DS : Dead Stars

[VO]

So here it is. There's deliberately no plot here apart from gathering everyone together. Make a post or two to help establish your character. Then things will get going. MC, feel free to drop in with SAM when you're ready - You haven't replied to my post in the profiles thread but I'm confident whatever SAM's doing on the YDIX will be fine. MB, you need a backstory before I let you near this thing.

Galactic Newsnet - Your LOCAL net giving you news tuned to YOU in Indigo Sector!

Interstellar News Headlines For This Cycle :

UNITY president Nebulon calls for calm during the shipping crisis in the core systems:

Shot of giant space octopus adressing the UNITY inner council. He wields the UNITY sceptre of office. Senators of many different races cheer and boo him simultaneously.
SYNTHESISED VOICE: "Sentients! I bid you peace and UNITY! The forces of discord do harry the flanks of the alliance like astro-wolves..."

Ringworld Reavers win fifth successive grav-ball season with dynamic clincher against Aquaran Avengers:

Shot of Coach Z'nar of the Avengers surrounded by microphones. A video of the match is set into the top right hand corner, with striker Dash Overdrive scoring the winning goal. The Aquaran coach's seven mouths all speak simultaneously while his fluttering gills pulse with anger : "It was a great game... FOR CHEATERS..."

Holovid Queen Fendy Wiennes sweeps the Keanu Reeves Acting Awards clean:

Shot of the blue-haired bombshell at a podium clutching a handful of solid diamond figurines to her heaving alien bosom: "I couldn't have done it without my mum, my mum, and of course the good scientists at Gencorp. Ltd..."

Top corporate boffins reinvent the wheel:

Shot of intelligent looking scientist wearing a spotless white labcoat holding an axle with a square of coloured plastic affixed to it. The object is covered in product logos. He grins : "It's REVOLUTIONARY!"

Grand Admiral Ortsac criticised for heavy fleet build-up on Indigo frontier:

Shot of stressed human Admiral Mij Ortsac, in complete naval regalia before a holograph of his flagship the Dark Sorrow. He deals a two-fingered salute marches off-stage, slamming a vac-door in the camera's face: "This interview is over!..."

Now over to our regional newsteams in the studio. Remember to press the red button at any time for...


"Turn that fragging thing off... it's all garbage anyway"

Lucrezie Beveridge reached into the airskiff's cabin and flicked off the newsnet projector. She adjusted her glasses so that only she would continue to see the feed, and turned back to where her superior, the eminent Dr. Khanis Wulferiksson was, with the aid of an electro-chisel, slowly peeling away a layer of sediment which had collected over the last six thousand years. This far up the Tomb Valley hadn't been properly surveyed, it was only the quest for more of the mysterious hieroglyphics which adorned most of the structures here that had brought them this far. Beneath the sandy loam, the good doctor had uncovered another layer of seemingly abstract shapes, which likely hadn't seen the light of day beneath this milky yellow star for at least several thousand years. Sometimes Lucrezie, or Luc as she was often known, marvelled at how he managed this.

Behind her, the sun was falling low in the western sky, casting long shadows from the half-buried statues that lined the cliff walls. Their humanoid forms had given the anthropologists in the Survey little information on the builder's origins - for all they knew, these could be morphic, animal-headed gods. Another speeder buzzed in the lazy evening air, probably from one of the other scientific teams further down he valley. An avian flapped high overhead.

"Luc!" muttered the doctor. "Magnifier"

Lucrezie obediently picked up the electronic device which lay a few feet away from her colleague’s body and handed it to him. She sat down against the rock, careful not to obstruct the Khanis' work or damage any more of the carvings, and picked up one of their tracings.

The figures made no sense to her, and even baffled the doctor. They were seemingly random, just shapes arranged in lines which broke off at odd intervals with no discernable pattern. No-one could decipher them - not computers, not sentients such as the Doctor who was often described as the best in his field.

The logical response for such a brilliant man was, of course, to gather more examples. He would not be bested, would work long into the night on the problems, trying ciphers, basing it on known language structures from all across the galaxy, even considering them as a schematic or diagram.

Nothing. He'd tried matching them with Somaran Superscript, used the Kelsetine Cypher, run programs to swap the shapes into one language pattern then back into another, everything. It was hopeless, Luc thought. Better to press on and catalogue more of the valley, the whole planet, find out what this race was by their artefacts, not just their language. They were only a klick up the valley - there were still six to go then the city began. Lucrezie had been in the first chamber, the only one they'd opened before returning to meticulously move up the valley, turning over every stone. It had been far more exciting. A door was set into the black stone, at least thirty metres high.

None of them had any idea what was behind it. And blowing them open was definitely a last resort - it could destroy some of the precious archaeological history of the planet. They'd catalogue everything else beforehand, every grain of sand in the dry valley before reaching the doors with long beards and walking sticks. Even the contingent of Hosar scientists, one of whom was already three millenia old.

Lucrezie sat and pondered this, watching the sun beneath the evergreen trees on the horizon and stain the sky red. She idly scratched the scar on her arm.

"Luc! Snap out of it"

Quickly the pulled her sleeve down, anxious that Dr Khandis would have seen her. He didn't appear to have, was too busy stacking tools away in a plastic carrycase.

"You want to start the skimmer up? Luc? It would be nice to hit the camp in time for dinner for a change."


***
Two Days Earlier

The herd of Mastodox grazed in the clearing.

These were massive beasts, each the size of a large speeder and bristling with matted brown fur and bony plates. They scraped their huge elongated tusks through the alien grasses of this world and rooted up fungi from the dirt, stuffing them into the mouths beneath their small piggy eyes with a prehensile tongue. One of the beasts, a large bull male, scraped itself against a pine on the opposite side of the clearing. The tree shook, shedding needles and icicles, bobbed back and forth in the dirt.

Io watched from the scrub. Here in the wilderness he felt naked, worlds away from his clan-mates in the warrens of Maeva, but hunting alone was a necessity. There were no sentients in Jarvisston that matched his skill, no Bashiirans to join his back. Here he must hunt alone, hone his skills for his clan.

Even for the lapine's feral power, the Mastodox were simply too big and dangerous. Instead Io had stalked the herd for days, watching the grasses where other things prowled to bring down calves and ancients, hunting the hunters. They called this species Grimga, canine things the size of a man that padded around on four sinewy legs and had teeth the size of machetes. Io had quickly learnt that one of their hides was reasonably easy to obtain and their skins fetched a fair price in town from fat game hunters too senile to shoot them themselves. All he had to do was gut them cleanly, carry their pelts into town and sell them on to one of the numerous smallhold shopkeeps which lined the streets. He made a profit and practiced his martial ability, all at the same time.
It was also quite fun.

Present Day

With the skins, tied to his back, Io trekked through the forest beneath the bows of great trees. His paws left prints in the mud where they didn't tread on dried needles. Although he'd been walking for most of the day, he wasn't tired, just impatient. He hadn't seen civilisation for a few weeks, was eager to hit the town and loosen his muscles for a bit. The forest floor was becoming a track, a game trail that would eventually widen into a road that would then reach the entrance to Jarvisston's log palisade. Soon he'd hit signs of sentient - discarded cartridges, ruts where low-flying speeders had passed many times over the years, even footprints. He'd sell a couple or even all of the skins to some trader in the town with the broken standard making strange sounds with his tongue, use the money to get a few drinks, maybe some more supplies for his next trip into the wilderness.

***

"You can't do this to me!"

Natasha Kovalenko was being frogmarched down the clinically white corridor of the hab-module, the barrel of a gun forced into the small of her back and a burly arm clamped around her neck. She had considered squirming, kicking biting and fighting like a wild thing, but the weapon had convinced her otherwise. Instead she made a much as a din as possible.

"Let me go fraggers!." The bounty hunter ignored her, following the camp's security officer's orders and almost throwing her into the empty cell. She crashed against the wall as the officer flicked a switch and the containment field that served as a door to the chamber flicked on. He tossed her coat and weapons into a locker opposite and locked the door with his thumbprint. Then, without a word, he marched off down the corridor with the thickset enforcer, leaving Nat in the cell.

"Frag," she muttered. "Frag frag frag" It had been at least three months since she'd last been banged up like this, and she was hoping to keep it that way. She sat down on the bench which and cradled her head in her hands.

"Frag"

Little salty tears were welling up at the corner of her eyes. It wasn't meant to be like this. She'd came here to start a new life, away from all the crap that had seemed to follow her around the core worlds, and now it was happening again. It wasn't meant to be like this.

She ran her hands through her scaly hair. There was no way out of here, he'd seen enough of the glowing green sheets of light to know they'd tuned it to her DNA or something. If she tried to take out her frustration on it, all that would happen would be a nasty electric shock.

Jail was NOT in the plan. She was on YDIX for a clean slate, and then she'd got into that fight, and, fraggers, they'd set a fragging bounty hunter on her! It wasn't even like it was much, just a few scratches, and it wasn't like she could ever run far on this fragging little world. She sobbed into her palms as the light of the setting sun filtered through a small barred window.

***

Sometimes Meyvoru liked to drown her sorrows.

Nigashar weren't known for drinking, but then again the slim green alien thought she had ample reason to. Here she was, marooned on the wrong side of the galaxy and stuck here on this boring world of little more than forest and oceans by a fragging defect in her physiology. Of all the evolutionary quirks her race could have been blessed with, the Nigashar had ended up with the one thing stopping her from getting home.
If she went FTL, Meyvoru would literally turn to slush. Something in her physiology would switch on, break down lipid walls and send her alien biochemistry into a gooey mess. She'd slide down the sides of her spacesuit in translucent green slurry.

It wasn't something that had been recommended.

So Meyvoru couldn't just jump on a freighter and get out of the system. Oh no. She had to save up, thousands of credits, pay someone to take her to the ancient 'gate' at the system's solar focus. With the ease of FTL for most species, no-one would be willing to risk the month's travel time in the gate unless the Nigashar was their most important cargo. There were only two other alternatives - pay even more for a drug to stabilise her metabolism and let her make the jump; one that probably wasn't even available in this sector anyhow, or fix the teleporter herself. This was probably the most attractive option, but had it's own problems. Although it would only cost her one and a half k at the most, assuming she got it right first time, most of the jobs on YDIX she was qualified for paid pittance. Pilots were expected to be of the standard to just-about-keep-above-the-treeline, and that was it. Mechanics were little better and there was a fierce competition for the few repair jobs available. So Meyvoru did what she could, saved almost all the money gained, leaving just enough for food, cheap lodgings, and the occasional drink at the bar.

If there was one thing that was cheap on YDIX, it was intoxication. Meyvoru had had to try quite a few drinks before she'd found something that matched her metabolism well enough to get her pretty much hammer - just ask the squat silvery serving robot to use the little cylinder of pressurised gas behind the bar and pump her cocktail full of oxygen. It was nothing like breathing pure oxygen through a mask, but after a few glasses, the Nigashar began to feel quite warm and fuzzy inside. She huddled at the bar angrily, sipping her drink through the mini-airlock with methodical vigour. Most of the other patrons left her alone.

This one didn't.

It was a human - quite obviously drunk. He had that look in his eyes that human males got when sloshing full of ethanol; blurry eyes, itching for a fight or a shag. There wasn't the expression "**** like humans" for nothing.

"Hey babe," he slurred. "Want to see my laser gun" He pointed at his crotch as if to indicate that said piece of superheated gas weaponry was concealed somewhere in his underwear.

"Not really, no," said Meyvoru, and turned back to the bar, trying to lose the unwanted attention. The human tapped her shoulder and began to dry-hump the stool next to her.

"Do you even know what I am?" she said "My species reproduce by spores".

"Heh," The man grinned a lopsided smile "No worries. I done it with a Kroo before. They **** with their mind!"

"That's nice." Meyvoru stood up. Maybe it was time to head home.

***

The skimmer shot over the seething ocean. Above it the night sky was clear, letting Alanara meditate with the wind whipping at his hair and across the shaved scalp of his head, his body buffeted by the whipping salt breezes. Some schools of thought said that this was good for the soul.

There was another monk on board, piloting the vehicle. Like most of the other members of the order, he was known simply as 'Brother' to the blue-skinned Sishvana. They had been sent, as occasionally was the case, to sell goods produced in the order's neatly ploughed fields to the colonists at Jarvisston. It was a 26 hour round trip, at the fastest speed the skimmer could manage while loaded down with goods, the shuttle being far too precious to waste on such an endeavour. He'd only done it once before, like this time spending much of the time in thoughtful reflection and sleeping the night in cheap rented quarters in the town.

