++BD514? This is Castrovel air traffic control. You're now clear to land, please follow the flight plan being sent now to your berth at Qabarat. And mind the weather, local sensors indicate heavy rain and some wind. ATC out.++
A week ago, the crew of EJ Corp's BD514 was enjoying the climate controlled environment of Absalom Station and taking advantage of nearly a full day off after bringing back a sizeable load of silk from Vesk space. Then Tarika reached out with a new job for the contracted crew. Handing everyone a sample of a large, deep purple berry, the Brenneri advised everyone to give them a try. "Seems they're pretty common on Castrovel, but beloved on Akiton. Locals call 'em Yaro Berries, 'cause y'know, they grow a long the Yaro river. We have a seller lined up ready to deliver us fifty tons of those tangy suckers."
Perishable items always make EJ Corp delivery associates a little nervous. They could go bad before they arrive, and even if the cargo arrives fresh, things can get knocked around on even the most smooth trips. Bruised fruit is going to bring in less profit than the company is expecting, and they might take it out on their delivery crew. And the crew's paycheck.
Ace is ... minuscule, to put it lightly. Even for a vulkarisu. The pilot of the BD514 stands at around 2'9". Were he not clad in armor and stowing a weapon and a shield on his back, he'd probably pass pretty reliably for a squox. "Alright, we're comin' in, ATC. I'll do my best to follow the flight plan. Can't promise jack with this weather though," he says.
The pilot then opens the ship-wide comms, since he's the pilot and he needs to... well, pilot. He begins talking. "So, Yaro berries on Castrovel to be shipped to Akiton, huh? Those things spoil pretty quick if I remember. Put your trust in me though," he boasts, "I can get you there pretty fast! But I'll have to slow myself down to avoid the bruisin'. Bruised Yaro berries are kinda... not worth it. Trust me. "
Xevras, presently sprawled out in the currently-empty cargo bay--the only place he can comfortably stretch out without bumping anything--scowls at his datapad. Were anyone looking at him, this scowl would probably be rather frightening, a downturn of the lips on a predatory head, at the end of a long neck that could be over 13' in the air if he were standing. He doesn't like this job. Too much can go wrong, they're not really set up well for transporting perishables... but of course they don't get any kind of say in what they haul.
And then there's the weather... he looks up the forecast for Qabarat and huffs an angry sigh. He keys his comm to the ship-wide channel.
"I'll strap them down as best I can, but we're really not built for this," he complains. "We dont' have proper refrigeration or stasis or storage for so much fresh fruit, but of course if something goes wrong the Company won't care that they set us up to fail."
Hafipaer leans over one of the terminals in the back of BD514's bridge, reading over entries on the Yaro River and Yaro Berries, while unconsciously rolling a wooden ball between his feet. He glances over at the pilot, Ace, and smiles at his confidence but mentally notes that confidence may not help in The Drift.
"Maybe we can find some two-part foam for padding" he muses. "We might be able to secure them in a crate. They do something similar back home but with rajon bush leaves and sap."
With a few taps on the terminal screen, Hafipaer frowns as he realizes his idea isn't likely a good one. "Maybe not. The feeds say that yaro berries do best if stored in a slightly humid place, so packed in dried foam might make things worse."
"I guess we will be at the mercy of Ace's 'need for speed'" he says with a smirk, giving in to his urge to play with his small statured pilot.
"Home? Hafi you never did say where home was. Half-elves are like humans, can't really tell where they're from. I think I've said this before but the closest thing I've got is Castrovel. Doubt anyone there will know me unless we just decide to invade a den in the ground, though -- HA!"
Hafipaer smiles at the thought of how his family would respond to running down prey in a hole in the ground.
"Home for me is Pulonis. You may know it as Vesk-6 though. You are right though, it is kind of unknown where my birth parents were from. I know they spent time on Absalom. My family though, the ones who raised me, were pahtra from the Veskarium."
