"You are fantastic."

"You are BIG."

Jackal's first interaction with his coworkers was of the two girls who complimented his form. One was a human, that much he could tell, humans were the easiest to remember and identify. The Gorgas universally respect their diplomacy from the federation. The other girl, he wasn't sure what sort of alien she was, but he at least knew he may have saw at least one of her kind before either in public or from his former work. Being complimented so was a first to him. Aside from the horrid treatment that Jackal tolerated from the prison guards, his clan from long ago rarely complimented one another aside from a simple "Good Job" or "Honor be with you.", if a reptile could blush Jackal would certainly be as red as an apple. Not knowing how to accept or deal with such compliment, he merely flicked his tail and nodded, looking down and exchanging a short stare between the two and spoke "Thank you." His voice matched his appearance well, monstrous and brutish, with a deep tone of voice. Surprisingly he spoke English rather well and clearly aside from his deep and orc-like voice.

He noticed some other stranger who had exchanged a rather confusing look upon him after she shouted something about a dragon. He wasn't sure if she was fearful or amazed by his presence, perhaps both. But seeing as she had nothing further to say to him he didn't spend too much focus upon her. It was rather embarrassing in the back of his mind that so many people looked upon him, as if humilating his lateness. However he avoided the thought and listened further to what was being said. He had gathered of their mission to work with a federation, which caused his eyes go wide. Most of the criminals here were reluctant to join, but Jackal was instantly on board. Not only was this escape from his imprisonement and execution, but he was going to work with the same federation that showed his people diplomacy and the stars. Sure rarely did Gorgas take that opportunity, but respect was shared to them all the same. For a moment, Jackal thought that he didn't deserve this opportunity, and rather deserved to die in such a dishonorable way for his criminal acts and unworthy past. Though his attention was brought when someone brought up the 'micro-chips' in their skulls. Jackal wasn't tech-savvy. For all he knew, technology and spacecraft is the same as magic and witchcraft, he didn't reason with how they were able to do that and accepted it as a supernatural, not questioning type of mentality, as if whatever sort of machinery or tech is claimed to do whatever, he will believe it and head the warning.

His thoughts were broken at the rise of a prison riot. Chaos ensuing in the back round as they were prepared to embark on the designated ship. Jackal followed without hesitation, however he realized the danger of the situation and took position somewhere in the middle of the evacuation line, mostly leaning towards the two girls that complimented him earlier. He had new allies now, whether they were friends or not, it is an unspoken agreement that allies should protect and assist each other in this cause. He watched another human flip a rather strange looking race of a prisoner to the floor with success, before seeing some other prisoner, a tall and muscle bound human charge to the group as well. Jackal was still cuffed, so instead of using his hands or legs, his neck lunged down and his jaws quickly clamped down on the prisoner before he could even see it coming. Blood would dart from his neck as the Gorgas lifted the prisoner who weighed at least 260 lbs of pure muscle off of the ground, mangling and crushing the neck with nothing but teeth and jaw-power of him in a rather sickening 'snap'. The prisoner stopped his struggle and screaming rather quickly as the Hellkite dropped the corpse, who's head was barely hanging on by threads of meat and bone at this point. Jackal's mouth was now very well stained with dripping blood from his saurian lips and lower jaws to his sharp jagged rows of large teeth and canines. The beast kept walking as if it nothing happened, and in an attempt of secrecy he had swallowed a bit of the human's flesh that he had obtained under his forked tongue during the biting.

"The catch is the explosive microchip inside of your brains. You've all had a 'routine' medical examination within the last two weeks, you all received a shot during that. It was with this operation in mind. If you 'act out of line', then a switch is flipped and your head explodes like a ripe watermelon against concrete. It's a bit messy but it gets the point across," Hardying replied, answering Scarleth's question with a bit of a sinister smirk, obviously proud of himself.

Explosive chips? Taka leaned forward, directing her focus back to the warden. Explosions always caught her interest, but she wasn't quite sure how she felt about one put inside her brain, she remembered the check-up and all, especially the lollipop. Before she could say anything, perhaps ask a few details, Mr.White jumped back in. His voice droned on in the background as Hardy's words echoed inside of her head. Their method of control sounded a lot like how she'd gotten stuck in Maximum Octane...a lot like how-.. Taka didn't like it at all. But as with the nature of these things, there was nothing she could do about it. Yet.

Whatever shit-eating grin might've been resting on Jesse's face before Hardying showed his hand was instantly dashed. Jesse enjoyed his head quite a bit, and certainly preferred it in it's current state -not as a red mist. He rubbed at the back of his head nervously before regaining his composure, and flashing a winning smile. While he had been made aware of a new entrance by the conversation of the others around the room, he hadn't exactly taken a moment to check on the inmate until now, and was silenced by the view. "Holy shit, a dragon indeed..." He thought to himself, too awestruck to form anything near a coherent sentence.

Henri was startled upon hearing the dragon-like creature thank her and Ghost. She'd never seen anything as spectacular him before, had no clue to his race or his home world. Before she could reply, Mr. White was launching into his next speech.

Henri vaguely recalled the medical examination, the injections, the uncomfortable invasion of privacy. She felt relatively undisturbed by this news, however. What was another piece of metal? It seemed like a reasonable precaution to take, as much as she did not wish for her head to be... well, she'd try not to think about that. If it got her away from here, she'd take it.

Bullets. From the outside. This mask was built to take incoming bullets. Not my fucking head exploding.

With a sigh flowing from his lips, Max's head slowly fell backwards, as his gaze shifted to admire the ceiling. Now that the truth was out, Max could do nothing but think back to the medical visit. Weeks before he even had an idea this plan existed, he was being made an unwilling participant. Would they kill him if he refused to go? Was his head exploding even enough of a reason to keep him in his cell? As his thoughts mingled with anger and confusion, his hearing began to dull. He felt like a gun was in his back, forcing him into this plan of certain death and convict rommates. Being stuck in a cell with himself was enough, being stuck on a ship with 8 other psychopaths wasn't exactly the best image of freedom Max could conjure up.

But, it was freedom, nonetheless. Heavily armed and heavily monitored freedom.

I wonder if my mask could even handle that kind of explosion?

Tesra meanwhile couldn't help but be amused, impressed even, by Mr. White's rather violent method of controlling the Con Squad he was trying to build. Not a lot got by Tesra thanks to her own expertise in all things stealthy and sneaky, but she never would have suspected a chip to be inserted into her during a medical exam, at least not at the time. Maybe they gave her the injection when they treated her for the black eye that the psychiatrist gave her a few weeks ago? .

Well whatever the source, it was undeniably an inventive way to keep someone in line, but Mr. White revealing those chips was probably a bad idea if you wanted to keep someone in line permanently. Sure the threat of exploding microchips worked, but it was a threat they all knew about now. They would have been better off keeping their control method a secret, so that they wouldn't be able to try and find a way to disable it. You could make it as hard to disable as you wanted, but as Tesra proved time and time again, someone will get around those barriers eventually. Still, Tesra wanted off of this rock. Sure the exploding chip kind of sucked, but she was getting off said rock, and she didn't even have to start a prison riot to do it.

No sooner had that thought passed though Tesradomus' mind, that the area became painted red by the emergency lights that sat in the corners of the room, accompanied by the shrill wailing of the alarms. As if by collective thought, the guards that stood guard behind the prisoners all turned their gaze out of the doors, pointing their guns, as Tesra instantly jumped to her feet.

"KAFAK, I KNEW I LEFT THE WATER RUNNING!"

"Mr. White, take these prisoners to the Gladius. There's an emergency situation in the facility, I fear a riot is about to occur. You four, help escort this group to the vessel, you two follow me," Hardying commanded, keeping his composure as he exited the room.

"I thought we were like freedom fighters now?" Taka said, following the Lanun's lead in getting to her feet, but with less intensity.

"Well, we're going to have to fight to be free of this place so....kinda?"

The buzzing klaxons and red lights woke Max out his stupor, as his head finally shot back upright, his eyes darted around to see the guards readying their weapons, and the Warden receiving messages on his wrist communicator.

"These type of things always happen at the worst times. All of you, follow me, we're going to the ship, now. I highly recommend against joining the rioters, the Gladius is one of the only two ways off of this station. The Warden won't take this situation lightly. I won't either," White affirmed. Taka skipped around the table following White towards the door, followed closely by a jaunty yet quielty determined Tesra. A vibration passed through the floor, something on the far end of the facility probably went up in flames. The thought made Taka positively giddy.

Following the party out, Henri watched the chaos unfurl around her with delight. How long had it been since she'd been in a real brawl? Years, perhaps. It was wonderful. Prisoners charging, their eyes alight, practically foaming at the mouth. That's what isolation would do to a man. Well, besides her new, merry band of miscreants who appeared to be taking out any threats with calculated efficiency. In front of her, Scarleth flipped a Vaxir as if it were nothing and continued without blinking. Incredible, Henri thought. She knew very little about the assassin, despite having been with The Black Stars. Her father had been in awe of the woman though which was enough to convince Henri she was something.

Henri's functioning hand twitched. She ached to run into the fray, to feel that blood-pounding-skin-itching-teeth-clenching kind of thrill (Wow, I need to get out more). But it didn't matter, as long as her arm was out of service, holding her back like an anchor, she could only stay on the defensive. Fortunately, the dragon-like creature seemed to be staying close to her and Ghost, a barrier of sorts. She wondered how he'd feel if she scaled him and hid. Now that would be quite a sight. Better not risk it yet, she thought mildly.

Without warning, Henri felt the spray of blood as the gorgas' jaws clamped around a prisoners throat. It was a methodical, easy brutality. Henri was less comfortable, less uncaring, with murder. It made her stomach turn if done by her own hand. Still, she couldn't judge another for it.

The prisonsers were swarming now, greatly outnumbering the group. Henri avoided them as best she could, bringing a powerful shin into the stomach of a man charging forward but before she could react, she felt an arm snake around her neck. Panic curled in her stomach briefly but she used the assailants weight against them and brought them over her head. Stubbornly, the prisoner held on.

As much as Jesse hated the idea of getting his hands dirty, the prison riot seemed like the perfect opportunity for such. As he jumped into action from his seat, he was rather dissapointed to see his fellow inmates attacking the rioters, not the guards. Though he would've enjoyed killing the guards, he saw one of the inmates jump Henri, choking her from behind.

"Ironic, considering I tried to have her killed." He muttered, advancing on the two. With a two-handed punch that would make Captain Kirk proud, Jesse struck the inmate in the small of the back. Taking advantage of the inmate lurching backwards, Jesse wrapped his hands around the mans neck, and physically pried him away from Henri, before slamming him into the wall. A disgusted look crept across his face as he choked the life from the inmate, until the corpse slid to the ground. "Don't think this means I won't still have you killed." Jesse muttered in Henri's direction, wiping his hands off.

"My hero," Henri quipped scornfully through a bought of coughing, though his comment startled her.

The commotion in the halls carried on, and before he knew it, Max was the only one left standing in the room, peering out of the door way. The rest of the convicts had rushed into the fray so quickly, he had already lost sight of them, and he was trying his damdest to sort them out of the riot. He searched for pink skin, or flying mechanical limbs, anything that could guide him to the group. Above the crowd, though, the Gorgas' head was the most prominent tell of the group's location, but between Max and the group stood a mass of angry prisoners and scattering guards. He stretched his neck, knowing trying to take on more than one prisoner at a time without guns wouldn't end too well for him.

With a sigh, the Nohvan finally left the room, and stuck close to the walls, hoping a guy in a big glowing mask and bomber jacket wouldn't stick out too much. Unfortunately for him, luck wouldn't exactly be so generous, and straight away a rather burly prisoner akin to a lumberjack charged towards him, shiv prominent in his hand. In a moment, Max was in his stance, hoping he wasn't too rusty after being in prison for 4 years.

The shiv came flying downwards, missing Max as he stepped to the side, responding with a hard right hook to Lumberjack's face. Lumberjack wasn't very badly phased, and quickly took a second stab, which Max more or less jumped away from. A second prisoner quickly came over to assist Lumberjack, much to the dismay of their lone opponent. The second man swung, striking Max in his mask, about where his nose was. The padding absorbed most of the pain, but the force still staggered Max, and it was then that Lumberjack finally landed a stab on Max's arm, but instead of sinking it, it roughly tore his synthetic skin, sliding roughly off the metal of his arm, and Lumberjack stumbled forward, the force of his stab being disrupted. Max scrambled to throw Lumberjack off of him before they both tumbled to the floor, fighting the pain searing his arm, but it was too late. Pinned under a heavy hairy man, the second burly man stood over the both, gripping on to Max's mask, muttering something like "...easier to beat you to death without this on.."