Alanara relaxed his soul and muscles, let himself feel the Abstract Spirit in the biosphere of the world over the rush of the wind and the hum of the skimmer's repulsors. In truth he didn't get much of an open channel with the Abstract very often, but knew that the martial arts he was learning as an inducted brother in the Order would serve him well, and the meditation did help him relax and focus himself. They'd accepted the mute, multi-armed Alanara much more readily than Javenco, who was consigned to some menial duty back at The Mesa, trusted him for fairly interesting jobs like this while his friend was sweeping the floors of penance chambers.

As he opened his eyes, he could see land bobbing above the crests of the waves. A short and sandy beach gave way to tall green forest almost immediately, Alanara watching a group of tusked and oily mammals scatter, honking in fright as the two monks shot overhead. As far as he could tell, everything bigger than a mosquito on this planet had spikes or giant teeth, and everything smaller still managed to pack a nasty, quite possibly poisonous bite.

From here there was another fifteen minutes to the colonist's town and spaceport. Alanara would have to unload the produce into some shady warehouse where his companion would park the speeder, then would be expected to meditate for hours in some tiny room, sleep until an hour before dawn, and rise for the return journey.
Of course, it went unspoken that he had other plans.

***

The man once feared by crimelords across the galactic core, former paragon of military might and known in a thousand tongues as the 'Breathcutter' coughed in the dust as the driver of the large black speeder reved his engine and moved away from the pumps, spraying the attendant in foul-smelling primary lift exhaust. Caustic deuterium resin had stained the legs of his dungarees, and drops of the noxious substance still dripped from the nozzle of the pump as Cain slipped it angrily back into it's holster.

"Fraggers. Frag fragging fraggers," he ranted, wiping his hands on his legs. "I'd smash their fragging faces" He tramped inside the station building, his thick boots leaving oily footprints in the dirt.

The short, wrinkly skinned alien behind the counter looked up from a dirty softscreen magazine. He had a constipated expression, like a shrivelled fruit.
"Cain? You still have fifteen minutes on the forecourt. Get back out there"
"Frag it," muttered Cain "I'm covered in slag. I need to get cleaned up. I'm not going out-fragging-there again." He walked towards the employee washroom and grabbed his sack of clothes from behind the counter. His boss watched him predatorily.

It wasn't that Cain was easily stressed. He was quite tolerant really, able to enjoy a joke and just put up with problems he couldn't solve. The last few days working on the 'station had worn him thin. He couldn't put up with much more, not with the knowledge of what he used to be. He kicked open the door of the bathroom, revealing a solitary toilet. Most races excreted in a similar way.

"Cain! This is being docked from your wages!" The little man was fuming, his grey complexion turning as red as the sky outside. Cain ignored him and slammed the door, not bothering to press the autolock over the years he'd become quite thick skinned.

The ex-black ops commando undid the straps of his dungarees and let them fall to the floor. He urinated for a long time into the toilet bowl, then stepped out of the cloth round his ankles and pulled a clean pair of trousers out of his bag and put them on, fastening them with his belt. He pulled off the thick vest he was wearing to reveal the bulgingly sculpted muscles of his back, engraved with a large dragon tatoo. He pulled a black shirt out of the rucksack and put it over his head, pulling it down and turning to check his reflection in the mirror. He washed his face and hands in soapy water, ran one hand over his short cropped scalp.

The dungarees were still on the floor so he stuffed them into the duffel bag, slung it up and over his shoulder. He checked the chronometer built into his netwatch. His shift was over, and from the frosted window he could see that it was now dark in the skies above Jarvisston.

Cain was tired, but maybe he could go have a drink before returning home or maybe even go and see Alice before she finished her shift. Right now he figured he needed some female company, preferably from a species with compatible genitalia. He jerked open the bathroom door, and went out to face the world.

***

Three hours previously

The Land Roamer crunched through the wilderness by the light of the setting sun. It's huge treads crushed all before it; scrubs, stones, small trees, baby animals et al to leave little but a muddy swathe of double-tracked destruction in it's wake. A girl pushed her nose against the plexiglass window, leaving two little rings of steam on the glass as she watched the forest creatures scatter in primal terror from their approach.

"Mum!"

Coderre Scylla Swan-Vespas activated the autopilot (which, distressingly, began to plot a path which avoided obstacles in it's way), and turned to her child. The eight year old in the humorously oversized pilot's chair grinned the smile of someone who hadn't lost all their milk teeth yet.

"Are we almost there yet?"

Codere sighed. The girl had repeated this exercise every few minutes for the last six hours, looking up from whatever she was working on with alarming regularity. It wasn't her fault that they were heading back to town - the encounter with a full-grown mastodox had done some serious damage that only a trip to the vehicle shops in town would sort out. She pointed at the map which filled one of the large screens in the Roamer's cabin.

"See. There's where we're heading. Jarvisston." A little triangle represented the vehicle, about ten klicks from the settlement. They had a small river, a bog, and a fair amount of forest to cross. "And here we are." She explained the readout for the umpteenth time. Myun followed her carefully with her eyes. "Do you get it?"

"Yeah!" grinned her daughter enthusiastically, and pointed out of the window. "So will be almost there when we go past that tree?"

***

Raften hadn't laughed like that for months. Since he'd taken to working on his projects - a couple of contract repairs on food synthers, and started to build a prototype 'Shift shuffling machine to sell to one of the bars around here, he'd watched the action-vid star lookalike working on the deutronium pump opposite his meagre apartment. Although there had been incidents before, this one was by far the funniest. He snorted back laughter and put down his neurospanner to watch the attendant tramp inside.
Then he turned back to his work.

There were two reasons why Raftenor wasn't off world now. One of them was his nervous twitch had a habit of messing up projects. The other was that the market for the kind of thing he made was random. Shipments of, say, snap-traps for the hunters might come in on six freighters in a week, then none for the next year. So if he produced them at a steady rate, he'd have times when he had a huge backstore and no idea about what it would be smart to make next. So he was forced to work in a rush whenever something looked like it was running short on the supplies front, spending the rest of his time pottering about with his own ideas like the shuffler, and making the occasional piece of jewellery. Sometimes people came for him for advice to - he was developing a reputation as an amateur odd-job man that, while nice, wasn't getting him offworld. The other day an alien - nigashari or something, he recognised her race as an example of something funny he couldn't remember - had come to him to try and get parts for a strange metal cylinder she'd barely let him look at, let alone tell him the function.

He glanced out of the window again and noticed the dimming sky. It was getting late, and he'd been working all day. Maybe he should take a break, get out a bit. He glanced up at his meagre wardrobe, where his battered old suit hung forlornly with a ripped silver jumpsuit and a couple of other articles of clothing. Not like he had much to go out in, but then again, this was Jarvisston.

***

On the whole, life wasn't bad for Jacob Renalds.

He had a job here. It paid money. The food was decent. He wasn't running for his life, or fighting for his life, or even, come to think of it, hiding for his life in any normal way. He stood a few watches for the scientists here on YDIX, spent a few days a week providing an escort for anyone going to the more dangerous regions of the planet. His employers weren't overly paranoid- they actually needed the guards here most nights to stave of Grimga that lurked just out of the torchlights and rutted and howled in the dark.

Right now, he was on the watchtower. He leant against the edge of the round cabin, watching the perimeter of the forest clearing. The sun was stained red and setting on the western horizon, wispy clouds lit from below by it's soporific light. His rifle, a heavily customised AG-141, rested on the rim of the capsule. Not that he'd need it up here, all he could really do from this vantage when he saw something was sound the alarm, start shooting if it got close. He didn't know why they didn't have a machine to do this for them. But heck, it was what he was getting paid for.

"Hey!" came a voice from below. "Shift's over!" Jacob started, instinctively flicking the safety off his gun, and glanced down at the blue-hooded mercenary thirty metres below him. He did a thumbs up sign that the other man probably didn't see, and began to make his way down the ladder, rung after rung. His rifle was slung over his back on it's strap as he descended.
His replacement peered out through the slit in his headgear at Jacob as he dropped the metre to the ground. "Falling asleep out there?"

"Heh, yeah," said Jacob. He was on good terms with most of the hundred or so mercs who ran cover for scientists up the Valley and beyond. This one was a Antari, a normally subterranean humanoid species with a strong aversion to sunlight. Once it was dark the hood would come off and the mercenary's fine head of long dark hair would blow in the wind at the top of the tower.

"Take care," he muttered gruffly as he started towards the rough canteen in the gathering darkness, pulling the zip of his armoured vest to the top. "It's going to be a cold night."

***

Vokkar watched the darkness creep across the face of the world as he brought the Star Pilgrim in a long slow loop below the asteroid ring, taking care to avoid the scuppered colony fleet that had been dragged into orbit around YDIX's belly like most of the other satellites. He didn't want to get his ship any more beat up than it already was, and dragging it through the minefield of angular wreckage, long silent vessels and nasty shaped rocks would have been asking for trouble. The Arboda ran one hand over the controls, switching on still just functioning deflectors before he entered the atmosphere. The shields glowed a bright blue as they worked to dissipate the heat energy generated by friction with the sheath of gases that surrounded the world below. Far below him, a storm was welling up in the western ocean, spirals of cloud which just touched the universally green shores.

The navigation system had detected the presence of Jarvisston from the lone relay sattelite in the rings, a metre-wide ball of circuitry that transmitted almost everything long-wave that came in and out out of the planet's surface. Communications equipment was expensive, and everyone who could tuned into this device, installed by UNITY seven or eight hundred years beforehands, and the ship's computer automatically downloaded the latest information about YDIX for him. In the year since he'd last stopped here, nothing had changed - the climate had shifted a fraction of a degree cooler as it prepared for it's occasional cold cycle, the population had increased by a few hundred as more people arrived on tramp steamers between the stars. Vokkar quite liked YDIX really, and it was a handy place to stop for essential, albeit expensive repairs.

He let the ship swoop down through the high cloud banks, still far above the ground, and was automatically patched into the rudimentary docking control at Jarvisston.

"Unidentified Light Freighter, transmit clearance code and registration for docking permit" came the automated request. Vokkar slid his multi-fingered hand nimbly up to a keypad, sent the Star Pilgrim's signature code across the airways. The forest rushed past below him in the dark and the lights of the frontier town appeared on the horizon.

"Docking permit granted. You will be charged to your credit account," came the voice. "Proceed to dock 7-S within the next ten minutes. You may be searched for illegal imports by our random customs searches."

"Thanks" Vokkar smiled and muted the channel. For a change, what was in his ship's hold was mostly legal. Not that it would have mattered here, of course - customs were actually a threat on some of the more civilised worlds, but on the off-chance the pair of fat enforcers who might check ships once a year decided to have a look in the Pilgrim, they would be easily bought off.

He took the ship across and over the settlement, turning no heads from the populace who were used to seeing dozens of spacecraft in the air every day. Most of these were light freighters like Vokkar's. Nothing Corporate would bother with a world like YDIX. The speedometer dropped rapidly, and the pilot phased in the grav engines to bring the ship to a hover above the bay indicated by the computer. He eased it down between the rough log walls into a circle of dirt, engines kicking up small clouds of sand and debris as the ship settled on the planet's surface.

***

Ok, GO! You can't do anything much wrong, so feel free to make up stuff :). Just don't take your character away from Jarvisston or the research camp. If you don't like the way I've treated your character, tell me so it doesn't happen again. Complaints go in the Galactic Senate.

[AI]

Lucrezie watched the Doctor clear up all his equiptment, the skimmer humming, almost affectionatly, benath her. Doctor Khanis kept her in good condition despite the long working hours and miles of travelling the machine had to endure. He looked after his tools of the trade, just like he looked after his staff... And Lucrezie couldn't help but admire him for it. In fact, now that she thought about it, he did spend an obscene amont of time maintaining his geaMost people would let such sucess go to their heads, they'd have egos the size of solar systems, but not Khanis. No, Khanis had time for everyone. Within reason.

"Right." He said, packing his gear in to the back and then jumping into the passenger seat. "Let's jet."

She gunned the engines, taking the skimmer off the ground and into a steady take off. Gradually, with plenty of hesitation on her part, she took it higher and higher. This was the part she always worried about, imaging that she wouldn't go high enough and crash into the impending tree-tops. But it had never happened, yet. She was still always happier when the doctor was in charge of the driving though. Not that she didn't like it, she always strived to show she was eager, and she imagined Khansis needed some rest. He never really seemed to slow down...

"So, what are your plans for the weekend?" Asked Khanis idly, as they cleared the dreaded treetops of the forest land that surrounded the ruins.

