and here we are."
OOC: Vicious
IC:
The ship itself was a sleek craft that resembled nothing so much as a rectangular bullet. The top of the front, near the point, was covered by black, opaque windows. The body of the craft itself was featureless, save for two small, winglike fins near the middle. Mounted near the end was flat rectangular shape on either side that tapered into very 'engine-like' exhaust ports. On the back of the craft, a single, person sized door took up half the height of the craft...
"Well, I bet she won't be doing that again." Meia winced. "Someone needs to have words to Parfait as well, but I have the sinking feeling we won't be seeing the Nirvana anytime soon."
I am going to murder Order next time I see her again, I swear I am.
Barnette just sighed. "I need to get the Life Support back on completely. You'll explain that when we get wherever we're going, right?"
"Hey, at least it's not a long one." Meia flashed a wry smile. "Talk to you when we get there, it shouldn't be more than a few hours."
"Acknowleged." Barnette replied wearily, and the comm line went dead.
Out of the corner of her eye, Meia could see that Spike had re-aimed his tow cable, and with eerie silence, it attached itself to the hull of Barnette's dread, slowing the spinning of the fighter. As the cockpit came into view permanently, Meia got her first good look...just in time to see Barnette irritably pulling the helmet off of the suit, revealing two dark blue pigtails, and a sheepish expression.
Pointedly resisting the urge to smack her head into the wall, Meia commed Spike again. "Thanks again for the assist. So . . . about Vicious."
Spike's tone was guarded. "I'm listening." was all he said.
"Fine. My name is supposed to be Meia Gisborn. I went to sleep last night in my bed, and woke up this morning as someone else, and somewhere else. I'm not her, I handle things differently to her, and while I seem to have her skills and instincts I know a lot of stuff that she shouldn't know. I know your name, I know the name 'Vicious', I know the name 'Julia', and I know that you and Vicious are going to kill each other pointlessly, until this happened."
Spike made a bemused noise. "I'm impressed that you know this much, but you're not telling me anything I don't know." he pointed out. "Vicious and I have a long history, and It wouldn't suprise me if it turned out that way."
"You're going to Callisto because you're looking for Julia, right?"
"Yes." His tone was curt, with a bland sound to it, but there was an obvious warning to tread carefully in it.
"You asked for something you don't know. Vicious is there, but Julia is not." Meia paused for a moment. "And I'm told what happened to me also happened to Vicious. I was told to find him and to stop you from dying, and right now he's my only lead as to what's going on."
There was a long pause, which Spike finally broke. "Okay, you have my attention. Why should I believe you?"
Meia shrugged. "I've got no way to prove my story, really, except that I have a fighter that would be light years better than anything around here if the damn powerplant wasn't playing up, and that Vicious can confirm it, if he feels cooperative. Admittedly, I don't see that as very likely, but he will recognize me."
Spike considered this, then the distinctive sound of a lighter was heard, along with a long exhale. "Hmm...So what is it you want from me, then?"
"Apart from dragging my friends to Callisto?" Meia snickered, "Don't die on me, because that would mess things up, and let me tag along or help out if I can. Hopefully I won't be in your hair for very long."
Meia paused. "Oh, and if you could help me figure out what the hell to do landing on a foreign planet with no money or identification, it'd be appreciated. I don't know how stickly your authorities are."
Spike snorted. "Don't want much, do you?" he asked dryly. "I've got no problem with taking you to Callisto, and since the planet is overrun with crooks, you won't find much in the way of customs."
There was another long breath. "But it's for your own good that you're not running around much when we get there. When I last checked, there was a grand total of one woman on the planet, and you say she's not there. I can't be watching out for you while I look for him."
"I can take care of myself. And Faye's there too, actually."
So now what, dammit? Just mope around until it's time for the deal?
Well.. maybe it'd be worth taking the ship out and parking her in my backyard or something. Maybe. Oh well, I may as well 'inspect' the cockpit and try and work out how the fuck to fly the thing.