"Of course," he says with a laugh. "As my mother was an elf it is possible that some of my blood had some interaction with some of your blood. Hopefully, peaceful interaction."
"So guessing you were from Castrovel wasn't even half-right?" Xevras's deep chuckle rumbles over the ship's intercom.
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A small Ysoki, clad in a well-used flight suit, and with over-sized incisors, sighs.
"Well, *this* is going to be a troublesome load, but it's not like we can turn it down. When the higher-ups say to jump, we have to ask how high. I shudder to consider what the penalty would be for turning them down - I don't want to go to debtor's prison, or worse, be declared bankrupt.
Anyone know any cushioning or refrigeration magic?"
"Do you really think Castrovelian elves would willingly shack up with a human, Xevras? Hoity-toity isolationists they are? And I personally dunno any magic besides the one trick. I don't think they'd send us to debtor's prison immediately. Probably depends on your situation before workin' for EJ. We do have a good chance of gettin' canned though, and we definitely don't want that."
Over the comms came a very energetic voice, one that by now was all too familiar. The green and blue hued Skitter was usually around electronics. And if those electronics weren't nailed down or secured, one could almost guarantee it will end up in his workshop in quite a few pieces and various stages of disassembly
"Berries? I like berries. Can be used in all kinds of things. Like pie. I like berry pie!"
Rain pours down on the small freighter, BD514, over dark ocean toward the city of Qabarat, which grows rapidly on the horizon. Though known as the Jewel of the Western Sea, little of the city sparkles in this weather. Qabarat lines the mouth of the Yaro River, which stretches past the city, into the foothills of the Stormshield Mountains beyond. Navigation beacons and the city’s traffic control AI direct BD514 to a landing pad at Ship’s End, the city’s bustling starport. Despite the weather, Ace is easily able to land without too much fuss. It is only a few miles from the pad to the seller, Runo Pratt of Pratt's Produce. Fortunately for the crew, the rain tapers off as they unload the open-topped cargo rig.
It doesn't take very long to drive the hover truck through the city's damp streets. Wisps of steam from the drying streets scattering as the hauler makes steady progress to Pratt's Produce, passing through the various security barriers at the busy port and through a lower-class neighborhood and finally coming to the edge of the suburban district where Pratt's is located.
The inside of the grocery exudes a cleanliness that is minimalistic, but not sterile. Rows of shelves and friendly aisle displays present a wide variety of well-organized foodstuffs for purchase. Dozens of people—mostly lashuntas—go about their daily errands, selecting food and making (sometimes telepathic) conversation. Small, bright screens scattered about the store use flashy ads to announce the day’s best deals and upcoming specials. To the right of the entrance, automated check-out lines supervised by a middle-aged lashunta woman, tally up customer purchases.
Xevras stands up and streeeeeetches when he gets out of BD514, heedless of the rain. He very nearly whacks some of the rest of the crew with his wings as he spreads them out to shake out the stiffness in his wing joints.
"My first time on Castrovel," he comments as he helps get the truck out. "It does rain here a lot, right? I wonder if home is like this during the summer..."
He, of course, rides in the back of the hover truck on the way over. When they reach their destination, he considers the heights of the doors for a moment then says, "How about I wait outside with the truck?"
Hafipaer takes a deep breath of the humid air, recalling similar areas back home.
"Probably for the best, big guy." he calls back over his shoulder as he heads towards the door. "We don't want to start more in the hole than normal if you bump into a display or something. I'll see if I can grab you some kind of munchie though."
"We'll holler if we need you," Ace says as he scampers to the seller, shield-in-tail as a big "I'm not a squox" sign as he walks, alternating between all fours and two legs.
"And yeah, it definitely rains. Oh right yeah... dragonkin are on Triaxus, eh? Could probably pull up some old records from before the Gap an' check"
He then heads into the building, waitimg for the captain to speak. He can work some of Daikitsu's magic with animals but... people are different. He does, however, climb up onto the counter if necessary to keep eye-level.
