---

Rigger awoke slowly, his eyes peeling open as he raised himself from slumber methodically. He briefly surveyed his room, to ensure all was as it was left. The room was almost entirely barren, save for one wall. On the wall were rather crudely drawn portraits of his fellow pickers, as well as the captain, lieutenant, and pilot. Next to these pictures were sheets upon sheets of hastily scribbled notes, detailing behavior, likes, dislikes, and various observations. Having been roused by the Captain's rather grating voice, Riggs slowly walked over to the Captains portrait, and thumbed briefly through his notes on the Villianian. Raising his head to look around, Riggs could feel a familiar warm surge from the rooms around him -conscious connections were quickly springing to life. Annoyance, with what seemed to be a tinge of fear in some, could be felt palpably from all the crew members around him. Rigger widened his eyes in an expression that could most easily be related to a smirk as he walked out of his small room, heading for the commons room.

While the sudden end of his sleep was annoying at best, Rigger knew better than to argue with the Captain. Riggs didn't particularly mind in the end -his race didn't need as much sleep as many others, and he himself was used to sleepless nights in his planning. As he walked through the halls of the ship, he seemed to glide rather than visibly walk, his movements all smooth and calculated. He took his time, shifting from side to side through the hallway as he passed beneath the periodically blinking lights.

Riggs stood still momentarily before the door of the commons room, allowing it time to open with a harsh hiss. Before he stepped through the door, he surveyed the room momentarily -it appeared that he was the first arrival, save for the Captain. He walked in, slowing his pace even further. Like a vulture over prey, Riggs circled the meal table in a wide sweep, his eyes shifting quickly all throughout the room, drinking in as much detail as he could. Finally he stopped walking, coming to a stop opposite of the Captain at the table. He stayed standing, bird-like eyes focused intensely on the Captain. A lack of needing to breathe made Rigger eerily still as he stared down the Captain, wordless. He could feel a weak connection from Captain Askel, reaching out to the pilot. Difficult to read, Riggs pinned the connection down to either blatant apathy, hatred, or possibly respect?

"Raised by my own damn race, and I can't even read her connections properly." Rigger chided himself mentally. Then, he considered that very fact may be the reason her connections were so dull and vague to him -nevertheless, he kept his gaze steady, as his pupils grew with curiosity. Wordless, his arms slowly fell to his sides

---

It had been quite in the cockpit so far Nine having left the ship on autopilot for several hours while she took a little snooze. A common act given Nine basically lived in the cockpit being the ships sole pilot. So to see her asleep at the helm letting the autopilot pull it weight was not uncommon. Although it was mainly during Phase jumps and Nine didn't feel like socializing with the pickers.
Sadly for Nine her little nap was interrupted by the captain coming up the hall to the cockpit, waking Nine up form her slumber.
The Ukai made it her mission to look busy as the captain entered the cockpit, even if the ship was in Phase Space and there was little for Nine to do. If she looked like she was working there was a high chance the captain would leave her be, sadly today was not one of those days. As Askel came into the room and ordered Nine to change course.
"What? That cesspool? Fine ... but if the ship get stripped for parts, its your fault and I won't stick around if it does." Nine stated in her kinds normal monotone, obeying the captains orders as she pulled the ?ship out of FTL and adjusted the heading. Bring the ship to a stop, Nine tapped at the panel before her the ship starting to hum in response as the ships phase drive started to charge for another jump. Nine looking at the captain as she made her little address to the rest of the rest inhabitants and crew. Nine wondering if it had been about that discovery one of the picks had found.

Truth be told Nine already knew one of the pickers had found something and since then Askel had been kept whatever it was a secret. So much so she had been disabling the security camera's more then normal, annoying Nine as she had to keep fixing the system. Askel address was done and told Nine to stay in the cockpit, Nine out of defiance stood up out of her seat.
"No I want to know what you aliens are up to and you disabled the security systems in the commons room. So I must attend in person. Plus if you don't tell me we'll never got to Nomad in one piece, the Nemo nebula requires a good pilot to navigate. Unless you like flying around in circles with lowlifes laughing out you. Also you ordered everyone to the commons room, which includes me. Would hate to disobey my captain." Nine stated folding her arms glaring at the captain form under her googles. At the captains remark about being kept in the dark, Nine doing what her race would call a frown.
"Just because your scared of the dark, or is it you don't like because you can't dance in it?" Nine stated in her racial monotone, which didn't give a trace of emotion. Nine feeling a little glee throwing fact around she knew something the captain liked but denied, having caught her in the act once or twice. Keeping several recordings of said act hidden and scattered around the ship.

Nine turned back and tapped a button on the ships helm station. The ship faint hum growing a little louder as power freely flowed into the phase drive.
"All hands, prepare for phase jump." Nine stated over the intercom, moments before the ship made a horrible lurch forward has began to accelerate to FTL speeds while it slipped out of real space. She didn't have to make the announcement, but it was a habit ingrained in her from her military years. So every time the ship entered phase space she made it without fail. With that done she tapped a single button which turned the autopilot and another to lockout the consol. No longer needed her Nine turned to the captain and gestured for her to lead the way, determined to find out what was going on. Waiting for Askel to start walking, Nine followed the captain keeping a small distance.

Once at the commons room Nine prompted herself against a wall near the door she had entered form.
As she started to wait for the others, Nine noticed the picker Rigger was already here. Nine giving him a slight nod to the head before going back to waiting, lacking anything else to do until the other showed.

Z was running through a jungle. It was dark, the trees dripped with rains that smelt like copper and the ground squelched beneath their bare clawed feet. They look up into the canopy - a thousand eyes stare back, reflecting red in the guttering flame of the torch that they hold lofted above their head. Underfoot the ground gives way to bog, still they press on. The bog gives way to a mangrove swamp, still they press on. The water closes above their head - everything turns to black.

