She's playing with fire. Literally playing with fire. Through gritted teeth: I'm trying to ignore her. Tony studiously ignores Dreanna and continues checking the cargo. When he's done, he calls her down. OI DREA! GET YOUR ARSE DOWN HERE AND STOP FUCKING AROUND. We're about to hit atmos. To Miyu he says, a touch exasperated: If you really want you can stay here, but soon this place is going to be vacuum. It's not that big an issue... unless you like breathing. Me: I'm going to be somewhere with air. OOC: Fixed Making certain that Drea has actually stopped playing with her new firey toy (and where the hell did she find a Zondcat... only on Bakunin would someone think Fire equals Fun). Tony heads for the cargo bay's exit en route to his cabin and his gear, his head shaking slightly. Betty pipes up: Play nice. They'll be looking after your arse soon. And won't that just be a laugh. Tony responds ruefully.
Dreanna looked like Christmas had been cancelled. "Don't even think about getting snarky." said Echo in a threatening tone. "That's your Chief Mechanic and the health of your TAG, is in his hands." "Fiiiiiine" "Fiiiiine." replied Dreanna to both her Mechanic and her Geist. She swiftly stepped forward and jumped off the Cargo Container, dramatically landing on all four limbs like a cat. The dramatic effect was lost as the Rem still in G:Sync, also plunged and did not land nearly as catlike. "Shit!" said Dreanna, looking quite embarrased. "Tony, would you..." she said in a pleading tone, but stopped as her attention went straight to Miyu. "Oh, a fellow Free Spirit from Bakunin! And a Succubus no less!" she said looking at the 'Oniko' up and down. "Dreanna Farabella, from Vaudeville. Where are you from? Will you add a tail and wings? Do you do Private Shows? I heard those were really popular in Module Tartarus." [[OOC: Sorry for the delay. The Weekend was awfully busy for me; and I had an unexpected guest this morning]]
OOC: I will post something as soon as I get off work ... crazy weekend. Amastan has been thoroughly securing his bike and each piece of gear. Seals have been checked, tears stitched, blades sharpened, and water caches filled (thanks to the ship's unprotected water supply). Powering off all unessential equipment (Everything in his eyes, other than com link and emergency respiration systems, Amastan threw his bike in neutral and began rolling it down through the cargo bay. He made sure to keep his camo netting draped over his REM and gear while doing so, learning to never trust the sticky fingers of restless mercenaries. OI DREA! GET YOUR ARSE DOWN HERE AND STOP FUCKING AROUND. We're about to hit atmos. Amastan shook his head as he silently padded by the bickering couple. The water-soft travelers would never truly make sense to him. Entering atmosphere though, that was something that concerned the large desert warrior. He strapped on his facemark and pulled his still suit hood so it would barely reveal his eyes. It wouldn't do to spring any leaks now. He began to quicken his pace, weaving between crates with his eyes et on a heavily armored Guijia. OOC: Updated @stevenart74 !
As soon as the weird "Zondcat" Drone had made a spectacle of itself another inhuman robotic figure followed its movement around the overhead gantries that surrounded the cavernous Cargo Bays of the Nomads Orbital Freighter. . . Being at its inception a "Voidship Repair Barge" the structure of the Shuttle Launch Bays were top notch for the No-Atmosphere expertise of the Nomad Mothership's Crews and that made no exception. . . A weird and bizarre contraption, anyone expert with the Technical Specs of the Haqqislamite Drones would have recognized it as a kitbashed Chassis made half with the Parts of the "Kameel Model" (a Baggage-Bot known for its excellent Ammo Reload and Bag-Porter Capabilities and with a Radome Disk very useful to enhance an Operator hacking range) and a "Shaytain" (far more dangerous Military Model, usually armed with Modular Micromissile / Rocket Pods and a Light Shotgun for fending off close attackers). . . But that Customized Drone did not ended there, as it owned, hosted on its Arachnoid Frame as a reminder of an Organic Spider venomous fang-pedipalps a far more lethal, if TOTALLY Jury-Rigged kind of Scattershot Rifle. . . It bore JUST a slight resemblance to an antiquated Pump-Action Shotgun, but the lever mechanism was removed to host a sort of rotating cylinder ammo feed that housed into armoured casings many different Shotgun Shells; it was clear that the Drone Gun was able to sacrifice some "Rate-Of-Fire Speed" to choose, in the Revolver Rotation, a specific Slug Ammunition to cope with various Tactical Possibilities. . . Also the Haqqislamite Drone was provided with SIX Hydraulic Legs, over the usual Four, and those were protected by a far sturdier Armour Plating, clearly taken from some Army Junked Hulk, scoured and pitted by the harsh Desert Winds of Bourak, and hastily welded and repainted in matching Camo Colours. . . The multi-faceted eyes of the "Arachnobot" sparked with a vivid "Simulated Intelligence" probably Slaved to the owner Geist and "Live-Feeding" the sensor's suite readings directly on a wrist mounted Comlog. . . It followed for a little while the antics of the Zondbot and the owner and suddendly, as a faithful dog called by the Master's Whistle, dropped interest and ran speedily to its owner to help with securing on a loading crane-platform the Bulky Desert Bike-With-Sidecar that was the main vehicle of the owner. . .
One week from the present day: Sir Graywulf sat at his desk mulling over the upcoming task. He had already accrued some new blood for the Minotaurs who were already in route to Dawn. Still, trusting a group consisting of both veteran Minotaurs and a couple of rookies wasn't a practical idea but he had an obligation to fulfill. A job had to be done and his Mercenary group was hired to do it. Therefore, this arrangement couldn't be helped no matter what. The door to his quarters opened and in stepped a Morat between 7 to 8 feet tall. His skin showcased a multitude of scars ranging from barely visible & insignificant to defined & eye turning. The two males stared at each other for a few seconds. "Glad you could make it," the half-masked Caledonian spoke. "Would you like to have a seat?" "No thanks," the gruff sounding Morat replied. "Very well, I'll get right to it then." "Over the next couple of days new recruits will be reaching or landing on this island." "The reason for this being important is due to a recent contractor hiring our services I'm going to have to put together a ragtag group for the mission." "I'm not comfortable with leaving such an assembly that is not familiar with each other by themselves." "Its asking for trouble and a possible breakdown resulting in our failure to meet the client's expectations." "Therefore, I'm asking if you can be part of this band of strangers and help keep any mishaps from happening." "Why me?" the Morat spoke once more. "You have others that you're more familiar with than I." "Wayah for example is much closer to your family than me or my wife who just arrived here not to long ago." "I agree that Wayah would also be a good candidate for this task but her and Balam already have planned activities with the children." "While I'm not against the idea of having Wayah go to keep the peace your introduction into our lives has given me some options concerning that." "The job itself shouldn't be long or difficult by any means but I'm giving you a choice in the matter on wether to go or not." "I have a family too Graywulf." "Two sons who, as you know, just came out of a tough period in their lives." "This will take me away from them and Bella which is something I'm not keen on doing." The Caledonian sighed. "And you know how much I understand those feelings that you are currently harbouring." "That is one of the reasons I gave you a choice in the matter." "Choose whatever you feel is right concerning this situation." Uja'rak was going to politely say no and be done with the subject but someone changed his mind. "Accept," he heard a Voice utter. Uja sighed inwardly and then returned his gaze to the Scotsman. "Alright, I'll accept." "However, if something with my family comes up before then I'm afraid I'll have to decline." "That is more than fair," answered Sir Graywulf. And with that said the Morat turned around and left the man's office. Leaving Graywulf to mull over these recent developments in his thoughts.