The man's fingers found the release, and off came Max's mask, which he tossed aside, readying himself to begin his beating. Breathing heavily, stuggling under Lumberjack, Max was finally feeling his blood flow, and the thrill of combat returned to him. As he looked up at the man stood above him, he gave his fangs a quick lick, and sunk them into Lumberjack's neck, who responded by crying in pain as the poison entered his bloodstream. Lumberjack gripped his neck, and loosened his hold on Max's arms, which came up under him and threw the prisoner off. Standing up, Max shook his head a few time, readying himself again.

"That actually helped. A lot."

In truth, he felt exposed in a way he hadn't before, and his fangs weren't going to help much as more prisoners reponded to the screams of pain from their fallen on the floor.

One step forward, two steps back, I guess.

Reaching down and grabbing the shiv that was dropped earlier, Max felt a bit safer knowing he wouldn't end his life how he began it: without a fight. Death tasted rather sweet, he thought.

On cue, the three men who stood before him charged, all trying to grapple and punch Max. He managed to slash one across the chest, and he recoiled in pain, but his two partners continued forward, delivering blows to his stomach and face, before grabbing his arms and pinning him against the wall. Licking his own blood from his fangs, Max knew he didn't have any poison left, but a weapon was a weapon, and he tried to bite the face of one of the men, but a hand roughly found its way under his chin forcing his mouth closed and constricting his breathing. With little else to do, Maxamillian struggled like a cornered animal to free his arms or mouth.

Suddenly, there was a flurry of motion as something blue and orange flew into view, roughly yanking one of the goons holding Maximillion's arms backwards like a fish caught on a line and slamming him to the ground. The nearby prisoners jumped back in shock as Tesra seemed to appear out of nowhere, standing triumphantly on top of the unfortunate prisoner's face.

"And she sticks the dismount!" Tesra announced triumphantly, taking a moment to bow towards Max before aiming a kick at her victim's 'pistachios' to make sure he stayed down. She braced for another jump before a shout behind her drew Tesra's attention. The rioters parted ways as an alien prisoner, big enough to give the Gorgas a run for his money who resembled a pile of rocks wearing an orange jumpsuit, approached to challenge her, carrying an impressive hunk of metal in his beefy hand. Looking over her opponent with an expression of unimpressed boredom, she stretched out her arms in preperation for a fight and cracked her knuckles. She blinked in surprise when they produced an unusual snapping sound, signifying that she snapped off one of the fingers on the crappy bionic hand she had on.

"Well, least I have an even number of fingers again," Tesra said with a shrug before shooting a confident albeit cocky smile at her sedimentary opponent and settling into a fighting stance. "Well, what are you waiting for? Bring it on, boulderbrains!"

The rock prisoner gave a roar that seemed to shake the room and charged forward, with Tesra adding her own mocking battle cry that by comparison sounded kind of pitiful. They collided with a tearing sound as Tesra blocked a lethal blow with her lousy bionic arm strong enough to shatter it. Barely avoiding a proper hit from the giant hunk of metal, she slowed herself to a stop as the giant prisoner's momentum kept carrying him forward, right at the rioter still holding Max. Swearing violently, he threw Max to the side and tried to make a run for it. Thrown to the ground, Max felt the breeze as the massive alien plowed right into his friend and collapsed in an unmoving heap on the ground.

"Always happy to lend a hand. Or an arm in this case," Tesra said, gesturing to the scraps of wire and metal hanging from her arm stump and unaware of the prisoner coming up behind her with a metal pipe raised over his head.

Grabbing frantically for his mask, Max's hands finally found it, and as he turned to put it back on, his arms froze and eyes widened as he saw the prisoner approaching the Lanun in front of him.

"Wait, wait, wait, look out!

---

Taka found herself in the midst of pure, absolute chaos. Guards were vainly trying to stop the prisoners as they came at them in droves, leaving nothing but death and brutality in their wake. It seemed everybody was fighting each other, like a big free for all, except for the small gathering currently trying to force their way through the pandemonium. At the drop of a dime absolute insanity was unleashed through the halls of the prison. She grinned widely, feeling better than she had all day, this was totally awesome. She wished she had her explosives, or at least her guns. Unfortunately she was at Mr.white's mercy thanks to the chip, she could feel some deep buried resentment bubble up from the thought.

Shaking her head slightly, she did her best to stay with the group but that task became rather difficult as waves of orange jumpsuits assaulted them. Suddenly Taka found herself alone, somewhere ahead of her was Mr.White, and salvation. As fun as this seemed, she didn't want to die here. She had much more fun in store for her if she did as Hardy and his friend wanted, and that was to set them all loose upon the universe. So, she reasoned, there was no other choice but to follow through with the situation. A small man cut off her thoughts as he appeared before her, brandishing the classic bent pipe.

Taka swept to the side as he swung overhead, sweeping her shin across his and throwing him off balance. He hit the ground with a thud and a small snap which was probably his nose breaking. He groaned, clutching at his face. Taka debated whether she should make sure he couldn't get up again, but he didn't seem to be trying that anyways. How easily the fight was taken out of the opportunist, she snickered in amusement. She wove through the mill of bodies, doing her best not to get shot, stabbed, or otherwise assaulted. Mostly she dodged and tripped assailents over themselves, leaving them to be trampled or find new targets. She wasn't too concerned, actually.

Through the solid wall of orange she caught glimpes of the others. The guy with the mask seemed to be holding his own fairly well, and the gorgas was doing.. well, what you'd expect a nine foot tall dragon warrior to do. A roar to her right alerted her to another attacker, this one was coming in low, protecting his center of gravity and coming at her with a bent, jagged shank of metal. Taka slid to the side in a dogding manuever, but ran into somebody's back. A large man whirrled on her, fury painted across his face and madness staring at her with his one good eye. She hopped back, gauging her two opponents now, the slim man with the shank had paused, assessing the situation with his new temporary ally.

Muscles charged forward, hunched with his arms braced. "Are you going to hug me?!" Taka taunted, slipping under his grasp. Before she could retaliate his buddy whipped around him, swinging his impromtu weapon at her in a wide arc. She ducked, and the shank ripped a jagged line through the larger man's back, causing him to scream out in pain. Alliance broken, the thickset prisoner took the smaller one's face in one of his ham sized fists. From what Taka could tell by the sounds of bones crumbling and the blood starting to trail from the smaller fish's eyes, his head was being crushed.

That suited her just fine. She simply turned and left. It wasn't particularily desireable to go up against a man who easily dwarved her own size. Yet, her desire to come out unscathed was cut short as she spotted little Henri. The small woman seemed to be in a hard spot with that arm of hers. Despite that, her back was turned an a pair of wiry men had their sights set on her. It was more than that, they were ignoring other prime targets to get at her, they must have a grudge against the unassuming Henri, or maybe a sick desire to destroy something so precious.

Taka snaked her way towards Henri. Maybe she had already formed a sort of comradery with her, since they were all in this mess together, or perhaps she reminded Taka of somebody she had lost long ago. Either way, she was almost there when a lanky arm weilding a looted shock baton raised behind Henri. "Rla'hom raunnom!" she cursed, leaping into a prisoner before her. Unware and more than startled he fell to the ground as Taka used him like a mounting block, propelling herself into the wiry man's back.

They hit the ground in a tumbled. The man cursed as he lost his grip on the baton. His partner stopped and turned on Taka instead, a chain gripped tightly between his fists. He sneered, charging towards her as she fought to untangle herself from the other. Her leg flickered out, like a whip, and caught the chain holder's knee in a sickening crack. For a moment he fell forward, folding his leg in half, before flopping to the side with a screech of pain.

"You little bitch," The man underneath Taka hissed, wrapping his hands around her throat. His mistake was not restraning her instead. She growled, grabbing his head in both of her hands and smashing it back into the ground. His eyes glazed over slightly, and his hands let go, choosing to form fists instead. He caught her across the jaw, with force enough to roll her off of him. He let out a mad cackle as he struggled to his knees.

Taka was already crouched on all fours, like a wild animal. Something primal let loose inside of her. She barreled forward, taking them both to the ground once more. She snarled, grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the ground.

"You gonna fuck me or what?" He seethed, struggling to free himself from her grip. He was marginally stronger than her, and was slowly forcing his wrists out from Taka's grasp. Taka's mouth split open wide, showing her fangs, her victim paused for just a moment, a look of worry passing over his features. He was right to be worried. She descended down on him, like an animal, tearing at his face with her teeth. The poison did nothing to numb his pain as his screams battered against ears that refused to hear him. His screams quickly turned to hoarse groans, and finally, wet gurgles. With the swiftness to make a gorgas proud, Taka went for the throat.

A moment later she was on her feet, wiping the blood from her mouth and staring at the mangled face of the prisoner. "Naoo a'r sha," she spat, turning to find Henri.

"Wow," Henri breathed, somewhere between awe and fear, "You're viscous. Thank you."

She was genuinely thankful for the help. For some reason the criminals seemed to be congregating on her, an easy target perhaps? A sweet prize in the riot. She shuddered. Henri felt helpless in a way she had not since before her bionic enhancements, she had the skill but not the strength to dispatch the threat.

As if sensing her anxiety, another jumpsuit descended on her. Let them She thought with stubborn determination, she wouldn't be brought down by anyone. One of the man's hands wrapped around her throat (That's going to bruise later), the other grabbing for her arm. Thinking quickly, Henri swept out her foot to bring the man's legs from beneath him, sending him to the ground with a thud. His hand, fingers still pressed into her neck, brought her down with him. There's only one way out of this, she knew, as much as she wished it wasn't the case. Swinging her around, so she was straddling him, Henri closed her legs around the man's neck. She felt the grinding crunch of his spine between her thighs. It's stomach turning. Slowly, his hand loosened and slipped from her throat as his life fell away. Her body sung with the thrill of the fight but it was at odds with the discomfort of death.

As she stood, Henri hoped no one saw her. It served her well to appear helpless, to have people who wanted to defend her. She knew she would need the allies and, in truth, she had already started to warm to this unusual group.

The crowd seemed to be thinning now, weary of the group who were dispatching them with ruthless ease. Henri, blood splattered and restive, approached Taka "We should probably go now."

---

Pouncing from it's frozen state, Max's body finally found itself back into action, dropping his mask as he jumped up. With his right hand, he threw the blue Lanun to the side, and with his left, caught the incoming blow she almost took herself. The prisoner tried to wrangle the pipe away, but Max's bionic grip had already cemented itself, squeezing dents into the pipe. He yanked the pipe from the prisoner's hands, and switched it in his hand, quickly following up with a brutal blow to the prisoner's face, knocking him to the floor. Max took his advantage to stand atop the fallen prisoner, landing more vicious blows, until his face was dotted with blood, and the pipe was well bent.

Standing back, taking deep breaths, Max's gaze rose back up to face height, a few more prisoners were stood watching in horor, not sure how to approach the blood spattered Nohvan. He bared his fangs towards them, and they all turned and moved back into the thinning crowd of rioting prisoners. Tossing the pipe down, Max turned back around, grabbing the Lanun's hand in his left, and his mask in the right, putting this mask back on as the Lanun rose. Shifting the mask, twisting his neck, and licking the blood off his face closest to his lips, his masked gaze turned towards the Lanun, as they still stood in each others grip, the latter alien a bit off balance due to her missing arm.

"Thanks for the help, Blue, but-" He pulled her face nearer his."If anyone asks, you didn't see my face." He rasped.

"Don't say anything about the chump that almost brained me and you got a deal," Tesra replied. "Now let's get off this prison before Rockington wakes up."

Jackal seeing as Henri seemed a bit twitchy after he had performed such a brutal act. He would make a mental note to keep his violent nature more 'tame' as they call it. As to not offend any of his comrades. He let the others do their parts of action, even the small girl could defend herself it seems. It would be disrespectful if he took away the honor of battle from them. Aside from that he had already displayed his brutal nature, best not to continue to leave a worse impression. Then again he wasn't the only one who seemed to enjoy the scent of bloodshed. The Gorgas looked down at one of the corpses made by his allies, who were preoccupied themselves with battle.