I am sooooooo screwed when Spike gets here, if the goons here don't kill me first.
Oh well, how different can it be from the schoolyard? Just, um, trust nobody and be ready to stab anyone who looks at me the wrong way. Yeah.
Vicious heads towards the door of the craft and looks for a doorhandle or something to get inside the cockpit with... then remembers something.
"The keys?"
OOC: Edit. Bleh. [/i]
OOC: Meia
IC: Spike sighed at that. "Figures. Oh well, that means Jet should be there soon, too. And you may be able to take care of yourselves, but I don't plan on having an entourage. Stay with your friend."
"The access keys and codes are inside, Vicious." the man in charge told him respectfully. "Just press your palm to the center of the door."
"Fair enough, if you contact me when you've found Vicious. He's on planet for what I think is a drug deal, and I can name his contact, if you want."
Spike paused. "That would speed things up." He agreed. "Fair enough. Give me what you know, and when we get to Callisto, you find Faye, and stick with her until Jet finds her. In return, I'll call you when I find Vicious."
"Deal. Vicious' contact is a saxophonist named Gren, he plays sometimes at the Blue Crow," Meia paused, trying to drag the information out of . . . someone's memory, this was confusion, "I think Gren has an ulterior motive with the deal, he has an interest in Vicious, but I don't know what or why."
Dammit, I knew I should have paid more attention.
"Thanks. That gives me a good place to start. You wouldn't happen to know what they're dealing in, would you?"
"I . . . dammit." Meia frowned. "Red . . . something. I don't remember. It's red something, or something red, though."
"That should be all I need." Amusement in his voice, now. "Figures. Anyway, when we get there, I'll see what I can do about talking us past the port authorities. From there on, your friends are your problem."
Meia nodded, forgetting for a second that Spike couldn't see. "Well, my memory never was the best . . . ah! It was that damn drug people spray in their eyes. Red eye, that was it."
Surprised I could remember that much, actually.
"In the meantime, yeah, I'll stay with my friends."
Spike seemed a little suprised that Meia wasn't going to press the issue, but he left it alone. "Right. I'll call again when we're close to landing."
he replied, cutting the channel.
After a moment, Meia rolled the Dread slightly away from Spike's fighter and whirled it into a couple of moderate-speed loops, trying to get a good idea of just how antsy the dread's powerplant actually was.
Meia noted that there was a general sluggishness around the three quarters mark of all of the gauges, and without diversions, the power refused to climb higher.
Vicious nodded, looking for the hand-pad and (hopefully) opening the ship in the prescribed manner.
OOC: Vicious
IC:
In the center of the door, there was a discolored patch, that didn't seem to stand out greatly from the door itself, but under the correct lighting, glittered a little...
Vicious presses his hand against the glittering-patch thingy.
The glittery patch flashed brightly under Vicious' hand, then a single, localized pulse flashed under his thumb...and repeated under each of his fingers in quick succession.
After the final flash under his pinkie faded away, the door slowly pulled open to admit him...
OOC: Meia
IC:
Meia traveled alongside Spike for what seemed like hours, with not terribly a lot to do. Aside from their impending destination, which was slowly growing nearer, and the ever present mass of what she now recognized as Jupiter, there was not a great deal in the way of scenery. Despite the fact that space is, admittedly, quite beautiful, it is also, to pardon the narrator's french, boring as shit after awhile.
Thusly, it was with great relief that the motley crew arrived on Callisto. Spike, true to his word, talked the three of them past the amazingly lax port authorities, and even managed to get ship berths for all three of them, even Barnette's seriously damaged Dread.
Which lead to the current discussion they were having in a little, run-down office in the laughingly named 'customs' building, with Spike on one side of the room, and Barnette (With Paiway half hiding behind her) And Meia on the other.
"I'm not telling you to sell the whole ship, but they're offering a heft amount of cash for broken parts, or a good look at the insides." Spike told them. "You need the money, and with the type of people they have here, that could make the difference between coming back to find our ships intact, or stripped."