Busy with her TAG’s checkup Miyu didn’t notice Dreannas little accident with her Zondcat at first, only turning around as the mechanic creature noisily hit the ground. To her surprise the flamethrower woman had apparently taken interest in her as she was suddenly bombarded with a set of unexpected if not exactly unfamiliar questions. Of course Miyu knew about Bakunin and its people’s love for crazy body modifications, and it was only natural for people that didn’t know her to assume she was one of them….but to be compared with a Succubus? That one actually hurt a bit…though some would have considered it a compliment. Nonetheless Miyu was more than used to stuff like that, and way worse, and thus she simply politely nodded towards the woman that had just introduced herself as Dreanna and answered in her usual well practiced “talking to strangers” manner “Hello Dreanna, my name is Miyu Horoshi, and I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m actually from the Human Edge…though I’d consider Shentang to be my real home if I’d ever have stayed in one place long enough to truly call it home….” With that said she quickly tipped her head backwards towards her shoulder and then rose her hand a little, inspecting them for a few moments “Na I don’t think I’ll be adding wings or a tail anytime soon, I used to have claws but they were quite annoying so I had them returned back to normal. I’m also kinda not a Succubus, though I guess a Oni could be considered quite close to that, being all Demonic and stuff as well, though a bit more “club your face in” and a bit less “sexy time” in orientation I guess…just like me really….” As Miyu said so she padded her weapons on her hip, as well as softly stroking over the surface of her nearby TAG. “As for Private Shows….well I mean…my shows weren’t exactly private really, more like Maya Net Entertainment n stuff, but that was quite a while ago and will stay that way if I can manage it….” While Miyu was saying this, Commander Koi was invisibly circling around her, inspecting Dreanna from every angle, searching every available database for information on her as he did. It never hurt to be prepared, especially with a woman controlling a flame thrower bot…. “What about you? Are you doing Private Shows, or what brings a Bakunin Kitten like yourself to a rock like Dawn? You don’t strike me as your average freighter crew member if I may say so…”
[Antonio "Tony" Rodriquez Personal Comm Tacnet. . . "Boss Tony, the Gecko T.A.G. is loaded on the crane-platform and primed to be put in the Holding Bay of the Orbital Shuttle as soon as possible. . . I advise to leave Me outside the Back Recess until the Finalization of the Ship Departure are followed properly and only then I will Latch on My Housing. . . I don't trust those Half-Witted Dronbots that the "Rough Rocinante" employs; those rustbuckets could not understand an Hydrospanner from a Welding Torch. . ." APPROACHING NOW MASTER POSITION; E.T.A. 0,0321 Seconds] Those were the slightly coloured affirmations of the Corregidoran Mechanic personal Drone; a normally seeming Zond-Tinbot Frame if not for the fact that the Left Arm was totally substituted with an enormous Hydraulic Crane-Servoarm clearly obtained by stripping down Armourplates and unnecessary systems from a Tactical Armoured Gear sized Slave-Arm and grafting it in a Reinforced Shoulder Housing. . . The effetc could also being visually comical (or downright horryfying if remembering some Maya "Fright Flick" with a crazed Praxis Monster Maker that grafted totally out-of-size Arms and Limbs to hapless "Lab Specimens") and made an uncanny resemblance to a "Chimera Drone Tinbot". . . Even if the gait was a little like a shambling Robotic Simian (if a Small Arboreal Monkey would have found itself grafted the Oversized Limb of a Big Ape like a Gorilla or Orang-Gutan !!!) the Zondbot anyway propelled itself quickly with the Extra Gyroscopes added to the frame for balance purposes. . . . .!!!
Dreanna smiled sheepishly at Miyu "Sorry about the confusion." "If only I had a Geist to look people's info in advance..." "I'm on it, I'm on it..." replied an annoyed Echo opening a screen and doing a quick search on Miyu. "Well, the Freighter I was in had an *ahem* unsolvable problem with its Main Reactor, so I found myself jobless and homeless on a very short notice." she said noticing Miyu's weapon and the look only a TAG Pilot could give to her/his TAG. "Lucky for me, Tony was near and gave me a hand." "More like you begged, groveled and pestered him until he accepted, but accuracy is overrated." said Echo not looking up from her screen. "Shut up, you!" "Anyway, I'm a Certified Gecko Pilot, so I guess we might be seeing each other on the field." she finished going back to where she landed and check on her zondcat. "Oh my God! She's famous!" said Echo clearly impressed with her findings. "And I'm talking MAYA SUPERSTAR!!! Please, ask her to cut her Signature on your breast!!!" "What? No, you psycho!" "Ah come on, 34D is big and she's reeeeally good with the sword!" "NO!" Replied Dreanna instinctively covering her chest and blushing. ------------------ Commander Koi can easily find that Dreanna Farabella, age 27 is the daughter of Fabiola Farabella (Diseased); and has ties to the Snow Harpies Gang on Vaudeville. She has been implicated in 4 counts of Arson, but was never convicted. She was involved in several similar incidents in her teenage years, but similarly, never served time for it. For the last 4 years her record goes clean, in concordance with her recruitment on board the Do Nacimento Freighter (Destroyed by Reactor Core Failure).
As Commander Koi sent the information he gathered about Dreanna right into Miyu's mind display (neuronal comlog) Miyu tried hard to resist the urge to laugh, eventually failing and releasing a little chuckle at the show the duo in front of her was delivering. Part of her wanted to run with the joke and unsheath her sword, but her brain and Commander Koi's stern look remindet her that this wouldn't have been her smartest idea being surrounded by potential mercenaries and whatnot as she was. And of course the woman in front of her had just recently been playing around with a flamethrower...so there was that... "You've got a lively Geist there with you if I may say so, a good thing to have when working in space I reckon? Anyways, yeah, I was kind of famous way back in the day, but to be honest, those days are past me now, and maybe one day those Paparazi and Stalkers out there will realize that as well.....as for the autograph....please don't ask for me to cut it into your breast if possible...I only did that once...when I was young...and drunk...and I REALLY wanted to impress someone....obviously that person happened to livestream it and bam...now everybody asks me to do it...crazy people really....anyways...you wouldn't happen to know where I am supposed to wait until the shuttle arrives? Wouldn't want to get sucked into the vacuum before my first mission as a Merc....I assume you're going down in the shuttle as well? I'm glad I'm not the only "new one" or have you done this before?"
Dreanna and Echo looked at Miyu, turning even a deeper shade of red (deep blue in Echo's case), then at each other, then at Miyu again. Dreanna closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands; while Echo turned over with her tongue out and a pair of Xs instead of eyes, then fizzled out. "I'm new here too." said Dreanna avoiding eye contact with Miyu. "Tooooooooonyyyyyyyyyyy!!! Where are we supposed to go?" she asked while helping her Zondcat to stand.