The waves crash on the shore as they all pour from the landing craft into the noon sun. As they thrash their way through the water, the alien next to Z turns to them and smiles a wide, gleeful smile. Suddenly the smile is gone - there is a hole where it used to be. Suddenly the air is filled with bullets and fire. The alien blinks twice before crashing down into the surf, its three black legs folding beneath it gracelessly. Z turns back towards the beach and begins to charge forward, firing into the tree line.

They are all here, all their siblings - they are whole. Z looks up with up through nine hundred pairs of eyes at the Holy Ones. They shine with a golden light as the purple sky around them crackles with red lightning. They surge forward to meet the Gods...

And then Z wakes up.


"This is your Captain speaking, I want everybody in the commons room immediately. Come or be absent, but don't be late. I'm locking the door after five minutes."

The crackle of the intercom rang out in the warm animal darkness of Z's quarters and brought them out of past. They rolled onto their side and tried to curl up into a ball to escape reality. But it was already fading. They wanted to go back, they wanted to return to... gone. They lay there in the darkness willing sleep back, knowing it was better than anything that would be found outside the confines of the small lonely nest they had constructed for themselves. The nest smelt of Zeruuli, it smelt like family, but Z knew there was no family here - they were alone.

For moment it smelled like sleep would return, but then the tannoy buzzed again with a monotone voice. It was so annoying.

"All hands, prepare for phase jump."

The ship lurched and Z's eyes snapped open, glowing orange with a dim sickly light from deep inside. They were awake now. The heap of filthy rags that was piled up onto their bunk fell apart as they emerged. From the top of the pile, they selected one particularly stained and tattered piece and began to pluck at it with their long clawed fingers. Closer inspection would reveal it to be a standard issue grey penal jumpsuit, but this one was so unwashed and dirty it was hard to tell. The necked had been ripped open wide to allow the Zeruuli to wriggle their impressive bulk inside. Similarly the sleeves had been torn off at the shoulders to exposed the great slabs of scared and tattooed muscle that Z called arms.

The automatic motion sensing lighting did not turn on as they stood, Z had destroyed that long ago. The only light in the room came from a single cracked viewing screen that sat on the floor in the corner, facing the bed at an angle. It was tuned to static - the volume was turned up.

From the flicking and shifting light the screen emitted some of the the darkened room could be seen. Much of the walls, floor and ceiling were hidden beneath a layer of mucus like slime that clung to it in a thick globs and patches. It was Zeruuli bile - the substance that formed the species reproductive cocoons, and also came to coat their nests when they were left in one place long enough. Heaps of trash adorned the floor, rotting food, empty bottles and smashed glass. None of this disturbed the leathern soles of Z's feet as they made their away to the door and slunk out into the corridor outside.

They lumbered along beneath the blinking lights, claws clacking on the metal grilled floors towards the central common room where they normally ate. When the door hissed open they were surprised to see it so empty - normally they were the last to arrive for breakfast, but there was only the captain, the pilot and Riggs. They were equally surprised when they realised that the table was not laid for eating.

"No food..." They said in a low hiss, and looked from side to side before remembering that it wasn't actually time for food yet. Warily they stepped into the common room and sprawled their bulk down on the floor in the corner closest to the Pilot. They did not mind the pilot. The captain was alright too, but they made them do work. Riggs they regarded with a hostile unblinking stare. They did not like Riggs, that one's mind moved to fast for Z.

---

For a moment the commons room was quiet—although it was never truly silent on a ship, the lights were on low, the main monitor was blank, and the oversized refrigerator hummed along on standby. The Excursionist was a quiet enough ship in the middle of the artificial night, except on the rare occasion when there were a bunch of drunk aliens listening to invariably terrible music at full blast and no one got any sleep.

Then the intercom crackled with the Captain's voice, and the hush was further broken by a loud crash as the heavy central table jolted, followed by a gravel-rough voice spitting curses.

"Hashfed shattin' tchytkis—"

There was a low stream of invective, curses ranging from mild to nauseating, as chairs were shoved to the side and Pax emerged. It was quite a sight, a seven foot bright red monstrosity extracting itself from under a table built for much smaller creatures, but she managed to crawl out on her hands and knees, sliding out between Rigger and the newly arrived Z.

"Fuckin' A," Pax hissed, hand on the smooth scales of her head as she unfolded to her full height. She ignored the others as she continued to mutter to herself, making a beeline for the small kitchen off to one side. She smelled like a distillery, but there was no trace of any booze under the table or anywhere else in the kitchen—if there was one thing Pax knew well, it was hiding the evidence of her benders. She scratched at her nose as she dug inside the fridge, eventually emerging with what looked like a gallon bottle of disgusting green slime—what passed for protein ration on the Picker ship.

She sat heavily in an empty chair, a few spots down from Z and across from Rigger and the Captain. The chair creaked under her and squealed as she shoved it back, having to bend nearly in half just to put her elbows on the table—for once, she didn't envy the fishboy his size. A yawn split her face as she popped the top off her morning ration, her gold-yellow pointed teeth gleaming in the slowly brightening lights.

After taking a swig from the gallon, she began with a belch. As usual.

"Since I'm not late," Pax went on, wrapping an arm around the gallon jug—she had plenty of experience with Z's appetite, thank you—and propping her cheek on her other hand. "Why the tchyt are we awake?"

I witness. I obey. I am a dutiful Child.