He would stay back from the group a bit in silence, and while he team wasn't looking he took a nicely large chunk of man-flesh from the chest of the human prisoner's body. Chewing the gore he swallowed with relative ease, hopefully no one had noticed. He would sprint back to the group, flames would suddenly spew from his lips and spray over the crowds of prisoners still standing in their route to escape. The breathe weapon was more intended to spread like a house and discourage the living obstacles more, rather then being directly lethal or accurate, that didnt mean some poor unfortunate inmates were caught ablaze or badly scathed by the flames. Jackal would continue to rush forward, even in cuffs around his four hands his brute strength and speed were made apparent as he charged past the line of his allies and trampling over a few foes that were trying to put themselves out. He stopped across the distance of the room to wait for the others to catch up. This was to not only ensure their safety but also ensure that he wouldn't get lost trying to find the mystical vehicle that travels the heavens that was assigned to them. He wasn't sure what to call them though had heard most claimed the title of spaceship or vessel.

Callum's eyes had lit up at the mention of a prison riot. Clearly security was not tight enough on the station, or someone had let all of the force-fields done on purpose in order to cause such an event. The latter option seemed the most likely to him. From his years in the facility he had noticed that security was not a thing which was neglected. Either way this was clearly not in the planning judging from the expressions of the Warden and Mr. White. If there was one thing he learned in his life it was that you always needed to be ready for anything.

The rioting didn't really matter to him, if he wasn't already on his way out of the prison with the team of convicts then he would be part of the riot. He'd gain control of it, someone would need to step up in such a scenario. Chaos for just chaos was pointless. He was here instead, if anything the riot only sped up his way off the space prison. The Pirate King had no fear in his eyes as they emerged from the room, White leading them as a group of inmates charged down the hallway towards them. The four guards with them had taken up positions, their shotguns at the ready. Callum's eyes were upon the female assassin first as she athletically flipped a rioter over herself without flinching. That was part of the reason she had ended up in the Stars. Then the reptilian literally tore a sizeable man to pieces in a brutal display. Thank God he was on their side.

The other prisoners were also attacked by belligerent convicts, each of them held their own and showed off impressive skills. All of them were still handcuffed, there was no time to free them or they weren't trusted enough to not run away and join the rioters. Callum moved backwards towards the wall as he closely watched the combat, the four guards were firing off their shotguns as electrified bolts burst from the weapons. He knew they weren't using live ammunition as one of the charging rioters receive several bolts to the chest and wen't down in a heap, unconscious. Two of the guards went down as rioters jumped them.

The brawl continued on as Callum stayed against a wall, he watched as the scum he had argued with before saved one of the other prisoners. Then his attention was drawn to two human rioters both eyeing him with intent. He didn't recognize either one but they must have figured out who he was, or they were just in some murderous rage. Either way it appeared he had a fight on his hands. One of them stepped ahead of the other, his head was shaved bald some tattoos that indicated him as a human supremacist doting his form. He never had any real hatred for those types, had a few in the Stars, as long as they kept their xenophobic views to themselves he didn't care. This one charged at Callum with a grunt as he tried to tackle him.

The Pirate King dashed to his side as the man slammed into the wall, rubbing his chest where he impacted against it. Callum threw a boot led kick right at the convict's head, he made contact with a splatter of blood as he broke the man's nose. He then grabbed the bald rioter and pulled him to the ground. He slammed three alternating punches into the man's face, blood leaking onto his knuckles as they hit home each time. Then his attacking was interrupted by the second rioter that had been eyeing Callum, this one threw a hard fist into the Pirate King's jaw as he fell off the grounded bald convict.

"You are going to die slowly and painfully." Callum muttered as he fell backwards, one hand rubbing his jaw where had been hit.

Before he could be hit again the ex-gang lord rushed forward as he full body tackled the one that dared to lay a finger upon him. For a brief second the two slid across the metallic floor in a heap. Callum came out on top as he put both hands around the man's neck, choking the life from him. Another punched impacted into him as the convict was not dead yet, this only served to bring up feelings of rage long forgotten in him. It had been a very long time since he killed someone with his bare hands.

He threw a punch of his own then stood up as he then threw a sharp kick to the man's midsection. With blood amounting in his mouth from the dual punches Callum stomped his foot downwards into the rioter's face with as much force as he could muster. Teeth loosened before he brought down his boot a second time, then he kept doing it even as blood pooled on the floor and onto his lower body. The man's face started to look more comparable to mush then a human head as Callum continued with the stomping. The only thing that stopped him was White yanking him away, the two locked eyes. The Pirate King quickly rubbed pieces of the rioter's face off his boot as White surveyed the situation. The other business suit dressed man was dead on the ground, his neck slit.

"Come on, keep moving, we're almost there, we fight and we die!" White exclaimed to his gathered groups of prisoners.

The finely dressed man's suit was speckled with blood, some of his own from a right hook to the face he was on the end of, as well as some of the rioters' bodily fluids. He reached towards his ankle and pulled out a compact pistol. Callum stared at the weapon as it was drawn, he was surprised the man was allowed on the station with it. White leveled it at a rioter and squeezed the trigger. A real bullet emerged from the handgun and smacked into the rioter's neck, spraying blood.

"Now, let's go!" White yelled then ran the opposite direction from where the rioter's charged from, Callum was hot on his tracks.

The chosen team of prisoners were as well. The man was full out sprinting letting the chasing rioters have no chance to catch them. The two surviving guards were in the back of the group, one was mobbed by rioters, a scream escaping his lips. The other kept moving as quickly as he could. White turned a corner, then another, the convict team still following tightly. Some of the rioters slipped on the floor as the turn was made. The other guard fell hard, then was jumped by rioters. On one side of them the Gladius could be seen out a window in all of its glory. Near it a smaller vessel was docked.

The Gladius looked like paradise to the team of prisoners, it's silver paint shining in the light of the distant star. In the hallway ahead of the group a few guards could be seen, one waving them in as the other stood near the side ready to close the door shut and lock them off from the mad rioters.

The tension was high in the air as the prisoners sprinted, some on their last legs, if they stopped running they would be dead as the mob of mad rioters was still following them. Their footsteps sounded like angry bulls charging. White was the first one through the doorway as he nearly slipped stopping himself near the guards. Then Callum came next, followed by the rest of the team. The guard by the door had already started to shut the door, the last prisoners inside had to slide underneath it. The tactic worked as the rioters were stuck on the other side, many of them denting the closed door as it was sealed tightly. The banged and screamed against it as Mr. White sheathed his pistol, they were safe for now. He let out a deep sigh, catching his breath.

"Get onboard the Gladius, get away from this prison. The coordinates and file for your first mission are already in the ship. Flip the autopilot on and get going. Also figure out who does who on the ship, there's a captain's cabin and someone will need to pilot it. You all have personalized weapons, apparel and equipment stored on the vessel." Mr. White ordered before he walked towards the other ship, he wanted off this station as badly as the criminals did. As the team of convicts flocked onto the Gladius, White entered into his ship and quickly flew away from the prison.

The interior of the Gladius was surprisingly roomy, they all entered in between the bridge and the bowels of the ship. Callum dashed towards the ship's controls then rapidly flicked buttons as he tried to figure out the autopilot. The ship then roared to life, its engines blaring on the autopilot activated and they blasted away from the space prison. He let out a sigh of his own, then tried to steady his heart-rate as they flew away from the facility. The riot was only picking up in there, it did not look good for the Warden or his guards. The rioters would have control of it, then the Feds would need to come clean it up. The thought brought a smile to his face as the Gladius entered into hyperspace, its next destination plotted.

---

---

---

---

Scarleth smirked, a mischievous twinkle in her eye as she saw Callum begin to succumb to brutal murder. That was the Pirate King she had sworn loyalty to, the one that she spent arguably the prime of her life working for. She tore her gaze away, instead continuing to move forward and onward, staying close to Mr. White. His suit was anything but, covered in blood from countless criminals.

"You might want to get that dry cleaned," Scarleth suggested quietly, having silently moved right behind Mr. White. "Blood stains are awfully hard to get out of nice clothes..." She glanced up, smiling cutely. A darkness in her eyes suggested that the famed Ruby Red knew that all too well. It had been part of how she got her name, the spilling of blood on things meant for beauty and luxury.

She arched an eyebrow as Mr. White fled onto his own ship, before boarding the Gladius without looking even fazed about the events that just occurred. Death came as naturally to Scarleth as breathing did to others. She was born into death and destruction and chaos--she was raised in it. Callum had already dashed off to the controls and turned the ship on, and while others may have been curious about who to declare captain, Scarleth had other ideas.

"What are the coordinates?" Scarleth asked, her voice as soft as a knife. "It wouldn't be unheard of to get a feel for our mission before we arrive."

---

Well this had all gone straight to hell. Reaver paid little attention to the other members of his team, being pretty much nothing but petty to his eyes. He was almost relieved when they had shoved him and the rest outside right into a violent riot filled with mouth foaming inmates. One guy lunged at him, aiming a punch straight for his face. The cowboy caught the arm between his bound wrists, yanked the guy further forward and head butted him to the ground.

The next man to run up to him ready to attack fell short of his blow. They looked at each other. "Frankie?" Reaver asked. "Reaver! What are you doing here?" "Well you know, just making deals with Tycoons and Mob bosses." "Same old Reaver. Hey, nothing personal eh?" "Of course not bud." Reaver blocked a punch and rammed both of his fists into Frankie's face, sending him flying into the crowd. From behind the pile of bodies, he heard a voice. "Send me a postcard!"

Reaver smirked, and turned to follow his new 'comrades' to The Gladius. If that was what he did to his friends, he was going to take his time with Callum and any Black Stars once he got the chance. As they headed off, he decided to go into the armory and grab his equipment at his locker. He marveled at the sleek ship as he traversed it. Not bad.

He stepped in, the low thrum of the engines filling his ears, but all he heard was the promise of his old life back, and time to wreak vengeance. He let out a low whistle when he saw what toys were his. "They did their homework," he said. He loaded his guns, twirling one revolver fluidly and effortlessly before holstering it as he did the other. He opened up the Raptor sawed off, nodded, then rested it along his shoulder as he made his way towards the rest of his crew mates.

Though Jesse would've loved to stay and brutalize the rest of the rioters -something about strangling the life from a mans throat was extremely exhilarating to him -Mr. White was right. Jesse was damn good, but he wasn't that good, so he chose to fall back like the rest. Even as his future partners in "crime" fought off dregs of the prisoners, Jesse began moving away from the orgy of orange that threatened to overtake the motley crew of would-be-escapees. While he made a quick and careful strut away, Mr. White set a much quicker pace that Jesse was all too loathe to follow. Though he had kept himself fit out of boredom, a morning jog was not on his bucket list.

Jesse regretted his slower pace as he felt a hand heavily grip his shoulder. Not hesitating, he dipped backwards, delivering his elbow directly into the face of his attempted assaulter. He turned to finish off the failed combatant, only to stop when he recognized the face. "Holy shit, it's been too long, asshole! Jesse exclaimed, putting a name to the bloodied face. "Hey, remember that time you tried to kill me with a deck of cards and a TV?" He shouted above the din, kicking the man back into the crowd of rioters. "Yeah, so do I." He said in a more grim tone, turning to sprint away from the ever nearing wave. He managed to make some good distance and almost catch up to Mr. White, by some miracle of luck, though he was still a few solid paces behind. As he rushed through the guarded door, he could feel it slamming shut just behind him.

Jesse laughed slightly, bending over to catch his breath. What started as a light chuckle slowly grew to a cackle, then to full fledged bellowing laughter that racked his body and left him curled up on the floor. He stayed that way for a good few seconds before regaining his composure, and stumbling to his feet to follow the others into their new home -The Gladius. As he boarded the ship, he stretched out his arms wide, taking in a deep breath. This ship marked a new start -freedom, with a small caveat. A very small, very explosive caveat, inside his brain. Jesse did his best to not think about that last part.

Noting Callums haste to get the ship moving, Jesse gladly took his time meandering to find the first, most important thing he had heard Mr. White mention -weaponry and armor. Surely enough, some searching revealed an armory aboard the ship. "Goddamn if I'm not going to be armed as long as I'm on board with these jackholes." He thought to himself as he entered the armory. Most notable in the armory were crates labeled with the names of the inmates stacked inside the armory, which Jesse made a beeline for. Very carefully, he moved aside a crate labelled 'Scarleth "Ruby Red" Pevensey', to find his own name on the crate beneath.