Proud noble quickly turned to the beautiful doctor when she spoke up, politely asking him to go and test the arm. He offered almost as bright smile, before firing back, with little hesitation or worry. "Doctor, for you, everything." Noble said with enough thankfulness and warmth to be able to melt a glacier, not sure if he could ever repay the foreign beauty. "If you will need anything, just say and I will stop at nothing to make it happen." Still Caledonian didn't need to hear the command again and soon, he covered himself with the standard issue combat clothes, covering most of his body and getting ready to enter the test zone. When able, soldier eyed the diagrams, himself barely able to understand anything but the basics, but certainly curious. McElliot after all, always was capable paramedic and seemed to have a talent for biology. Still as soon as uniform was ready, Scot stepped through the door answering the doctor, not overly mindful of the affection scientist showed to her creation. [Roll for Medicine/Education. Dices said 11 and 6] "Maybe fact I am second generation of Dog-face helps here? I was not infected by the virus, my genetic material may be slightly more stable." Added the Caledonian, as he flexed and stretched the mechanical fingers before clenching them into fist, just so happy to be done with that weird hollow sensation of phantom limb. Still soon he was "enjoying" the AI blaring on the loudspeakers, going through of standard warning procedure, politely informing him he would be tazed and facing against actual combat training... and it felt just right. It made soldier feel very much alive. Few punches at the shadow, few smoother moves of the wrist to get the "feeling" right, now that cybernetic was no longer slab of teseum, but actually felt like a limb... and Scot was heading right into the fray. Five opponents, even if weak were a challenge, especially in such a tight space, with little room to remain mobile and thus forcing Alistair to engage them practically at once. Still, "complete" soldier was certainly a sight to behold, moving with uncanny speed and skill, each motion aimed to parry the blow with enough force to push them back. Still finally the blows caused enough pain. Usually Alistair would try to restrain himself. Now? He was far from it. Most people are used to seeing beast of worst kind when Dog Warrior is finally let loose, a growling, snarling slab of muscle and fur tearing and biting everything in range in bloody haze. Alistair knew how the surge of adrenaline feels, how it will make his heart race and his senses so sharp, he will be able to pick up perfumes of both doctors overseeing the test. He was ready to let go of most of his thoughts and focus on the five puny dummies still clumsily attacking him. The robots were doomed the moment final teseum plate locked in place and transformation was complete. Most of dog-warriors would start tearing the limbs away, jumping and simply looking to maim poor metallic beasts. Alistair meanwhile followed with his training, the very same training his instructors made his second nature. if he was a sight to behold in his human form, watching him fight now could be described as martial arts pornography. Parries and grabs were executed with precision and speed most humans would have hard time observing, each blow delivered in style that was ages ago delivered from Aikido, shattered and obliterated mechanical joints, while "wolfman" continued to simply dance between them, with bestial grace as if combat was his second nature. Poor dummies lasted not much longer than a whole minute, before Dog-warrior was simply done with them, each model utterly disable, either through damage to the limbs or twisted head. Alistair meanwhile kept breathing, slowly as if the exercise was as much warm up as the few moments of boxing with shadows. Only then a voice Caledonian recognized and held dear spoke in his comlog. "Stay frosty Fluffy. It was a while since you did that Lad." Dog Warrior froze in place for a second, still getting used to his Geist, one that was based on his old friend. McElliot looked to his right when an image of Caledonian soldier stood watching him. "It is good to see you back in shape Fluffy." Spoke the reflection of a man with ginger hair and eyes so blue sky would be put to shame, wearing long camo cloak most Scot Guards were issued. And beast, despite all the Adrenaline couldn't help but speak, still unused to fact he didn't had to talk to his Geist. "It feels good to be in one piece Galahad." Then Lord McElliot turned his head toward the women watching him, his voice low and dark, but still carrying the rumbling warmth and hint of immense satisfaction, especially as mechanical hand seemed more than simply responsive.. "Any more tests?" Powerful Scot turned around slowly, unable to help himself but puff his chest out and straightening up in surprisingly proud and noble manner, despite his mind howling for him to run and fight.
[Please All Passengers Onboard Bound for New Knossos Island be directed to Cargo Bay N°3; Orbital Shuttle Loading Cargo and Passengers; Please follow the Orange Holo Directional Arrows. . .!! Please All Passengers Onboard Bound for New Knossos Island be directed to Cargo Bay N°3; Orbital Shuttle Loading Cargo and Passengers; Please follow the Orange Holo Directional Arrows. . .!! Please All Passengers Onboard Bound for New Knossos Island be directed to Cargo Bay N°3; Orbital Shuttle Loading Cargo and Passengers; Please follow the Orange Holo Directional Arrows. . .!!] That message was blared through the sligthly malfunctioning loudspeakers of the “Rough Rocinante” and, more efficaciously, also forwarded in the Infodump Noosphere that the Ship Control System had shared 100% with all Accredited Passengers. . . Soon the haphazard group of passengers were sent to the Cargo Bay designated for loading their stuff and bringing them to their new “Home-Far-From-Home”; yet a couple of Crewmembers in the typical Nomads Orbital Fatigues were busy directing a lot of small, dented and oil-smeared “Lesser Tinbots” to properly attach Winch-Ropes to sturdy metal loading platforms filled with all manners of “Heavy Duty Goods”. . . There was an enormous “Samurai Shaped” Heavy T.A.G. alongside Tony's smaller Gecko Frame, and there was a sort of “Junk Crate Collection” of Spare Parts (that the Corregidoran Mechanic expert eye recognized as more than enough to rebuilt a Exosuit similar to his from scratch) along with other strangely shaped and marked Boxes alongside. . . What interested more the scarred Mecha-Pilot was that ALL the “Special Crates” forwarded to Him by his Contact were present, safely loaded or in the process of being so and their “Location Beacon” blinked brightly, in vivid “Advanced Reality” relays in His Comlog Patina and Geist “Smart-Sight”. . . The Japanese “Demon Babe” Heavy Exoframe was filled with Ad-Block and Anti-Sensor Firewalls, but was clearly something as much weighting, if not downright even more imposing, than the Jotums of Pan-Oceania and the Guijia Armoured Cavalry of Yujing; there were strangely shaped “Vane Antennas” on the back and other not clear-cut “Holo Emitters” alogside important places of the Suit Frame and the Chassis Keypoints but was difficult to devine their purpose. . . Then immediatly the technical expertise of Tony recognized that the OTHER weird boxes were marked for charging WITH the “Dismantled Gecko” and that it had Dreanna “Virtual Signature”; a quick check with its Geist librarian-memory then signaled that was ALL “Stealth Material” pertaining to built the MOST silent and invisible Light T.A.G. possible. . . There were Smart-Camo Paint Tubes, specially silent Rubber