There was no light in the pressurized tank that Grick called home - he liked it that way. Apparently it was common in the ships of aliens to have a few rooms 'prepared' in the event that a crewmember needed special accommodation, and Grick lived in one such room. From the door, it looked just like any other room - inside, however, it bottomed out into a pool of dark water, with no furnishings save a waterproof bed bolted to the floor in a corner. Spartan, perhaps, but Grick did not mind it.

Sweet Father, I am blind, I am lost.

Grick was floating in the dark, his arms clasped around his body, his mind heavy with thoughts of humans. He hadn't known the relevance of what he'd found the day before, not really; he had no idea the look that would come over Captain Ak'sel's voice when he brought it to her, when it relayed its message to the two of them. In truth, the message had mattered little to him. There were all kinds of aliens out there, and Grick would be lying if he said he cared overmuch about the humans. No, what was bothering him was the reaction it had caused from the captain. He hated to be a source of distress for Ak'sel.

Grant me sight. Grant me -

Two impacts cracked into the wall, reverbrating throughout the pool and causing Grick to double up in pain. The walls of his room were shared with a hallway of the ship, and some of the inmates who wanted to mess with "The Fish" were fond of knocking against them, being well aware of his room's acoustics. It was his burden to bear.

Just then the speaker above him crackled to life and the Captain's summons played. Filled with trepidation, the Child of the Deep grabbed his mask from where it floated next to him, affixed it to his face, and pulled himself out of the water and through the doorway.

Grick lumbered towards the common room slowly, only tripping up once as the ship entered phase jump. He arrived to find several of his fellow Pickers already there, and nodded to each of them in turn in a traditional Child greeting. "Rigger. Paxyntrotka. Zeethree'fivesevenonetwo. I hail you, and pray you have been well."

At Pax's question, the Child of the Deep wiggled his hand-tentacles in a common gesture of nervousness. "I fear I may be to blame for this meeting, Paxyntrotka. I found... well, the Captain will explain."

---

(This isn't remotely a surprise)
Ven had been renewing his bandages before the announcement came. He had barely sensed a change in the wind of a few of his crew mates, as well as the Captain herself. He had taken into consideration the fact that he couldn't usually sense such changes unless he was actively looking for them, like when engaged in hand-to-hand combat with an Aneath, or just someone who didn't know enough about wind to mask theirs while moving or fighting. Therefore, it was obvious that whatever change was coming needed at least some preparation, even something he probably should have done several months ago. Still, embarking on whatever was going to happen next required a form of symbolism, like he had been taught when his 'father' (And some "friends") bothered to talk about the Veslin culture he had never really been a part of. New bandages would have to do for the symbolism.

When the ship lurch, his head flew back and he hit it on the wall "Fuck!" He groaned in pain and finished up wrapping his hand. Ignoring his throbbing head, he stood up from his spot on the floor of his messy room. He had given up some time ago on keeping it neat and tidy; nobody was going to care, if anybody even ever came into his room. He had a lofted bed, and usually spent his time on the floor underneath it, either bored out of his mind (Waiting for anything, or even nothing), planning whatever he needed to do next on his various 'notebooks' (In touch-oriented Veslin writing, of course), or simply a miscellaneous activity that the Captain had charged him to complete for one reason or another. He had things scattered about here and there, not too worried about his writings since none of the crew ever bothered to care about it, bandages stacked in a corner for the rare times he needed to change them (Or put off changing them), some Veslin artifacts he had managed to keep-which were actually on a shelf, since he actually cared whether they were damaged or not.

His jacket and boots were not currently on him, and he hurried to get them on so as to keep within the time frame allotted by the Captain before she would get angry. He had become accustomed to getting clothes over his bandages in a hurry, so they weren't ruined by the time he had zipped his boots to his pants and his jacket over his chest. He left his poncho under his bed; he doubted they were going anywhere especially harmful for him. He left his room, briskly walking down the hallway to the commons room. He had gotten used to the layout of the ship not too long after coming on-he was pretty good at direction in general, as a Veslin-so it wasn't hard to join up with the group, despite his lack of eyesight added with the complications in the ship.

He came into the commons room and quickly knew who was there. Nearly everyone. It was a little awkward, being one of the last to show up, but he was able to hide any slight apprehension he had, as was usual. He sat down on one of the available seats, crossing his legs and showing that he was ready for whatever the Captain had wanted to tell them. "We ready to begin yet?" He knew the next few moments could easily change quite a lot, though in what way or direction he had no idea. The wind was fickle like that.

The Captain was speaking again, something about meeting all the sapients in the common area. This roused Cú from his slumber, pulling him from a memory dream of THESOUNDOFTHEPACKSHOWLCHILLINGTHEHOUNDTOTHECORETHEHUNTBEGANLONGAGOLASERSBULLETBLOODNOPLEASESTOPTHEACRIDSCENTOFBURNINGFLESHFILLSMYNOSTRILS
and from his position of curling in a ball on his stomach, with his limbs tucked in. Snapping to alertness, the clone uncurled himself from his position on the ground. He had fallen asleep reading a data pad, a work titled "Living in the ruins of the Self: A study of the effect of the increased Galaxilization of the economy on the psyche of various sapient races and their sense of self" by some professor that Cú had followed after his release from the clutches of the Teufelshunde's War Court. He had found the professor's ideas in a trash can, where he had been scrounging for food. He remembered himself back then. Young, broken, lost, searching for a new cause to follow. While Cú still considered himself neither mature nor unlost, the work had set the seed of the idea that the Teufelhunde did not need to follow another to have a purpose.