Jesse's smile already wide, only grew wider as he cracked open his crate. Inside lied a suit, his guns, and more personal effects. Jesse quickly stripped from his bright orange jumpsuit, neither taking note of nor caring for his own indecency. Being locked in a moon jail with little to no entertainment gives one plenty of time to work on keeping in good form, and goddamn if Jesse hadn't used that time well. Taking his own sweet time, he squeezed the best he could into his old suit, which still fit surprisingly well. At each hip he holstered a Stallion revolver, and he stored two Pitbull pistols on his body -one in his boot, and one elsewhere. As soon as he was satisfied with his outfitting, Jesse exited the armory, storing the old jumpsuit in the crate which he pushed back into a corner.

Dressed to the nines now, in a light pink dress shirt and white suit, as well as armed and dangerous, Jesse felt better than he had in a long time. Was he trapped on a ship with seven assholes and an explosive implant in his head? Yeah. But, silver lining -he wasn't on that goddamned moon jail anymore. No better way to celebrate this than something inebriating, so Jesse began to stalk around the ship, hunting for the bar. As he walked, he pulled out his cards, and almost subconsciously shuffled the deck with elaborate flourishes in time with his movement.

The Gladius was a fine ship; advanced and weaponised to the rafters. The bridge, where they'd entered, was all harsh blues and sullen grays. Fitting, Henri thought, for its crew. She approached a work station and brought up the ship's plan. The armory on the first floor would be a hot spot whilst the others collected their weapons. Henri had other things on her mind.

There was no workshop to speak of, but in the bowels of the ship was the engineering deck. It would have everything she needed. She glanced over the room one last time. Most people were dispersing. Callum, of course, had naturally fallen into the leadership role. Henri had no issue, he had been a fine commander, but she wondered if anyone else would have something to say. Quietly (for once), she slipped away.

Henri let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding in when she reached the engineering deck. The clang of her footsteps echoed eerily down the hallway. Normally a place like this would be buzzing with engineers bringing in cargo, maintaining the FTL and sub-light engines, monitoring the environmental systems. Here, instead, the walls were lit up with the steady green lights of automated systems and repairs. Ships were slowly moving this way but even the best required a small engineering crew. The Gladius was truly a next generation ship. Still, they'd need someone for damage control and repairs that machines could not yet replace (well, at least not full machines). I can do that, Henri thought.

Despite the odd misplaced, the thrum of energy felt like home.

Henri sat down at a solitary work station and carefully placed her arm on the table. They'd made a meal of her circuitry. She gathered what she needed to restore it, pleasantly surprised by the provisions. Clearly, Mr White had anticipated her need as there were carefully labelled boxes of parts that were hardly necessary for a ship's running. She hummed as she worked.

During her work she peeled away the layer of synthetic skin, there was no need for it anymore. No need to blend in, not in this crowd. Unlike her legs, which were simply fit for purpose (speed and power), her arm was elegant. As close to a human replication that anyone would ever achieve with machine, with delicate tendons and wired-nerves all encased in a white nanocarbon plating. The exceptions being her own adjustments; the reinforced, charged vice-like fingers, and the battery in the upper arm which allowed a punch with enough force to kill a grown man. Henri watched as it slowly hummed back to life, fingers twitching until they could make a fist. She slumped back into the chair, satisfied. It was a relief, not only to have her main weapon returned to her, but also sensation.

She was desperate to try it out, feel that power again. If she remembered correctly, the plans had shown a training room...

@Aziraphale

Jackal was blinded by the bright sorceries of the ship. The lighting, bright crafts of the vessel was a bit much to what he was used to, but he didn't bother in trying to understand it. Instead he walked over to the crates left to them. He had trouble reading English characters, but he managed to make out his name on one of the crates. Upon opening his crate, to his delight, he found his religious symbols and took them with the hand on his left wing carefully, so as to no break them by accident. He then looked around him to see his other, smaller teammates. He knew he had to be acquainted with all of them eventually, but for now curiosity and intrigue had given him the thought of seeking one of the girls that complimented him earlier. However he couldn't seem to find her. Walking further he would let out his forked tongue, which slithered and rattled out from his lips and licked the air. He didn't know everyone's scent well, as due to their brief encounters, but he could make out a trail of scent much farther then the other sources. He followed the scent, occasionally banging into walls and doorways to his size and not paying attention. Occasionally he would get onto all fours and move from side to side much like the motion of a monitor lizard. He only stopped to have his tongue lick the air.

Eventually, he reached what was called the engine room. Though the matter in which he got there was far more tedious then the normal route since he doesn't understand the ship's layout. Various noises filled the room to his annoyance, both from machinery of the ship and from tools farther in the room. As he entered, he would get on his two hands and feet, crawling like a lizard once more. He moved slowly and silently, like a predator stalking his prey, old habits die hard. Occasionally, his tail would hit a piece of metal or a claw struck the floor, that and his faintly glowing eyes could give away his presence.The heat from the loud engines distracting him. The firey sorcery attracted the beast to crawl over it, making some noise of tough claws over quality metal as he crawled on top a burning hot piece of magic. To most, the heat would burn skin off bone, but the Gorgas thrives in these temperatures, in fact it was a nice escape from the cold atmosphere of the ship. His yellow eyes fell upon the girl, as he ended up a bit above her and to the side. He was in good view of watching her work on her arm.

Witchcraft. The primitive dragon thought.

As stories told by his elders when he was a hatchling, witches were not to be trifled with. They had supernatural and other wordly powers that are to be feared and ostracized. A cold chill ran down the otherwise intimidating reptile. That arm was certainly other-wordly. In fact it wasn't just her arm, but her legs too.
Jackal watched in silence as the witch finished her craft of the dark arts. In fear he thought how could she be an ally and should she be trusted. Perhaps her interest was a mere lure to turn the poor runt of a hellkite into lizard stew.

Callum had finally calmed himself, the Pirate King's nerves no longer at a fever pitch as he exited the bridge of the Gladius. The ship was safely heading along on its destination which they would need to all be briefed on. By what the autopilot stated, it would be a few hours before they arrived there. He walked silently around the ship, what was on his mind was all of his equipment. After a few minutes of wandering around the ship and memorizing its features he found himself in the armory. It was devoid of weaponry or armor, the walls filled with empty racks. Right by the door were crates, one of them had his name printed on top of it.

Bingo.

He quickly undid the hinges then yanked the top off of the box, a smile was on his face as he noticed his old rifle. He almost couldn't believe it was there, Callum was certain he wasn't hallucinating as he picked it up and simply ran his hands along it. He set it aside and pulled out the rest of his equipment, it was all there, everything he needed. His armor that he had been captured in, the insigna of the Black Stars burnt off of it by the Feds. They just had to do that, a final reminder of his old life gone like everything else. Callum stuck all of it back into the crate then carried the heavy container towards the captain's cabin. That was his room, he was the first one on the ship, he was the boss.

It was a more spacious room than the crew cabins, a large televison on one side, a comfy full sized bed by a window which gave a beautiful view of the stars. There was even a potted planted there which he was certain was artificial. Behind a comfortable looking couch was a full bookshelf. He locked his assault rifle and armor inside of a cabinet on the other side of the room. Then Callum changed out of his worn, old prison jumpsuit. He wanted to burn it, see it go up in flames. This was freedom, perhaps handicapped freedom but he was not stuck behind a forcefield anymore.

He quickly changed into a casual set of clothes, a white t shirt, a leather jacket, dark slacks and boots. Finally he tucked his loaded sidearm into one side of his pants, he didn't feel safe yet around the others. Perhaps in time, but it never hurt to be sure. Callum locked the cabin behind him and moved towards the bar. A real smile came onto his face as he stumbled into it. It was a spacious room, on one side was a fully stocked bar, in front were stools. Bottles of all types of liquor behind the bar. On the opposite side of the room was a couch which went around a large table. It was all made to look like a fake wood.

Callum squeezed behind the bar as he searched for a bottle of whiskey. The Pirate King found some, he popped open the bottle and smelled it. The alcohol fueled scent was like roses to him. He poured himself a glass, dropped a few ice cubes inside, then sat down in front of the bar. It was the most comfortable seat he'd had in a long time. The bottle sat beside him as he brought the drink to his lips. He let the strong liquid swirl in his mouth, then swallowed it. The first bit of booze he'd had in almost six years. It tasted like paradise.

Scarleth had already unpacked her possessions, storing the multiple daggers and pistols in some places obvious, some concealed, and some that would terrify ordinary, decent people. She spent the first half hour learning the ship, memorizing the way that each hall went, where each door went to. Mentally, she spotted areas where security would be weak, places that would be vulnerable, to be avoided in the dark. By the time she completed her rounds of the vessel, she knew it better than her own name. Dressed in a chic black shirt with lace on the arms, partnered with formfitting black pants and her signature ruby ring, Scarleth had already claimed a room as her own. Had she been younger, she would have carved her initials into it. Instead, she left her locket on the bed. Hardly anyone here, she surmised, would be willing to cross Ruby Red.

However, something key had been missing from her belongings. Her signature mixture of poison. Musing that perhaps something in the bar would suffice instead, she made her way down the long halls, pausing outside the door of the bar. Remaining hidden, a quick peak confirmed her suspicions. Callum, the weakly coward, was inside drinking. With the silence and stealth that had brought her to the attention of the Black Stars, she entered the bar and approached Callum from behind.

"If I wasn't feeling kind, you'd be dead," Scarleth warned, her voice a near velvety purr. Her fingers curled around Callum's shoulder, and she tilted her head at him, as if deciding what weapon would be the most pleasing to kill him with. A moment later, she pulled away, and fetched a glass for herself. It wouldn't hurt to sample the alcohol.

Callum had the glass to his lips when he heard the familar footsteps. His positive expression disappeared in an instant. First he heard her words, confident and bold with a threat front and center. Then she dared to touch him after saying such things. His freehand moved towards the pistol tucked into his hip. He watched as she moved away from him, a wise decision.

"Didn't you see what I did during the riot? I had to scrub a man's head matter off my boot. Now I'm armed, it wouldn't be wise to taunt me. I've killed women before. Been a while but you never get rusty with that sort of thing." Callum retorted as his fingers swirled the glass of dark alcohol around the glass, the ice knocking against the sides gently. His eyes firmly upon her as each word left his mouth.

Scarleth smirked, feigning a bite at Callum. She poured herself a hefty amount of alcohol, before setting the bottle aside. Not a single ounce of fear displayed on her face or in her movement, and like the taunting temptress she pretended to be, she slid into the seat next to Callum. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she took a sip of her drink, her gaze at him unblinking. "You know that I don't scare, love. You selected me yourself, remember?"

"I did. That was a long time ago, years ago, when the Stars were the most feared group in the galaxy. Are you still as good as you were then?" Callum asked her, half tauntingly. She was right, he had handpicked her for recruitment. Then he did something bold as he yanked the pistol from below the bar and set it right in front of him, his finger gently resting against the safety as he looked Scarleth right in the eyes.

"Evaluate me, then," Scarleth quipped, not even glancing at the pistol. All of her life, she had been trained in reading people. But now, she didn't even need that. If Callum pulled the trigger, the Federation would set off the bomb in his skull. It would be suicide, and thus, she could continue her little game. Taking another sip of the whiskey, she perused the shelves of the bar, her fingers trailing lightly on them. And suddenly, she paused.

"Do you recall the Lanun guard who passed?" Scarleth asked, her voice hardly above a whisper. "Poisoning. What a shame," she finished, her tone playful, dry, and implicating all at once. "That was kill number fifty seven, I believe."

"Only fifty seven?" Callum asked her with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. "I had sixty within my first two weeks as a pirate. I lost count years ago, it's a shame I still remember my first kill. It was a Vaxir, some merchant, a dirty one who lied to me and my companions. I was tasked with ending him, to show how tough I was. I took my knife and put it against his scaly throat."

He had moved one of his hands to his neck and pressed his thumb against the side of his throat. His fingers on the other hand still nestled the safety of his sidearm.