The Skitter hurries to catch up to the rest, his much larger drone scuttling along as he does. He almost sounds out of breath as he finally catches up
"I need to install a seat on Skip. Short legs is not helping me in the slightest" he seems to be in thought for a while, but when they finally reach their destination, he lights up again as he scurries over to go and watch each of the bright displays
"Probably for the best, big guy." he calls back over his shoulder as he heads towards the door. "We don't want to start more in the hole than normal if you bump into a display or something. I'll see if I can grab you some kind of munchie though."
"Hey, I... *probably* wouldn't do that!" Xevras complains, though he's grinning just a bit, obviously not bothered.
"We'll holler if we need you," Ace says as he scampers to the seller, shield-in-tail as a big "I'm not a squox" sign as he walks, alternating between all fours and two legs.
"And yeah, it definitely rains. Oh right yeah... dragonkin are on Triaxus, eh? Could probably pull up some old records from before the Gap an' check"
"It's been summer once since the Gap! It was just a few decades before I was born." Xevras pauses. "I *might* live long enough to see summer on Triaxus. Assuming I don't get worked to death."
"Oh, right, lifespan. Keep forgettin' there are people who live longer than humans that don't have absolutely ludicrous lifespans like the elves. Guess I forgot Hafi was standin' right next ta me! And really, I coulda sworn the last winter was durin' the gap. Sure it wasn't one of your springs or summers? I've seen simulations, they're amazin'."
"Our years are 317 standard years long, and the Gap was approximately 300 years ago, depending one exactly where you're looking. So we've basically had one full year since the Gap, so there's definitely been one summer since the Gap." Xevras speaks with the kind of eagerness someone who likes sharing random facts usually has.
"Ah yea I misremembered that fact. Didn't grow up there so it isn't engraved in my head. Differences here on Castrovel ain't as vast as on Absalom so I don't really keep the conversion in mind."
The Lashunta supervisor approaches with the practiced smile of someone who has a long history of retail and customer service. "Hello, I'm betting you're the folks from E-Jay?" she asks, pronouncing the letters rather than as 'edge.' Her name tag identifies her as Needa Prat.
"Well, maybe you being on time will mean my husband's awful day is about to turn around. We don't have a real loading dock on this block, but we can clear a path for you to haul the berries out. I need to get back to the front, but Runo's right down there in the manager's office. I'll let him know youre here." Her antennae twitch as she telepathically alerts her husband.
As the crew approaches, the door is opened by an older, stocky lashunta wearing blue coveralls standing beside a wooden desk covered in papers. He taps furiously on a datapad while grumbling to himself. His most notable feature is a missing left antenna and a thin scar that begins at his forehead and zigzags back along his scalp. He looks up, tosses the tablet aside, and says in a polite but agitated voice, “Uh, hey! Sorry, just having some trouble this morning, let's at least get you started. Hopefully I'll get this stupid thing to work while you're loading 'em up.
His eyes seem to grow in size as he rubs all six his little claws together
"I'll be happy to take a look at that?" he offers his expertise to the older Lashunta
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Nik-a-Nik nods.
"Yeah, we're from EJ."
He happily follows Needa's directions to the manager's office, nodding sympathetically at the man's frustration.
"Tech is good, when it works. If your datapad's not functioning right, do you want me to take a quick look at it? I'm used to cajoling an ornery ship's computer on a day-to-day basis."
"We got one more member outside to help out with movin' the berries," Ace says from the counter. "So don't worry, we aren't all this size," Ace says with a wink. "Honestly if I had the creds on me I'd get some Yaro berries myself. Haven't had any since I started workin' for the company."
"Runo, correct? Pleasure to me you." Halfipaer says while reaching out a hand in greeting. "Why don't you show us where the Yaro is and we can start working on loading it up. The techies can likely get to the bottom of those issues and maybe you and me can begin moving the good outside. Ace here can work with our remaining crewmember outside in loading them to the ship."