"I was just planning to analyse those chemicals we found yesterday... I know we did an on the spot analysis, but I just want to double check..." She replied nervously. He often asked this, and the answer was always the same. Working.

"I was just wondering if you'd like to come to Jarvisston with me?" He smiled. "I need to go and collect some supplies for the camp."

"Oh, well, that's very nice of you to offer but..."

"No, no. I insist." He cut in. "I sometimes worry about you Luc. You need to get out of the camp once in awhile, enjoy yourself."

"Ok..." She sighed. "Do you mind if I see an old friend while I'm there?"

"Sure. Just don't be too long, the last thing I want either of us doing is flying after dark. You remember last time?"

"When we almost got that Komodore stuck in one of the engines." She experianced a momentary shudder at thevery thought of it. "Don't worry, I shouldn't be long..."

"Alright. Hey, I'm going to take a nap, wake me up when we're back at the settlement, ok?"

"Ok..."

She allowed the doctor to fall asleep, her conscience baying at her for lying to him like that. It was true, to an extent. She was going to hook up with an old friend, he was a smuggler called Kofee. Except they were going to do anything but talk of old times. It's like Khanis had said, supplies were low... And she had her own restocking to take care of.

[ImageKlonoa]

Io made his way through the flora and fauna to a shabby old building where he was greeted at the door. It was a dark-run-down sort of shack; large bulbs suspended from cables provided light. the floors were covered in all sorts of animal parts, which made it hard to walk around and proced some strong smells, few were pleasant.

An older human; he had a long greying eard and mostache, was a sharp dressing, fast-talking kind of person. The learning curve to fully understand what would come out of his mouth was very steep for Io. Two burly men came out from a back door and took the skins after Io set them down. they quickly heaved them over a counter, then stood alongside the hairy old guy in the middle.

"Ah...grimgas ehh?" he says, hands clenched together. "Ahh..they are. I believe there from that group keeping me from developing on my land, yes? Well..um..whoever you are, youve done a great service to me and my business. As a token of my appreciation, I'd like you to take this as my generous offering." And with that, he reaches for a inside pocket of his jacket, and pulls out a wad of what appears to be thin, rectangular-shaped leaves.

Io takes it and studies it intensely. He is fully aware of the concept of currency, but this was much different from the colored rune system on his home planet. After a while, he pockets it, then holds up two of his fingers, saying "Two."

"Whoa, there buddy!" The merchant says, waving his hands, open palmed out in front of him. "You've nearly cleaned me out! I cant give you anymore for those skins, my good sir, I just cant!"

One of the larger men stepped forward and piped up. "If dat aint good enuf, you can give it back and LEAVE." he gave Io a steely-eyed look and growled a bit at him.

Io took a quick step back, assumed a position and murmured something in his native tongue. that man found it comical until he found one paw around his neck, and other embedded in his face. the older guy started screaming upon the sounds of shattering bone and headed for a door in the back of the building. the final man leaps on Io's back, applying some sort of chokehold. Io reaches back with an arm, finds something to grab on to, and swings it like a baseball bat towards the ground, finally choking to death the bloody mass before him.

Io leaves the building, pelts in-hand once again and make a bee-line toward the Jarvisston skyline, gunshots going off in the background.

[Desolator12]

"One of these days, I gotta find some sort of cloth to patch that suit up..." Raften murmured to himself, as he looked at his former past. He needed to do something other than repair various miscelanies if he was going to get off of this rock...

*bzzrt*, the doorbell sounded. Raften went over to the door to see who it was.

"Hello?" Raften said, into a wall-mounted batch of circuitry and other item he called an intercom.

"Eet eez eye, Marja. Eye want ta peek oop me... peekage."
Raften remembered Marja... not so fondly. He was to make several...less than legal alterations to his weapon, "Ahr Eels". Even the companies he competed against when he was CEO of his company weren't as cutthroat.

"Hold On..." Raften said, as he went over to pick up a non-conspicuous box, and walked it to the door. He opened the door, and slid it out.

"Thank yeew... peerhapse wi caen werk tewgether egen, Reefteen", as he held out some currency. Raften took it, counted it, and shut the door.

"Peerhapse not...Marja." Raften had planted a small remote tracker into the weapon. If Marja decided to enforce an 'Ahr Eels' on any of his paying customers, he'd activate it. The damned being wouldn't know what the hell happened.

Raften grabbed his suit... perhapse he could splurge a bit on some new clothing...

[Nyerguds]

Meyvoru walked away. The drunk grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back. "Heyy baby... now don't walk away on me!"
Meyvoru had basic knowledge of most races, and humans, especially drunk ones, were too easy to handle.
"Technically I'm neither female nor male... meaning you might just as well be trying to get it on with a guy."
The words took about twelve seconds to be processed by the methanol-soaked brain. After that, the man quickly pulled back his arm and turned away.

Meyvoru would've smiled at the man's reaction, but she was in no mood to smile. Not like anyone that had never dealt with Nigashari before would even recognise the widening of her front gills as a smile anyway. In fact, she noticed some races even interpreted it as a threat.

She went back to the shuttle she'd been using as living space. It wasn't particularly comfortable, but the old man Mercer didn't mind, and it didn't cost her anything. And if there was one thing Nigashari were known for besides turning to goo after FTL travel, it was the fact they were methodical... they kept things neat.

She put the metal strip into the side of the vehicle to deactivate the locks, opened the cockpit door and slumped down on the chair. Normally, her education would never allow her to be so uncomposed. But she was so sick of it all, and there wasn't anything on this entire planet to enforce her homeworld's values anyways.

[Wesforce]

'Yeah... You could say that.' Coderre told her daughter, giving up the fight like she'd never have done while still in UNITY service. 'You're a big girl now... You wanna have a go at the controls?'

'Do I ever!' Myun squealed. With the Landroamer in autopilot, Coderre hit the quick-release and got off the pilot seat. She had to heft Myun up to the seat and buckle her in, whereupon she immediately grabbed the control pod and started trying to veer left and right.

'See? You're driving now!' Coderre beamed.

'Actually I'm not. You've left the autopilot on. However-' Myun reached out and overrid the computer's controls. 'Now I'm driving!'

And Coderre knew it too. If she hadn't immediately grabbed the rail by her head, she'd have brained herself on it as the vehicle veered left, then right, then accelerated rapidly to jump and make a colossal splash in either a huge puddle or a small lake.

'There's a... Clever girl...' The Explorer - She'd been called a Wildcatter before - Said, with her mind clearly not into it. Myun never ceased to amaze her: Sometimes as fickle and childish as any other 8 year old, other times more mature and intelligent - or so it seemed - Than so-called members of sentient races many times her age.

Satisfied that Myun wouldn't end up with the Landroamer at the bottom of a 300 metre cliff anytime soon, Coderre took a rest, and cooked up a small meal for herself and her daughter.

***

Much later, Myun had bored of avoiding all the animals and plants and had just gone straight for Jarvisston, as Coderre had. The girl went to her bunk and Coderre completed the journey, parking several miles from Jarvisston's outskirts. Taking a vehicle as big and attention-grabbing as this into a town where 'Law' was a dirty word was just asking for trouble.

The heavy pistol that Coderre strapped to her hip was the only law she knew anyone would respect around here.

'Myun honey, I'm going to go to town now.'

'Can I come, Mummy?'

'No Myun, not now.'

'Aww! I wanna see the bug-eyes and weirdoes! I wanna pet Schlorbian!'

'Not now honey, Mummy has to fix the Landroamer. But maybe after I find someone to help, I'll take you there, okay?'

'Promise?'

'If you're a good girl. What do good girl's do?'

'They sit in the Landroamer and keep it locked down witht he electrohull ready, and if anyone gets in, they get their faces blown off with Mummy's big gun.'

'Thats my girl.' Coderre said, and gave her daughter an affectionate hug. Then she clambered down the ladder, pulled on a chunky Mrox-hide jacket and started jogging towards town.

***

Later, after managing to pass through the bulk of Jarvisston without anyone trying anything stupid, Coderre came upon the ramshackle abode of the one the barkeep had called 'Raften'. He was 'A good odd-job man' apparently.

Well, if he doesn't know anything about fixing a Landroamer, lets hope he knows someone who does... Coderre thought, optimistically. She looked around her to see who was watching, before putting a reassuring hand on her laser pistol, before pressing the door-bleep.

[CKW]

"Oh, bollocks, i should really start saving for an speeder." Cain muttered while walking by the fading sunlight , struggling to decipher what the holowatch hour display said. It was a bit late, and nearly impossible to catch his friend Alice in the bar. He rubbed his left arm, and sighed. Suddenly getting out for a drink wasn't as appealing as he tought at first.
It was getting cold, as the radiation heat from YDIX sun began to worn out. He supposed he had naught to do but enter his little rental room, put the holovid on and watch a lame action movie to laugh at all the tactical mistakes. Life as a hard-working clean individual was boring and pathetic sometimes, but... wasn't that what he wanted to, after all?
He resumed his walk, his toned body now swinging a little more to add extra impulse to his legs and thus speed his march. A short time and he'd be by his little haven.
"hey, Cain!" A female voice cheered by his back. A familiar sweet and melodic tune. Alice's own voice. Nevertheless, it sufficed to stop the scarred man in his tracks for a while.
"Oh, hi, Alice!" His face twisted in a cheery grin, while he spinned around himself and waved his right arm, to salute. "What are you doing on the street by this time? It's getting dark, you know..."
"I know, but i had some... legal business to attend. I actually needed to renew the speeder license." The woman said, while walking in that particulary feminine style. "Anyway, I must get home or my brother will worry, see you!" She waved her hand politely, and resumed her trip, nodding briefly as Cain answered the salute.
Tough luck. He may have asked her to go to the holocinema, or to sit and have a starcoffee by a quiet place. But somehow, Cain's quiet, and calculating mind wasn't really working well when in company of her. Perhaps it was her charming swing, as if her well proportioned body curves had a hypnotic property of some sorts. There was also the mellow voice, and those vivid green eyes,wild ginger hair and expressive lips. Cain was Icy, but not enough to deny he had some attraction for that prized example of the human female kind. He shook his head and resumed his walk as well. Alice... an angel that lived in the backwater town of Jarvisston, surrounded by mercenary devils and fiendish smugglers. Probably half of the town would whine like idiots for her, but he couldn't really blame them, as he felt a bit the same.

Sunk in his thoughts was Cain when he stumbled upon someone in the way back to his home,near the pump station, eventually stopping the walk of Cain. His reflexes- and the reflexes of the other person were good enough to allow both of them stay on their feet despite the impact.

Cain quickly turned his eyes on the misfortuned who he had almost made fall, and he saw an average- blue haired woman, with an eye patch. She did have the external looks of an armed to the teeth mercenary, but her neutral stare tipped him off that she wasn't... She had been submitted to martial discipline, for sure.

"I'm terribly sorry, miss. I didn't see you." He quickly pieced together a quick apology. "Are you okay?"

(OOC. If you want that last bit removed or edited, just say it, Wes)

[Wesforce]

'Am I okay?' Coderre repeated. In a heartbeat she had her LasPistol up and between the fragger's eyes. 'Am I fragging okay? You're not in such a good fragging position to be asking such a question, are you?' Coderre growled.

The lumbering lummox who'd bumped into her backed up a bit, his face neutral. Coderre could tell instantly that the man was ex-military. Obviously fancied himself a bit. Most likely this was his way of "getting to know" a female. Next he'd be dragging her down the local watering hole, slip a few pills in her drink...

'I-I-I didn't mean...'

'No, you didn't, and you don't mean shiv, now vuck off before I cauterise your face, funthole!'

Coderre of course wasn't normally so abrupt with people, but she'd had bad experiences here in Jarvisston, not to mention the suspicion drilled into her through war experience. If anything happened to her here, would Myun be okay, all alone with the Landroamer? Undoubtedly... But would she understand enough? There was so much Coderre neded to tell her daughter, but now wasn't the right time... And the right time might not be for several years...

The big lug slunk off, sheepishly.

Teach him to patronise me... Coderre thought, and checked herself. There were pickpockets around here who could have your ID, your cash, your weapons, the fillings from your vucking teeth after an encounter as close as that... Luckily Coderre still seemed to have everything in order.

***

Bit of a hard case... Have to watch out for her in future... Cain thought to himself. Definitely ex-military. Not sure where she served... The third level of Tartarus from her reaction...

[SW Freak]

"We have arrived," spake the monk.