Yawning wildly, Cú sniffed the air, tasting the air around him. Old, stale and recycled, the Teufelshunde nearly growled at the unnatural taste and scent, before reigning himself in. He had lost enough of his freedom following his instincts, and if their was anything that Cú hated more than bowing to another was cats. "No, wait, that's not right," Cú thought as he left his room, scratching himself with his clawed digits, "Well, whatever, it's still something I hate."

The thick, calloused digits on Cú's right hand rose to stretch over the Teufelshunde's limber frame, resting on his left shoulder. The arm brushed past the metal torc that Cú cursed everyday as a symbol of his reliance and deference to others. Scratching his left shoulder, the Teufelshunde walked down the hallway to the common area, padded feet letting Cú slide silently to his destination.

The passage's metal walls chilled the Teufelshunde, making him shiver slightly at the cold metal kissed the pads of his feet. For two years Cú had worked on similar ships, but still the cold lifeless corridors scared the hound. The feeling of lonesomeness, the aloofness of non-biological materials disagreed with the social needs the hound had felt his instincts pushing himself to in the past. Ignoring the sense of crushing loneliness that threatened to overcome him, Cú pushed on, closer to the entrance of the common area. As he came closer to the door, he began to feel a wrongness permeate his being, different from the feeling he had just pushed away.

"Have I forgotten something?" the hound asked himself as he walked into the common area, where the rest of the crew had already arrived. As he stood there in the doorway, in front of his captain and fellow pickers, it dawned on Cú what the wrongness he had felt was.

"Shit, I sleep naked"

---

---

---

---

---

---

---

As Riggs stared down the Captain, he heard the intercom spark to life again rather unexpectedly. "All hands, prepare for phase jump." His pupils shrunk to small dots in the center of his eyes as he began moving, in preparation. As calculated as his gliding steps always were, Riggs shifted position two steps to the left, away from the table, and placed his feet one in front of the other as he leaned forward. When the ship jolted in it's acceleration, Riggs was propelled backwards, spinning with a sort of elegance as he planned. He raised his right arm to catch himself on a cupboard on the wall of the commons room, his spinning momentum causing the cupboard to swing open as he grasped it.

Riggs eyes searched through the cupboard, narrowing until he found what he was looking for. He was glad that he had positioned himself correctly -if he hadn't found what he had been looking for in this cupboard the entire maneuver would've just been awkward. He turned from the cupboard, allowing it to swing shut, emerging with a pure white metal bottle in one hand. As he walked back to his previous position, opening the bottle, he noticed the pilot's entrance to the room, nodding. Riggs curtly returned the nod, before turning back to the Captain. Nine was one of the most respectable he had come to know on the ship so far, not just considering the fact that she was not criminal scum like the rest of the pickers. No, he respected Nine because he saw himself in her -she was one of the few others on the ship who relied not on brute close quarters skill, but rather a special honed prowess of another sort.

As the cap popped off of his bottle, a scent akin to bleach drifted out. Riggs took a deep swig of the cleaning fluid in the bottle, before capping the bottle and resting it again on the table. His eyes once again widened as he looked at the Captain, his mouth resting in the telltale Corvidaen grin. The Captain he still had torn feelings about. Though he had a predisposition to oppose authority and Askel could be abrasive at times, he admired her tenacity at times.

He stumbled back, startled, as the table shifted, and Pax emerged. Riggs' eyes narrowed, and he slid back, subconsciously moving towards the wall near Nine. He embraced the dimmer light happily, his contrasting florescent tattoos standing out even more. As the Trakqian hunched down into a sitting position, Riggs regained his composure, standing straight as he gave a wordless nod to the towering beast of an alien. Riggs was not a fan of wildcards, and the seemingly always drunken Pax certainly fit that bill -at least by his own standards. Rigg's rather versatile eyelids raised up from the bottom and contracted slightly at the sides, a subtle expression known by those close to the Corvidae as a type of smug superiority.

The expression only became more pronounced as he felt an ice cold connection form directly with himself, a familiar feeling. It was quickly followed by an expected hiss of a voice from behind. "No food..." Riggs didn't need to turn around to know that Z was making his entrance. As the heavy footsteps made a plodding course to the corner near the pilot, Riggs moved back once again to his original position. He turned his head briefly, his left eye focusing on the scarred mound of flesh. The hostility Z felt for Riggs was palpable, and not just because his race could feel emotional connections. Nevertheless, Riggs didn't bother addressing the beast -nothing he could say would change the feeling.

Though the Corvidaen had kept a smug look on his face for the most part since his entrance to the room, his expression fell to neutrality, as he listened to Pax speak. "Since I'm not late, why the tchyt are we awake?" He smiled at the crass vulgarity of the alien, akin to his own speech patterns in a sense. His expression changed once more, his spines straightening as he heard a familiar greeting from behind. He turned to face Grick, respectfully bowing his head as he quietly returned the greeting. He turned his attention once again to the rest of the room, still standing.

"I fear I may be to blame for this meeting, Paxyntrotka. I found... well, the Captain will explain." This piqued Riggs curiosity, and he leaned forward to hear what the captain had to say about Grick's peculiar find. His tattoos flared, shifting to new positions as his eyes widened. Before the Captain spoke, he heard another voice entering the room -almost late, it appeared.

"We ready to begin yet?" the voice of Ven could be heard, as he took a seat. A general feeling of apprehension radiated from him into the room. Riggs held back a chuckle -the Veslin's poker face was uncannily effective on most of the crew, but his Corvidaen intuition was not something so easily fooled.

