Valerie arms herself lightly and simply with a handgun - more of a sidearm than anything else. She buckles it to her hip and spends a few moments in front of the mirror adjusting the sit of her jacket over it. She briefly considers sweet-talking one of the guys into lending her a coat, but decides against it. She was already borrowing the shirt and the gun; that would do for now.
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That is remarkably specific," Anton says to Noreen. "I admit that as code-words for identifying a fellow skulduggerous party, that do' climb a mighty high summit. Alas, seeing as how our all-high-ly orders that come from the Captain-my-Captain his'self hath designated me as the official first-drinks getter, I am removed from being available for all karaoke-related duties. Hey, it's his orders and I don' talk back t' him.
Fortunately, Noreen, your singin' voice is spoken of far and wide all over those who are within a 3-meter radius of the showers on Sunday mornings, so we'd be all manner of honored were you to take this budernsome upon yourself and do the deed.
But soft! The song for the singing 'tis a duet, and you must needs be accompanied by a brother in arms. Or sister, times being what they are. Val, sweet Val, please do watch Noreen well-toned an' fanciful rear as her co-pilot-singer in this dangerous duty.
No no! I must be off on the drink-gathering mission! All speed needed her lest the purveyor run empty of drink! Think not of my safety, but carry out thy duty...for the queen!"
Anton chuckles and goes to get the first round. He knows what everyone likes. And by "knows what everyone likes" he means "everyone is getting a spiced ale unless they same otherwise."
"I'm going to kill him," Valerie mutters to Noreen, glowering after Anton's retreating back. "I'm going to strangle him with his own tight pants. You can be my second-in-command when I shove his body out the airlock and take over the ship."
Glancing toward the stage, she sighs, shaking her head. "Let's get this over with. At least I won't be embarassing myself quite as much as you, being your back-up."
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:
"Gentlemen, gentlemen," says the Captian, his #4 smile sitting easily on his face. "This 'ere is a state-of-the-art bio-degradable gear-assisted matrix-enhancing nano-extractinurerbrator! My company, Ares Macrotechnology, is testing it for widespread dissemination among the greater Mega-Seattle Arcology! I'm meeting a very important man, Mr. Johnson, to field-demonstrate it's applied re-calibration for leet deckers! For you to mistake this as some, mere, vulgar, weapon, is inconceivable! Sir, if you continue in this endeavor I'll need to ask for your name and badge number!"
"Wouldn't want to keep Mr. Johnson waiting, would you?" Valerie puts in, jumping on Anton's phony explanation. "Very important man and all; why, if you keep us held up here much longer, he's likely to be very put out and, well, we'd have to tell him all about the fools who wouldn't let us in with what he wants!"
"Alright, alright. No reason to get snippy," the guard says as he let's Sirus through.
The man in question looks up and nods at Noreen and Val when they begin to sing. The performance was average, but most of the people populating the bar didn't care. There were two lovely ladies on stage, and that was an opportunity not to be wasted.
"Another! Sing another!"
"C'mon luvs, sing another song."
"'Ey, don't they look like dem goils wot be in dat an-nu-mu show?"
"Yeah, dey's look like dem. Doesn't Tritium Tim have some outfits like dat?"
Before the spectacle:
Sirus sighs in relief when he's waves through. Once out of ear shot, of course, he says, Thanks guys. I would have had to make something on the fly without you.
[dice=Rapport]4d3-8+3
"Sorry, boys, got things to see, people to do, you know how it is," Valerie chuckles, her biggest fake smile plastered across her face. She tries to drag Noreen from the stage, but when the other woman puts her foot in it, her opportunistic tendencies kick in, and her grin turns all too real.
"She actually does look like Ori, doesn't she? Uncanny resemblance! Hey, why don't you go see if Tim has that costume; I'm sure she'll sing again all dolled up. As for me, though, I really must be going..."
When she slips back to the table where the others are seated, she's smirking, all but rubbing her hands in anticipation.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Sirus takes his mug and silently wonders who Ori is. Then he goes back to re-wiring the stage lights in his head. If he could get ahold of a set of crystal wine glasses he's pretty sure he could make those lights bright enough to set fire to that offensively gaudy outfit in the front row.
Tavid takes the ale from Captain Anton with a smile and bob of his head as a sign of gratitude. ”This will be my last,” he says leaning closer. ”Ouskaaaa!” He raises his mug to Anton.