Alanara didn't say anything. It was hardly surprising. He smiled instead, or, at least, the corners of his mouth twitched up. He vaulted over the side of the skimmer and landed on graceful feet that just happened to be clad in practical steel-skeletoned boots. The ends of his slightly baggy black trousers were tucked into them, leaving the plentyful pockets exposed and easily in reach. A t-shirt clung to his chest, black again, making the already firm muscles that his latest training had perfected easily visible. He had forgone his coat this evening; the true chill had yet to set in. Soon he'd have to don it again, however, or face bearing the brunt of the elements unprotected. The plateau could get mighty cold.

*I'll unload the cargo, while you negotiate our fee.*

The brother smiled in polite and total incomprehension. Alanara sighed, but quietly. He was used to occasions like this. Sign language was one of the lesser known forms of communication, after all. Perhaps he should invest in a synthisizer. But they always felt so cold and impersonal. Returning to the mater at hand, focusing his thoughts once more, the Sishvna jerked one thumb at himself and another at the crates. Then he pointed at the brother and indicated the man seemingly overseeing this dingy warehouse.

"Ah. I see. Very well."

Alanara wheeled one of the crates across the floor, sliding it into the spot indicated to him. It was out of sight of the other two, a fortunate coincidence. Keeping three hands on the crate he discreetly tapped out a complicated signal with the fourth, looking around to ensure no one was coming.

"Thank god!" came a muffled cry as the lid, after some initial thuds and shuffles, lifted up and dropped away.

*Surely you mean thank the Abstract?* signed Alanara (Or words to those effect. Using specialised terms was a bit hit and miss), smiling.

Javenco took a hold of the hand offered and hauled herself, painfully, out the container.

"If I ever have an idea this stupid again," she muttered, tossing her ponytail of golden blonde over her shoulder. "Punch me before I can do me harm. It'll be quicker. Thanks for the cushions and stuff, though."

Alanara smiled acknowledgment and the two of them made their way to a back door, albeit somewhat stiffly in Javenco's case. When he came to investigate, the other monk would find a note, somewhat crumpled after being in someone's pocket too long, stating that Alanara had "Pissed off down to the pub for a booze-up" and would "Be back later" with "Love, Al."

The two bounty hunters found the bar with the ease of experts everywhere, and observed the scene within with practiced eyes. There was a booze hound, thrusting vigerously and vilely, and there was the object of his passion, a...

"What is that, would you reckon?"

*I'm not sure.*

"Looks a bit like an Ashanti, from here. Can't really tell, though."

The alien turned away from the drunkard, giving the two mercenaries a glimpse of its face through the visor of its helmet.

"Nigashar," enthused Javenco, and Alanara nodded.

*Should we help?*

"Nah, we just got here. Don't want to wreck the place too soon."

The Sishvna and the Luthamar made their way to the counter. Javenco ordered drinks for the two of them as Alanara looked around the room. He watched the Nigashar leave and, with a certain amount of disdain, saw the drunkard stumble towards the bar. Reaching back with his lower right arm, he tapped Javenco on the shoulder and pointed with his higher right arm. She followed his arm with her eyes and frowned as she saw the human. She turned away, trying to ignore him, but to no avail. The drunkard smiled as Javenco fell into his hazy gaze.

"Well, hey there, booty-ful." He chuckled drunkenly at his idiotic pun. "How'd you like to take a look at my laser gun?"

"Oh, penis humour. My sides are aching."

"That's not the only thing that'll ache once I'm done, eh?" The drunk tried to waggle his eyebrows in a lude manner, but ended up blinking instead.

"Doubtful. I've better things to do than wait for you to get it up."

*Subtle. I thought I taught you better* Alanara smiled to indicate that he was joking.

"Well, there's your way of doing things, and there's mine."

The drunk, who had missed Al's silent input, leered at her as he thought she was talking to him.

"And what's your way, missie?"

"The one where I walk over there. Away from you."

Javenco handed one of the bottles the barkeep had set on the counter to Alanara before turning to stride across the room. A hand reached out and closed around her arm. The Luthamar looked at the offending digits, up the arm it was attached to and then into the drunken fool's face.

"That ain't the way it works, missie," the man said quietly.

"Let go or so help me God you won't be able to hold onto anything ever again."

"Ooooh, I'm shakin' in my boots."

Javenco didn't bother with a second comment. Instead, she swung her arm up, grunting as the bottle connected with the side of her target's face. Her arm was released instantly. She turned away from the man as he screamed in pain and began to walk across to a table by the window, silent. Alanara made to follow her when suddenly he was pushed roughly aside. The drunkard, the right side of his face a bloody mess, took two steps forward and grabbed hold of Javenco's ponytail. She cried out as her head was pulled back. The drunkard leaned forward as he held the woman in place, his vile breath making her gag.

"I said that ain't the way it works, bitch."

He grunted suddenly as a fist slammed into his kidneys with a sound like meat hitting a slab. Again and again, the blows landed, each one thumping into him with malicious intent. The man stumbled forward as he was struck at the base of the neck. He let go of Javenco, who began to fall backwards, having been outbalanced by the drunkard. A pair of hands caught her, though, and she was hauled to her feet at the same time as a bottle flung by her catcher collided with the human's chest as he turned. There was no time for Javenco to mutter even a hasty thank you, however, as Alanara swept past her, a whirlwind of fury. His upper right fist connected with the man's face in a vicous hook a moment before his lower left arm smashed into the man's stomach. Al's four arms were practically a series of blurs as they connected again and again with the offender's face and body. At last the Sishvna floored the man with a swift uppercut, knocking the man soundly out of whatever senses he had left. Al turned away from the man, glanced at Javenco and then signed something to the barman before striding out.

"He says sorry," muttered Javenco, slightly stunned.

With that, she hurried out the door. She caught up with her companion a short distance down the road. The Sishvna flinched as she gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Then he sighed, bowing his head. The two were silent for a time. Then Alanara placed his top hands over his eyes for a short moment. The sign he used only with Javenco to say "sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for. Those spineless pussies in the bar would have done nothing against that drunken bastard even if he had decided to rape me right there on the spot. He caught me by surprise, and you pretty much saved me. Thanks, Al."

He looked over his shoulder at her, a slight smile on his lips.

*I'm just sorry that I lost my cool. That I didn't stop him before he could lay a hand on you in the first place.*

"Don't be. Everyone misses someone once in a while. Remember that time we were on Avarice? I had that beautiful custom rifle Shifty cooked up, had that senator chick in my sights? And I missed. I'd have been toast if you hadn't gotten that guard when you did. You saved my life then, and you probably did it again today. So don't apologise."

Al smiled again.

*Now what?*

"Well, they tossed the booze hound out on his ear just after I left, and I doubt he has the balls to go back in, and I think you deserve a drink. What do you say?"

*Sounds good, Javenco.*

[Nyerguds]

"Oh, zark this!"
Meyvoru sighed, her lower gills fluttering a bit. She'd left the bar too early, only to find herself sulking about her problems again.
Damn that idiotic drunk human, she thought as she slammed the cockpit door behind her.

She went back into Jarvisston, looking for nothing in particular as long as it could take her mind off things. After a short walk, she found herself wandering around the docking bays.

She looked up to the sky, and sighed again, knowing that she couldn't even see her homeworld's star from YDIX.
"What am I even doing here?" she said, sliding down against one of the side of one of the hangars. She detached her helmet and set her gills wide open, ignoring the sting of the low-pH environment as she pumped an intoxicating amount of oxygen into her body.

It helped. She calmed down, and put her helmet back on. Maybe she should get back on that idea of making a small oxygen collector on her helmet's filter...

Her train of thought was interrupted by a calm voice that sounded a bit synthesised.
"Apparently, you're sitting against a wall, breathing from an atmosphere that doesn't seem too suited for either of us."

Meyvoru looked up and saw a figure in a thick black cloak, most of his green face hidden behind a breathing apparatus. The grey eyes seemed friendly though... a welcome change after the encounter in the bar.

"An oxygen overdose is slightly intoxicating for me." she said, staring at the ground. She had the feeling she was confessing a drinking habit to a complete stranger.
"Nice to know this mess can be good for something." the cloaked figure said, smiling. He reached his arm down to her. "I'm Vokkar."
Meyvoru looked up, grabbed the arm and pulled herself up.
"Meyvoru." she replied, her front gills widening in a smile.

[CKW]

Truly an odd day in his life, thought the ex-Spec-Ops when he finally arrived home, just a couple of buildings away from the "crash" place. The all-so familiar stench of organic waste piled up in a half-worn out container filled the place. Flicking, power-faulty lights bathed the main door of the building, while a big, mag-keypad was showing the words "LOCKED" right next to it. Cain mechanically pulled the mag-key out of his pocket, and slided it through the magkeypad rail. It beeped, and Cain pushed the door... To find that it was locked.

"DARN!" He cursed. And, to his frustration, a recorded-syntetized voice came from the locking device.

"Our database seems currently offline. Please try in a while."

Cain sighed. Would this weirdeness end today? The idea of spending some time in the local pub gained new force, even without Alice to lighten up the ambience... After all, knowing the manager of the building, it could take hours, even days to fix the lock failure. And so, once again he undid his walk towards the center of Jarvisston, walking past the woman who had aimed at him, and was still waiting for Raften to open the door up. He didn't give a damn about her. Nor she did about him, for what it seemed.

Cain opened the door, and the impact of smoke, alcoholic haze and incoherent babbling made him stood a bit in the door, trying to adapt himself to the drastic change from outside, before finally entering.

Dodging the best he could, the now tired ex-soldier sat in the bar stool, just to spot two familiar faces next to him... The four armed monk, Alanara, and it's peer, Javenco. Having been in the deuterium station for a while, and being Jarvisston a small town, some of the faces had become known to him, and Alanara was certainly one of these individuals. Poor guy, having to talk with sign language.

Albeit neither Alanara, for obvious reasons, or Javenco, hell knows why, didn't look too much of a long winded talker, Cain wished to take his chances.

"Hiya, duo. How's life treating you, hm?" He cheered, grasping his newly ordered Star White Wine glass in his hand.

[SW Freak]

Alanara looked at him for a moment, a frown furrowing his face. But Javenco recognised him from their meeting when the two had first graced a planet, not terribly long ago.

"Hi, Cain." She smiled, momentarily forgetting the drunkard. Javenco got along with everyone, up to the point when she was paid to kill them. "It's been a while. Al, you remember Cain, don't you?"

The Sishvna nodded slightly. Of course, the man had stunk somewhat of fuel the last time, but he had seemed an all right sort. A bit intense, still a bit hardballed after a military career, and human. That had been a small sticking point with Javenco but, she had reasoned with herself, "He's poor as a Nurelian ****monkey, and stinks twice as much. I doubt anyone like him'ld be able to take advantage of anyone." It had been quite a touching moment, watching that first very, very small step towards acceptance of humanity in general, though they still had to work on humans in particular.

*I don't remember clearly, Cain. Can you understand what I'm saying?*

"Some," said the ex-soldier. "Silent runs, see? It helps to be able to talk without speaking." He glanced at Javenco again. "You two never answered my question," he said, a smile gracing his lips. "How's it been?"

*We had some trouble with the restless natives,* signed Alanara, using three hands for added eloquence while taking a swig on the drink held in the forth.

"Trouble with the..." Cain got lost there, as most did when faced with Al's specialised signs.

"Restless inhabitants. I think. He confuses me sometimes, to."

"What happened?"

"Ah, some drunken fool. What else happens to a ravishing beauty like me?"

*Quite a lot, if I remember our most recent missions correctly.*

"Shut up."

*Didn't say a word.*

"What about you, Cain? How's your life been?"

[VO]

Vokkar carefully scrutinised the alien through the folds in his hood. He recognised her species; although her kind weren't common, they were notable enough for Vokkar to recall the last time he'd met a Nigashari, on the rings of Jarbal IV. He waited as she dusted off her legs, then spoke, the indigenous nuances of his language which would otherwise have translated idiosyncratically smoothed out in the toneless projected voice.

"A Nigashar? Bit odd to find your kind on this spiral arm."

"Believe me," said the being called Meyvoru "I wouldn't be here if I had a choice" She swayed slightly, still under the intoxicating effects of the oxygen, and caught herself on the wall, just as Vokkar shot out a greenish grey talon which clamped around her wrist to support her.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I think so. Zark my fragging physiology."

Vokkar laughed ironically, a strange grating sound that echoed out of his robotic voicebox. "At least you can breathe the stuff. I take this off for more than a few minutes, and I choke to death."
The Nigashar nodded; her head was spinning again now she stood up, the centre of gravity of her body swept out from underneath her like a carpet.