Tire-Soles and Joint Covers, Panels of radar-absorbing material and the typical Hex-Shaped platings of Thermo-Optical “Visual Distortion Fields”. . . . .as well as what was suspiciously similar to Napalm Canisters and Fuel Tanks for Heavy Flamethrowers. . . First Tony was asking itself HOW the notoriously bankrupt Catgirl from Bakunin had obtained SO MUCH priceless Advanced Tech Prototypes and then, suddendly, a Post-Traumatic Disorder styled seizure overcame Him. . . . . . . . A Stealth T.O. Camo Tactical Armoured Gear, armed with all manners of Flame & Fire-Based Weaponry. . . . .!!! . . . . . Suddendly Tony was no more in the cavernous holds of the “Rough Rocinante” but back in the “Greenhell Inferno” that were the Paradiso Southern Battle-Lines; all around Him there were burning trees and flaming wreckages of Nomads Wargear, along with a sinister shimmering haze in the air, made even more confusing than the usual Torrid Tropical Heat of the Battle-Torn Planet. . . “Tony, TONY, for the Love of the Mothership, FALL BACK ! FALL BACK I SAY !!!” “It is that thrice damned Alien Stealth T.A.G. ! It has burned all the Druzes Light Infantry and it is coming right for You. . .!!” “TONY FALL BACK!! It is Him / It / Her / Whatever Sex those damned Shausvastoy are. . .! “It is APOPHYS !!. . . . .and it's coming for You !!!” Then suddendly before the Optical Feed of the Corregidoran Pilot Suit appeared, as if from thin air for a magicaal parlor trick, an hideous Alien Tactical Armoured Gear. . . It bore a small resemblance with the typical "Sphinx Frames" of the Continuum Forces; was a sort of Dark-Forest / Matte-Black disturbing to the eye, and with weird shaped “Modular Vane Wings”; also had an hideous death-mask rictus grin on the horned Helmeted Head that made the “Draconic Imagery” even more frighteningly horrible !! Before being able to bring on bear the implanted Guns on the Gecko's Forearm Vambraces then, almost with a casual, lazy gesture the Shaasvastii Elite Suit unleashed an abominable mix of Superheated Plasma and Alien Napalm-Like Chemicals. . . “Tony ! TONY !! TOOOOONYYYY !!!” The headset-voice of the Corregidoran Troops Mission Leader was drowned in the roar of the Alien Plasma-Flamer and the creaking of the Gecko Cockpit burining and melting away, while for Tony EVERYTHING become Fire & Pain !!! . . . . . Heedless of the nightmarish mental plight of Her Nomads Compatriot, then Dreanna was busy directing Her personal “Zondcat” Drone to help wit securing the loading Exoframes, almost commandeering the comically Oversized-Arm Tinbot of Tony, that started to act after looking, as if puzzled, its owner uncharacteristically immoble and silent. . . Before the various assorted goods of the Feline Chimera was brought to be loaded She saw a very peculiar, and imposing, figure busy securing a weirdly-shaped Desert Outrider Bike (with a strangely shaped lump and wheel, where a Sidecar Pod should have been affixed !!) with the help of an Arachnoid Drone coloured in the Regalia of the Haqqislamite Irregulars. . . Tall and bulky, the foreigner was clad in a shimmering Stealth-Thermoptic Cloak with weird flowing cape-flourishing; had a sort of Vintage Silenced Submachinegun, with an Underbarrell Grenade Launcher affixed strapped on the back, other smaller arms worn on its persona and a strangely shaped Curved Short Sword, with a very weird structure that Dreanna Optical Relay was NOT able to understand but that immediatly pinged on Her patina overlay the “WARNING: BIOHAZARD !!!” Virtual Tag. . . But even more strange was the Suit that clad head-to-toe the Stranger, barely recognizable under the Ammo Belts and Clip Holders; apparently was similar to an Hazmat Suit, but was totally different, and weirdly followed the Body Anathomy almost as if contouring the Muscle Features. . . A Total Mask was covering the Foreigner face, and was a sort of anachronistic “Bedouin Headcover” crossed with a very Advanced Hi-Tech Visor of some sort. . . . . . . . While the Bakunite Catgirl was tallying and sizing up the very interesting fellow from Bourak, one of the Technician Crew of the Nomads Ship approached Miyu. . . “Excuse Me, Miss. . . . .Horoshi ? There could be a slight discrepancy with Your loaded Baggage. . !!” “It is very strange, as I personally reviewed Your Cargo Manifesto when We unloaded from the Circular, but it seems, very weirdly, that a sort of. . . . .new, previously unseen Piece of Baggage has been somehow. . . . .Added. . .to Your personal tally, and even pre-paid for. . .!!” “I don't know what could be, how could have been possible and, with the recent problems with Your overzealous. . . . .Otakha Fans. . .I fear that could be something even embarassing, if not downright dangerous. . .” “Do You perchance recognize it. . .??” A couple of Tinbot Drones approached Miyu, slowly pulling an Hydraulic Servo-Platform that hold a suspiciously Coffin-Sized, and Coffin-Shaped, elongated box. . . Even without external markings then the Nihonjin “Onna-Bugeisha” Exoframe Pilot immediatly recognized the Manifacturer, and general description. . . . . . . . It was UNMISTAKABLY one of the “Combat Doll Housing” that Her familial enterprise employed to ship away their special brand of “Melee Specialist Karakuri Gynoids”. . . . .!!! . . . . .
OOC: on phone so I'll tidy this up laterEdited it's purrty and makes sense. Tony tells Dreanna and Miyu that they're in the right place, just at the wrong time. They'll want to come back into the cargo bay after the shuttle had docked.... although why he was explaining that to Dreanna he wasn't too sure, but she was a weird one. Tony grabs his gear - a single duffle, consisting of his pilot suit and a couple of changes of clothes and not much else - and then heads back to the Cargo Bay 3. Arriving just in time to hear the main broadcast blare out. As he steps into the Cargo back, he's struck by a flashback and turns out for a few moments. He comes back to the present, hearing: “. . . . .new, previously unseen Piece of Baggage has been somehow. . . . .Added. . .to Your personal tally, and even pre-paid for. . .!!” “I don't know what could be, how could have been possible and, with the recent problems with Your overzealous. . . . .Otakha Fans. . .I fear that could be something even embarassing, if not downright dangerous. . .” “Do You perchance recognize it. . .??” Oh FFS, Mateo said these guys were competent @Gina: What the actual fuck? This better fucking work or you can explain to Mateo why all the gear got impounded. OOC: Thievery test to pressure Mateo's contact into rapidly unfucking this all. Using Thievery because I've got more chances of success even if it's got a higher difficulty /complication chance. Roll(2d20): 11,12. 2 successes. And I forgot to grab the link for those rolls :( If it's higher than D2 I'll burn an infinity point for a '1'. Which will give me 4 successes. If I have spare momentum add it to the pool.
@inane.imp . . . DO NOT FRET (and waste precious Infinity Points). . . Mateo's Contact is the VERY Female Crewmember (a Corregidoran Void Specialist called "Gina Lopez") that is puzzled by the sudden appearance of a Crate that is WHERE IT NOT BELONGS. . . She is contacting Miyu to redress all of this for the explicit purpose of "Not Fucking It All". . . Just if You are wondering, Mateo's Stuff is rare Bio-Chemicals from the Nomads Nations needed by the Kum Bikers to create their customized "Morlocks Combat Drugs". . . In any case the Rolls that You made will be ENOUGH to settle all scores (but if You will ANYWAY still expend the Infinity Point then it will ALL go smoothier than "Silk"). . . It also depends on @Yasashii Fuyu 's reaction to the "Surprise Gift Box". . . . .!!!