Just as Riggs refocused his attention on the captain, he was rather rudely interrupted one final time. Possibly the last interruption, unless he was forgetting another crewmember (which happened more frequently than he'd like to admit. "Have I forgotten something?" Came the distinctive voice of Cú. Before Riggs fully turned his head, the canine followed with another astute observation, "Shit, I sleep naked." Using his better judgement, Riggs immediately snapped his head to face away from Cú, chuckling out loud this time. "This is what happens when idiocy plays at intellect." Riggs murrmered to himself loudly enough to be heard by Cú, but quiet enough to where it was unlikely for all but the most socially inept to make a scene calling him out on it.

Finally, the Captain spoke, after harshly putting Cú in line. This made Riggs narrow his eyes in a smug happiness. However, the Corvidaen stayed silent throughout the entirety of Aksel's speech, pausing for a minute after she finished to take it all in. This insane plan of hers was at is base, complete subordination and abuse of her power. Snatching away what all the pickers had worked so far. He very much wanted to argue against it, to rally a mutiny. Well, a mutiny that wasn't staged. But deep in his gut, he felt something more compelling -the Council killing off an entire race? The implications alone were staggering. Something urged Riggs to follow his gut feeling, that there was a deep-seated injustice in the Council that made this insanity plausible.

Riggs made up his mind. Taking this path, almost a suicide mission, justice would be served one way or another under his guiding hand. Though he stood for the plan, he said nothing, simply electing to take another swig of cleaning fluid. He needn't voice his support -the Captain had clearly made up her mind on the plan and there would be no dissuasion on that front, and he of all the crew was least suited to bruise up the captain, hell, he'd be lucky to bruise an apple. So he waited, observing, planning, and trying to figure out how the fuck they were going to make this travesty of a plan come together properly.

---

As the rest of the ships inhabitants entered the common room, Nine began to watch in perfect silence. The scene playing out before her eyes like a in holo-vid, Nine watching every action in case of a threat Nine ready to draw her pistol at a moment notice. To some it might be offensive or aggravating, but to Nine it was just her people way and hers to a lesser degree. The Ukai where distrustful of all even long standing allies even the Galactic Counsel, something they had helped establish a long time ago. Watching as the pickers came into one by one Nine felt her twin hearts to begin beat harder, especially when Cu entered the room the humanoid canine came marching in nude. The idea of being on a ship with something that was remotely canine made Nine's fur stand on end. Being a clone didn't help him either, Nine seeing the product of a needle as a lesser being with no honor.
"Filthy creature, as it no shame." she thought as the captain ordered Cu to sit down even though he was naked. Nine looking away in disgust, how does one forget to put on pants.

As Aksel began to explain the situation Nine eyes went wide with surprise, not expecting what Aksel had been hiding was a recording of a human talking about... well Nine didn't even have the faints idea. Thew fact only this had been found and still in some sort of working order amazed Nine, given humans had been gone long before any for their lifetimes. All Nine knew about human as they where recorded as extinct to her kind, other then that they where an utter mystery whatever info the empire had it wasn't shared with the people. So to see something that show might contradict that was interesting, but also very concerning. Given information was meant accessible to all with the empire.

It was what came next was the real uprise, as Aksel explained she had spoken to the council who wanted the chip simply to destroy it. That alone was odd, making Nine wonder why. As Aksel explained her game plan Nine shuttered, going to Nomad was not something she was looking forward to. Nine having been their several times over the centuries of her life, given demand for decent pilots was always high provided you didn't ask question and could hold your own in a fight. Still if wanted to buy weapon Nomad was the place to do it, provided you knew how the market on Nomad worked or better yet knew someone. When it was mentioned by the captain they where not selling her into slavery and looked at Nine, she made what her kind would call a mock shocked face.
" Would never dream of it captain." Nine stated meaning it for the most part, even if she hated the captain slavery was a dishonorable practice. Something Nine felt should be abolished and slavers should fed to starving Zeluuri.

When the captain asked for someone to rough her up, Nine's tail flicked the idea of asking some to do that was really just crazy. Being said Nine wished she could do it, but knew she lacked the physical strength to even leave a mark. That and Nine was sure she'd say no anyway. So while that was being sorted out Nine let her mind try to process everything, being the decision was not a small one. What bothered Nine while she owed the captain a debt, this was something Nine felt this went far beyond what she owed. Given this would not only make her an outlaw she her own kind would most likely see her a traitor.
"When she told me to stay in repayment, this was not what I was expecting. Ancestors... I'm going to have a word with that Villianian." Nine muttered softly to herself glaring at Aksel form under her goggles. For now thought she going along with it and talk to the captain about it next time the two where alone. Nine always trying to be respectful of her piston in front of the pickers, after all the captain of a picker ship needed to have authority to keep the riff raff inline.

Trying to process everything the captain just told them and decided for them Nine sat down on the floor. Resting her head on the wall, she took a deep breath.
"Ancestors, is this what you want of me? To help Aksel find these Humans? Please provide me with guidance so I may walk the correct path." she muttered to herself hoping that they would provide her with guidance as she was unsure what to make of all this.

---

The silence that followed the Captain's announcement was punctuated by a long slurp. Pax took her time with a gulp from her ration, her eyes narrowed and fixed on Aksel even as she tilted her head back, cutting herself off mid-grumble about how if Grick mispronounced her name one more time she'd show him just where his vocal cords lacked. She drank, she set the jug back on the table, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and then she spoke up.

"No offense, Cap," Pax started in a drawling tone clearly meant to offend, "And it hurts me, deep in my soul, to turn down an opportunity to beat the shit out of anyone—but what the fuck are you thinking?"

She slouched forward even more, on hand smashed against her cheek and the other raised up, one of her two thumbs stuck straight out.

"First of all, you're assuming the crew won't flip out and actually mutiny after this, which...you know what they say about assumptions. We're all here because we were offered an opportunity to cut our sentences in half. If we wanted to be jailbirds, we would be. I don't much care either way, just a heads up for a shiv in your spine."