"You got somewhere to go?" she nodded, and Vokkar continued. "I don't think you should be out like that; this isn't a nice town, especially for someone who can't breathe the air. I'll walk you back"

"Ok." Meyvoru staggered forward a few steps, then found her footing in the dirt. Vokkar followed.

"So," said her benefactor. "What's a nice sentient like you doing in a scumhole like this? You don't look the mercenary type."

"I'm not. I'm just stuck here just about until I can raise enough money to get out of this system the long way."

"Oh. You can't FTL, can you."

Meyvoru shook her head

"Well, I'd gladly give you a board on my craft - if using the Gate didn't add two and a half months to the journey time, and cut my profit line to just about zero." He apologised, and Meyvoru smiled.
"Don't worry, I get that alot around here. Now I'm just flying speeders and saving the 'creds so the kilocreds look after themselves."

"A pilot?" Vokkar steadied Meyvoru as she wobbled again. "You know anything about fixing servoengines?"

"Yeah, a little," she said truthfully; back on Nigashar she'd done a bit of self-repair on her family's gravity cruiser. "Why do you ask?"

"I have a ship. Some fraggers on trade lane decided it would be fun to zokk over my portside. So I limped here, and slitch at the machine shop said it will cost me 30 KC for the work, not including the parts. I reckon I can buy replacements for 5, but I need someone to help me fit them. It would be a day's work, and I'll pay you 15 for your help. Interested?"


***

Dr Khanis snapped awake as the skimmer dropped out of the air on the outskirts of the science camp. It was dark now , the watch tower looming out of the dark, illuminated by artificial lights of activity below.

"I don't know about you, Lucrezie, but I'm hungry." His assistant nodded. In truth she'd rather get a fix, but she knew the doctor would think it odd if she refused the chance to eat after a long fast in the field.

"So," he continued, barely registering her approval. "I was thinking we could eat with the troops today in the Merc mess - show them the good Doctors of the facility aren't so alien, wot?"

***

The storm which had blown in from the western coast was brewing in intensity, sweeping across the swathes of forest and tenderly picking up needle-like leaves before tossing them like skittles through the air. Cloudbanks piled up like a speeder crash, lightning arced between clouds like some vast atmospheric machinery and stabbed down into the greensward. Myun, who until the first crack of thunder had been busy polishing mummy's big gun, stood up, and pressed her nose against the cold plexiglass window of the Land Roamer. The first thick languid droplets of rain splattered against it's windows, and the little girl watched the storm sweep in.

***

Io wrinkled his nose and sniffed the humid air, rewarded with a splattering raindrop on the hairless skin. He glanced up at the sky as the downpour began, huge clouds theatrically breaking above him. Glancing up the track, he began to run in a loping athletic stride towards Jarvisston to avoid the worst of the rain.

***

"Gruddammit," said Raften, as he shut his door from the outside. A blue-haired woman was unsucessfully ringing the door next door. "Rain." Back in the core, he was used to weather management systems with scheduled rainfall at regular intervals, not storms and blizzards and whatever other fragging climate you got on YDIX. The least they could do would be to dome over this town like on Kagoon.

"Looks like I'm staying in tonight," he muttered to himself. He pulled out his key from his pocket and slid it into the lock.

LOCKED. "Our system is temporarily down. We apologise for any inconvenience. Please try again in a few moments"

"Frag" he muttered, looking at the sky. "What now?"

[Wesforce]

As the rain started to fall Coderre's thoughts immediately went to Myun, out there all alone in the Landrover. She wasn't unduly worried, because they'd both been through harder storms before, and the Landroamer was a tough vehicle designed for the worst nature had to offer. But even so...

She tried the door again, and cursed the fragger for not answering, when from the corner of her eye she noticed a tanned, green-haired man in a shabby suit leave the building next door. He immediately turned around, and also seemed to be having trouble with doors.

The description fit perfectly. Coderre, who had an eye for the details, resolved to put to rights the damn barman who'd got the address wrong.

'You would be Raften, then.' She said to the man, measuredly.

'Well I'd hardly be anyone else, would I?' He said, not turning away from the door.

'I'm sorry...' He said, turning to face her once he'd given up on the door. 'Bloody door. Can I help you?'

'I was wondering if you could help with my vehicle... A Landroamer on the outskirts of town. It needs some bits...'

The rain was beating a steady drumbeat on the buildings, the ground, and them.

'Maybe we can discuss this somewhere else?' She asked him.

[CKW]

"Well, i've had a weird day today." Cain sipped his drink, becoming more confident on the chatter. Looks like the other two were here to chill out and unwind, aswell. "First, i get showered in speeder waste because of a retard who ignited his vehicle too near. Then my boss ranting. One heck of a greedy blackpea man, or else. And now, the maglock of my building is offline so i have to stick out in the cold." He pointed out. "Life's as drole as always. But hey, i don't risk having my cut throat on a daily basis, like the patrons around here."

Javenco sighed. "How...true. But you're still a... "

"Loser? Yes, i'm aware of that." Cain sipped his drink, while peeking out towards the plexiglass window, obscured by oozy mud hell knows how had it appeared."Crap, now a storm. Wonderful." He commented to himself, while passing a hand through his short hair.

*A storm?*

"It looks like he's right" Javenco seconded, while hearing the rythmical clapping of the rain against the window.

Cain sipped his drink. He rested his head back, and inspired. He was mentalizing it was quite probable that he'd be spending all night inside that ethilic den that was the pub. "Looks like we'll be spending here quite a lot more than expected, no? Maybe we could...uh, play cards?".

[Nyerguds]

"Fifteen kilocreds eh?"

Meyvoru frowned. With fifteen more she might just have enough to fix her teleport. If only they had let her into the prototype's final design phase as she had requested... then she might have some real idea of how much it would cost her now.

She looked at Vokkar. "Tempting offer... but I know I'm a bit light-headed at the moment, and I don't trust myself making deals in this state. I'd like to get my head cleared up a bit first... and see the ship for myself."
"That's no problem." Vokkar said with a smile. "Interesting to see that some species can be sober enough to realize they're not sober."
"Thank zark for that!" Meyvoru laughed, her front gills emitting a hissing sound while fluttering like mad. "Otherwise I'd be as bad as these humans!"

"Careful!" Vokkar said as she nearly fell again. With Vokkar's help she managed to stay upright. She stared in the distance, not really perceiving anything through the oxygen-induced haze and the oncoming rainstorm.

"I really did have too much..." she said. "Thank zark I can't actually get sick from this stuff like humans with their zarking ethanol. Now that's just nasty."
"You suffer no side effects?" Vokkar asked.
"If only." Meyvou smiled. "At least humans can get a good night sleep before they get the zarking headache. Mine's coming up about now."
"Let's go then," Vokkar said.

[ImageKlonoa]

Io reached a meadow where the weather could be felt in full force. The pelts he carried on his back were soggy and already started to rot. The hungry flying insects it attracted didnt help matters much, as they couldnt distinguish between the dead and the living. He immediately swung the skins around a couple of times before throwing them hundreds of feet away and bolting off towards Jarvisston.

He pulled off some pretty acrobatic moves, just to keep his speed up. some dives, sme rolls, some vaults over unsuspecting drunken aliens...

Once within city limits, he found a place to dry himself off, which ended up being a barof sorts. Once inside, he began shaking, drenching anything and anyone nearby with water, then finished the job using a tongue as a towel. This little show of his caught the eyes of everyone inside the pub.

"What?" Io asked. Despite their instinctive aggresiveness, being stared at always made a Bashiiran feel awkward.

[Desolator12]

"Uhm... I would help, but I am locked out of my own damn house..." Raften said. "...unles you have some money for a new door and a powerful explosive, I really don't see any way of getting in without re-wiring the whole damned system to override the..."

...it was at this point, that Corderre began to somewhat tune out Raften's engineering jargon. "Can you get in or not? I'd like to hurry the vuck up and get the thing fixed."

"It'll take some time to re-wire the door without the right equipment..."
Corderre drew and fired a blast from her Laser Pistol at the door panel. The door instantly unlocked.

"Or, that would work to... let me get my equipment, and I'll see what I can re-work on the...?"

"...Landroamer."

"Right, Right... what exactly happened..." Raften said, as he attempted to access a databank of vehicle schematics"

[Wesforce]

'I um...' Coderre sighed heavily. 'I hit a fully grown Mastodox. The front wheel mounts are dangerously close to buckling, lubricant is pissing out the port reservoir, the reserve gyro is trashed, the canopy is cracked in seven places, the spotlights aren't there anymore, three cylo-batteries jettisoned themselves, a hubcap is missing, the satellite uplink is jammed to the Nigashari Porn channel and the doughnut maker now makes waffles.'

Raften had paused at this point, and now looked at Coderre, hands on his hips.

'And let me guess, you lost your damage-report machine too?'

'Probably would have if I hadn't sold it. Care to come out and take a look? I left it a bit out of town though.' Coderre added, mainly because she wanted an excuse to get back out there so Myun wasn't alone.

'Uh...'

'I'll buy you a drink?'

[Master Chris]

Oh dear, I'm terribly embarassed. I thought I had posted a reply to your query VO but apparently, I am a fool. As it stands, Sam would end up on YDIX-13 when the Space Pirates took a shuttle there, still ignoring him, to spend or sell their ill-gotten gains. Sam plans to remain on-planet only long enough to secure transport off-planet. Of course, things never go quite to plan...Again, my apologies for being so behind the times.

Sorenial Alsen Marduq, AKA Sam, had spent days wandering the various establishments and stores in the business district, each markedly different to the next. From spare ship parts to quality time with certain individuals with questionable morals, Sam investigated and analysed every store and its produce in extreme detail, and was kicked out in turn when the shopkeep discovered that Sam had no credits.

Of all the merchants Sam had annoyed, the Zalgar pimp was most upset when Sam declined the services of the multi-limbed, very flexible, and very talented Hexaldrian "Debby" after 20 minutes of intense interrogation and inspection. It struck Sam, as an experienced diplomatic aid, that the pimp was a poor business man for putting such pressure on potential clients. When Sam told him as much, the Zalgar attacked him, drawing an archaic but most impressive device from a holster hidden by extravagant clothing. Sam remembered the basic shape and design of the device from his studies of the human culture, it was a pistol.

"Pimp you up, I am going to! Dirty reactor slime, you are!"

The Zalgar screamed in broken english.

Sam, without hesitation, stepped forwards and simultaneously grabbed the pimp's throat and wrist. The Zalgar gurgled in surprise before he found the pistol wrestled from his grasp and turned against him. The Zalgar pimp had but a single moment to look back upon his life before it was ended in a bright green flash. Jade ichor splashed across Sam's face as he discharged the weapon right between the beady eyes of the ex-sentient being.

His knowledge of non-human biology was not great but he assumed that most creatures had their core nervous system reasonably close to their optic organs. Assuming he had, at least, stopped the creature for the moment, Sam took this opportunity to frisk the body and found an ornamental knife with cruel curves. Which he then used to slice the Zalgar open and sever several important looking tubes. Hopefully, this would prevent the pimp ever regenerating. Simple strategy dictated that one never leave a defeated foe to recover and pose a threat once more.

At this point, Sam noticed that Debby, the Hexaldrian prostitute had lost control of herself and was screaming and exhibiting other behaviours which suggested she was uncomfortable with the present circumstance. Sam was unperturbed by her actions but took silent note of the fact that where she had previously been a light shade of pink, no doubt to attract business, she had now adopted a sharp pattern of black and yellow strips across her exposed flesh. It was raw, animal emotion and Sam found it vaguely distasteful, losing control of oneself so utterly was a surefire way to lose out in any serious diplomatic endeavour.

Sam wiped the green blood from the knife and dropped it, but kept the large, chemical projectile weapon he had wrestled from the Zalgar. Holstering the device, Sam politely thanked Debby for her hospitality and left.

A few days passed, during which Sam had been approached by the local authorities concerning the recent murder of a Zalgar by a human whose appearance vaguely resembled Sam's. Of course, Sam declined to know anything about the incident, as was expected from a diplomat, and he took silent pride in the fact that, technically, he knew nothing about a human who had killed a pimp in cold blood. Of course, Sam did know alot about a Slyphean-Human hybrid who had killed a pimp in cold blood, the police were just not asking the right questions. Such subtle details were lost upon the men who questioned him.

Sam felt it prudent to lie low for the time being and withdrew from the market district, choosing to occupy a discarded pile of refuse. Hopefully, he would be able to find passage off of YDIX and make his way back to Garm, his creator. While he was considering his options, the rain started. At first, it was only an inconvenience but soon Sam found his current lodgings were not capable of keeping him protected from the elements and, as such, Sam was driven outside and he began to look for some place out of the rain.