Glancing around the crowd, appreciating the applause the patrons give, while scanning for people who may be their contact, he wonders about the person who would choose that song. A sense of humor maybe? A person charmed by centuries old music? Little chance of anyone else choosing that song. Practical?
A man matching Noreen's description joins the crew shortly after a beaming Valerie sits down.
"Howdy lady and gents. I assume you're here for the Zuckerman shipment," he asks he joins you, and pays for the next round of drinks.
You are quickly lead into a dressing room, with Valerie nowhere in sight, and surrounded by big burly men, the smallest of which could be a Blood Bowl linebacker. The door shuts behind you, cutting off the din from the bar and leaving you alone with a man that looks like Sirus, if the engineer was twice as tall and thrice as wide as he is now, and another that has a look that screams black ops to you.
"Hello, sweetheart," the man that looks like Sirus supersized says with a warm friendly smile, "The name's Jericho, and this is Tritium Tim."
Tritium Tim gives a bow and pulls out a rack full of outrageous outfits.
"Now, deary, what version of Ori would you like to look like, hmm?"
Poking around the common room, you find a small stash of self-help books with bland uninteresting names and the words "Property of Valerie Hills" on the edge of the pages. The fact that they are honest to space paper and ink books manages to grab your attention long enough to look inside, and find that these books are not what their covers imply, and are instead racy, very very racy, romance novels.
Valerie takes a moment to consider the fate she's abandoned Noreen to. Only a moment, though. She'll be fine, she tells herself, taking a swig of her drink.
When the contact sits down, she nods at him over her mug. "That'd be us, Mr...?"
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OF course, he's not totally against her actually doing, but 1) she needs to want to, and 2) possibly get paid for it. ;-)
Okay, and I'm sorry for reading the spoiler. I like the stories but I don't use the knowledge in-character. But some burly brute sweeping Noreen off the stage would be seen by us who were watching her.
What anton said. :)
Fair enough points, Anton. Though I do have my reasons for not giving you a chance.
The worst that will happen is that she winds up in an embarrassing situation that draws a lot of attention. Besides, there are some things I won't do in even my darkest games. Rape is up there at the top. That said, I'm indulging my silly side in this game, and Noreen has nothing to fear from any of the patrons, despite how imposing they are.
She does have to worry about skimpy outfits and potential wardrobe malfuntions, but that's true of all of you.
Anyway, Look at it as Noreen's turn in the spotlight. How things go is up to her. Jericho and Tim are there to make her into a living breathing version of Ori, not forcibly deflower her or anything.
And don't worry, if it's going to be something that could have an impact on the party, I'll give you a chance to rewrite the story. I just got carried away a bit is all.
"Call me Puck," the man says with an impish grin, "before we get started, I was told that there'd be two more. Where are they?"
"Ah well, it's not that important. I'm just curious is all," he says as he grabs Valerie's drink and takes a sip.
"Oh, the Bodacious Space Pirate look. Ah yes, that's a classic," Tritium Tim says as he pulls it from the rack, "It'll need to be adjusted, though. Please step this way, hon."
The lanky man leads you to the back corner of the crowded room and to a rather ominous looking contraption with the label Altertron Sal 9000 in a flowery, flowing script. Looking back, you can see Jericho setting up at the vanity with enough high-end make-up and cosmetics to stock three beauty stores.
"Please," Tim says as a larger circular chamber opens up in the Altertron Sal 9000, "step inside and strip to your undies. There's a compartment for your clothes that should open up. once the hatch closes."
The hatch is fully open and though the outside looks threatening, the inside seems nice enough.
Aurora, as you are sifting through Valerie's collection of bodice rippers that she left in the common room, you hear a muffled thump coming from somewhere in the ship.
Still, an opportunity to learn is an opportunity to learn. All the books on courtship she’s read have been very clinical and analytical, whereas these are more....what’s the right word? Descriptive? Probably not. She happily jots down a note to look up possible word choices later. Dictionaries are fun! But these books are fun too.
Aurora pulls out her trusty work tablet and taps in the commands to bring up her recording software. She dictates notes as she browses through the books.
