@Rai@Verticus@Claghorn Tull

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Nikki often wondered if she would have been happy to have experienced life as those around her did, to be restricted by the speed of sound, to see and hear the world through biological methods. Then there were the addictions of the body they all suffered, Paladin had his cigarettes that were only allowed to exist due to his rank in the organization, next was Aela and her apparent need to tease and titlate.

So it was with some degree of delight that Nikki watched as Aela disengaged and headed to her shower which the young Cyborg thought served many more purposes than the expunging of the body of pollutants for the resident Vamp. She used the announcement of her shower as a suggestion to plant the image of her nude body in those attracted to her and a barrier to those around her as well; polite people rarely disturbed those engaged in bathing or other fresher related activities.

It had been interesting to search the databases for information on this phenomenon. She had found a huge volumes of data gathered on how Parents used the Fresher as a bastion against the disturbance of their progeny or partner, how young women made their counters like shrines to beauty and its maintenance...the bathing area became a Washstation/Fantasyland sporting candles, incense burners, bath oils, bubble baths, Music, and even sex toys.

On the other end of the spectrum were young men and how their freshers often were considered biohazard sites or places of Spartan austerity and many still needed bookshelves. In the end it made her happy that she didn’t need worry over any of those uses but might be expected to act as if it is to keep her cover.



The Carrion’s hull became a dull dark mottled red as she slid through space as silent as the approach of death. All extraneous electronics were damped and all was as they say Radio Silent.

The Havikka unclasped herself from her flight seat, having meditated throughout the journey. Apart from the ascent and descent periods, space travel was very quiet when one was by themselves. The opportune time to meditate on one's life. She had relaxed and allowed her mind to wander, until she made her peace with the images it brought forth. She saw her parents, her comrades, men she'd killed and people she'd saved... and failed to save. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

Mars. Home of the Grays. Once red, now green.

She felt it was time to get herself more acquainted with everything. She proceeded out of her cabin, and ascended the latter. Once again following the signs, Mdazi made her way to the medical bay, where she had stowed her equipment before. That was the focus of her current endeavors - putting every medicine, every tool, every scalpel and syringe in its place.

Satisfied, the doctor focused her mind on her next task. Remembering Harlow's notes on ship comms, she sought the medbay's comms panel, and dialed up a connection to Abigail herself.

"Harlow? Please report to the medical bay at your convenience."

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"Well, Barca, you've made a mess, and caused us undue danger. I want you to keep a low profile from here on out, understand? You do what I say, when I say it. I'll have no more nonsensical violence unless absolutely necessary. Anyway, let's get on-task, shall we?"

Killchain powered up the ship as everyone took their seats on the bridge. Soon, the ship took off, got clear of Saturn City, and engaged lightspeed. As soon as that was done, Killchain ran his mouth off again, asking for a briefing before his ADHD-raddled mind once again turned to weaponry. She couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Can you focus on the mission, Killchain? We can discuss kit later. When we need it. IF we need it."

She cleared her throat, and turned to the assembled crew.

"Our first task is simple. We're not going to get anywhere near the grave, but we have a contact who can. Once we get to Mars, Killchain and Kobayashi will park us in low Martian orbit, with an inclination so that we will orbit above the Royal Palace. Once there, I will make contact with Carter Addison, who will proceed to the grave and send us pictures and descriptions of anything of importance."

She gave Killchain the side-eye. "We are not strafing anything or anyone, nor are we exhuming the body."

Carly turned back to the crew. "That is the plan. Once we have the data beamed up to us, we'll determine the location of the next clue and proceed there with haste. Any questions?"

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Savis rubbed his temples. "Fine. We'll go with that. I'm not fond of the Shadowguard, but we'll just have to see how they react."

He moved one hand down to his belt and the other to his chin, giving it a good rub.

"Here are your orders. Goodchild, I want you to start running infiltration simulations based on every piece of data we can pull on the gravesite. Astorix, you're going to help her with that. Goodchild can link to your HUD if necessary to give detailed boots-on-the-ground strategy. Archle, keep monitoring comms, especially so when we get close to that buoy. If this 'Trinity' does ring us, patch it through to Matia, but monitor the transmission as well. I don't want any shady shit tracing back to us. Once Matia finishes her shower, if she sees you before I catch her, tell her to that she'll be helping with you, Astorix and Goodchild. I want her to focus on specific combat scenarios."

With that, Savis put both hands on his belt. "In the meanwhile, I'm going to be tinkering with our weapons systems. You have your orders. If one of you encounters an issue, inform me immediately. Dismissed."

Humming echoed through the chambers….

Abigail was working on re-arranging most of the light fixtures. She was lowering them slightly, but it was a slow and time-consuming process which required multiple trips to and from the cargo bay to get some spare construction materials. She didn’t know who it was who tipped off the supply team for this mission, but clearly someone must have realised that Abigail was going to do some significant structural damage to the ship. There were replacement parts for pretty much everything - albeit in small quantities. Abigail made a mental note to limit her creativity according to her stock.