As he sloshed about in the downpour, Sam came across what he identified as a vehicle of sorts. Although he was not familiar with the make or model, it was clearly capable of sheltering him from the rain. Sam was somewhat surprised when, as he approached the vehicle, a face squinted out at him. Conditioned by the Slyph to communicate with humans, it was easy to determine that the face belonged to a human child and the very briefest of glimpses suggested she was apprehensive and afraid of Sam. He smiled and raised his hands in what he knew was considered a declaration of peace amoung humans and advanced slowly towards the warm, dry cab of the vehicle. The girl cringed and, as he got closer, waved a heavy weapon from behind the window. Sam recognised her fear as a threat to his immediate safety and backed away slowly.

He figured that he should wait and see what happens. If the girl was capable of driving the vehicle, she would have done so already. Therefore, Sam reasoned, the girl had been left there by someone else who may, or may not be coming back for her. Either way, Sam might be able to play it to his advantage. It was wet, cold, and dark but Sam had found an opportunity of sorts and he was going to milk it for whatever he could get.

I hope the pimpage scene wasn't too hardcore. Also, worry not, Wes, Sam doesn't intend to mess up your character or her daughter.

[VO]

Vokkar was acutely aware that he could perhaps offer Meyvoru his cloak - his alien physiology was used enough to extremely humid atmospheres - but this would leave him naked and probably cause even more problems. Water splashed around them in the dirty streets as beings of all shapes and sizes ran for cover, far outnumbering the few aquatic or amphibious beings who actively left the shelter of their homes and workplaces to bathe in the oncoming downpoor.

"Zarking sin!," muttered Meyvoru. "It isn't meant to rain like this here." The two aliens ducked beneath a loose awning which tossed and turned in the wind. A speeder shot by, trailing a cable in the dust while those that had been in the street jumped out of the way. Vokkar adjusted the filter on his rebreather to cut out the driblets of rain which were making their way into his mouth.

"How far?"

"Only two more blocks!"

"Right, let's get go..." said Vokkar and turned to move on. Almost immediately he collided with a green-haired human in a scuffed suit who was dashing in the other direction. The human's companion, a blue haired female of the same species.*

"Hey, grag you!" the short blue haired human scowled at Vokkar from behind her eyepath. "Can't you see we're in a hurry"

"Apologies." After he stood up, Vokkar lowered his eyes in his race's gesture of amends. The human grumbled something, and waited for her companion to find his feet again. There was a sudden flash of lighting, and the sky rumbled with thunder.

"Whoa," said Meyvoru. "This is going to be quite a storm." Her statement was rewarded by another dagger of lightning that stabbed down through the sky. There was a muffled boom and the ground shook.

"What was that?" said Vokkar, looking round. There was a hazy glow over the buildings in the direction of the spaceport docks. A peice of blazing shrapnel clattered off the roof of one of the nearby houses.

"Fez! My ship!" Vokkar dived away and charged back in the direction they had come.

***

Cain's military instincts kicked in immediately and his hands dropped to where his pistol would be. He ducked behind the table, spilling Javenco's drink as the bar shook with the blast of the explosion.

"Hey!" began the Sishvana's companion, but was silenced as, on the other side of the room, a bottle of Zarinn Two Century vintage toppled over on it's shelf. This triggered a torrent of glassware which showered the barman in a potent mixture of alcahols and other intoxicants. Alanara leapt to his feet.
"What was that?" Javenco hoisted herself up on the back of the seat to see out of the slimy barroom window. She scanned the horizon.

"Oh frag," she said. "There's a fire at the spaceport. Looks like the Deuterium store's going up or something"

*What was it with humans anyway, though Vokkar? Almost every individual you came across had it's extremities dyed an unnatural shade.

I'll do something for the other characters later/if you don't post something in the next day or two. AI, I know you're all alone and you'll get an update later.

[Desolator12]

"No need for that... I don't drink much. I have no tolerance for the stuff." Raften said. He proceded to tap a few keys, and remove a smallish chip, which he put into a small hand-held device. He also grabbed his toolbelt, containing the basic equipment for a fix...

"Ok... lead the way. If I can't fix it there VIA general jerry-rigging or simple patching, I'll have to come back to make or fix a broken component... oh, and I can see about ordering a new DRM if you want... they do come in handy occasionally...mainly for the people who fix what gets broken... but it's also good to know if you need to achieve a minimum safe distance"

As if on cue, an explosion rumbled in the distance...and a great plume of smoke began to pour from the ground some distance away. "What the hell?"

[SW Freak]

*If the reserves there explode, this entire town will probably be decimated.*

"Yeah, no ****. I saw something like this once. Lost most of my damn hair, and I was about two miles away."

*Well, we cannot get away in time. The monastery speeder is an archaic wreck. We could wait for the proper officials to respond...*

This got a cynical laugh from Javenco.

*Or we can follow some of these others and help.*

Alanara indicated the several occupies of the bar who were hurrying out and heading towards the fire. Much as Javenco disliked the idea, she could see the merit. As Alanara said, those things made a mighty explosion. Another pair of hands, and another pair of hands and another pair of hands (And another pair of hands, if Cain decided to come along.) would help.

"Al's right, Cain. We should help. Coming?"

"I work there. I have to. It's probably in the fuggin' contract," he added as an afterthought.

"Goodie. Let's head."

The trio scurried out, rushing through the downpour towards the green blaze on the horizon. Upon reaching it, they skidded to a halt. Javenco grabbed the closest person, a tall alien in a thick black cloak and rebreather.

"Hey, you! What happened here?"

[VO]

Lucrezie shovelled a spoonful of resynthesised carbohydrades into her mouth. Across the bench from her, Dr Khanis wolfed down slice after slice of a mud-coloured steak; undoubtably caught fresh from the wild. At the servery a huge joint of the beast was being slowly dispersed amoungst the mercenaries.

Dr Khanis fitted in here, she reflected, in amoung aliens of every size and shape imaginable. She watched as he jested with a seven-eyed Auronite before turning to give a thumbs up to an alien with purple fur and chitinous claws the length of carving knives. Lucrezie stuck to her food, stolidly chewing and barely lifting her eyes from the plate. This was his element, not hers, and she knews she didn't belong here.
The good doctor's comlink buzzed. He picked it up, listened for a second, then nodded.
"Ok, I'll be right on it." He stood, pushing the plate back from him and towards Lucrezie.

"I gotta go to town. They're in some kinda trouble, and that means our Deutronium supply is in jeapardy! Luckily they called the right man!" He winked at Lucrezie, and began to push through the mob of aliens towards the door.
Lucrezie sat in silence for a moment watching the 3DTV set into the wall. Then slowly, her brain began to make connections. She got her 'Kalms from Jarvisston; if there was trouble, it might mean there would be a cut in supply... leaving her with no way to deal with everything. She leapt up, knowing she had to catch up with Dr. Khanis and secure her kicks.

***

Vokkar had been catching his breath, one gaunt hand on his chest, when the human woman grabbed him. The atmosphere of this world did not suit him at all.

"Human..." he rasped, leering and pulling up his hood which had fallen as he ran. The woman stared back at him unpeturbed. A sishvana and a human with a head that looked like a bowling ball pulled up just behind her.

"Well?"

Ahead of them the acrid smoke billowed and tumbled over itself. Bits of the landing bays were visible over the clouds, but apart from that everything ahead of them was in shroud. By the sound of the boom, all the deutronium stock had gone up in one go.

"Zark," he muttered, as more people arrived from all directions to survey the scene. With them was Meyvoru and the green-haired human male he had knocked down. Already, a chain of Gnorks was tossing bucketfuls of water onto the blaze, hoping to keep it from spreading to their portside shanty-town. What passed for the town's fire fighters passed overhead on a speeder, trailing hosepipes and foam.

"Look pal," said the blonde human, shaking his shoulder. "Do you have any ide..." Vokkar shrugged his shoulders, and pulled away from her, drawing up his cloak over his respirator as he plunged into the blaze.

[SW Freak]

"Hey! Don't go in there! You'll get flash fried!"

She sighed, and turned to where Alanara was standing. Where he had been standing, rather. The Sishvana was already running forward, catching up the other humanoid quickly. Rather than attempting to stop him, as Javenco had half expected, Alanara merely kept pace with the other alien, seemingly as intent as he to get in and either help anyone inside, or whatever other motives the two aliens might have.

"What did I just say, damnit!" Javenco sighed and went to help the Gnorks with their bucket chain. She had a soft spot for the underdogs, possibly because she'd been one for so long.

Alanara, meanwhile, had drawn to a halt at the door. He motioned Vokkar aside, tested the handle with the back of a hand and then came to a decision. He kicked out and spun away as, with a heavy whump, a great fireball screamed out through the portal, fed by the air drawn in through the open doorway. Then he was moving again, heading towards the increasingly alarmed cries eminating from the office a room away.

[Desolator12]

Coderre saw the smoke and decided that they needed to get back to the Landroamer as soon as possible. "Never mind it... I'm sure it's being handled by several trained personell... let's get back to the Landrover"

After a somewhat short trip, the two arrived back at the Landroamer
"Hrm... I might be able to fix this here... at least temporarily. Did you sell the extras kit that came with this thing too?"

[Wesforce]

'Its all there.' Coderre said, hugging her daughter as she came flying out of the vehicle. 'Whats wrong, honey?' Coderre said. She'd only just realised that Myun seemed flustered... But Coderre's thoughts were torn between her and the huge explosion that had rocked the town some time ago. If anything the ominous pillar of iridescent green-black smoke had gotten worse.

Coderre shuddered. Thats Deutronium stock going up there... If it gets worse, the whole town could go...

She blinked, she'd just missed everything Myun had told her.

'I'm sorry Honey, say that again?'

'I said some creepy man tried to get in... But luckily he walked away before he got zapped by the electro-hull.'

Coderre went all pale - well, paler than normal - and felt icy cold all over her body, even under her environmentally-regulated military jacket. A deep, gravid feeling of horror manifested at the pit of her stomach. The mere thought of anyone so much as going near her daughter... And she'd been miles away. Should anything have happened...

Up until then Coderre had been thinking about heading back to the town to see if she could help. Not that she'd ever actually admit it, but she cared for the aliens and scumbags that stood to get fried in that town. The scene brought back memories of the aftermath of the Victory at the Deutronium Islands of The Big Zero - Zenophon VII. They'd annihilated the Seperatist Defenders, but not before they'd instigated their scorched Earth policy. Half a million people died in the uncontrollable refinery blazes. She had firefighting experience, and no desire to see the same happen, albeit on a smaller scale.

Damn it.

She sent Myun up to get her and the mechanic some Hot Thraxxian drinking Marmlade, and then went to the odd-job's man.

'Hey, we could get this as far as your place in the town, right?'

'Yes, but-' He began to reply.

'And it'd be much easier to repair there! Okay I'm sold, let's go!' She all but threw the man into the big vehicle and vaulted up the ladder herself. Myun had just come out from the kitchen area with two steaming mugs when Coderre threw the control column forward. Gears crunched and whined, the automatic transmission not quite fast enough to cope with all the power Coderre was pouring on. The front wheels reared up. Coderre was thrown back into her command-chair by acceleration - Raften was thrown to the floor.

Trees and boulders began to disappear under the viewscreen. Coderre swung right to avoid a razor-sharp ridge, then accelerated down hill, wheels thundering.

A hot, sizzling sound.

'Agghhh! My leg!'

'Oops... Sorry, let me wipe that for you.'

'Aggh! AGH! IT BURNS!'

'Uh oh, parts of your suit are coming off... Is this skin?'

'Buckle up, Myun.' Said Coderre. The town was visible now... The smoke seemed to cover a large part of it. The acrid stink of burning Deutronium was detectable, even in here.

'Yes mum.'

Coderre swung around so the Landroamer faced down the main street. Puzzled-looking slummers pointed up at it as it approached, then scattered as Coderre failed to let off any speed.

There came a sound like nuts and bolts dropped into a food processor as the heavy wheels made short work of the front walls of the buildings either side of the main road - It wasn't quite big enough to admit the vehicle. Other road vehicles backed up crazily and did handbrake turns to try and get away. Angry residents shook their fists and shouted, or threw things. Some fired low-powered laser weapons that pinged pathetically of the Enviro-glass(tm)

'Well its either lose a few buildings or your whole damn town I'm afraid.' Coderre muttered. After an even bumpier ride, the Landroamer was close to the heart of the blaze, The Enviro-glass(tm) was black with soot. The life-support regulator struggled to keep the heat under control.