"I jabbed the blade into his neck, green blood splattered out. See Vaxir have tough skin, you really have to put some force behind it. The merchant stared up at me with near-lifeless eyes as I dragged the knife to the other side of his throat. He knew that was it. I did it slowly, too fast and I would have had blood all over my shoes. He dropped dead and I wiped my blade clean." Callum said, a smile on his face as he took another swig of his glass. He finished it off, then poured some more from the bottle.

Scarleth shrugged. "Perhaps you should have assigned more targets," Scarleth suggested, taking Callum's drink from him, and drinking from his glass. A whimiscal grin, a sadistic one, graced her face. "Though I must say, my line of work doesn't lend itself to sixty kills in two weeks...People begin to talk." She chuckled a bit, finishing off Callum's drink, and setting the glass back down on the counter. For a moment, she couldn't help but feel pensive, remembering her "audition" for the major gangs of the galaxy.

It had been her first kill: one of the other assasins present. Everyone had wanted her since then, but for some odd reason, she chose the Black Stars. The pay ranges among the mmore prestigious gangs were all the same. In the end, the choice had been a random one. That, and the Black Stars ended up wooing her godfather for her.

"I don't have many enemies. I crushed them all or forced them to join me and they simply fell in line." Callum said with a shrug as she took his glass then downed it for him. He scratched his freshly shaven chin, then rose out of seat. He tucked his pistol back into his waist then moved around the bar and pulled a bottle of tequila from one of the shelves along with two shot glasses. He filled both then pushed one towards Scarleth.

"You think they stuck us together on purpose? They had to, maybe they thought we'd work well together." Callum asked as he stood behind the bar, his fingers grasping the small glass.

"Funny that," Scarleth mused, grasping the shot and swishing the liquid in it idly. "I can't recall ever spending this much time with you in person," she then explained. Her contact had been through concealed messages, through coded holograms. It was a very rare moment when Ruby Red would be left alone with the Pirate King. The gang had been more of a cult, organized to protect its leader to the very end. "But I will kill you one day, Callum. I never miss a mark. You know that very well."

"I believe you are the one hundreth person to say those exact words to me. That sounds like something to drink to, to me." Callum said with a wink, then tapped his glass against her's as a single drop of teqila leaped out of it. He downed the shot a moment later.

"All ninty nine people before you ended up dead. I'd hate to see that happen to someone like you." Callum added as he pushed the glass it, it sliding to the opposite end of the bar.

Chuckling a bit, Scarleth downed her shot. The slightest indications of the alcohol affecting her were beginning to start, as a warm feeling filled her body. "I would be glad to die," she murmured. She stood up from her seat and moved right behind Callum, and licked the back of his ear. Pulling away, she headed towards the exit, her face void of any expression or emotion. "Farewell, you sad little king," Scarleth mocked, opening the door, and finally leaving as oddly and suddenly as she had entered.

Callum shook his head at her words. They didn't scare him. If she killed him then her brains would be splattered all the interior of the Gladius. The Feds would have to clean that mess up, he started to laugh at the image. Some hazmat suited idiot moping up brains next to Callum's body with a dozen stab wounds in it. He grasped the bottle of whiskey and his glass then moved towards the couch, practically falling into it.

Walking arm in arm with the Lanun, Max was relieved to finally be in the ship. After the bulk of the group had made it on the Gladius, congregating in groups or rooms, Max was finally able to make his silent escape away from the group. Once he was clear from sight, far down a hallway, he slipped his mask off, relishing the feeling of fresh air, how ever fresh it could be on a spacecraft, anyways. With mask stuck under arm, Max's hands began wiping dried blood and sweat from his face, rubbing the sore spots on his face, beginning to bruise. Max's gaze fell to the tear in his jacket, a jagged rip where the shiv had stabbed into his bionic arm.

Gonna have to replace that skin when I get the chance. Maybe that one girl knows something about it? He never did catch the name of just about anyone that he was now bunking with. It hadn't really hit him yet, being free from prison. Stuck in a cell for 4 years, Max has become used to being a caged animal of sorts, always gathering sideways glances and curious stares from prisoners and guards alike.

"...You all have personalized weapons, apparel and equipment stored on the vessel..."

Max gave the empty space in front of him an intruiged look, thinking back to what Mr. White had told them before he made his own great escape. He wondered if they had brought Vagabond. As long as he got Vagabond back, he didn't care.

He stopped. Turning his head to the right, he noticed he had been walking past bunk rooms for the last few minutes. They weren't labeled, and as far as Max knew, they were all the same room, so he walked in the nearest one, and made himself at home, as much as he could at least.

He set his mask, clad in a few fresh scratches he'd have to buff out, on his desk, and shut the door behind him. There was a small door to the left, which Max found out led to a small closet. No skeletons, though.

Guess the bathrooms are communal. Great.

Max peered into the mirror that hung on the door, seeing the cuts on his face, hard to see against his black skin. His hair was a slight lavender fuzz, having grown back a bit since his last mandated haircut. No more of those, Max thought. Heaving a sigh, Max sat on his bed, beginning to wonder what the future on a convict ship held for him.



Taka was still staring at the airlock when she felt the floor beneath her give a lurch and throw her off balance. She caught herself on a smooth metal wall, looking around with excitement in her eyes. "That was awesome! Can we do it again?!" She asked, brushing a stray strand of crimson stained hair from her face.

A pout formed on her face for a moment, hearing a lack of agreement, before she remembered the words of White. He had said her stuff would be here, but where? She watched the rest of the group wander off and decided there was no use hanging around by herself. She delved further into the first level, skipping through the halls as she stared at literally everything with child-like wonderment -even the lights. It was a pretty drastic change compared to the cell she'd been living in, for however long that was, probably about an eternity.

The poked her head into a door and saw a familiar sight, rows of nearly empty weapon racks, prep tables, and so forth. She skipped her way into the armory, lifting and examining the few objects and personal items there in ernest. Some of them were pretty cool, the others had some pretty neat weapons, and she was pretty sure that flat, roundish thing exploded. She resisted the urge to take it and rather meandered through the space, looking for her things.

In the corner of a room, just barely poking out of a large metal crate of assaorted junk was the barrel of 'Honey Badger'. Taka let out a happy squeal, looking over the junk carefully. A lot of it seemed like some confiscated scrap and half finished projects from her old workshop. The assortment of metal bits, wiring, and various other components looked to be in relatively good shape too, aside from a thick lather of dust. Nobody said anything about Taka getting a shop here on the ship, so she figured the next best thing was to push the crate to her room- "Oh gosh, I have to claim a room!" She excalimed, frantic worry building up inside her. She didn't want to get the worst room.

She put her hands on the edge of the box and pushed with everything she had- moving it about an inch. Her face furrowed as she mustered her strength and slammed her shoulder into it-

"Ow-ow-ow!" She whined, rubbing her shoulder with a frown. She crouched down, digging her heels in and pushed. Slowly, and steadily, making her way out of the armory. Once she got a good slide going the box was only half a million tons, which was somewhat manageable. After what was probably a full human lifespan, she found herself able to work the box into the elevator, though the rude thing barely left her space to stand. She punched level 'two', and hummed to the tune of the motor as the elevator moved down.



Blood. Blood and gore. Faces getting punch, slapped, beat in by lead pipes. Fangs digging into nacks, drinking blood. Screeching. Really loud screeching.

Max shot up in bed, his eyes resisting being opened, and burned because the lights in the room. How long had he been asleep? The images of the battle beforehand had disappered for the most part from his mind, but one thing remained. That horrid screeching. The sound was muffled, seeming to come from outside his room. He shook his head, wondering what horror awaited him on the other side. Standing from bed, he walked to the door, grabbing his mask from the desk and putting it on, before finally sticking his head out of the door.

A heavy metal box was being ever so slowly shoved and pushed across the floor, and behind it, giving the weak pushes was the pink skinned Nohvan that had captured his attention before. Max's throat tightened as she looked up at him, and they locked eyes. Well, eyes and mask.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Taka chimed, looking up at him, Well, beauty is heavy." She gave a soft grunt as she dug in again, using her might to slide the box a solid couple of inches more down the hall.

A bit of air shot of out Max's nose in a slight laugh, as he shook his head , walking completely out of the room. Planting his feet near the edges of the box, Max reached down and took the crate by it's handles, and lifted upwards, being stopped dead in his tracks as the box remained planted. With a shake of the head, Max squatted down, taking a tighter grip of the box, and heaving upwards, legs and back bearing the weight of the box. Taka blinked, watching him lift the burden. Unsteadily at first, the box rose, and Max huffed as he put it up on his shoulder, holding each end to keep it balanced.

He glanced down at the Pink Nohvan, and give a single inquisitive nod.

"Right, onwards noble Nohvan! To the last room on.. ah.. uuuhh.. The left!" She shouted valintly, pointing towards their destination as if signalling a charge.

Taken aback, Max's gaze lingered for a bit longer than it should've, before his feet finally left their spot and he moved forward, with the pink one in tow.

How does she already know I'm a Nohvan? Is it really who I think it is? Thoughts began to race in Max's head, but came to sudden screeching halt when he glanced at his hands, which were uncovered. Who else would have mottled black and grey skin but a Nohvan? He shook his excitement off, feeling stupid, and kept his pace up as his opposite skipped in front of him.

The pair arrived at the door, and the pink one jauntily pushed the door button on the wall, "Boop!". This room was just about as mundane and cramped as his, but there were a few minor differences. No mirror on the closet, a different generic photo in the desk holograph display. Max slid the box off his shoulder, setting it down with a solid thump on the floor. He stood back up straight and stretched out his left arm, not really anything but the joint smoothly rotating in place.

"Boy that metal arm sure does come in handy, doesn't it?" Taka asked, poking a finger at the exposed section of his arm.

Max sat confused for a second, before he noticed the tear on his jacket was sitting open, the metal of his arm slightly shining in the bright lights of the room. His hand found the tear, and formed a fist, which clenched the fabric together, only for it to reopen when his grip realeased.

"Yeah, bionic arms tend to help when it comes to certain things. Lifitng boxes, smashing faces, what have you. While we're on the topic, how about we keep the whole bionic arm business between the two of us, huh?"

Taka began rummaging through the box, tilting her head slightly up at Max at his request, "Why would you want to keep something so cool so secret?"

Max looked away, genuinely thinking for a moment why he felt so intent on keeping so many things secret from this new pirate crew he had been thrust in. After a moment, he finally spoke, his voice softer than before.

"Well, for a lot of reasons, honestly. But... the first that comes to mind is something I learned when I was a lot younger: the more someone knows about you, the more they can exploit your weaknesses. The less they know, the stronger you are. Just how I think, at least.

"But if nobody ever knows you, won't you be lonely?" Taka asked, wrestling Honey Badger from it's pointy metal prison. The gun had a few dings and dents that would have to be buffed out, but was completely intact for the most part. Honey's acessories could be worried about later.

Max's eyes widened a bit as the women yanked a large weapon out of her crate, but shook the surprise off to answer her question. "Well, criminals like me aren't really meant to have many friends anyway. Loneliness is part of the job. Speaking of which, what did a girl like you do to end up on this ship?"

Taka paused for a moment, stuck between staring at the Nohvan and setting Honey Badger on her narrow bed, "What? Same as you, silly, did you forget about all the fun we had getting here? Man, that was fun," she said, letting out a regretful sigh. Honey found its place on her bed and she stuck her arms back into the box, tossing out random bits and pieces.

With a slight chuckle, Max shook his head, leaning against the wall near the door.
"No, kid, I mean, why were you in jail with people like me and Pirate King? You don't exactly look like a vicious killer, or a thief, or any sort of criminal for that matter. What the hell did you do?"

"Ya' know," Taka started, sitting back and tapping a finger against her lip in rememberance, "I asked them them the same thing. They had a long list, like, super long, but the judge seemed to get really angry at the part where I blew up a space station. Thought I was doing the universe a favor, sheesh," Taka shrugged, spotting the strap to her backpack. She dug back into the box, attempting to just yank it out.

Stunned, Max was stricken silent for a moment. Space station? Is she saying she's the one that blew up Sigma Station? Max swallowed his shock, trying his best not to sound surprised.

"You? You blew up Sigma Station? Big ass, huge fucking explosion? You?"

Taka glanced back at him, eyes wide and shimmering as she remembered the explosion, "Beautiful wasn't it?"

"What's that one Nohvan expression? Saumnmasos oa fao ra'auc oaiyllhomo?" Max sputtered out, stiffly trying to speak in his native tongue, which obviously wasn't very native to him.