"I'm not telling you to sell the whole ship.
Vicious hops inside the ship, and looks around a bit.
Hum.. can I take off from here, or should the ship be carted somewhere more conveniant?
He gives a check outside to see if it's feasable that he could take off here, and tries to remember anything he knows about flying spacecraft.
Yeah, flying spacecraft. Like, how different could it be from a video game?
Ohhhhhh shit.
OOC: Basically, a rundown of the control panel, and any gear that might be stashed in the ship. If there's like a draw or compartment, I'll be checking inside it, unless it's downright obvious what's in it.[/i]
Interestingly enough, the front of the spacecraft seemed to be devoid of any controls...save for a door. On further examination, Vicious found himself in the storage/passenger section, with only one benchlike seat and a control panel on the far wall, and a door quite similar to the one he'd opened to get into the craft at the front...
Vicious goes to open the door, by any means necessary.
Vicious found that the door opened the same way as the outer one, with a full hand scan, followed by individual fingerprints.
The door snapped open to reveal a fairly spacious cockpit, which was clean and steamlined, unlike most of the 'Spare part' looking equipment Vicious had seen so far.
Vicious hops in the cockpit and has a looksee of all the buttons, trying to work out how to pilot the damn thing.
Well, uh, maybe it's like a bike, once you learn, you never forget.
The layout seems fairly similar to a flight simulator, though there are a few extra gauges and buttons, but most of them, conviently, have labels.
There are two main panels, and there is a strip of masking tape stuck to each. On one piece of tape, the words "Spaceflight" are written, and the controls seem to reflect that function, having switches and gauges for Airlocks, Thrusters, and other assorted Sci-Fi-ish terms.
On the other piece of tape, "Atmospheric flight" Is written, And the controls are almost identical to that of a flight sim, only labeled.
Pause.
I can't fly this. Fuck.
Vicious heads back into the other room, and inspects the other control panel..
As opposed to the other panels, this one appears to be absurdly simple. It is, not only atmoshperic controls for the cargo bay, and seals for the doors, but it also, apparently is a library computer, containing more than a few books, and, convienently, a systems and control guide for the vessel.
Vicious ponders the online library, and goes through information on Atmospheric Flight. After all, it's harder to deal with gravity than it is to deal with space. Especially the whole 'take off' and 'land' bit.
OOC: What time is it? >_>
Apparently, the engines on the Lexco Cruiser functioned the same way in space as they did in the atmosphere, but the key to takeoff and landing was apparently in appropriate manipilation of the bottom and rear thrusters.
The bottom thrusters had a hover setting, which, when combined with the rear thrusters, served in place of landing gear...which, according to the manual, drastically shortened the necessary runway length...
Vicous checks a few of the specifications of the ship, like average accelaration, maximum atmospheric speed, armour, weapons, and anything else that looks particularly pertinent.
A table quickly appeared in the computer.
Acceleration: 30 metres per second
Maximum Speed: Atmos-670 miles per hour; Space-Untested
Armor-Duranium-steel alloy plating
Armament-Two .40 caliber machine cannons.
Meia winced noticably. What Spike was saying made sense, though.
"Barnette?"
Barnette looked completely confused. "I don't know." She admitted finally. "Should we?"
Vicious thinks.
Right. There's no way in fuck I can pull what Vicious did, but on my side, I'm not gonna get sprung by that bomb, and.. if I play my cards right, I might not have Spike chasing me. Hmm..
A cunning plan comes to mind!
Vicious checks the ships inventory, looking for some kind of thin cord, to use as a tripwire..
Unfortunately, the ship's manifest was blank. Completely so. Apparently, the Lexco Cruiser was brand new, and no odds and ends were floating about.
Ironically, there was nothing even slightly useful as thread on board.
Vicious uses the library to work detect if the Lexco cruiser can carry missiles, and if so, what type. While he's at he, he checks if there are any other bells and whistles he could tack on.