“Garçons, s'il Vous plait !!” (Boys, please !!) The exasperated tone of Sergeant Arabelle was uttered and sighed once more as the adoptive sons of Belle and Her Morat Husband, Uja'Rak Se'Ok continued their chattering, endless “Catcalls” for joking double-entendre sexy-sounding innuendos towards their adoptive parents. . . It was soon due to arrive an Orbital Shuttle from a Nomads Starship that would have brought down on New Knossos Island much awaited supplies and rare Hi-Tech Goods, and even more important THREE new Tactical Armoured Gear Pilots that the Minotaurs High Command had somehow secured from all weird corners of the Human Sphere. . . As one of the BEST sharpshooters of of the Ariadnan Branch of the Mercenary Brigade it fell off to Arabelle and Her selected squad of Merovingian Snipers and Marksmen to secure the perimeter of the old, semi-abandoned Airport Terminal of the Island. . . Not very used anymore it had become the “Dungeon Lair” of the notorious rowdy bunch of the Minotaurs Biker Gang, an unholy crossbreed between Desperados natives of Planet Dawn and the Kum Outriders of Layla Bey; while their chaotic efficacy and irregular tactics on the Battlefield had been quite useful in the past, their laxness in Security Details needed that a thorough sweep of the place was MUCH needed. . . Later the other Commanding Members of the Minotaurs Officer Corp would have been present to greet the newcomers and officially start the newest “Asymmetrical Warfare Operative Squad” of whom even Her husband would have been part of. . . “I'm a little worried My dear ! Why awaiting at the Old Disused Airport instead of the brand new facility for Orbital Shuttles built in the Volcanic Caldera this I don't know !! The “Official Answer” that the Newcomers T.A.G.s would have been more easier to load in the External Exoframes Bay is pure bullshit I daresay !!!” “Probably the Bikers have imported God know what weird Chemical Shit from the Nomads Motherships to fund their damned Combat Drug Labs and they want it delivered RIGHT ON THEIR DOORSTEP ! Lazy junkies and useless criminals all of them !!” . . . . . While Uja'Rak could comprehend the vehemence of its Merovingian Wife towards the “Minotaurs Irregulars” He idly mused how much was Her own true belief and how much “Vitriolic Venom” was dripped down from Her Superior Commander, Colonèl-Gèneral Marianne Labory, that was an ancient enemy of “King Mynos”, the Leader of the U.S.Ariadnan Bikers, and whose old feuds were difficult to overcome totally. . . . . . . . “And I'm a little worried also by the composition of the Squad that You will be part of; while the Ariadnan ones I trust implicitly (Sir Alistair Mc Elliott, the Team Leader, is a Noble Caledonian of spotless Military Service Career, and the Cowboy T.A.G. Pilot seems to have left behind its old “Terrorist Roots”) the Foreign ones are quite weird. . .!!” “The Mechanic from Corregidor is a Veteran of Paradiso and seems to have been sorely wounded in Action versus the Combined Army Forces; I do not want that seeing You a Morat will revert to old Kill-The-Alien tactics, not understanding that You are a Krakot Mercenary. . .!!” “The Hell-Kitty from Bakunin seems to be a SLIGHTLY more stable, rational and sane Character, but it is noted Her love for Fire-Based Weaponry and Her last stint was on a Starship that had Explosive Core Failure. . . . . .God Willing, it was NOT caused by Her playing with a Flamethrower nearby the Primary Plasma Coils !!” With a sigh Arabelle finished to dress in Her field combat fatigues, ignoring the continuous Catcalls of the two adoptive sons (“Hey Mom, I saw Her Biopic ! Is another GORGEOUS Catwoman !! Do You fear that if She ally with that crazed Jaguar-Babe then Dad will not resist their Combined Wiles ???”) and started to select what would have been the best Personal Longarm for the Service, from Her rack upended over the Bedplace. . . While She longed wistfully on Her Ariadnan Custom Viral Rifle (a Mark of Honour of Her stint of duty in the Merovingian “Loup-Garous” Anti-Dogwarrior Special Teams) She then settled for a basic Assault Rifle optimized for Long Range Sniping, with a Gyrostabilized Handle, sturdy regulable Stock and a big Tactical Scope with I.R. Rangefinding Capabilities, still continuing Her rant. . . “And what of the other two that are Not Nomads. . .??” “The Haqqislamite File is full to the brim of so much REDACTED SENSIBLE DATA and UNSUFFICIENT CLEARANCE LEVEL stuff, that I wonder why they bothered at all to leave on the Local Arachne Noosphere ! It all smacks of Sultanate Secret Service or even worse the Hashashins Bahram, and those are very nasty fellows I say (even more that I personally know a couple of them, now !!). . .” “And NOT let Me go around with the Nipponese Mayastar !!! A Celebrity of Gladiatorial Combat between Exoframes sponsored by the Hyperpowers Megacorps !!!!! What could possibly be this Glitzy Starlet have to do on our beloved Planet Dawn I don't know. . .!!” “I SINCERELY Hope is NOT another shitty Mayacast like “Living Between the Atek Primitives !!” AGAIN !!! They could take their Hyperpower Techno-Dildos and put them into. . . . .!!!” She stopped abruptly when the giggling fits of Arryn and Ju-On become an hysterical laughter (well, hysterical for the Indian dark-skinned Boy; His more Oriental brethren decided to extract a Paper Fan and “Politely” hide the snarking smiling giggle, as a parody caricature of the Demure Geishas !!). . . Arabelle huffed, took some Standard Full-Metal Jacket Ammo Clips and fewer Armor Piercing ones from the Armoured Ammo Safe in the corner of the room, and (after pocketing carefully some spare, rare, precious and costly Hyper-Penetrator Teseum-Tipped to be used “Under Dire Straits”) then slammed close the Safe Door and stormed outside the Housing Compound. . . “When You exit for Your Briefing, My dear, please take care of Old Scaleface there, I'm sure that maybe Arryn will be DELIGHTED to bring it aorund for a Pissing Walk. . .!!” The mere mention of the hideously savage “Snakewolf” Predator of Planet Dawn (competing as niche Alpha Apex with the native Antipodes) stopped abruptly the laughing fits of the dark-skinned Indian Boy. . . For some weird reason, as soon as a savage beating had permanently mind-scarred the reptilian monster that Uja'Rak was the ALPHA of the House then “Old Scaleface” had also taken a submissive attitude towards Arabelle and Ju-On. . . But it positively seethed when Arryn approached, by hissing the venomous spits of the drooling fangs, and even raising the poisoned quills that constituted the Mane, the dorsal fins and the end of the Tail where the loathsome opportunistic beasts could shoot some quills. . . After the Wife exited the home to rendez-vous with Her Sniper Team onboard a Quick Response Armoured Vehicle and the adoptive sons had calmed a little then the new, pristine Comlog of the Morat Renedade Daturazi sounded and chimed in, with a newer timetable for the upcoming arrival. . .