"Surprises can be found anywhere?" Taka translated, finally ripping her pack free of the junk. Her hand immediately disappeared into its depths as she replied, "So what's the surprise then?"

"Well, let's just find out how many surprises can be found here. Max left the wall he was leaning on, and took a few steps closer to the Nohvan in front of him, and sat down on the floor near her, crossing his legs while she dug through her bag.

"Listen. About a whole 34 years ago, I was kidnapped right? Right off the homeworld, right out of the sea. I spent a few years on a slaver ship, got beat like fuck, the usual. Well, old Maxy didn't have a name, or any friends. That is, until, I met these two little Nohvan girls, not too much younger than me, but they looked a lot like you do. Nice pink skin, the greenish, turquoise hair, even the same color eyes as you. They were my first friends, and they gave me my first name: Polka Dots. And their names? Onimani and Takakiko. They were my friends for a while, but then I got sold away and I never got to see them again. Sad, right? My question to you is: Are you one of these girls?" Max took a breath once he was finished talking. These last few hours had some of the most talking he'd done in years.

Taka stopped rummaging in her bag and cast her gaze to the floor. Something deep within welled up inside of her during his exposition, a hurt she couldn't place. The kind of hurt that made your stomach lurch and your heart constrict. Some dark memory fluttered at the back of her consciousness, but she fought against it. It wasn't something she wanted remember. The bodies... the ship.. the stars out the windows obscurred by swathes of blood and gore. She shook herself slightly, forcing a smile.

"I don't know a Maxy, but I know a Polka Dots, he has skin like you I think, but that was a long time ago and he got sold to some rich.. family.. oh man, are you Polka Dots?" She asked, her bewilderment felt slightly feinged. She'd guessed his identity back in the conference room, but even now that she was sure it only felt like reaffirming what she already knew.

Polka Dots remained silent, and reached up to his neck, finding the release to his mask. He flipped them, and the grip on his neck and chin relaxed. He slid the mask off, and placed it beside himself, facing the girl.

"I mean, I'm a little cut up from the fun we had earlier, but, I still kinda look the same, don't I? Same color hair, same kinda skin, same stupid antenna on my head. I'm still Polka Dots, in someway or another at least. Except I actually have a name now. Maxamillian."

Taka let out a happy little gasp, bounding to her feet. "Polka Dots!" she exclaimed, reaching up and gently wiggling his atennae. Her emotions washed away, crushed beneath actual excitement, had she been doubting herself? She had been so sure, but, that didn't explain the joy she felt now. "Oh man what did you do exactly?" She asked, letting go and transitioning into a brief hug.

"I totally thought it was you, but, I mean, this is great! Now we can explode stuff together!"

Squeezing the pink Nohvan tightly, Max gave the most audible and happy chuckles he had given in a long time. The embrace was immensely comforting for him, nearly cathardic.

"Oh man, what didn't I do at this point. I mean, I certainly didn't blow up a whole damned station, but, I've done my fair share. Smuggling mostly, a few murders here and there..." Max's voice fell silent, and his gaze fell away from Taka as he began to reflect on his long list of criminal offenses, before snapping out of his trance and looking back up at his friend. "Exploding stuff, together with Onimani, huh? I'm sure we'll get plenty of opprotunities to do that with the kind of work we're doing."

Taka blinked, stunned by the name. How long had it been since she was?-...A long time. "Actually.. uh.." She stammered, fighting the rift forming in her reality. The last thing she ever expected was for somebody that had been close to her in the past to walk back into her life. "It's Taka, I uhm.. changed my name.. Taka.. er.. my.." Taka bit her knuckle, casting her eyes down towards the floor as the pain that wasn't really pain bubbled up inside of her. Her hand shook softly as she tried desperately not to remember.

Red.. stained on the glass.. on the seats.. on her hands..

She wiped at the water welling in her eyes before beaming a smile at Max "But everybody just calls me Princess, okay? She said, the same ebullient tone thick in her voice.

A look of confused concern painted Max's face. At the mention of her name, Princess had been seemingly stunned. He could see her eyes begin to water, her hand starting to quiver, before all of sudden breaking from her trance and smiling him. What had he said?

She changed her name to Taka...Wha- As a realization hit Max, his look of concern turned to one saddened understanding. He cracked a weary smile, only a fraction of what Taka was beaming, and laid a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Princess. And a very pretty princess at that."He smiled.

After sitting for a moment mulling over the reaction he had just gotten out of princess, he gave her a loving rustle of her hair as he stood from the floor next to her.

"Hey, there's a crate with my name on it in the armory, and I have a weapon in it calling my name. If you want to tag along, that's you, but if you'd rather stay in your room, I don't mind. I'll call you when they start serving mess if you want." He said softly.

"Exploring the ship with Dots? Pfffh-" She said, jumping to her feet and blowing out a puff of air, "That sounds like a fine time." Suddenly it just dawned on her, she was still wearing a blood stained jumpsuit and she could feel the blood crusting on her face.

"Just let me change okay?" She asked, her face pinching in mirth, "A princess should always look... well.. not like this," She explained with a quiet chuckle.

Smirking, Max kneeled over and picked his mask up, putting it back on, securing the release, with the lights of the HUD glowing to life.

"I'll be outside when you're done." Max said, turning around and heading out the door.

"Don't keep me waiting another 16 years."

Tesra was not much of a fighter, and she knew enough to know when a situation was slipping out of her control. Down one arm and with just two downed prisoners to show for it, the Lanun felt that now was the time to slip away into the night, or at least to that cool looking ship.

Dipping between two very tall prisoners locked in a fistfight, Tesra slipped away from the previous scene and wormed her way through the rioters towards where the others were, easily recognizable by the trails of destruction that some of them left in their wake. Occasionally dodging a few punches and throwing some of her own with her remaining hand, she just caught sight of Mr. White just down the hall when a something big jumped into view. She tried to dodge, but with the missing arm throwing her off-balance it was a lost hope, and Tesra took a straight shot to the stomach, knocking her flat on her back. Taking great shuddering breaths to replace the ones that were forcefully knocked out of her, she helplessly looked upwards to see a muscular, bald human standing over her, a sneer across his ugly face and a wicked looking piece of jagged metal in his hands coated in multicolored blood. His jumpsuit had been torn, exposing the words inked on his arm in a dead human language, though Tesra still knew exactly what it said. Advena ad mortem. Death to the alien.

"More filthy xenos coming my way," the towering man said coarsely, a bloodthirsty look behind his eyes. "Wonder if this one has anything to say before it gets pounded into a greasy smear."

"W-well," Tesra began, only to find out she was too short of breath for a decent comeback. "You...you're bald..." Swallowing nervously, she braced for the inevitable kill shot before a miraculous sound met her ears. Echoing cleanly over the sounds of the prison riot around her was the sound of a mean, snarling bark, getting closer and closer at a fast rate. For a moment, Tesra wondered how he had gotten loose before something big, sleek, and hairy entered her peripheral vision. The man screamed loudly and dropped the hunk of metal in his hands as a black and teal furred Sovac sunk its teeth into his leg. Tesra pushed herself up with her good arm and smiled up at her freshly bleeding opponent.

"Baldy, meet Sigmund. Or have you met?"

Screaming a litany of curses and xeno-slurs at Tesra and her Sovac, Tesra's attacker turned tail and ran, his trousers torn to shreds by the hand of Sigmund. Tesra rubbed a hand over her stomach to check for permanent damage but was interrupted when Sigmund wandered over and started licking her face with his long snakelike tongue, his lengthy tail wagging around happily.

"Haha, stop it that tickles!" Tesra shouted, shoving her Sovac backwards as she got to her feet. "I missed you too Siggy, but right now we gotta get on a ship and get out of here! Just follow Mommy and we'll get off of this rock forever, okay?" Sigmund gave a short happy-sounding bark and circled around to follow at her heels. This time with the vicious looking predator behind her, no one tried to stop her as she made a made dash for the ship, easily catching up to Mr. White and the others. She and Sigmund were the last to slide under the door as it slammed shut behind them, with Sigmund lifting his tail out of the way with a yelp seconds before the heavy metal slammed down.

"Hey, it's not like you don't have enough tail to spare," Tesra joked, prompting the Sovac to growl angrily as they sprinted onto the waiting Gladius just as the hanger doors began to close.

-----

"You know, this place isn't half bad," Tesra said admiringly. "Bit more spartan I'll admit, but on the whole it beats a kennel, right Siggy?"

Sigmund gave a warbling bark that could have meant a yes and started weaving back and forth along the corridors, checking for anything suspicious, dangerous, or most likely tasty. Together the pair of them made their way to the armory, a bit after everyone else had gone, where Tesra was pretty sure her old stuff was stored. She didn't really need all of her guns yet, but if they counted her arm as a weapon because of the shiv it would have most likely been there. These wires were starting to itch, and she didn't want to infringe on that McCoy guy's trademark.

It didn't take long to find, thankfully. Pushing aside a box labelled "Henrietta [Henri] Larsson", she quickly spotted her own name lying just underneath it scrawled in a military font. "Tesra Emidyn Kao"

"You know if they were going to butcher it THAT badly they might as well have just written Ghost. Or Sexiest Lanun Alive. Either works," Tesra commented with a sigh before tossing aside the lid with a flourish, which Sigmund caught in his teeth. Lying inside were a couple papers, some clothes, her favorite rifle, and most importantly...

"YES!" Tesra shouted, reaching into the box and pulling out a small bag. Sigmund's orange eyes widened at the sight of it as he dropped the lid and sat obediently in front of her, his tongue lolling out of his mouth excitedly. Smiling, the Lanun tipped the bag over into her hand and produced a few small marble-toned red cubes. She playfully chucked them one at a time into the air, laughing as Sigmund leaped to his hind legs and lashed out with his tongue to catch the cubes each time. Leaving Sigmund to munch happily on his treats, Tesra turned her attention to the crate again, shedding her jumpsuit in favor of the trousers and light jacket she liked to wear, setting aside her 'work clothes' for later and loading her pockets with all of her junk. Digging through the rest of her things, Tesra finally spotted her old arm lying crooked in the bottom of the box. With an air of finality, she tugged what was left of the prison's bionic arm out of its socket and plugged her good arm back in. Sensation flowed to her fingertips as Tesra reached out with her old arm to scratch Siggy's head behind the ears, deeply enjoying the familiar feeling of his soft, scratchy fur on her old arm again.

"So Siggy, I got all my stuff back!" Tesra continued. "What say we go see who our new friends are?"

"Alert, the Gladius has arrived at its destination, the planet Glacies in the Zeta Orionis system. Please report to the bridge for debriefing."

A female voice echoed through the ship from its intercom. Proceeding the alert was the slight shaking of the vessel as it emerged from hyperspace. Both these events had awoken Callum from his slumber.

The Pirate King's eyes had shot open as his inadvertent nap ended. He was still in the bar room, alone and spread out on the couch. He had been out for hours, a power nap he wasn't planning on taking when he landed on the comfortable piece of furniture. His body had other thoughts in mind, the couch was a welcome change from the hard prison bed. He sat upwards, the bottle of whiskey was on the table next to his glass which had tipped onto its side.

Callum stood up with a stretch and a yawn. He had not been on a space faring vessel in a long time, he would have to readjust to a life of travel through the stars. A starship's shakes and quivers would be subtle to someone more used to pace travel. He scratched his chin and turned towards the window in the room, outside them a small blue world could be seen. Two even smaller moons hung around it, they seemed like specks in the darkness of space as the Gladius sat in orbit above Glacies. Callum quietly exited the room and moved down the long hallways of the ship. The voice must have been an automated system on the vessel, he doubted it'd come equipped with an artificial intelligence, that would be another added risk.

He entered the bridge, the ship's controls were empty as he walked around them down to the lower section which served as a briefing area. The display showed the same beautiful sight as the bar room. A little baby blue world covered clouds. Where the clouds broke there was just more white as it was covered with ice. Callum was the first one on the bridge. The others would come at their own pace. Or they wouldn't and the chips in their heads would explode and he'd have one less person to be paranoid about stabbing him in the back. Either way he was there first and got a head-start on the mission briefing.

By the time he had read over most of the data the rest of the crew had shown up. Each one that walked onto the ship behind him were accounted for. Callum leaned against the console, his arms crossed as he counted heads. Once they were all there he stepped forward towards the display in the center.