According to the library, the Lexco had a modular rail that could be attached to the roof, which carried two missiles, one fired forward, the other back.
They were a new type, designated as afHAWK-1 missiles, and while expensive, the warhead yield was fairly high.
There wasn't much else that could be attached to the little ship, unless Vicious planned on bombing a city...
Vicious gave a little whistle.
I'll have to be gettin' me some of those..
With that, he quits the library and exits the ship, looking for the goon from earlier.
As Vicious exits the ship. he sees that general work in the warehouse has resumed, and the goon who led him to the ship is now talking to another man, who looks like a stereotypical geek. Tall, exceptionally thin and pale, with mouselike eyes hidden behind oval shaped glasses, very messy hair, and dressed in a mechanic's coverall, he looks annoyed with the goon...
Vicious approaches the goon and the scientist, doing his damned best to look imposing.
"Are you busy?" he asks the goon, interrupting whatever conversation they were having with a suitably blunt tone.
"I don't know if we have a choice," Meia sighed, "Do you think your engines and powerplant are fixable?"
"Of course! Parfait might have to replace some parts, but they aren't a write off..." Barnette huffed. "They can have the broken pieces, but not the whole assembly!"
Paiway said nothing, just leaned out from behind Barnette and aimed her camera at Spike. "Pai-check."
Spike didn't react, just puffed calmly, waiting for them to confer.
The goon turns around, looking suitably obsiqueous, but the geek interupts.
"Are you the one who wants the cruiser ready today?" he asked peevishly, seemingly immune to Vicious 'glare o' doom'.
"Mm. That's not quite what I meant," Meia fixed Barnette with a serious look, "I agree that there's no way they're getting the whole assembly, but do you think you can you get your dread flying, with what we can find around here?"
"I believe it was supposed to be ready by the time I got here," Vicious replies, flatly.
The geek is unimpressed, and returns the glare evenly. "You were expected in four hours." he responded. "And we told you that we wouldn't have time to equip it fully."
Barnette sighed. "I don't know. What do they have here?" she asked doubtfully. "This place seems a little outdated..."
Did they? What, has planning for this mission been going on before I spoke with the Elders, where they apparently made the decision in the first place? Or is Vicious psychic or something?
"Whatever," replies Vicious. "I want it ready in two hours, with the missiles."
I wonder if that's pushing it, but it's not exactly a big ship, and there wasn't any work being done on it when I got here..
Meia looked at Spike, then turned back to Barnette and shrugged helplessly. "I don't know what they have here . . . how about letting them get hold of anything that's too slagged to be at all repairable? Anything else, we'll try to repair, but letting them look in while we work on it couldn't hurt either . . . "
The geek rolled his eyes at Vicious. "I can have it ready with the missiles in three hours, if we dedicate three men to it. No less." he responded, with the confidence of someone VERY good at his job, and fully aware of it.
"Oh, all right." Barnette sighed, looking a little distressed at the prospect.
Spike nodded to them both. "I'll go tell them." he told the three women. "And then I've got things to do. Leave the name of the place you're staying at with the berthing attendant..." He said calmly, fixing Meia with an unreadable look, "and I'll call you."
"Right," replies Vicious.
So this goof must've been the one who got an exploding suitcase together for Vicious.. but I don't think I need one. Not if this works out they I hope it does. So instead of asking for a bomb..
"By the way, do you have any tripwire thread?" Vicious asks, pondering over his latest plan.
Quick rethink! The deal dosn't take place tonight, it must happen tomorrow morning. After I've set up the arrangements here, I'll have to call Gren, who, with a little luck, will be having a shower. But everythings different, and I've done different things, so he might not be. Or Faye might pick up. Or something else. Fuck. Don't think too far ahead. Stay on target. Yeah.
The geek adjusted his glasses, his manner relaxing a little at having Vicious apparently take him seriously.