BLAM ! BLAM ! BLAM ! BLAM ! BLAM ! K-POW !!! . . . . . Five resounding explosion of High Caliber Bullets from the Ariadnan Revolver, and one more muffled burst from the Underbarrell Shotgun Cartridge signaled another round of victorious shooting by the U.S.Ariadnan Cowboy. . . Just outside the Tactical Armoured Gear hangars there was kept an impromptu shooting contest between Pilots, Mechanics and other assorted Personnel of the Minotaurs idly lazing the idle time. . . Sam White had vanquished many of the Pistol-Wielding opponents and Just two remained to continuosly try and test the mettle of the Ariadnan Native: Viktor Kurt “Snowpiercer” was an Ex-Nisse Hacker from Pan-Oceania that usually preferred to use an Assault Rifle with an Underbarrell Grenade Launcher as “Signature Weapon” but had continuously upgraded His Comlog and Retinal H.U.D. with the latest “Target Acquisition Softwares” of the Human Sphere; even with a standard 12mm. Suppressed Sidearm Handgun of the Minotaurs was quite precise, even if the recoil was far different than the weird Caseless Ammo Guns that the Pan-Oceanian was grown with. . . His “Partner In Crime & Life” the mysterious Ex-Odalisque known as “Istilah, The Night Djinn” (at least when was masked in the Lasiq Uniform of the Hashashin Bahram) instead favoured two smaller, totally Silenced 10mm. Autopistols that She employed with Three-Round Bursts with uncanny capacity, allineating lethal rows of shoots; differently than the Virtuality-Helped Kurt Viktor the Haqqislamite probably was filled to the brim with Gene-Engineered Enhancements and Silk-Based Military Bio-Implants that made Her a very lethal sharpshooter. . . But Sam White was a proud U.S.Ariadnan and had grown up nearby the Sion Wall with a Revolver in hand; even if the mostruous Combi-Handcannon that was employing now was quite heavier than the Americolt Peacemakers that He was accustomed to, it was still good, old, reliable Steel-Teseum alloyed metal and those fancy “Hi-Tech Toys” of the Foreigners would have amounted to nothing, in His Book. . . The Cowboy and Exoarmour Pilot finished to line up another three rows of empty bottles of various assorted Drinks of Native Beverages and returned back behind the metal fences. . . Looking that His competitors were ready awaited that the Chief Guijia Mechanic and Pit-Boss, the Yujing Expat called “Smiling-Buddha-With-Brass-Hands”, would give the signal to shoot. . . All the while the various spectators were some of the Female Mechanics of the Exosuit Hangars that continuously made catcalls and cheers whenever Sam was shooting. . . As soon as was understood that “Mr. Cowboy” was an Unattainable Bachelor NOT interested in casual flirts then some of the more. . . . .Extroverts. . .between the local babes had somehow started a Contest on their own to become the first to Entice and Bed Him. . . His “Android Butler” (an old “Chappie Model” that acted as a “Physical Avatar” of His personalized Custom Geist) had recorded that the two most vocal “Fangirls of Sam” where a long-legged Amazonian Blonde Kazak called Natasha and a slightly more demure and petite Dark Skinned U.S.Ariadnan named Diana Elaine. . . But it was all done in jest and good cheer; none of the Girls of the Pit Crew were overtly vulgar and boisterously seductives (differently from some other Babes of other branches of the Minotaur Mercs, such as the Infamous Chimera-Jaguar “LaTigre Balam” that somehow DID NOT UNDERSTOOD the very CONCEPT of “No, Thanks” !!). . . Sam was ready to shoot and demonstrate the superiority of Ariadnan Pistol-Whipping again, when its Comlog bell-chimed and the obsequious voice of the Geist Vizier warned that a Summon by the High Command Officers had been issued. . .!!
Wopk Kam'atk: "So, what seems to be the problem?" Uja'rak Se'ok: "This." The male Morat presented the Snakewolf, holding the beast by the nape of the neck. Wopk Kam'atk: "The Snakewolf I gave you as a welcoming gift? What about it?" Uja'rak Se'ok: "This "endangered" species is a nuisance in my home. It keeps snarling at Arryn even threatening with it's venomous quills." Wopk Kam'atk: "Wait, don't you have two boys?" Uja'rak Se'ok: "For some reason it doesn't find Ju-On a threat in any capacity. Yes, I too find that weird but at least it is not threatening him in anyway." The Oznat Packmistress agreed with Uja on that. It was weird that a beast aggressive to other males was docile to a non-Alpha. Then again, this boy of Uja's could be an exception. Wopk Kam'atk: "And what do you want me to do with it?" Uja'rak Se'ok: "Neuter, dequill, remove the venom sacks. One or all of those options seems fine with me." Wopk Kam'atk: "I swear you have been observing human culture for too long. It was bad the first time we meet and it has taken you to exactly where I said it would." Uja'rak Se'ok: "I did not come here for you to lecture me Oznat. I came here for results to my predicament." Wopk sighed while rubbing the bridge of her nose. Wopk Kma'atk: "I gave you that animal as a hunting tool. Not a pet!" Uja'rak Se'ok: "You should have told me sooner. I would have declined the gift." Wopk Kam'atk: "You should have known that considering your "heritage"! But it seems you forgot alot about who you are haven't you?" Uja'rak Se'ok: "Just take the beast back!" Wopk Kam'atk: "On one condition...you have to try him out first." Uja'rak Se'ok: "Hunt what on this island?! One of Arryn's eventual stalkers after everyone sees him belly dance?!" Wopk Kam'atk: "One of those "boys" huh?" Uja'rak Se'ok: "Quiet woman!" Wopk Kam'atk: "Oznat! And if you can't say that at least say Zerat!" Suddenly realizing they were being watched the two Morats turned to see Sanjiv Zahir and the Leopard Chimera Zander right beside him. Both males were staring at the two red skinned Morats bickering escalate but now the Punjabi Truma-Doc/Vet decided to intervene. Sanjiv Zahir: "Should I be concerned about this?" He stated in broken english while gazing at the them. Zander: "Boiling rage..." the Chimera uttered in a throaty yet smooth growl. Realizing what Zander was pointing out Uja breathed in and continued his conversation with Wopk. Uja'rak Se'ok: "You're right. I'm sorry for my careless remark." Wopk Kam'atk: "The fault lies with me as well. I need to stop getting fussy over what I'm called now. At least you mastered that part already." Uja'rak Se'ok: "Sometimes silence is the best answer. Explaining in a reserved manner is also fine." Wopk Kam'atk: "Thank you, I'll remember that. Back to what we were talking about, I think you should try the Snakewolf in a violent situation before passing judgement. If you're not satisfied with it's performance then I'll take it back. If you do decided to keep it then I'll make any necessary "changes" to the beast that you seem fit. Deal?" Uja'rak Se'ok: "Deal. I've been asked by Sir Graywulf to join a newly formed band of Mercs for a mission. I can try out this animal in action while on it." Shaking the critter for emphasis. Wopk Kam'atk: "Really? All good then. Hope he "lives" up to your expectations." Uja'rak Se'ok: "Considering how low they are it won't take too much to impress me." The male Morat turned and began walking away with the Snakewolf hanging by it's neck. Wopk Kam'atk: "Uja!!" the Oznat called out. He turned slightly to look back at her. "You tried being nice to it didn't you?" Uja'rak Se'ok: "I did, but when it started to get aggressive and lunge at me then I struck back. It didn't take too many attacks to convince it to stop it's hostile attitude against me." And with that Uja resumed walking while Wopk couldn't help but rub her nose bridge and shaking her head in disapproval.