"Our first mission together is on the world we are currently orbiting, Glacies. It's a blistering cold rock, the air is breathable but its still a dangerous place. At night the temperature dips to inhuman levels and there's hostile wildlife to be wary of. It is home to a small research facility, a few hundred scientists live there and study the world. We seem to have been summoned here because the facility has gone silent." Callum stated, as he hit on the key points in the briefing.

"This briefing says nothing about what we might be facing. They don't suspect raiders, slavers or pirates." Callum said, the final word coming out more slowly than the others. This wouldn't be the Stars' doing, what valuables would a bunch of scientists on an ice cold rock have?

"I think we're walking into a trap, but that just might be my paranoia speaking. Why they choose this for our first mission leads credence to the trap theory. The Feds don't want to deal with it themselves, they might not even know what made the world go quiet. We are their expendable spec ops team after all...If whatever silenced the scientist takes us out then they can sweep it all under the rug." He stated, adding his own input.

"We can dock the Gladius by the facility, then investigate it. One or two people should stay on the ship, to keep it safe just in case something happens." Callum added as he looked around at his fellow criminals. His eyes then rested on the holographic display of Glacies. Something seemed very fishy about this scenario to him.

"Anyone have anything they'd like to add about the mission?" He asked.

---

---

---

---

Music filled the training room, as Scarleth threw dagger after dagger at the targets. With each throw, she twirled them a bit, and gradually began to throw in different acrobatics. She did flips, handstands, and even threw in some 360 combat routines. Once she ran out of knives, she switched to her gun, shooting bullet after bullet. She never missed, a dead shot. By the time she ran out of ammunition, even then, Scarleth wasn't done. Doing backflips down the range, she retrieved her knives, only to throw them again, dodging the firing of imaginary throws. Strangely, in the midst of this imagined combat, Scarleth was at her most beautiful. She didn't fit in, herself, among finery and china. That was a façade that she wore, one that made her appear to belong.

Her eyes glanced upwards, hearing the announcement across the ship. Pressing the lightest kiss to her weapon, she reloaded it, as well as retrieving her knives once more. From the communications, Scarleth figured that it was going to be decently cold. Pulling the hood up on her uniform, she put the slight cloth across her face, only keeping her eyes visible. It wasn't going to be a mission that would need her to seduce anyone, and she didn't particularly feel like catching a cold.

Making her way to the bridge, Scarleth listened quietly to Callum's briefings. The lack of information wasn't something that she particularly enjoyed. Her line of trade revolved around understanding the enemy before the enemy had a chance to understand her. It was to kill quickly, to get in and get out. All information would be given to her, allowing her to know the location better than she knew herself.

And here, here she was sent on a suicidal mission with no information. Had emotions not been drilled out of her, turning her into a textbook psychopath, she would have felt a little of the same fear. Instead, Scarleth stared ahead, unwavering. Now wasn't the time to allow herself to feel her emotions. It was time to get to work.

"We need more information than this," Scarleth said simply, her eyes flickering over to Callum. "A small group should investigate prior to launching any sort of attack. Recklessness will only ensure our deaths."

After finally finding the bar on board the ship, Jesse was rather pleased to find a passed out Callum on the couch. Reaching behind the counter to grab a bottle of champagne, before turning to the slumbering pirate king. He leaned down over the man, getting face to dozing face. "You and I are going to have so much FUN." He whispered, placing a hand just above Callums head on the couch. He laughed as he walked away, going from a light snicker to a heavy chuckle as he made it out the door of the bar, bottle of champagne still in hand.

After a few wrong turns through the halls, and an elevator ride that took all too long, Jesse found his way to the training room. He stood in the doorway for a moment, watching as Scarleth tore apart the targets with a barrage of knifeplay that was a hell of a lot more impressive than he had expected. "Hellooo, beautiful." Jesse muttered under his breath. Though her taste in music left something to be desired, he couldn't deny her skills and grace. Though the tag floating above her head was a mellow green color, he added a small red skull next to the floating text as he gently sauntered in, taking a hold of one of the training dummies that she wasn't using. He gave her a quick salute as he left the room, bottle in hand as he drug the dummy out from the room.

Another trek through the halls gave Jesse more walking than he had done in his entirety of his stay in the lunar prison. He arrived in the lounge, and took a seat in a couch, setting the dummy across from the chair on the other side of the room. Music rang out through the lounge, as Jesse cracked open the bottle of champagne, taking a deep drink. Cheap shit, but in comparison to what he had access to on the LMSIF, it was like drinking liquid gold. If liquid gold were edible, that is.

For what seemed like hours, Jesse sat back in the chair, head nodding to the beat of the silent whizzing of laser shots that sounded out from his revolver. One after the other, shot after shot, lasers pounded into the head of the training dummy across the room. Every shot hit almost dead center in the head of the dummy, leaving a red hot cluster of laser burns in the head of the dummy no more than a centimeter around. As Jesse drank more, and fired more rounds, eventually the burning mark in the head was turned into a hole, letting him see through to the wall behind the dummy. He smirked, pleased with his work, before sitting back deeper into his chair.

Jesse's eyes slowly slid shut, and his head drooped. When his eyes opened again, it was thanks to the shaking of the Gladius. How long he had been out, he honestly had no idea. Likely better that way. He staggered to his feet at the announcement, and made his way up to the bridge at his own leisure. He entered the room in time to catch the hind end of Callums breifing, and Scarleths interjection. He hardly thought he'd need any more information than that, anyways.

"A small group should investigate prior to launching any sort of attack. Recklessness will only ensure our deaths."

"Sign me up. I need to stretch my legs." Jesse said, raising a hand as if to volunteer. "Been too long since I've flexed the old trigger finger."

Henri flexed her fingers experimentally, she felt good. Content almost. A life travelling through the stars with a group of highly dangerous convicts on highly dangerous missions had been her upbrining after all. She let her head fall back and eyes fall shut, letting the vibrations, the life of the ship settle her for a brief moment. Not too long however, I have to deal with my new friend.

She hadn't been on high alert (a mistake, she knows, amongst so many criminals) but it was difficult to miss the spectator, his tail clanging down the halls, his red eyes glinting out from the darkness. She hadn't paid him any mind whilst she'd been fixing her arm but his growing agitation was clear. He was the first Gorgas Henri had ever seen, she knew next to nothing about his species. Primitive technology, sprang to mind, perhaps? What was it that disturbed him about her? Was she like a mouse to the firghtened elephant? The thought made her giggle.

"Hello!" Henri called, gettting up to approach him slowly, "I'm Henri, it's nice to meet you without handcuffs on." She smiled widely and extended her mechanical hand upwards for him to shake, wondering if it would mean anything to the Gorgas.

The reptile paused as the 'ally' greeted him. Unsure of what to do other then to stand upright and stare at that mechanical arm she had just performed her craft on. Her voice was friendly, that much was true, but when the device came to his direction he backed up instinctively, with wild eyes.

"B-begone witch!" The Gorgas stuttered in his brutish voice as he presented his holy symbol infront of her. All the while muttering to himself several verses of prayer to his god that he had little faith to begin with beforehand, in his foreign tongue. He feared that this arm was more so a magic staff and that by touching it, he'd perhaps be turned into a gecko, or lizard soup.

It was all Henri could do to not burst into laughter at the reptiles genuine fear. What a strange creature he was, scared of her arm, of technology Henri supposed. Fasctinating. For a moment, she considered playing the affronted woman, maybe a few tears to sell it. But, in fact, she was strangely flattered to be called a witch when magic was so far from what she was.

It could do with having an ally who feared her and it would certainly be a first.

With all the drama she can muster, Henri thrusts her mechanical hand towards the Gorgas, palm open, "Do not be afriad! It's true, what I am, but I do not mean to harm you." She lets the charge in her arm build, causing it to glow slightly as if to say But I could, if I wanted to, all the while biting back a laugh.

Jackal slowly lowered his guard as she spoke out, putting away his religious item further back in his clutch. He watched carefully as she tried to assure him that she wasn't going to harm him, though at the same time confessing of her heresey.

He then nearly jumped back in fright at the sight of her arm or what he would thing would double as a magic wand or staff, glow up. He would raise his front two arms and pleaded passively. "O-ok, you won't harm me then right? I-I I won't tell a soul, honest, were supposed to be coworkers after all." He said, he wasn't entirely convinced this human of the dark arts would spare him, but he hoped by mentioning their current status together it would reason for her not to destroy or curse him.

"I-I'm not even that religious! Y-you don't have to worry about any exorcisms from me." This would have been a lie 30 years ago, before he was exiled. Now though, in truth he had lost faith in the gods he was raised to worship and respect. If they were real, they didn't deserve his praise.

The stuttering and fear in his voice was so at odds witht he Gorgas' gruff, daunting voice that it threw Henri off. It was difficult to consolidate this fearful creature with the one she had watched tear out a man's throat.

She eased off slightly, lowering her arm and letting the theatrics in her voice ebb, "Oh dear. Of course I won't harm you. I've no reason to, have I? I know it's hard to beleive because I'm, well, here but I'm not a bad..." She stiffled a giggle, "witch. We have to get by too, you know?" Finally, she lets some of the humour show, "I think we might get along. Please, what's your name?"

The Gorgas nodded as she reasoned with him, she had no reason to harm him at least. He was a bit taken back and being asked his name. It reminded him of what he originally came here for, to get to know his coworkers better. This made him a bit embarrassed, but he did well not to show it. "Jackal, I hail from the Westari clan."

It was noticeable how much calmer he became, no longer frightened of a monster with powers beyond his understanding. They were supposed to be teammates, and he had to treat her as an ally just as much as one that wasn't affiliated with the taboo.

"Yours?" He asked, his posture straightened.

"A fine clan, I'm sure." Henri smiled mildly at Jackal who seemed much more at ease. She couldn't helped but like the great beast, so different from the criminals she usually encountered. She had to wonder how many people, humans in particular, had ever spoken to him with anything other than anger or fear.

"I hail from..." She hesistates, "Well, no clan, really. Born in the stars. A nomad of sorts."

"Alert, the Gladius has arrived at its destination, the planet Glacies in the Zeta Orionis system. Please report to the bridge for debriefing." A female voice rang out from the intercom.

"Looks like that's our cue. Will you accompany me, Jackal of the Westari clan?" Henri grins up at Jackal.

For the first time in a while, in fact for at least 100 years, the Gorgas smiled. Or rather, tried to, as his saurian lips only revealed a monstrous grin instead. Still though he was about to respond, but they were interupted by the mystical voice from above.

He glanced up, before returning his look down to the girl. "I'd be happy too, Henri of the heavens." The beast nodded and followed her to the bridge, wherever that was. He was happy to have someone to follow so he wouldn't get lost on the ship.

--

After arriving at the bridge, and having their leader to debrief them on what little information they had on the planet, Jackal raised his monstrously big arm. "If it is too cold for you warm blooded creatures I doubt I will last 10 seconds out there, I'll remain in the ship."

"Oh, oh, pick me, pick me." Henri too raised her hand, bouncing on the balls of her feet, "I can be stealthy. Okay not stealthy but I work quite well in the cold." She taps her legs with a clang.

An assorted array of sounds filled Takakiko's cramped quarters, distorted only by the pounding of her current choice of music. To any other ear except those trained to the whirring of machinery and the buzzing of electricity. Taka leaned back in a moderately comfortable chair, letting out a reflective sigh. Her desk sat before her, cluttered with heaps of scrap and electronics. In the middle of the chaos she had a small, clear space, and the pulled apart skeleton of one of her grenades. She had no particular goal in mind when she started, but it was a way to help her think, to keep her hands moving. The earlier visit from Max had brought up an intense fluctuation of emotions, many of which were not things she wanted to remember. So, she sat there, staring at her work, and tapping her fingers on the arms of her chair as she got lost in the inner workings of her own thoughts.

It was still quite early, but she was used to the lack of sleep. Sleep usually was not a pleasant experience for her, and she almost always woke up prematurely anyways. She sighed once more, leaning back towards her improvised workbench. She snatched up a soldering pen and a pair of tweezers. For just a second her gaze paused on her goggles. The gear held no real meaning to her, but there's where her eyes landed. In the dimness she could see perfectly, yet a chill went down her spine. She whipped her head around breathlessly, to the point where her chair spun and crashed into the table. Parts went flying, causing a cacophony of metal screeches as her materials toppled over.