"Depends." he mused, fixing the taller man with a myopic gaze. "What're you going to use it for? We have some things that might suit, but then, they might not." he added, by way of an explanation.
"A tripwire trap," replies Vicious, "which I set off. In the intrests of avoiding something.. messy, I want to be able to place a flashbang behind me, then trip it off with my feet while he's looking at my hands, then deal with him while he's disorientated."
The geek looked puzzled. "Any strong cord would serve for that." he observed. "Your best bet would be fishing line, not any of the wire we carry here. It's strong enough, and there's less chance of light glinting off it, and catching your mark's attention."
"Any reccomendations on where to get it around here?" replies Vicious. "I didn't see any bait shops on my way up."
"Find and odds and ends shop, like a pawnshop or something." the geek advised. "Even if they don't have fishing line, they, or a hardware store should be able to get you something inconspicious and strong. Stay away from cloth if you can help it. Plastic is your best bet."
"Right. I'll be back in a few hours, then," replies Vicious. "Anything I should know about the circumstances here before I leave? I've already been attacked once by walking down the street, and approached by another set of goons.."
"Not really. The gangs here target people who walk through their territory who look rich." the goon finally spoke up. "Most everyone around here bundles up in cheap coats, so ya probably stood out, sir."
"Figures," mutters Vicious. "I'll be seeing you in a few hours, then."
After the customary greetings are done with, he heads on outside to look for a pawn shop..
Vicious left the building as the bright sky of midday was slowly giving way to the slightly muted tones of midafternoon. Once outside, his inspection reminded him he was currently in the industrial section of town, and the stores were about ten minutes walk in a northerly direction ...
Accordingly, Vicious walks north, wairly, looking about for a pawnshop..
As Vicious walks along the streets, he comes to what looks as though it used to be a classy area of town. the area is done in old fashioned style, in a decorating technique that can best be described as 'Sort of Colonial, or Something.'
As he examined the storefronts, he comes across many ramshackle looking department stores, with displays easily as old as the streets are designed to look.
However, after some searching, Vicious sees two stores. One obviously stocks building supplies, as evidenced bay the vaguely creepy-looking cartoon crane, smiling brightly out into the street, and the other, with a sign, and no display, marked 'PAWNSHOP'
"Alrighty. We," 'she' turned her eyes back to Barnette, "need to talk."
Vicious goes towards the Pawnshop, cautiously opening the door, ready for anything.
For heavens sake, Vicious, it's just a pawnshop..
There was something just not right with that sentence, but Vicious couldn't place it.
"No kidding." Barnette replied tartly. "It's about time you told me what the hell is going on." A thin edge crept into her voice, frustration evident.
"Who the hell was that, for starters?"
Vicious saw row upon row of dusty shelves, filled with all sorts of crap. despite the untended look to the store, most of the items visible were in good shape, below the dust.
Way at the back, a counter with an old man sat, looking roughly the same color as the dust...
Vicious looks around the shop for some fishing wire, having a passing look at any particularly futuristic looking items.
Vicious looks around, but strangely, he doesn't find much that looks particularly futuristic. Most looks like random junk, only comparitively new, rather than refugees from a far off time.
Though, the items tend to be the larger things, so he's unable to see fishing line lying about.
Vicious heads over to the shop caretaker. "Got any fishing line?"
The old man with disturbingly grey skin, and yellowed eyes around crystal blue irises looked up at Vicious. "I might. You wouldn't happen to be one o' them young fella who bolts without payin' when they gets what they wants?"
"That depends. You take card?" replies Vicious, pondering the irony if the man dosn't.
"Not if you got a card from the Fifth International Bank of Yemen." the old man replied crustily. "But if you got a nice, regular card, I can accomodate'cha."
So saying he jerks a thumb up at the 'Visa' sign behind him.
Vicious produces his wallet and gets an appropriate credit card out of it.
Shit, if this this has a PIN, I'm fucked.