”Book describes bosoms as ‘heaving’. Confusing term; standard definition of ‘heaving’ implies either raising something or throwing something. Chests rise automatically with breathing; why describe an automatic movement. Other definitions include ‘throwing’, but I don’t think they mean chests are throwing something. Either incorrect usage or I am missing proper definition; look into this later”
”Recurring themes include subjects who don’t get along, or have betrayed each other, or have not seen each other in many years falling in love. I find these to be strange courtship rituals. Does not bode well for own romantic future; have no prospects I haven’t seen in years, nobody I don’t get along with and refuse idea of romance with betrayers. Idea: find ideal test subject, pick a fight, record findings”
”Including list of multiple new names for body parts. Will upload them into ship’s computer; specifically into the medical bay’s terminals for Dax’s use.”
”Act described here does not seem physically possible. Must ask Valerie how you accomplish-” Aurora snaps her mouth shut, all her focus on she just heard. It’s her job to guard the ship, so it’s time to investigate
As you move quietly through the ship, you find two things, The first is that someone didn't put a grate to the air ducts back exactly right, and the second is that there's a shoe wedged in the hatch leading to the cargo bay.
Is there a foot in the shoe or just a shoe? Can I pull the shoe out of the hatch?
"Well, Puck-" Valerie begins, before cutting off her words and staring as the man takes her drink. After a moment, she decides to let it go, though doesn't touch the drink again. "One of our number ended up under the table last night, and as such couldn't be with us today, and the other seems to have been swept away on a tide of adoring fans. Rest assured, we can handle business without them."
Puck nurses a brew, Tavid's to be exact, and nods sagely.
"Well then, let's get down to business. We have six sealed containers filled with Garaxian ghost chilies ready to be loaded onto your ship, we also have about two dozen sealed containers of various spices and herbs of similar mass. It should keep the customs back in Hoffelheim from getting suspicious given that Garaxian spices are rather pungent. We also have another six dozen containers with various foodstuffs that Mr. Z has ordered. I'm tellin' ya, the man is in love with Garaxian cuisine." Puck says in between sips of Tavid's beer, "I'm afraid that we're not ready to load everything just yet, though. Something's gotten GalSec in a tizzy and they're demanding that every container be checked, and that's delayed the last two dozen of the normal containers, not to mention having my employers ready to crack their heads."
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His mouth still hanging open in a vain attempt to shout something at Noreen, Anton eventually settles back down and returns to his drink. Seems a nice enough place, no need t' worry' he thinks. It's not like this is the The Body Shop on Persii VIII. Whooo, must keep that in mind.'
Anton throws back the last of his ale, and reaches for the fresh glass that Puck has so kindly ordered up. After ensuring that his whistle is business-class wetted, he takes up chase.
"Do ya got any notion of what this 'something' might be what got a burr on GalSec's bunion? I like things t'go smooth; Move the shipment, get paid. Things go haywire on a job such as this, tends to make things go so not-smooth, might could wonder if'n there's a connection. There any illumination you could shed in that direction?"
Anton scratches his head. "Truth is, if'n the delay be overly-long, a man could think priorities, if this stuff is as mundane as you say. How long a delay we lookin' at? Enough t'think about shipping without it?"
Anton hated to let down an employer, but the job was the chilies. If the covering fluff actually put the real cargo in danger, time to haul atmo and take the normal chances in the air.
As Anton reaches for the glass, he finds it in Puck's hand already.
"Not a clue, but it'll only be a day, day and a half at most. Everything's in a semi-stasis field, so even if it took another six months, everything should be fine," He says before taking a swig and putting the drink down.
"So, the short version is, no, not that long," he adds before picking up the menu, "now that that's done, who's hungry?"
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Anton nods and takes a swig of Sirus' drink, careful to put it back far away from Puck's "busy" hands and writing off his own glass as a lost cause. What in the ungrateful black is it with a man what can't finish his own drink?' "Ah, well. Just a day then. What could go wrong?"
Anton picks up his menu. "What with us bein' such good friends an' you puttin' us up on account the untimely delay, it'd be an insult not to let you buy me a steak."
"You didn't say what's got GalSec in a tizzy," Valerie points out, barely touching the menu. "Don't suppose that's information you'd be privy to, Puck?" When Anton asks What could go wrong? she's tempted to remind him of the last job, but thinks better of it for now. Best allow the contact to think of them as highly-skilled professionals.
'Intruder on board, neutralization attempt in progress, notifying you per your rules on telling you Important Things right away. Note: I would like to renegotiate the definition of ‘Important Things’ at a later date because your list of ‘Things that are not Important Things’ seems too expansive.
Will notify you when intruder has been apprehended.