Another thumb out. "Second of all, I love Nomad, great place, the fish rolls in Shangri Ward are delicious, but I can also guarantee that if we make noise about our dramatic mutiny as soon as we dock, we'll attract way more attention than if we just shut up about it. Do you really think a band of mutineers would mouth off about it to just anyone? Not fuckin' likely. Better bet to just stay quiet."

Pax sat back, her long legs kicked out in front of her in a sprawl that she somehow managed to make look disrespectful. A finger extended. "Third, there's no way we're touching down on Nomad without someone noticing something, mutiny or not, and odds are good that that someone is willing to sell what they noticed. Would've thought you'd assume the Council would catch on before you planned this out, but I guess I overestimated you. There aren't enough guns on that entire godless station to take on a Council battleship if they know where we're headed."

She spread her hands, and her grin was as irreverent as always, but her eyes were narrowed in thought. "Frankly, Cap, if I were going to advise you I'd say we ditch the Excursionist altogether or we don't have a kytryk's chance at high noon, not with all the monitoring shit the Council stuck us with." Pax leaned forward, her grin vanishing and her hands tight on the table. "But I'm not advising you, because this plan of yours is about as useless as whatever sorry nonsense Cú is calling his genitals. So the Council might've committed genocide. It's one species in an entire tchyting galaxy—planets die, asteroids strike, societies collapse every day. What's new?"

However, in all that irritated speech, she'd never once flat out said 'no'—in fact, she'd offered suggestions that indicated otherwise. She didn't give a damn about the humans, that much was honest...but she might just take the opportunity to get out from under the Council's thumb. There was a reason the Trakqi didn't listen to them.

Grick was stunned.

He could go home. The find he had made could send everyone in the ship home. He could go back to the dark, and the quiet, back to the cold embrace of the Father. Back to the great Giftstone Forges, the shining cathedrals in the deep, the million voices raised in song... he could be one of them again. Forgiven. The scar on his forehead twinged slightly. Grick could be forgiven.

But the captain would not allow it. Instead he would stray further from his divine mission, plunge deeper into the strange dangers of space. To declare war on the council, and in all likelihood die and never return home. Captain Ak'sel would do this to him. His friend.

Paxyntrotka, meanwhile, was outlining in exhaustive detail everything wrong with the Captain's plan, and she had some good points. Grick had no desire for conflict with Council forces, and he had even less desire to see the Captain injured. What was more, it wasn't entirely clear to the Child how any of this accomplished their (apparent) goal of finding the humans; it seemed like a lot of risk for no real gain.

Haltingly, Grick raised one of his arms in the air, the other pulled over his chest in a show of nervousness. "The ways of aliens are strange to me," he began, "but I do not know what we stand to gain by falsely turning against you, Captain Ak'sel. If our aim is to buy... weapons," he paused at the word, "There is surely salvage aboard the ship we could sell? Paxyntrotka or Venbee'Retintee or another could go to buy them, and us not be troubled with this illusion." He lowered his voice considerably and looked down at the ground. "That is, if we are truly set on this course of action."

---

(Now this is surprising) If Ven could give an expression equal to raised eyebrows, he would have been doing so right then. However, he remained within control of his emotions and instead went with thinking about what the Captain was saying. He drummed his fingers on his legs, going over it all in his mind while Pax went on her rant, and Grick added his own opinions. After some contemplation, he decided to talk himself.

"I have a few things I need to... consider before really 'agreeing' to your plan-that is, if you would even allow us to disagree, considering we'd still be convicts and possibly fugitives if we were abandoned by you, or whatever it is you would be planning if we don't come along." He turned his attention toward Pax for a moment. "I must admit I admire you for your incredibly tactless and pointlessly nihilistic attitude toward genocide, especially considering... well, nevermind." He waved it off, signalling he no longer cared for any more discussion about Pax's thoughtlessness when faced with something his own species had had to deal with.

"Continuing with the points I'd like to address: first, I'm not sure I understand the need for a supposed mutiny. Admittedly, I have never been to Nomad, though my previous... comrades were often a part of the trading there. I'll need some clarification as to the environment. But I'm sure it's nothing I can't handle." The disdain in his voice with the words 'comrades' would be evident to anyone in the room, clearly a reference to his previous days in the "mafia" of the planet he was originally from, and their betrayal for him. He shrugged.

"Second, you're asking me to look for a race that I would have never gotten along with, had I ever met any, because of their treatment of my people. I will, however, disregard this in my optimistic view that their previous... invasive attitudes toward other races is no longer present in these... last of their species." He thought again for a moment. "And thirdly... Well, this is probably the biggest reason why I would actually agree to this, presuming we have a choice. I have nowhere left to turn to, honestly. If I run into anyone from my previous, less "honest" days, they would almost certainly come after me if they found I was free. Of course, I'm not really scared of the utter sacks of garbage, considering they have become more pathetic since I have been gone, but that's still a possible threat to me if I go. It might even be a threat to me-well, all of us, really-if I stay, but not quite of the same caliber."

He grasped a part of his bandages that was bothering him in between his thumb and index finger and he fixed it in place, tightly. "That being said, I'm more in than out, depending on the answer to my mutiny question."

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Riggs watched as the Captain collapsed, far less surprised than he should've been. He held back a laugh, watching the usually stern and firm Villianian slide into the embrace of darkness. As she fell, she reached out with connections of anger and frustration that quickly faded as her head bounced upon the hard floor of the ship, almost comically. Riggs let out a hiss of air, both releasing the tension from his held back laughter and expressing his exasperation. "Well, as it seems the Captain is no longer in a position to defend her side, I shall step in and display, once again, the laughable lack of strategic knowledge present in your feeble minds." Riggs said in a commanding voice.