Fortunately, Vicious' card has no identification marks necessary, as he's very rarely robbed. Perhaps the weapons, and the 'I will eat your liver' look he customarily wears has something to do with that.
At any rate, the old man accepted the card, eyed it, and nodded. "Anything else?"
Vicious thinks for a moment.
"A suitcase, preferably one with working locks," he says. "And a lighter."
Never know when you'll need a fire. Yeah.
"Butane, or disposable?" The old man asked as he slapped a rather beat up looking suitcase on the counter.
"Disposable," replie Vicious.
The old man tossed a cheap looking plastic lighter on the case. "No charge for that..." he muttered, rooting around under the counter.
Vicious nods, idly keeping an eye on the door of the place..
Finally, the old man tosses a battered looking spool on the counter.
"Hunner'd Woolongs." he tells Vicious shortly.
OOC: Yeah, I know...Finally. >_>
Vicious nods. "Right."
That's.. what, a dollar? How much would a woolong work out to be..
The old man rang the purchase in, then tossed Vicious his card. "Thank you, come again."
Vicious waves off the man, exiting the store..
Now what? It's been, what, an hour, tops? Maybe I'll go check on Lin.. and then I'd better phone Gren. Yeah. Sounds like a plan.
Henceforth, Vicious sets out for his temprorary home..
"That was Spike Spiegel, and he's a bounty hunter. Ah . . ." Meia winced visibly, "As to what's going on, well, you remember how everyone got dragged away from Taraaku? The same sort of thing just happened to us, except if anything it's worse."
OOC: I return! And hopefully with less delays this time. x_X Curse you, Real life!
IC:
Vicious was getting quite handy at navigating the little city, and within a half hour, he found himself back at the safe house...
Barnette twitched. "Worse? How much worse?" she asked and an oddly calm voice, the unspoken message of which was obviously 'Who's fault is this? I'm going to shoot them, just to watch them die'
Paiway peeked out from behind Barnette...and sure enough, the frog was on her hand. "I want to know where we are, ribbit!"
Vicious pauses before opening the door, harkening back to an experiance in his previous life...
<->
"Ok, so I open the door.
"As you open the door, you hear an ominous click... Ok, you guys just saw Wilson open the door to his apartment, which then promptly exploded. Seems someone planted a bomb there..."
"...you're a dick, you know that?"
<->
So instead of going in through the door, Vicious climbs in a window.
"I have no idea how to get back. Or anything. And you know what?" 'Meia's voice started to tighten with stress, "I woke up this morning, and I don't think I'm Meia. I think I'm someone else. I don't know if someone's messed with me, if I'm actually who I think I am, or if I'm just hallucinating this WHOLE DAMN THING! For all I know I could be just have some bizarre head injury!" she was shaking violently at this point, "I had this weird dream while in the bath that told me ending up here was going to happen to me, but not you, and . . . "
'Meia' trailed off and visibly calmed down.
Suprisingly, Vicious seemed to almost slithe-er, glide through the window. It was obvious his muscles were well accustomed to physical activity, which seemed suprising...well, unless he had a gym membership.
A frozen blast of air followed him in through the window, but the house seemed unscathed from how he'd left it.
Paiway cowered behind Barnette, who stared at Meia in stunned amazement, and fell silent...
Vicious goes to check out how Lin is doing.
Lin is, as to be expected, unconscious. The only signs of movement is the rise and fall of his chest.
There is a glass of water, about 7/8ths empty by his bedside, with drops of water surrounding it, as though someone drank from it clumsily. Everything else was peaceful, right down to the gentle motion of the curtains...
Vicious pauses. Lin must've gotten up himself, which means he'd be better in a few days.
Still completely useless to Vicious, who reaslised.. he was hungry.
Being hungry, he goes to make something to eat, figuring the syndicate would provide nothing but the best for their top operative.
The fridge was fully stocked, with all the available food items...that were designed to last. Which meant, of course, they were short on vegtables, save for the canned kind, and there were only small amounts of semi perishables, like cheese.