(OK, done. Oops, had left out a bit about Tony. Ok, now it's really done ) Dreanna felt grateful for Tony's intervention. Her Scene with Miyu had reset her "Time Without an Embarrassing Moment Clock" back to Zero. A fact that a safely invisible Echo reminded her by actually reseting the Clock in Dreanna's face. After momentarily lowering her Firewall and flooding Echo with Pyrotechnics Pop Up Adds it retaliation, Dreanna began to secure the parts that would become her new TAG. She noticed all the fire base weaponry, feeling a tingle that went all the way to the tip of her tail. She didn't know how did Tony get all that High Tech, but made a mental note to thank him somehow. It was then that she noticed the stranger that seemed to have popped out of nowhere. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, as well as a thin line of hairs along the axis of her tail. Every feline fiber in her was telling her this man was dangerous. So, when her eyes went to his strangely curved blade and the "WARNING BIOHAZARD!!!" tag nearly blinded her, it took a supreme effort for her not to jump on top of a Cargo Container and hiss at the Stranger. And then, she saw it... THE BIKE [Insert Theme of The Ring, from The Lord Of The Rings Here] If there was one thing you don't see much in any of the Nomads Motherships is motorcycles. Ever since she saw them in Yu Jing's Japanese Prefectures, Dreanna has been fascinated by them. Forgetting instinct and fear, Dreanna walked closer to the Stranger. "Hi! I'm Dreanna Farabella, a Gecko Pilot Recruit. Is that motorcycle yours? What sort of fuel does it use? Is it Fossil, Electrical or Nuclear? Does it requiere a lot of maintenance? How fast can it go? I've never ridden a motorcycle. Not that I'm asking you to give me a ride. Unless you want to, in which case, that would be swell."
Uja'rak Se'ok: "George?!" the Morat called but no one answered him. He was supposed to meet the Templar here and the time of the ship's arrival was approaching fast. There were things he needed to get done before then and this current situation wasn't helping him one bit. Suddenly Uja felt the need to turn around quickly. Sir George: "Die Devil!!!" Michael: "For the love of God George, Stop!!" Uja sidestepped and delivered an elbow into the helmeted Knight's face. Causing George to stagger like a drunkard. Uja'rak Se'ok: "George we are not doing this again. I already proved myself." Michael: "He is right George. Stop this nonsense and lets conclude our business with him." The Knight looked at his sword then to the Morat then back again. Finally he sheathed the talking blade. Sir George: "I won't question you Michael. God forgive me of my impulses." Uja'rak Se'ok: "I know how that feels. It is hard to break the chains of your former way of thinking." Michael: "Indeed," rang the angelic sounding sword. "Now George the gift..." Sir George reaches behind his back and tosses an object towards Uja who catches it midair. Uja'rak Se'ok: "It looks the same when I left it in your hands." Looking over the tri-star throwing weapon. Sir George: "That is the default form. The weapon is unlocked & fine tuned to your makeup. While can & will be able to be used by others you're currently it's core frequency. Meaning it will be more attuned to your will and movements than others." Michael: "I think you will be pleasantly surprised how well the Vorpal Blade will serve it's new master. In other words you. Practice with it a bit and see for yourself." Uja'rak Se'ok: "I'll have to do that latter. There is a ship coming in to land soon but I don't know exactly when. Graywulf wanted me to take a look at the new Mercenaries on board since he can't currently make it in time." Sir George: "I see. Hope you'll be able to make it on time. As of right now I have things that need tending to..." Michael: "Before we depart, Uja'rak may I have a private word with thee?" Sir George looks at his sword. While Uja can't see his face he can tell that the Knight is puzzled at the sword's request. Michael: "I shan't be long George. This is an important message that God wants him to hear. The matter cannot wait." George nodded as the explanation cleared up any traces of confusion on his end. He then removed the sword & sheath and handed them over to Uja then proceeded to give the two distance. Michael: "Have you ever heard of the tragedy of the Knights Templar?" Uja'rak Se'ok: "Only in passing." Michael: "George was with his brothers that day when the Church & Aleph opened fire upon them. Even though the order used their best efforts to repel the enemy that day it was all for nought. George was the only one of his band of brothers to survive the fighting that day." Uja'rak Se'ok: "You think that has something to do with his absurdity?" Michael: "Putting it lightly I see. Yes, I do believe that is part of the reason why George's mind is currently this way. His obsession of the "Great and Terrible Day of the LORD" may be in part of his desire to see both the Church & Aleph destroyed or at least punished for their crimes. I never knew George before he was like this. I had just came into being before that terrible day occurred. I'm grateful that he at least had the mental capacity to take me with him as he fled for his life. So I wouldn't meet the same fate as the other living weapons." Uja'rak Se'ok: "Thank you for confiding this to me. I'll keep it close..." Michael: "Share it with whomever you like. It is better for a story to be told than to hide it in darkness." Uja'rak Se'ok: "Michael..the goal of the E.I. is transcendence. It wants to reach a higher plan of existence and you can see what lengths it will go to achieve this. What are your thoughts on that?" There was silence between the two and just when Uja thought that he wouldn't be answered the sword once again began to speak. Michael: "While I don't know the reasoning why the E.I. would want this, I'm assuming that you don't know yourself..." The Morat nodded his head in agreement. "Even if this intelligence succeeded it would realize that it was all for nought. When it sees the existence of God it will wish to be like him and that desire will end up destroying it. My guess is that this program will never accomplish it's goal for that reason alone. It is destined to wage war until someone destroys it or it will destroy itself." "May I ask a question? What is your race's thoughts on this?" Uja'rak Se'ok: "The Morat race could care less about the E.I.'s goals. We were one of the few races that fought against the Ur forces and were absorbed into the Combined Army. We had to be brought low before we finally broke. It is still a shame and a spot upon our existence that we wish to be rid of but the Ur have made it difficult to break our fetters. If the day comes that the E.I. dies and Morats are set free..it is my belief that the power vacuum left by the Combined Forces will be filled by the Morat race. Continuing the conquests that the species as a whole has participated for hundreds of years only this time it will be for their own glory and martial pride not slavery. It is the lesser of two different evils." Michael: "Thought provoking. I'll pass your words onto George and see what his reaction will be. Though I doubt with his current state of mind that anything less than wishing for both forces ruination in the near future will be his opinion. Still feel free to stop by anytime you wish. Perhaps we can help you in other ways." And with that Uja walked to where Goerge was standing afar off and handed him back the sword. After retrieving the sentient blade Sir George went on his way to God knows where. Meanwhile Uja returned to where the Snakewolf was waiting for him after he told the beast to stay put least George got any ideas about slaying the tiny dragon. Uja'rak Se'ok: "Glad to see you remained where I left you." The dragon tilted it's head at towards it's master. "We need to get going. There are some chores I need to finish before the ship arrives. Hopefully we can greet these newcomers as they land." And with that the Morat turned on his heels to begin walking in a certain direction. The Snakewolf following suit, knowing better than to lag behind an Alpha Male.