XOXYZ - Aurora
Aurora looks from the shoe to the air ductDid they come from the air duct into the cargo bay or the other way around? What do we have on board that’s valuable….no that’s impossible to quantify, things hold different value to different people. Either way, elevated risk of hazard. Conclusion, go acquire a firearm. My aim’s gotten a lot better too!
Dr Newgen tries to recall what he knows from that one contract he worked before he started smuggling.
Tavid smirks and shakes his head in good humor as Puck takes his drink. So that’s the type of person he is. Not worth making a major issue out of it. Don’t want to sour the transport job. A couple credits versus thousands...
”Do you want another?” he asks Puck, signaling a server. He picks up an menu and glances at the offerings.
”That’s a good question Valerie. What has roused the activity of GalSec? Are they looking for anything specific?”
Looking at the menu still, he asks Puck, ”Anything you recommend? Any Garaxian cuisine that tourists should try?”
You remember that GalSec likes to play things close to the vest, and prefers to take care of things quietly. If they are being this open about it, whatever has them in a tizzy is pretty huge.
Beyond that, you do know that they are involved in several black projects that are semi-legal or illegal, including a few conditioning programs, one of which was the project you were involved in. From the sounds of it, it's likely an illegal project that they can't plausibly deny that is causing them to raise a ruckus.
Puck is about to answer Valerie, when Tavid asks him if he wants another. Looking down at his glass, and seeing it was Tavid's, he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.
"Great I'm doing it again," he mutters before ordering everyone fresh drinks.
"I don't know, no one does really. All we know is it's enough to make their higher ups here nervous, and that has everyone keeping their heads down. Nervous GalSec management means trigger-happy GalSec management. As for the food, I'd recommend the Fire-Honey chicken with sauteed veggies and rice or the Cracked Pepper Crab Loaf. Both are really good and not too much for those not used to Garaxian spices," he says.
As you make your way to the armory after calling the captain, you hear the clatter of metal on deck and a thump coming from the galley. Listening closely, you can hear someone, a kid or young woman from the voice, muttering.
"Ow, that hurt. It didn't look like that far of a fall."
A moment later, a holographic image appears before you of a simplified human form with the arms raised out and the feet together.
"Please assume the stance shown," a pleasant, if artificial, feminine voice says.
A moment after you have taken the stance there is a ding and the voice speaks up once more. "Preliminary measurements have been taken. Please select an option from the following: Spunky, Fashionista, Homemaker, or Random."
You see a young woman with long hair and the mate to the shoe you found in the hatch to the cargo bay rooting around in the fridge. She's dressed in a white and blue trimmed jumpsuit. You can also see the grate to the air duct lying on the floor. The girl doesn't look all that tough, so you rush in.
"EEEEK!"
You tackle the intruder and the two of you tumble to the floor. The girl begins to squirm and writhe in your grip, pushing on your face and pulling on your hands to get loose.
"Confirmed. Now loading the Fashionista Personality Files. Please wait while I go fetch Cruella," the voice says.
A few moments pass before another hologram appears. It's of a stick-thin, middle-aged woman, all sharp angles and hard edges, wearing a stylish pair of slacks and a turtleneck with the shoulders cut out that is all the rage among the trendy these days. She has a tailor's tape measure hanging around her neck and is tapping her teeth with one of those fancy vapor e-cigs that looks like a real cigarette in a cigarette holder. Her hair is cut short and feathered-out in a manner that only accentuates the harsh angularity of her features.
"Oh," she says in a drolling accent, "dahling, I'm afraid you're not giving me much to work with." A holographic manikin with the space pirate outfit appears beside the holographic tailor. "you don't have much in the way of a bosom," she says gesturing at your chest as she begins to circle you, "and, ugh, those hips! I don't know if there's enough slack and I may have to request more material to adjust the skirt. Then there's your taste in undergarments."
The hologram comes back into view, tsking sadly as she shakes her head.
"This is a challenge to be sure, but even I have my limits."
”Unauthorized intruder! What are-hey-stop grabbing my-” Aurora tries to keep her grip on the mystery woman
”The Cracked Pepper Crab Loaf sounds good,” Tavid says, closing his menu. ”Thanks for the advice. And thanks for the drink.” He motions towards the stage with his head. ”So why’d you choose such an old song? Are you a fan of 22nd century music in general? I’m just curious. Not a big deal if you don’t want to talk about it. ”