A breath escaped her lips, forming into a chuckle halfway through. She was greeted by nothing but the ghosts of her imagination. A frown formed on her face as she looked over the mess her antics had created. Deciding she didn't want to deal with it, she figured it was about time to do something else. She opened the small wardrobe next to her bed, browsing through an assortment of clothes that seemed like an attempt to be tuned to her personal tastes. Well, it wasn't so bad. She just about ready to head to the showers with her backpack swung loosely over one shoulder, and her gathered supplies of bathroom necessities when-

"Alert, the Gladius has arrived at its destination, the planet Glacies in the Zeta Orionis system. Please report to the bridge for debriefing."

"Alert, that was rude!" Taka replied back to the electronic voice, blowing out an angry puff of air with a pout that scattered her bangs.

She turned back around dramatically, throwing her arms open and releasing the items clutched between her arms forcefully onto her bed, "I liaus lloa a' oanno oa sha'llom," She muttered, stalking barefoot from her room towards the elevators. Callum greeted her, and the others, with a brief overview of what they were expected to do.

"Oooh, Spooky! Sounds like fun!" Taka piped up, "I just gotta go find my super suit."

Nothing much was happening. Max simply floated in blank space, his gaze wandering around to observe just how empty his surroundings were. No noise, no commotion, no violence. The space around him was peaceful, undisturbing, but it felt cold. And the more Max thought about how cold it was, the colder it continued to get, until Max was freezing. First, came the shivering, then came the difficulty breathing, and then his limbs began to stiffen up. Although most people would be frantically searching for a way to leave this situation, Max sat, still comfortable. The void embraced him, and it’s bitter cold comforted him. He felt a sort of familiarity, or camaraderie with the cold. They had to share the space, so why not make it easy on the both of them?

Soon, a new roommate moved in. This roommate was warmth, and it wrapped itself around Max as soon as it entered. It embraced him, and Max immediately felt at peace in the duality of heat and cold. The cold kept him comfortable and secure, while the warmth made him feel loved and provided a sense of companionship. Max had finally achieved his balance, and finally drifted into eternal sleep.

As his consciousness began to fade, the warmth began to crawl it’s way to his ear, whispering sweet nothings.

"Alert, the Gladius has arrived at its destination, the planet Glacies in the Zeta Orionis system. Please report to the bridge for debriefing."

Max shot awake, taking a large inhale as his head rose from the wall it rested on. His eyes darted around his surrounding room, before he realized he had simply fallen asleep on his bed. He sat up against the wall at the head of the bed, his jacket sat across his lap, with the needle and thread still in his hand. The hole on the jacket’s sleeve had been sewed up well, thankfully the thread he had chosen matched the color of his jacket’s fabric. The hole in his skin would have to wait, he had a debriefing to report to.

Max stood from his bed, stretching slight as he worked out the stiffness of sleep from his muscles. In a swift motion he scooped up his jacket, shrugged it over his shoulders, and slipped his mask back onto its familiar place.

A scouting party to a desolate planet that just went silent? Sounds interesting.

Max raised his hand after Princess, speaking up, still a bit groggy.

”I’ll join this little scouting party we have going, but I think we need to keep numbers low, or we might as well end up sending the entire ship. Plus, I don’t think my counterparts know how to keep a very low profile-”

He looked at his scouting mates as he said his last line with a bit of sarcasm in his voice.

“-So, should anything go awry, the less of us biting the dust, the better. Better for the rest of us, at least.

Max took another, more subtle glance at the three others who had volunteered to go on the scouting party. The man in the suit was probably a bit of a wild card, but the large revolver he carried didn’t exactly read “Sneaky” or “Subtle” to him. The woman with the cybernetics didn’t carry any weapons that could Max could see, but her newly found arm, which Max had just noticed, probably served her well. As for Princess, she was the wildest of the three cards, and judging by the weapon and explosive devices he had pulled out of her box while he was in her room, she definitely wasn’t the stealthy type. Max heaved a quiet sigh.

All I need is the fire breathing fucking dragon and I’ll have a bona fide ghost team on my damn hands.

Max spoke up again, this time directly to the other volunteers.

"In fact, are you sure one of you don't want to sit this out? We're gonna need to be quiet, and I'm not sure that's quite your forte, kid." He said, turning his mask to Princess. He glanced over the woman with the cybernetic limbs, but nothing about her screamed 'loud and proud'. His gaze turned to the man in the white suit, and he looked again at the revolver on his hip.

"Big fucking revolvers aren't exactly quiet, either, suit." He grunted. Max wasn't used to working with humans, or loud ones at that.

"..but.. what if you need something exploded?" Taka questioned, eyes shimmering with dejection.

Jesse silently pulled his revolver from the holster, and discharged a round into the ceiling. What might've been a loud rapport from a ballistic weapon instead came out as a quiet ping of laser fire. Though the bright red flash certainly didn't help Jesse's case, he stared deadpan at the masked Novhan.

Max let a huff of air out of his nostrils. "Yeah, if they don't hear us, whatever's down there will see us. Better hope that, whatever it is that's down there, it's blind. Because, if not, we're just a little fucked."

"Has anyone ever told you how much of a party pooper you are?" Jesse asked, dropping the revolver back into its holster.

"Yea, you're a party pooper!" Taka reinforced with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Pinky over here makes a very good point." Jesse said with an ever increasing grin, looking to the green-haired Nohvan. "Anyways, Helmet Hair, we're just scouting. If we need to be shooting, we already fucked up." He said, fingers tapping steadily across the table.

"You may have a point, Suit. But, still. Even if we need to make a hasty escape, the quieter, the better. Your funerals. For all your sakes, I hope this goes better than I expect." Max crossed his arms, and relaxed his stance.

"Four should be enough. At least, I hope."

"We don't have much information. The Feds either don't have any more information for us on this mission, or they don't want to tell us about something. Knowing the Federation it's the latter. The Gladius sent a communications signal to the base and there was no reply. We're basically going in dark, I agree we should be very careful. Everyone going on the mission will go armed and ready for a fight, but we won't charge in guns blazing." Callum stated as he turned his gaze towards Scarleth, responding to her words.

Then Jesse volunteered, which made Callum roll his eyes. Perhaps he'd get lucky and that idiot would get himself trapped in ice somewhere on the world. Everyone else in the group chimed in, one after another. They seemed to be excited, he couldn't blame them for that. Jackal, the large reptilian stated that he was going to stay with the ship. A sensible choice for someone of his species, though he was a force in a fight from what Callum had seen during the outbreak he didn't want to get the creature angry. Someone did need to stay on the ship. Even a bone chilling frozen world would seem like a vacation to a group that had been trapped in a space prison.

Meanwhile the ship entered the orbit of the world, as it broke through the thick clouds the vessel hurtled towards the surface of the snow and ice covered world. Massive glaciers covered the world, many of them taller than the highest skyscrapers on Earth. A metallic base sat in the mountains near a frozen lake, its design and colors made it stand out amongst the sea of whiteness. On one side of the research facility was an open hangar with enough room for the Gladius to squeeze right in comfortably.

Jesse firing off his revolver drew Callum's attention, he nearly clocked the man right in the face for it. He stared up at where the shot landed, leaving a thick black mark on the ceiling. A mini argument had broken out, Callum stayed silent during it as he waited from them to finish. As they did the ship parked itself in the hangar. The bounty hunter Reeves pitched in to say he was coming along. The Lanun, was the last one to speak up as she stated she'd stay on the ship. So two would guard the Gladius, everyone else would go on the mission.

"Alright, two stay on to watch the ship, everyone else goes on the mission." Callum stated as he glanced around at the group. Then he departed the bridge along with some of others as everyone got ready to leave the safe confines of the ship. Moments later the Pirate King returned in his armor, his trusty rifle slung onto his back. The now fully armed team of criminals looked ready for anything. The airlock came open with a hiss and the dangerous seven exited the Gladius, the ship locking up behind them.

The hangar was barren and devoid of any signs of life, four smaller ships were spread around it. Each of them were empty. Callum took the first step into the inside of the research base, the doors came open automatically. He thought briefly that they'd be sealed shut and the team would have to blow their way in, but he was wrong with that line of thinking. He stepped into a long hallway, then internally groaned at the sight that the team has stumbled upon. Broken bodies. Three of them, in identical suits of light armor. They did not look like scientists, perhaps some of the security of the base. Each of them humans, long dead as they had been gruesomely killed. There was no blood despite that holes littered each of the bodies, the corpse closest to the group looked as if he had been running for the hangar when he killed. The two others were towards the other side, weapons near them.

"These are not the scientists, nor do I believe they did this to these men..." Callum muttered as he looked at the corpses. He carefully stepped over the bodies as he made his way down the hallway, the door at the other end then came open. The group entered it, there were still no signs of life. The entire base was silent, the only sound the hum of the heater warming up the building. The room they had entered into was some kind of clearance area, another dead guard laid by a desk to the side. No blood like the previous three. A layout of the base was on one of the walls. The hangar was on one side of the facility, the living quarters and security area were near them. All of the research labs were located in the center of the base.

Callum lead the group towards the main laboratory. It was the largest part of the building, test tubes, machinery, charts and computers sat around the room. There were no signs of the scientists. No bodies either.

"We should spread out, looks like we're the only ones alive in this entire place. Should figure out what killed the guards and what happened to the scientists." Callum stated as he walked towards one side of the lab, he took off his helmet than began to go through collected data. Perhaps there was a clue, anything would help. They had nothing to go off of.

---

---

---

---

Scarleth gazed coolly at the new planet, dressed head to toe in her usual armor. The cloth across her face provided needed warmth, and while some of her more extravagant features were hidden, the curvature of her body was hard to hide. Her weapons already stowed in the many holsters of the gear, Scarleth smirked slightly. She craved the rush of bloodlust, the release with each life she claimed. It was the closest thing to an emotion that she allowed herself to feel, allowed herself to crave more of.

Exiting the airlock with the others, Scarleth kept her gaze focused forward, her augmented eye setting to work. Each individual near her received a slight marker, with the distance and angle required for an effortless kill calculated before a single second passed. It was an automatic program, one that served her well through her time. Exit strategies were outlined, all of the accompanied with success ratings, lower the more dangerous and foolish the attempt. To anyone who glanced at her replaced eye, it appeared identical to her natural one, as if she wasn't just a serial killer who accepted credit cards.

Scarleth frowned slightly, glancing at the four ships in the hangar. Making a mental note of it, she didn't note any obvious signs of life. The ships merely remained there in position. Ruby Red quietly approached each additional ship, scanning them quickly. Her suspicions were confirmed: they were empty. Rejoining the group, with her silence and stealthiness that came with her line of work, she doubted anyone would have noted her temporary absence.

The first hallway presented a sight Scarleth was accustomed to: corpses. Despite Callum and the others stepping over them, Scarleth bent down next to them, examining them quickly. Holes had torn apart the bodies, likely gunshot wounds. The lack of blood tipped her off, however. Grimacing a bit, Scarleth knew there were only a few methods in which to avoid spilling blood. The blood pressure would have to be eliminated.

Perhaps the guards were already dead. And judging from the direction they ran towards, the attack occurred internally. It wasn't from an invading outside source. It was something already there on the planet. Scarleth frowned slightly--if her thinking was correct, they were headed straight for it.

More corpses and more emptiness only appeared to confirm Scarleth's premonitions. Only the hum of equipment broke the silence, for the most part. Power supply is still operational, Scarleth confirmed to herself. The possibility then of the guards' blood pressure dropping drastically from severe cold was then ruled out. Laser guns could instantly cauterize a wound, of course, but she doubted it. The corpses didn't seem to have the telltale burn marks.

Absorbing the schematic, Scarleth's eye flagged the various discoveries on it. The laboratory seemed as good as any of a spot to start, especially with the lack of scientists. Personnel records would be kept, Scarleth figured. Quietly approaching one of the computer terminals, Scarleth turned the volume off, typing in a command for the computer to generator closed captions. She didn't dare make too loud a sound. She knew they likely weren't alone.

Scarleth stepped back, glancing at the screen, as she waited for the personnel logs to be displayed. Waving over One-Arm, she motioned towards the computer program, communicating silently. She wasn't a hacker by trade. With his computer augmentation, however, she figured that he'd be able to crack it. The logs would be crucial.

Raising a finger to her lips, she indicated the need for absolute silence.