I must be crazy, going into the heart of a blaze like this... Dragging Myun with me.

Coderre unbuckled and got up from the seat.

'What happened to you?' She asked at the prone form of Raften, bandaging his leg. His suit looked terrible.

'Muh... Marmalade. Burns...'

'We'll all be burned in a minute. Myun, get in the freezer.'

'What?'

'Go on honey, do it.' If that things goes up she might stand a chance of survival. 'It'll only be a minute.'

'Oh okay.'

Coderre moved to inventory control. Three-thousand gallons of distilled drinking water, and a half-full reservoir of flame-retardant foam. That would have to do. She selected "Jettison" from the command list.

The bucket-brigades flinging their pathetic loads over the blaze were shocked at the arrival of the impromptu fire-engine, but cheered when it began hosing water and foam onto the outlying buildings - Those directly in the path of the spreading blaze.

But Coderre knew it wasn't going to be enough. The town's firefighters in their hover speeder had already been here a while, and still didn't have the blaze under control.

She checked her equipment locker, and found what she wanted - A Hydraxin Seismic charge - Stable enough that the heat from the blaze wouldn't set it off - Hopefully. Coderre knew from experience the only way to shut off a flaming refinery was to create a vacuum at the source of the Deutronium leak. Well, that was the theory at least.

She climbed down form the vehicle, shouting for whoever was in charge here so she could outline her plan...

[Desolator12]

"...damned...marmalade..." Raften said, as he tore a piece of his sleeve off to make an impromptu bandage for the leg. He looked out the window "Holy ****... the crazy bitch dragged me out here, got her daughter to burn me with hot freakin' marmalade, and left me in here within zero-mark of a Deuterium blaze..." He shakily approached the command console of the vehicle... there was still about a thousand gallons of water left, though the foam had long since been used up... "Hrm... lesse now..." Raften said, as he moved expertly over the console, eventually gaining access to the vehicle's core systems processes. "...If I can up the pressure on the water pump enough, I can at least create a damned path to whatever's burning... hope it doesn't compromise the pump though... I don't feel like creating a pool today."

He got on the comms. **Hey, Lady, Yah gonna need a path to wherever the hell you're going?**

[CKW]

"Screw the buckets, Javenco! It won't suffice!" Cain's voice was heard, right behind her and the gnork chain. He had been following all the way down, flawlessly keeping her pace. His face was somewhat stiff...and expressionless, given the deep trouble they all were. Apparently a water stream followed in calming down the flames, but Cain knew it wasn't enough. Not by any chance. He needed to move quick.
"What do you mean? It's not time for bickering!" She answered, obviously priorizing the hard work of the bucket chain, clenching her teeth, while staring at the flames.

"The CO2 pumps fire system. I know the way, but i need your help." Cain mildly pointed out. If two people pulled the safe valves open, the entire area would be covered in CO2 foam, just like the fire system was intended to do. The base of the flames would be choked and they would eventually wear off. Maybe not in the blast area, as the deflagration might have damaged those, but good enough to create a protective ring, allowing the volunteers to focus their efforts in the towering inferno. "This way, quickly!" He pointed her.

[CKW]

(sorry for the double post, the reply page went funny)

[AI]

"Excuse me, excuse me... Pardon me!"

She said, rather politely, to every alien, scientist and mercenary she pushed past on her way out of the mess hall. She didn't like this, she didn't like it one bit. She didn't like the fact that any of these... These... Things could have the capability to tear her limb from limb and a temper with an extremely short fuse. But the other thing she didn't like was the fact she was forced to touch them - And even the humans of the crowd disgusted her. Covered in sweat, and grime and greese... Some women might find that attractive, but it just repulsed her. This whole place repulsed her, and the thought that she'd soon be out and able to surcure her supply gave her the strength to carry on.

"Dr. Khanis! Wait!" She wailed across the camp, he barely flinched but she kept at it anyway. "You'll need help! You might be too tired to drive back, or need something from the skiff..."

He slowed down just enough for her to catch up, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pushing her along.

"Alright, Luc." He agreed. "But remember, this could get really dangerous - So stay out of trouble, alright?"

* * *

*Ook.*

He groaned from within the depths of slumber, swatting away at the cold metalic hand that prodded at the side of his face.

"Yo, man... Can't a brotha catch a few Z's in the land o' Oz...?"

He said drowsely, rolling over in his chair with the intention to doze off once more. His companion wasn't too keen on the idea, picking up the nearest blunt object to hand and prodding violently at the larger figure in the chair in front of it.

*Ooo-Ooo-OOO-AAAAH-AAAH!

"YO! HENDRIX! Maaan, cut it ooooooSmech me blind, brotha!" Koffee Starbuck, smuggler extraordinaire sat up in his seat, jaw slack with shock. The entire deutronium stock had gone up, and if he didn't do something fast - He'd be toasted marmalade!

So, what does any self respecting man living on the very fringes of the law do in this situation? Run out of his cab and grab a bucket, sacrificing thousands in valuable stock for a noble cause and probably saving a life or two in the process?

"PUNCH IT!"

Does he Hell.

Koffee's robo-simian co-piolet, Hendrix, the only model to be custome fitted with a rather fetching designer hat, hung from a pipe by the tail, pressing various buttons to initiate take-off systems. Meanwhile, Koffee clutched onto the wheel and braced himself, turning his head breifly to examine the stock in the back. Most of it could be passed off as legal, with a little smooth talking and a few creds brandished about. But the Kay's? Not a chance.

"No way we're goin' off planet wit' this sheet..." He muttered to his primate companion. "Still, anywhere's better than here right now, know what ah'm sayin' Hendrix?"

*Ooo-Oo-ah!* He replied, his voice brimming with comradeship.

"Yeah, that's what I'm talkin' about!"

The engines growled to a start, soon turning into a throaty roar. Koffee gritted his teeth, calculating the best route out of here without being seen, or having to fly too close over the near by trees, or even through the flames. Problem was... There wasn't one...

[Wesforce]

Coderre clicked her communicator on. It was so hot her face was already streaming with sweat. She could have been baking alive inside her jacket, but if she took it off the swirling burning embers would singe her to oblivion. She pulled up her flash-hood to save her and took cover by the bulk of the Landroamer.

**Standby, Raften. See if you can get the attention of those hover skiffs... It'll take more than the Landrover to clear a path through to the source of this.**

'Dammit, who's in charge here?' She asked of one of the Gnorks. He shrugged and pointed up at one of the Hover-skiffs.

[VO]

Cain ducked into the inferno, shielding his face with his arms. The whole place was on fire - and what wasn't on fire was boiling to the touch, but he'd been in worse places before.

Pratob 7 was one of them. Cain's team had been trailing a pirate warlord for months, having finally got onto his ship and were ready to assassinate him - when a rival fleet appeared and started bombarding the flagship with naplalm bombs. That hadn't been nice at all, but Cain had got with little more than singed eyeballs. The same hadn't been true for Warlord Loras, though; he'd cooked like the Huban Pigkins he'd been so fond of eating on the command deck of the vessel.

"Gotta find the CO2 switch," he muttered to himself, stepping through a burning doorframe to a room which was remarkably clear of smoke. He had no idea if Javenco was following him, but knew he had to do something fast. Why hadn't they come on automatically? Maybe it was due to the same fault that had locked him out of his house.

In the bay he passed a green-skinned alien in a cloak was wrestling to disconnect the fuel lines from his vessel. Flames licked at the landing struts from a spill of something else flammable. Grud knew why the deutronium in the pump hadn't gone up with the rest of the station.

***

Meyvoru found herself on the edge of the blaze. She couldn't go in without slagging her suit to zork. Infront of her smoke billowed and secondary fuel tanks showered the area with shrapnel. Fire skimmers struggled to control the blaze.

"Hey!" A blue-haired woman was yelling at the firebeings on the skiffs, but over the sound of the blaze she couldn't be heard. Meyvoru thought it likely she'd descended from the massive all terrain vehicle that had arrived - although the swathe of destruction it had left had probably outstripped the fire so far. Meyvoru took a few steps back as a flaming tire crashed into a spot only metres infront of her, sending her bumping into the woman.

"What the?" Meyvoru apologised, and noticed what the human was holding. A seismic charge, she thought.

[Wesforce]

'Hey, keep calm' Coderre told the... Green humanoid blob in a suit.

'Oh my funt...'

She hadn't seen anything like this since... Since... When was it? The time the insurrectionists had hijacked the pleasure barge that had the misfortune of detouring through the system and used its occupants as shields? Grudd, that had been bloody. Well slimy... As in everywhere... In her hair, down the insides of her armour...

She got over her initial surprise with a start: This creature was wearing an environment suit: She wasn't sure how well it would last in this heat, and if it ruptured... More slime everywhere.

Coderre didn't really care that much: Bloody aliens didn't matter to her particularly but, well... She was here to try and save lives.

**Raften, a bit of water here, if you wouldn't mind**

**Got it Lady**

Water sluiced down, washing down a stretch of flames, at least temporarily. It splashed, pattering the two like rain, Great clouds of steam rose, curling away, flash-boiled. It did nothing to alleviate the heat, and only made Coderre damp and sweatier.

'That should give you a chance to get to safety!' Coderre yelled, unsure if the creature could even understand her. 'Please run' She made little running motions with her fingers, 'And tell them' She pointed up at the skimmers 'My radio frequency.' She showed Meyvoru her radio, and made little hand motions that were supposed to resemble wibbly radio waves: The frequency was displayed on the unit in bold LED numbers. 'I have to-' She made a little "explosion" with her hands, indicating the Seismic Charge, and pointed off to the direction of the fire.

'Got that?' She asked, exasperated. Of course, the damn alien probably hadn't understood a word she said...

[SW Freak]

Javenco was rushing into the fire as well, but with a different purpose in mind.

"Where are you, you blue-skinned Bretnian bug-buggerer?!"

She spun as a hand tapped her shoulder, hands raised to fend off whoever it was that had snuck up on her. It turned out to be Alanara, who pointed towards the office, where shouts for help and the occasional rattle of the door could be heard. Javenco nodded and the two of them hurried towards the door. Kicking together, they managed to fell the door, ripping the bolt from the wood around the lock.

"Move it, mister!"

Whoever it was sprinted out, pushing the two mercenaries out of the way, knocking them off balance. A hasty grab at the doorframe was the only thing that stopped Alanara from plummeting into a bush of flame. He hauled himself upright, looked up at a grinding sound and then grabbed the lapels of Javenco's coat and hauled the two of them out of the way. A huge girder crashed down right where they had been standing, barring the doorway. Javenco swore. In saving them, Alanara had pushed them both into the office, and now they were trapped in the same way that zarking Simowaynian crevice monkey had been. Where was Al, anyway?

She looked down and gave a small gasp; the Sishvana's right leg was pinned beneath a lump of burning metal. He grinned weakly up at her and covered his eyes. *Sorry*

"Don't be, you bloody idiot. We had to go somewhere, and this office was much more secure than anywhere else." She knelt beside her friend and tried in vain to shift some of the metal. "It's okay; Cain will activate the foam pumps, they'll come in, lift the girders and we can dip into the emergency fund for the biomech surgery for you leg. It'll be okay." She sounded hysterically cheerful.

*We both know that we'll probably suffocate if that foam gets in here. I'm sorry I tried to be a hero. You can probably still get out. I'd say you could fit through the gap between the roof and the rubble.

"No. It's okay in here. Besides, it's too hot out there." She laughed nervously.

There was a second groaning, this one louder. The two of them looked up at the roof. It didn't look good. It continued to groan and scream for quite some time, but nothing happened.

"Well...it looks like we're safe."

At which point the roof collapsed.

Javenco gave a cry and leaned on Alanara. She told herself later that it was to protect her already injured companion, but in truth she felt safer with him closer. Not safe enough to ignore a couple of tons of falling metal, however. She buried her head in Al's chest as he squeezed his eyes closed and wrapped the top pair of arms around her, not wishing to see his fate. Thus, he missed the way the great lumps of metal, the smallest one bigger than his head, bounced off an invisible field a few feet from them. He only opened his eyes again when all was quiet again, save the roar of the fire. He was aware of Javenco against him and gave her a gentle shake. When she didn't look up he pushed her a little harder, slightly worried. There didn't appear to be any blood, and it didn't look like she had been hit, but she seemed to be out like a light. The two of them lay there, he trying to wake her up, while the blood pouring from her nose stained his chest.

Meanwhile, every psionic in the crowd was suddenly aware of thoughts that weren't there own; though thoughts was too grandoise a term for them. They were more feelings and words.