His wide grin of a mouth cracked open slightly more as the words fell out, voice smooth as honey. "If I may interject here." He began, pausing for effect. "While it is noble of this crew to want to spare our Captain a beating, I'm going to have to side with her plan for the most part. In my years, I've done my fair share of dealing on Nomad. Now, picture this in your mind, if you've got the brainpower to spare." He said, standing and raising his hands with fingers spread out in inverted L's, mimicking a screen. "You're a scummy pirate, black market dealer, or just all around ne'er-do-well, drinking with those of like persuasion. Then BANG! A new ship pulls into Nomad -but wait, this ship is no slaver ship you've ever seen. Not a pirate ship either, no this ship has official council markings on it. Maybe you know it as a Picker ship full of criminals, but if you do, then you're likely also privy to the fact that these are lead by a Council captain and lieutenant. So when a big ugly red chodura¹ comes in, you're already suspicious." He said, vaguely gesturing to Pax with his bottle to punctuate his swear.

"So suddenly, this Trakqian, or Veslinian, or Zeluurian is asking you where to buy some big guns. Is any dealer worth their salt going to give them the time of day? Chodu² no! More likely than not, they're going to see this as some half baked council sting, not a genuine deal. You'd be lucky to get out without getting your ga'and³ beaten in, let alone getting a name to sell weapons. No, we need the mutiny story to have any credibility with these people as long as we're cruising in on this shiny chrome council trashcan." He glanced over at Nine pointedly. "Unless our lovely chauffeur has some way to get us a new ship on the way to Nomad, that is." He said, sliding back into his seat and leaning back. His eyes opened wider as he kept his gaze focused on the pilot.

"That being said, Pax isn't entirely incorrect. If the Council truly wants to take us down -which they most assuredly will be, when they are alerted of our plan, if they aren't already..." Riggs said, giving a pointed glance to the security cameras on the ship. In all honesty he wasn't entirely sure if the Council had access to the cameras on board, but he wouldn't be surprised if they did. Amending his statement, Rigger continued. "When the council finds out about our plan, no number of guns we could buy would give us a fighting chance, even assuming we had unlimited funds -which we most definitely do not." He said, glancing around the ship as he attempted to take a mental inventory of just how much of the ship they could scrap while keeping it intact enough to fly.

"It's clear that if we are to go against the Council, our only options are to follow the Captains plan, or ditch both the plan and this ship. That being said, perhaps I was hasty in my dismissal of the moral and ethical implications of this mission. In truth, Pax and Ven do bring valid- though shortsighted points to the table. By no means are any of us morally obligated to save the human race -in fact it could be argued that the universe is better off without their 'invasive attitudes' as our bandaged friend so acutely put it. But this is far bigger than that. You would let the Council get away with the extermination of an admittedly inconsequential race? Then why would they stop to think twice about the extermination of another race? Another hundred? Where do we draw the line? Will we wait to act on this injustice until the Freckans are extinct? Perhaps the Ukai? No, the fish rots from the head." Riggs said, drawing a line across his own throat with his thumb, before turning to Grick with eyes gleefully narrowed. "Forgive the metaphor."

Though he felt he had finished his contribution to the conversation for the moment, Riggs mind kept racing along. As he thought up endless plans and counter plans for their excursion, his florescent tattoos raced along his skin, changing rapidly. They would need a drop team to pick up weapons and spread the story. Ven would be a necessity for this part of the plan, as his poker face would be integral in the lie. Accompanying him, they would need one of the more intimidating of the crew to escort the Captain. Possibly Z? Riggs quickly dismissed that thought. Couldn't present Z as the face of this rebellion, simply too stupid. His eyes flicked over the rest of the crew. Cu? Same problem as Z. Grick? Not aggressive enough. Nine? Too weak. His eyes came to rest on Pax, the best suited for the job. Riggs wondered then if he should accompany the drop team as well, as he was rather well versed with the ways of Nomad, but mentally decided that Pax seemed to know her way around just as well.

It was then that the Captain so kindly made her debut return to the world of the conscious. "Ah, lovely. The Captain once again graces us with her presence. Now that I'm done playing devils advocate for you, Aksel, I'd like to second the complaints of Grick. Exactly what the chodu is this plan going to accomplish, save for painting a target on our backs?" Riggs said hastily, his tone snapping to a harsh tone unlike the honey-smooth voice he was using to coerce the crew. He could clearly see the weakness of the Captain at the moment. A more noble soul in his position would've offered The Captain a shoulder to lean on. Riggs instead chose to keep up his verbal assault, even though he was already on board entirely with the plan. If The Captain was too weak to lead them, better she be rooted out now than when she could jeopardize their mission.

_{1-Chodura roughly translates to fucker
2-Chodu roughly translates to fuck
3-Ga'and is Corvidaen slang referencing genitalia}

Grick didn't realize what was going on with the Captain at first. He had never seen this happen before, one of the aliens collapsing to the ground like this. Perhaps it was a consequence of life in two dimensions. Then he saw the distress in her eyes, and he began to plod forward at what seemed to him to be a very fast pace.

Nevertheless he failed to reach her before she hit the ground. Grick folded his arms over his chest in concern as he looked down at her, his eyes frantically scanning her body for a sign of some wound. It was... disquieting to see her in this fashion, the woman usually so in control of the situation laid low. "Friends? Friends? The Captain Ak'sel has fallen. I fear I am unaware if this is common among aliens. Is this common? I have not seen it before."