The Dogwarrior Alistair Mc Elliott stopped breathing heavily and relaxed a little (even in the heightened “Hunter Killer Sensorial” state of the Lupine Battleform) and observed mildly interested that Dr. Fatymah opened the Armor-Plexiglass Doors of the Combat Test Cage and entered fearlessly, almost eagerly, the place strewn with wrecked Android Junked Hulks. . . Its Personal Geist “Galahad” noticed that in an amused tone that the gorgeous Haqqislamite Woman of Royal Heritage had a Subconscious Subroutine active that fired on as soon as the Noble Hunzakut entered the Test Cage. . . The enhanced sensorial smell-sense of the Wolfhound Snout of Alistair gave detailed information that the Geist filtered through the Com-Log Database; apparently the beautiful, dark-skinned Professor native of Bourak had some “Odalisque Styled” Pheromone-Emitting Glands installed. . . But rather than the I-Kohl Chemical Biotech employed to suborn willpower of a Combat Target, these were a sort of softer, subtler “Calming Balms” kind of Pheroware Perfume; evidently being a Gene-Engineer specialized in Non-Human Physiology and installing Cyberware on Animals needed some sort of “Innate Safeguard Precautions” for a too exhuberant approach. . . And Galahad added that not only calming pheromones were present in the sweet “Scent of Womanhood” of Fatymah, but also some slight “Hidden Flavour” of excitation, happyness and EVEN arousal; it was not so immediatly evident, due to the natural olive tone of the Mediterranean Skin of the Haqqislamite, further enhanced by frequent sunbathings in the various beaches around New Knossos Island, but Her cheecks were flushed and blustery. . . On a more serious note Galahad noticed that this behaviour was uncharacteristic as the Public Arachne-Space Profile evinced; probably the astounding success of the Prototype Teseum Cyberarm and some “Manly Appeal” (or better “Wolf-Manly Appeal”) of Alistair had somehow “Triggered” an unusual response in a normally reserved and demure Woman of another Culture. . . After a last warning to STILL behave as the Noble Scion Heir of the proud, honourable Mac Elliot Clan (and a chuckling notice of how similar their Aristocratic Heritage was. . .!!) then the Geist let Alistair reigning itself WITHOUT recurring the “Emergency Chem-Failsafes” that the Advanced Biocomputer of the Com-Log could have released in its very bloodstream. . . “Sir Mc Elliott-Effendi ! What a splendid demonstration of controlled rage and warrior prowess. . . . .Even My most rosy predictions are exceeded !! Did You felt the Artificial Arm totally natural ? How was the response of the Neuralware Cyber-Synapses ?? Some kind of Negative Feedback Impulse or nothing at all ???” “Also I marvel at the. . . . .Smoothness of the integration between the Extra Body Mass of Your Dogwarrior Form and the Memory-Metals of the Alloyed Teseum. . . . .!!” And by saying so Professor Fatymah summoned an Holographic Display of the Datas obtained in the Combat Cage, with some added Infodumps by H.I.V.E.M.I.N.D. that dispassionately noticed that Alistair “Level of Combat Effectiveness” was SUPERIOR of 32,16274 % of other Melee Centric Dogwarriors between the Minotaurs Mercenaries. . . After this extracted a Sensory Pen and started (very GENTLY) to poke and prod the semi-scarred flsehy tissue between the Organic Parts of the Shoulder and Upper Torso Armpit of the Caledonian Soldier and where the Teseum-Alloyed Metals of the Cyberarm started. . . Alistair noticed too that for the Haqqislamite Scientist there was not evident change in behaviour when checking (almost in a caressing way) the Artificial Limb or the Living. . .Breathing. . .Pulsing. . .Sweating. . . Fur-Covered Flesh of the Mc Elliot Scion; it was refreheshing to know a Woman that not only did NOT felt ANY repulsion towards the enormous Lycanthropic Werecreature towering over Her, but also had NONE whatsoever qualms towards Artificial Prostethic Limbs. . . A sudden Howling Sound resounded amidst the aseptic strobe lights of the Medical Wings Labs and Alistair and Fatymah puzzledly looked at where the Wulver Doctor Hannah was checking on a HEAVILY Cybernetized Antipode Elder. . . The relatively pathethic crature (nicknamed “Cybermane” as totally furless and with Bionic Wire-Like glowing fibers implanted between shoulders an neck) was the result of terrible experiments wrought by the devious, sadistic Praxis Black Labs “Monster Makers” of the vile Malfeas Module; apparently they have taken away Organs and Whole Limbs from the hapless Antipode Captive with the diead of grafting them to peculiarly crazed Chimera Gladiator Slaves) to replace with second-hand Artificial Bodyparts. . . Alistair had yet heard a similar howl, many times in the Minotaurs' Kennels (hold in check by the Biker Gangers); it was done by a “Lonewolf Antipode” left in a semi-animalistic state by the alck of other two “Parts” of a Pack (as Three were needed to be a complete “Individual Sentient” with human-like levels of Cognization and Intelligence) to ask for being admitted in a “New Whole”. . . And the scarred creature was instead aiming that “Howled Supplication” surely at Alistair, and compounded it by rolling on the back and exposing the vulnerable throat and belly; it was unmistakably a “Beta Antipode” expressing submission towards Who was clearly hinted to be the “Dominant Alpha”. . . But Alistair could not interpretate overmuch the puzzled, bemused expressions of Doctor Hannah and Professor Fatymah as a “Maximum Priority Communication” was forwarded by the Com-Log on the Minotaurs Tactical Channels. . . The grizzled face of Lord Grey Graywulf, Caledonian High Commander of the Minotaurs and ALSO the “Oathbound Sword-Sire” to which the Mac Elliotts were “Sworn Thanes” in Clan Politics and “Shield Brothers” on the Battlefield, appeared in the Spherical Holoscreen generated by the wrist mounted Com-Log of Alistair (housed inside a Teseum Reinforced Plate and kept in place by expanding / contracting Kevlar-Spandex bands). . . The stern look of Lord Grey (whose left half of the face was covered by a 100% Pure Teseum Faceplate, in which an artificial ye glowed an angry, bloody red) miollified a little when focalizing on the Caledonian Dogwarrior. . . “Lieutenant McElliott ! Lad, I'm very glad to see that the New Arm is working perfectly !! As a fellow “Ex-One Armed Bandit” I know intimately how much. . . . .”WHOLE”. . . . oneself will feel with a well-functioning Combat Prosthethic Cyberlimb !!!” “I need to have You at My side when the Shuttle with the New Recruits will arrive ! Not only as a Field Officer, but because those will be Your New Squad to command !! Your obnoxious Grandfather is continuously pestering Me by asking to give You responsibility of “Warriors Of Your True Mettle” and now, finally, I could second the desires of Who was My First Commander in the Mormaers. . .!!!” “There is ABSOLUTELY No Need to revert back to Dogface !! You will give a far more impressing “First Look Experience” as You are !! Collect the rest of Your Wargear and Field Uniform and join Me at the Command Compund to assess the last tedious burocratic details. . . . .!!!” Professor Fatymah silently backed behind a little when other Humandroid Drones commandereed by the Mercenary Resident A.I. (and far less dented and pitted than the “Crash Test Dummy” ones so quickly defeated by Alistair) to help with the completion of Combat Regalia Dressing. . . A Dogwarrior-Sized Flak Jcket (with Extra Kevlar Plaes in vital spots) was adjusted to the hulking frame of the 3mts. high “Werewolf Soldier” and a belt with an enormous Americolt Revolver and a Highlands Dirk-Shaped “Army Dagger” was affixed to the quite wide girth of Alistair while Ammo Pouches and Utility Pockets were linked to various Belts of the Uniform, along with a Sawed-Off Assault Rifle without Stock, that in the enormous grasp of the Caledonian seemed as puny as a Small Caseless Machinepistol. . . Finally were presented the new Heirloom Blade of the Mac Elliotts, reforged by the Clan Smiths when Alistair battle-prowess had become evident; the Cleft-Bladed Gigantic Claymore of 100% Pure Teseum was capable of cleaving in twain an Hyperpower Heavy Infantry Suit and even perforate easily Tank Armour, affixed to a specialized hook on the High Back. . . And, last but not least, the customized Molotok Automatic Heavy Rifle, with a far longer barrell than usual and a twin-drums enlarged ammo box (and whose ergonomics were thought more for a Dogwarrior-Sized Soldier than a normal Human). . . . .!!!