Death. Fear. Falling. Fire. Metal. Alanara. Fear. Alanara. Death. Protect. Don't hurt. Alanara...

[Desolator12]

"Oh ****" Raftenor said, as the roof on the building began to collapse. He had done what he could... the water had made a path... and the pressure needed had drained half of the entire reserve of water...

"Uhm...Lady? Just to let you know, there is only enough left for one more shot like that... at which point, well..." He paused... and shook his head, not wanting to think. "Whatever you're gonna do, do it fast. Because if that fire gets rid of that path, and I have to fire again, there won't be a way out of there"

[VO]

Zod it, thought Vokkar. I don't have enough time

Fire had engulfed one end of the hangar bay, sending licks of flame up the vacuum-proof paint on the Pilgrim's hull. As the green alien struggled to disconnect the myriad of fuel lines that lead to the ship, he felt the opressive heat of the blaze play across his skin. There's no point doing this - I'll just fire up the engines and let the lines snap. He pushed away the fuel boom and ran up the ramp into the spacecraft's hull, overriding the airlock which kept his ammonium atmosphere inside. Being uncomfortable is less important than risking the ship any more. . Inside, a corridor ran around the large cargo area in the centre of the vessel. Most of the crew compartments had been knocked away to give more space for transport, their doorways simply opening out into the now-empty centre bay. The cockpit was on the other side of the vessel, facing away from the fire, but on this side was the vulnerable hyperdrive engines. The deutronium fuel tanks were located on the port side, hanging out ungainly but far enough away from the deck guns that they were safe from friendly fire.

Vokkar seated himself in his pilot's chair and began to commence the familiar ritual to prep for takeoff. He ignored every one of the regular checks he could, knowing that every second counts. Normally he'd have to ask for air clearance to depart, but for all he knew, the traffic control was blazing away just as badly as everything else. As he booted up the computer, a flaming service bot barelled past, multiple arms spinning and spitting fire.

Time to go. This was the most dangerous part - using the launch thrusters was essential for takeoff but would only fan the flames. Gingerly, he set them onto low power, then activated the switch, being rewarded by their hum and a light cloud of dust as the Pilgrim bobbed upwards towards the open sky before it was jerked to a halt.

Frag, the fuel arm. Vokkar activated the deck gun's targetting camera and spotted the boom, still connected to the ground, with pipelines running up to the hull. This thing is stronger than I thought. He risked raising the thrusters a fraction, but the lines still held. Looks like it's the guns then

Vokkar set the computer to take them towards open sky, then hurried down the corridor to the gunnery nest. The ship was tilted awkwardly as it struggled to take off but was held back by the errant fuel lines. Hidden in the heart of the vessel, this controlled both sets of weapons onto and below the vehicle without being anywhere near them. He set the controls to the belly guns, then pushed the targetting onto manual. A view of the offending arm filled the screen, flames licking at it's base.

The moment those eat into the fuel lines, I'm toast he thought. The fire will run straight up them into the pilgrim's tanks. He thumbed the lever for the lasers onto 'continuous' and took aim, at the edge of the beam. He'd have to sever it through to cut the Pilgrim away from it's tether.

[Wesforce]

Death. Fear. Falling. Fire. Metal. Alanara. Fear. Alanara. Death. Protect. Don't hurt. Alanara...

Myun rolled about in a whimpering ball on the floor of the Land roamer, clutching her head, sobbing uncontrollably. Raften stopped what he was doing, paralysed by the sheer distress coming from the little girl... The sounds she was making didn't sound like they should come from a human. He felt the immense sadness irradiatimg from her, and not a little fear.

***

The Nigashari Alien was still around - somewhere. It had vanished from Coderre's field of view, but she knew it was still hanging around. Nonetheless, frantic frequency-hopping had managed to get her in touch with the hovering fire engines.

++KKKZZZZZSSSS 'Allo, allo... Was is los?KKKSSSS++

'No time to explain.' Coderre yelled. She didn't know what language the firefighters were speaking. She hoped they would understand her Standard UNISpeak. 'You need someone on the ground directing your actions, and I'm the bitch on the switch!'

++KKKZZZZ 'Allo, allo? Zis thing on?'KKKZZZ++

'SHUT UP' Coderre informed the firefighters. She'd just seen the building collapse... A building with people in it. She'd seen them earlier, and not seen them all come out. So, they got priority over her task. 'Listen to me. Direct your spray twenty-three metres left and three metres in. TWENTY-THREE METRES LEFT AND THREE METRES IN, GOT THAT?'

++BZZZKKSHHH 'Allo, was ist los? Ich habe keine zeitung um-'BZZZZ++

However, someone on board the nearest skimmer must have been paying attention because the streams were directed as she asked, over the collapsed building. The flames were washed down and gave rise to swirling steam, but it was enough. Without hesitation, Coderre ran for the ruined building over scorch-blackened ground that crunched underfoot - Sand had been fused to a muddy brown glass.

When she got there she felt a bit foolish as to what she might actually be able to do. She had some great heat-resistant gauntlets, but upon seeing the massive blocks of masonry knew she wouldn't be able to move them.

Smoke swirled, parted, afforded her a field of view. Her left eyebrow quirked upwards.

Two figures - one male, one female - lay unconscious in a comforting embrace. In what must have been extremely good luck, all the rubble had - save, curiously one metal spar laying on the male's leg - fallen in a radius around them, not on top. If it had there'd be nothing but a red paste to show for them.

Coderre ran in, looked the two over quickly.The male's leg was grievously injured. Thinking practically, she resolved that at least one of them would have to be saved. She dragged the woman up and into a fireman's lift, and ran back through the path Raften had cleared earlier. The Nigashari was still there, standing around dumbstruck.

'Here. HERE! Take her to the aid station!' She told it. 'Assuming there is an aid station. Oh whats the use!'

Coderre's radio crackled again.

++KKZZZHH 'Allo, allo, emergencie! Ve have no direction! Flytrap, distress!++

Coderre started shouting at the incomprehensible firefighter, and vanished back into the flames.

[VO]

There

In the bowels of the station, Cain crawled under a massive fallen girder towards the manual CO2 supressor control. What idiot designed this station? It's like I'm in a fragging sim-game. Ahead of him a gaping chasm had ripped open a tank buried below the floor, venting green gas into the room. It was too far to jump across, so instead he heaved the girder so that it hung halfway out over the gap. Careful to test the support, the supersoldier held his breath edged out onto it, and jumped the last metre onto the unstable ground on the other side. The fumes had picked at his flesh, already he could feel blisters and welts beneath his skin. He'd lost the others way back, it was just him here now, slipping through the flames in the charred remains of his black shirt and combats.

The metallic floor was hot enough here that he was leaving rubber footprints from his boots, but the CO2 control was in sight. Cain ducked through a section of room where the celing sagged dangerously, and slipped into the alcove. Some of the monitor lights still functioned, but most were a dull grey, their sensors incinerated. Cain swished a cursory glance across them and smashed the glass panel before jerking the lever down....

...and something lurched in the ceiling. Cain glanced up, saw the bulge growing, the structure leaning into itself... before it collapsed in a shuddering of girders and falling plasteel and burning, searing pain....

***

Fire.

Sorenial Alsen Marduq could see the fire from the crowd. It was barely being contained, but the slow spread was arrested and currently being spent consuming a couple of large habitation blocks. Residents huddled together, watching it burn. Logically SAM should help, but the huge number of humans and aliens working to defend the city meant that there was little he could do. Several Zalgar, like the pimp he'd killed, had comandeered a skiff and were using a hunting cannon designed for taking down large game to collapse outhouses ahead of the flames. The massive Land Roamer that he had followed stood, motionless. Perhaps he could go and see if he could help with that.

Ships were trying to escape from the burning docks. One exploded during takeoff, the dull boom nowhere as loud as the one that had drawn the town here but still enough to shower them with debris. People screamed, paniced, any many did not notice the second ship, a battered Ret-tech frieghter, break free and rocket up into the atmosphere. The crowd surged and pushed, scattering away from where the searing metal had landed like ripples in a puddle during the rainy season. SAM noticed one was spreading around him, and, glancing down, saw the mewling ichanza fledgeling, one arm almost severed by the fallen scrapnel.

[AI]

"Take the wheel!" Khanis said to her. "And remember, stay inside the Skiff!"

"Wuh-What if you don't come back?" Lucreize asked, her voice shrill.

"I've tackled domestic fires hotter than this baby!" He winked.

With that, he lept out of the still moving Skiff, causing her heart to skip a beat. As enarmoured was she by his bravery in the face of overwhelming odds, and his reckless abadon when it came to his personal safety when others lives were at risk, she almost failed to notice that the Skiff was on a collision course with the back of a rather large vehicle.

She grasped out at the controls of the skiff, leaning across the drivers seat to gain some sembelance of control. She threw it into a tight U-turn, the right side of it dragging against the ground as the hover-pads struggled to keep it balenced. She avoided the back of the oncoming goliath by barely a hairs bredth, the heat of the flames flushing her face as sweat rolled down her cheeks.

She sped away from the scene, pulling up in a carpark at what she assumed was a safe distance. Fire fighting wasn't for her, she'd only get in the way. What use could she be, after all? Standing there and throwing buckets of water on a fire of that scale was illogical to her mind, and did nothing but waste energy. She just hoped that her supplier hadn't got caught up in it... He was a disgusting little man, but he was still the only person in this city skilled enough to evade the local law enforcement (or what was left of it) and supply her.

She turned off the Skiff's engines, shifted into the drivers side and waited for Khanis.

[CKW]

Pain. Searing pain. But it was secondary. He needed to get, out. He needed to pull it. He'd been on worse before. Cain's eyes opened wide, and clenching all of his muscles, he heaved the pile of rubble mightly, gritting his teeth to the feeling of burnt skin.

"Grryyyargh!" And he sprouted out from the debris mound, in a shower of rubble.He wasted little time in getting his lower body out, of the mess, and stumbling outside, the skin of his arm pulsating in searing pain. The CO2 pumps were working. Now the difficult part... get out of that hell, alive.

He coughed, time and oxygen were running out. He memorized his way in through the maze-like corridors on fire... It was a good time to put into practice his SIM-Pacdude (R) skills, he thought, amused. He started trodding forwards, reverse-travelling with his mind the way in...

[Wesforce]

Heat. Blasing heat, like the sizzling beams of energyguns were firing on max power just in front of her. Coderre's jacket had been soaked by the sprays from the fire-skiffs, and now the water rose off her like steam. Her skin was pruning from its own moisture and every breath, even with the rebreather that undoubtedly saved her life, felt like it came courtesy of an oven. The ground seemed hot and sticky, and she realised that was because her boots were melting.

Yet, something had changed. Great clouds of gas rose from certain points all around, plumes that rose and mixed with the smoke frim the giant fireball and all the hundreds of secondary fires where anything flammable in the vicinity had gone up: Fuel, vehicles, the paint on the side of metal buildings - Metal that now glowed white hot, like branding torches plunged into the soil.

The soil... In places it crunched underfoot, a brownish glass, where superheated drops of igniting Deutronium had burst and scattered.

Somewhere behind her she'd aquired a suitable length of frag-board: sturdy yet cheap construction material known for its ceramic properties. It had been a convenience, but now it was the only thing that let Coderre go any further to the heart of the blaze, one agonising step at a time. Lift boatd, stagger forward, plant board, take a breath while sheltering from the heat. Repeat ad nauseum.

Glowing spots obscured her view when she glanced around the board for a llok at where she was going: The heart of the inferno was here, blazing white, topped with black as the rising smoke turned night into day. Sweat rolled around inside her rebreather's goggles, having pooled at the bottom. She had to swing her head to get a look at the digital readout on the Seizmic charge. After a few attempts she programmed in a time.

'Well, here goes' nothing.'

With the last of her strength she lobbed the charge, right at the gushing fountain of Deutronium that fed the still-burning fire, and immediately dicked behind the board with her fingers in her ears and her mouth open, ready for the blast. Or so she thought.

WHUUUUUUUMP!

The frag-board splintered like a house made of matches as the blast wave rolled over her and threw her like a ragdoll, kicking up sparks from the scorched ground. Then the sound repeated in reverse as all the air was sucked from her lungs and a huge tidal wave of air rushed in to fill the colossal vacuum generated by the bomb - The vacuum that had finally smothered the flames.

The fire had gone out. Unlit Deurtonium fountained into the sky, with nothing to set fire to it, and with the CO2 in the air, nothing for it to burn with. Safe in that knowledge, Coderre let fatigue take her.