Vicious makes himself some coffee and instant noodles, and sits down, munching away.
After that, he practices juggling, figuring it'll help his hand-eye coordination a little.
Interestingly, it seems Vicious has never juggled before, so he has some difficultly in keeling his attention focus properly. Eventually, he manages, though not before taking an apple or seven to the top of his head.
After a long moment, Barnette cautiously opens her mouth. "Meia, I'm not sure what you're talking about." she admitted. "But...If you have a head injury, shouldn't you get it checked out?"
Paiway seemed to perk up at this, and glanced seriously up at Meia. "You don't look hurt..."
Having gotten his little juggling thing down, Vicious checks how long it'll be until his ship is ready.
"Duero checked me out . . . and didn't find anything wrong. I just . . . I don't know," Meia looked seriously at Barnette, "but the way this is playing out, it honestly fits what I remember. I don't know what possibility worries me more."
Barnette sighed, giving Meia a skeptical look. "All right. We'll follow your lead for now. But when we get someplace less public, let Paiway look at you, too, leader."
She glanced around the dingy room disgustedly. "What now?"
By the clock and the estimate he was given, Vicious sees he has an hour and a half to go before his ship is ready for business.
Maybe it was time to phone Gren.. Vicious checks out the sky, remembering that it was about dusk when Vicious called in the series..
The sky is darkening slightly, though the clock reads three o'clock. Vicious suddenly recalls that during the winter in permanently cold places, the sun sets MUCH earlier...
Combining that with the fact that he's on another planet much, much further away from the sun than Earth is, Vicious figures it must be fairly normal.
Vicious has a hunt for a conveniant codebook, so he can give Gren a message and interpret anything he might recieve back before the actual meeting.
Unfortunately, Vicious can't locate a book of cyphers. It appears that phone codes are either memorised, or agreed upon beforehand...
Ah, well. Figures. Best work with what he knows, then.
He pulls out a cellphone and hits the autodial for Gren..
"We find those techs Spike was talking about and take their offer, because we're going to need some money. And we try and see if we have a hope of putting your dread together with what we can dig up around here."
Meia quirked an eyebrow.
"Sound like a plan?"
Barnette nodded uncertainly. "I guess. I'm no Parfait, though...the chances of it going back to full power are small..."
"Same with mine," Meia sighed, "but partial is a lot better than nothing."
She promptly made for the door. "Watch yourself, by the way. This people on this dump aren't all hospitable."
Barnette frowned. "I'll get my guns." she offered, glancing at Paiway as the two follwed Meia. "I take it we're going into hiding?"
"Not entirely . . . but be careful," Meia sighed as she stepped out the door.
A low voice, pitched a little too low, and sounding slightly forced, though smooth and lyrical, answered the call from Vicious' phone.
"Hello?"
"Hello, Gren," replies Vicious, trying to formulate some way for Gren to give him information that he really should already know..
Meia stepped out into the hall, and was confronted by the same 'office hall gone to seed' look as she had when she'd entered. The hall was dirty, and largely empty, though she could feel eyes from various doorways on them as they passed. At the end of the hall was a door marked "Hangar"...
Ignoring the looks she felt, Meia walked towards the hanger door.
Gren's voice dropped slightly in pitch. "You're early." he noted.
The Hangar door was slightly stuck, but a firm shove dislodged it, and they entered the hangar, Barnette keeping a careful eye on the workers, and Paiway pressed closely to Meia's butt.
Meia stepped through the door and looked around the hangar for her Dread.
The hangar was a large, noisy affair, filled with the sounds of working, plating being welded, or parts being hammered into place. It was suprisingly spacious and open, considering the state of the planet thus far, and relatively clean. The two dreads were moored in a far corner, both Barnette's damaged one, and Meia's functional one gathering quite a bit of rubbernecking from the work crews...
"I am aware," replies Vicious, smoothly.
Dammit!