Rigger took this time to continue the debate about the crew's course of action, which Grick listened to with one hearing-hole while poking the Captain with one tendril. His arguments were good, Grick had to admit, save for his theory that the Children - the 'Freckans', as the aliens said - might be next to disappear. We are held in His dark palm. We are safe.

Captain Ak'sel awoke a moment later, and struggled to regain her footing. Grick lowered his voice and wrapped the tendrils of one of his hands awkwardly around her waist, hoisting her into the air with his prodigious strength. "Captain Ak'sel, you have fallen. Allow me to lift you," he said, almost visibly shrinking away from Rigger's accusations.

---

It was a lot to take in as Nine sat on the floor as her brain processed the information slowly. Nine still feeling unsure about the whole thing, along side that Nine was annoyed about being kept in the dark although she understood why. Still the fact she just expected everyone to be okay with such a choice, was just plain stupid and on a picker ship a potentially fatal one two. Being said this group of pickers where pretty well behaved for the most part, still even the most behaved picker could still turn nasty. Knowing this Nine was on her guard just in case something happened, although she hoped nothing would.

It was when Riggs gave her a pointed look did Nine perk up getting back to her feet, feeling a little better for having a moment to let her brain process.
"No, but I do know a weapons dealer that owes me a favor." Nine stated crossing her arms, her tail moving rapidly in annoyance. Being called a chauffeur really bugged Nine, she had to remember to lower the inertial dampers what ever section he was in next when they left phase space. As Riggs kept speaking Nine had little choice to agree with him, the man making a few good points. Nine mind thinking on the number tracking devices the counsel planted in these ship, luckily the Nova nebula would hide them but they needed to removed if they planned on leaving. They'd also also need to get other supplies given, once the counsel worked out they turned on them docking a station or landing in a spaceport would be risky.

As things continued and the captain collapsed, Nine moved to her superiors side at the same time as Grick. Even if Nine hated the captain she owed the woman felt obligated to help, that and the code of honor demanded she aid her captain no matter what personal her feelings were.
"Alright everyone, give our captain a moment." Nine stated feeling a sick to her stomach for aiding the captain, but duty was important thus Nine would tolerate the ill feeling. At least Grick was offering to keep her up meaning Nine didn't need to, unsure if she could stomach doing so, for now she keep the pickers from continuing the discussion until Aksel was ready.

Cú watched the proceedings with detached concern, his mind racing beneath his mind. After the moment on panic at forgetting his clothes, the hound lost interest at the glares and strange looks the others were giving him. He grinned toothily at Riggs as he imperiously tried to order the crew in the absence of the captain. Ignoring the prattling beat, he walked over to Grick and the Captain, brushing by the blue alien on his way. He had seen the look of distaste on Rigg's face when he walked in, as well as the way he was verbally assaulting the captain.

"I suggest you remember that this idiot can castrate you with a your own clavicle." Cú growled at Rigg's, before continuing on his way to help the commander.

Cú liked Grick and the captain. Though Cú disagreed with the Frecksan on matters of religion, he enjoyed the fact that the alien was so quiet, lacking the biting insults of the others on the ship. The captain was someone he both admired, and despised, admired for her strength of character, and despised for being a tool to oppress the hound. But, now that she was offering him a chance at freedom and a means to screw with the system, he respected her under a new light.

Huffing lightly, Cú turned back to the group.

"Why do you all hesitate? We are the scum of the universe, the forsakers of morals and values. Any hope of this being a legitimate rebellion against the system was doomed in its inception. So why hesitate? We will never truly be free, with our records, and our ties to the traitor Captain. The Council will keep us, to make sure that the universe will forget of whatever they wanted the universe to forget." Cú said as he turned again to help the Captain up.

"We will never be free of anything, the shackles that bind run to deep, forged to strong to truly break. But this, this glorious action will be the closest we can get to breaking out shackles. Death may claim us, our deeds swept away, and out existstance denied, but at least we can give a final fuck you to our captors." Cú finished, offering a hand to his captain.

---

"As probably should have been clear before, I do not, in fact, wish to ignore a possible genocide. Perhaps my rambling made that a bit unclear. I simply wished to express the fact that my people have been mistreated by humans before. I must add, then, that I would much rather see to it that Council pays for their cruel deeds, especially if this genocide has truly happened. I am not one to take something like that lightly, unlike my brazen associate Pax. I suppose though, that someone such as yourself, Riggs, would be unable to understand much in the way of sympathy for other races. That is quite clear in your manner of speaking." He coughed as Grick went to the Captain, believing any services he could offer to her unnecessary at the time. "Regardless, though, you have made your point in why we should fake a mutiny, though I'm still skeptical in the effectiveness of such a lie, given... well, never mind that."

He turned to Cú. "I do not blame you, my large friend, for not understanding our hesitation. You see, it takes a little more than just agreement to understand one another, and the Captain's goals for this next mission need to be clearer in order to facilitate such an elaborate ruse. If we do not prod at holes in the argument, we simply cannot develop this far enough to succeed. Therefore, we question, we consider, and we must also acknowledge the fact that being so far away from places we have known for so long-at least, quite a few of us-can be quite a new concept. Especially for those not prone to travelling long distances, with the exception of our missions before this one." He unfolded his legs and placed his arms on the table. "But I digress. In the simplest terms, we are hesitant because this is new, and unknown for the fact that humanity has been gone for such a long time that we don't know much about them, especially personally; and we also hesitate for the freedom we have so longed for, for so long. Though I suppose that's not true in my case. Or, apparently, yours and the Captains either."

He then looked at where the Captain was. "Given Riggs has, in the simplest terms, answered my questions I posed at the Captain, I will be willing to continue with this plan."