Nik-a-Nik finds the datapad is thoroughly locked out. He can manage to bypass the lock-out and get the pad up and running in safe mode, but that lacks any connectivity. He can tell it would require more specialized tools to fix the full problem.
"It was working fine for inventory last night, but now it's a mess. I don't need this now, we are getting ready to retire with the proceeds from this deal. Our daughter is going to take over, and I need that thing," he nods at the datapad, "to finish setting up the paperwork." He cracks his neck and then nods. "Yeah, anyway, let's get what we can get done, done! Right this way." He leaves the office heading for the a cavernous attached warehouse where the berries are waiting in crates stamped with Pratt's Produce's Logo.
2nd
With Runo Prat hovering nervously over his shoulder, Robyte sets about fixing his datapad. Prat managed to pick up some malware that hijacked the whole thing. Although Robyte cannot determine the intent, or who wrote the code, he is confident that he's managed to remove it.
Prat is incredibly thankful and recalls that Ace bad shown interest in grabbing a taste of the Yaro berries, gifts a crate for free to the crew. "Seriously, I cannot thank you enough. My wife and I are so ready to get started with our retirement."
“Siski will give you a fair price for this shipment. She runs Ka Imports in Hivemarket. You tell her I sent you! We go way back," Runk says after the last of the berries is loaded onto the cargo rig.
It's a short drive back to the landing area through a city that is a constant buzz of activity. Spacecraft hum in nearby docking facilities and zoom overhead while merchants and crowds of tourists chatter; the rumbling engine of the cargo rig below merges seamlessly into the urban symphony. As the spaceport comes back into view, up ahead, an old woman pushing a cart across the street yelps in alarm asher cart tips over and rusty tanks of petrol tumble out,
scattering in every direction. Traffic stops and drivers in nearby vehicles shout, but the old woman ignores them. Instead, she walks slowly to one of the rolling tanks, picks it up, and carefully cradles it in her arms as she returns to the fallen cart.
"Heads up crew." Hafipaer shouts over his shoulder and points towards the robot in disguise. "Something ain't right here."
Hafipaer looks over the robot, alert for any danger.
Noticing the same thing, Robyte at Hafi, his hands dancing across his rig
"Confirmed. Robotic entity in road. Best be safe"
Skip beeps in response as the spiderlike drone activates and gets ready to fulful his function if needed
"Woah. Don't know if that thing's programmin' is enough to attract a soul, but ain't organic," Ace says as he walks out and sees the robot. He decides to base his judgement on the presence of a soul over anything else. Was simple enough to account for android abolition but still made for useful laborer robots.
He does, however, be ready to grab at his weapon and position his shield at a moments noticr. SROs are alive, yes, but they can still be evil.
Xevras, of course, is a lot of help loading things up, able to easily heft a crate and move it without slowing down. He looks regretfully at Robyte getting to help with a technical problem, but... he knows not to try to help when he's needed elsewhere.
He frowns at the problem in the road as they come to a stop. "If you need help, I could move those for you," he offers the person, trusting the others to keep an eye out if they take his offer.
The strange robot woman, holding one of the fuel barrels, turns and stares at Xevras after his offer to help. She says nothing, but a hissing sound precedes a loud clicking noise coming from metal probes in the robot's mouth. Glowing blue arcs of electricity ignite a small flame and the robot rears back. It looks like it is about to breathe flame like some dragon!
Robyte quickly gets Skip to move and attack the creature, before it can ignite anything of valuable. Them, the rig or the barrels, not to mention the cargo!
"Destroy it!" he calls out at the sight of the coming flames
1 Pen!
"Woah-kay, that's gonna be a flamethrower. Don't even care if it's an SRO. Sayonara! Hopefully I stay in the lady's graces for this one!"
Ace lets out a chitter, and fires a cacophonous shot at the thing with his pulse rackarack, htiting dead center. He then angles his shield with his tail towards the thing,
Xevras leaps out of the truck and takes his axe out, aiming a chop at the robot in hopes of stopping it from spraying fire, or at least drawing its attention towards him instead of the flammables around him.
"Everybody get back!" he roars as he does.
A look of worry crosses Halipaer's face. "Nawanah, help us!" he mutters to no one in particular but then summons his concentration and points to a bit of debris in the road then motions towards the robot. The debris flies as if Halipaer had actually thrown it.
Bludgeoning
The robot is pelted by an empty bottle hurled by Hafipaer's telekinetical attack, knocking bits of the random refuse the construct is made from. Xevras hacks a chunk off the robot himself with his axe and a sizeable dent is left in it's leg from Ace's flashy and loud weapon. Robyte's own attack tears yet more material from the bot with armor penetrating force.
It is Nik-a-Nik, however, who really sets off the fireworks. Literally and metaphorically. His electrical blast catches the strange junkbot square in the chest, just beside it's main power cell. Unfortunately, the blast also ruptures the petrol tank embedded in the robot's chassis. A massive blast erupts from within the bot that totally destroys it and throws shrapnel and fire everywhere. Multiple smaller explosions from sympathetic detonations pop off as the blast catches the rusted fuel containers scattered about from the over-turned cart. Flames scorch the cargo rig and threaten Nik-a-Nik and Hafipaer.
Out of the corner of his eye, Hafipaer spots a trio of goblins zipping out of the alleys on motorcycles made of roughly the same scavenged garbage as the robot. The goblins head strait for the rear of the rig.
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Nik-a-Nik dodges the worst of the blast, but still ends up with singed fur.
"Exploding 'bots, and marauding scrap goblins? WHat is this, pick on honest-transporters' day?!"
He then leans out of the window, and shoots at the goblin on his side of the truck.
"Do we shoot it out with them, or try to flee?"
"They're headin' for the rear! We aren't fleein' if we want to keep our jobs!"
Ace scampers out of the cart, hefting the weapon with more effort than a typical member of his species would need to expend. "Ack, why in the lady's name do these things have to be so heavy?!" He fires the Skittermander-made nuisance weapon, then raises his shield in the direction of the two goblins in front of him.
Halipaer ducks lower into the cab of the truck to avoid some of the flames, though he is still singed. He then notices the goblins approaching fast but they are just out of his range. He chants a quick prayer and winks at Nik-a-Nik before jumping down to the street and closing in on the lone goblin.
The drone swivels it's heavy laser and locks onto the one Nik-Nik shot at, powering up it shoots
Pen 1
Xevras snarls in surprise and pain as the robot explodes and scorches his belly. In spite of the pain, he still charges towards the goblins, roaring "No you don't!" while brandishing his axe.
The street becoming a virtual warzone causes pedestrians and local traffic to speed off for safety from the explosions and sparking noisemaker guns and artillery lasers!
Nik-a-Nik and Ace both coincidentally catch their targets center-mass. Both goblins yelp in pain and snarl at the crew. Both stop trying to load crates onto their junkcycles and go for their weapons. The one to the south never finishes readying his weapon when Skip's massive laser burns straight through the goblin, killing him instantly.
"Keep loading, I'll hold them off!" the goblin Ace wounded shouts over his cycle's sputtering engine. He turns and returns fire. Pure, dumb luck is on the goblin's side as he fires with reckless abandon. Somehow his shot misses the shield and finds a weak spot in his armor.
The other goblin listens to his compatriot and loads a crate onto his junk cycle.
"Haven't you been told not to shoot the local fauna," Ace chitters as he fires a shot at the goblin that shot him (red dot).
Xevras spreads his wings, crouches, then leaps into the air, flying up and over the trailer and landing heavily on the other side. As he does, he growls an incantation, jabbing two fingers of his free hand towards the injured goblin. A pair of translucent missiles shoot from his outstretched digits towards his target.