She was particularly avoiding any windows, for fear of a short peek into the vastness of space. Abigail wanted that experience all to herself; she wanted to retire to her room, call her mother and stare out into the stars in private. It was, after all, one of her dreams ever since she was a kid. That is why she did not know that they were landing until Victor quite helpfully reminded her. Abigail rolled her eyes.

V_STRADE
ONE (1) NEW MESSAGE
A_HARLOW: Asshole

This time, Abigail was more than prepared to land. She strapped herself in and gripped onto the armrests as the chair shuddered and shook. She hadn’t expected so much turbulence. Before Abigail even got a chance to helpfully volunteer herself to dig up the old man’s body herself, her comms went off - it was Mdazi, wanting to see her about her medical records. Despondent, she trudged her way to the medbay, knowing full well that she would have had to do this regardless of her own wishes.

Abigail knocked politely on the door and wandered in. “Evening Mdazi, I assume you want me to talk about my funny throat?”

Victor let out a sigh as their ship finally touched ground. It had been far too long since he was in a ship sized as small as the Wight, he had forgotten how different it felt. How “unsafe”, as he dubbed it in his mind. “How does it handle?” he asked Reika, breaking the silence that settled after the Wight had successfully docked itself.

Reika startled slightly, almost forgetting Victor was in the room as she stared at the strange blue sky outside.

“Great, actually,” she smiled, happy to put off going outside a little bit longer. “Handles like a dream. The, uh, Grays do good work. It’s good- it’s a good ship. Better than any other ship I’ve been on.” She jigged the pilots wheel amiably.

“I’m glad, we’re still not sure how long we’ll exactly be on this mission, but the sooner we accommodate ourselves the better.” he collected himself, standing up and re-adjusting his attire before continuing: “We’re going to be leaving the Doctor and Mechanic behind, I want the ship with some personal surveillance at all times. Go pack what you need, myself, you, and Olsen will go to the palace. I’ll clue you in on what exactly we’re looking for on the way.” he briefed her, already making his way out of the cockpit and to the comms device in the briefing room.

“Okay,” Reika replied absently, watching him leave. She slowly stood up and followed him out a few seconds later.

Soon, Victors voice echoed through the Wight once more: “Crew. Myself, Saigyo, and Olsen will be departing the ship to pursue the first clue. Harlow, I want you and our Doctor to remain on board and keep an eye on things. Do not let anyone in, if any of the port workers decides to pull rank, i’ve left instructions by the cockpit to follow.” he paused before remembering to address Finn. “Olsen, gather what you need, we’ll be leaving for the palace soon.”

Reika slid the magazine into her pistol with a satisfying clunk. Checking the safety, she lifted up the back of her tank top and and nestled it into her leggings. It wasn't concealed at all- that wasn't the point. The gun pushed up the cloth, so it was exposed and easy to grab. That was it, she guessed. No need to change clothes or brush her teeth or write a message. Now all that was left was to just walk...outside.

People did it all the time, apparently. It's totally breathable air- no filter or dome or insulation needed. The thought was alien to Reika. She also slid her cellular device down the front of her leggings incase she got bored. (Pockets were unnecessary, all she needed were her pants a bit of tension to keep everything she needed within an arms reach.)

Okay, time to go.

She was the first one to stand at the landing bay. The ramp outside was sealed upwards, keeping all the "breathable" poison outside. She tapped her boot against the steel floor before glancing at the control panel. Just a few taps and fwoosh. Death gas. That's how it had been for her whole life. Except this time nothing would happen because the oxygen was just in the air. No dome keeping it in, no ship to trap it, for some reason this planet was different and the oxygen clung to it instead of floating into space.

Of course, Reika wasn't scared. No no no, not at all. Something of great import caught her attention on the control panel, so she approached and began to study it intently with a hand on her chin. Hmm, yes, very intersting. This also meant that no one could open the ramp without asking her to move unless they activated it from somewhere else on the ship. Still, they would most likely have to ask her to move first which would give her a little bit of warning.

How hard could it be, really? Just walk outside and breathe easy.

Yeah, right.

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As the plan unfolded, the Erkani kept their thoughts quiet, contemplating what was to come. Alvirstein's hirelings planned to use these rebels as a distraction to further aims that the rebels had nothing to do for. The leaders of the cell would know what they were doing, sure, and they would break off before death or capture could cripple their movement - but their followers would not all have that option.

The palace guard would respond in force, once the situation was assessed. Good people would die, for a gang of mercenaries dancing on the strings of a jumped-up bourgeoisie whizz kid, and the Marxist on board had no idea whether even one member of the crew could be turned over to the cause of the people. To alleviate the fear, then, a test - a small one, the first of many.

"A suggestion, if I may? I understand that our resources, as a small group of operatives, are limited; our own hands are tied. Yet our employer is powerful, and it is possible that these rebels may not be sanguine about working on our behalf if measures are not taken to mitigate the risks their people face - they are not soldiers, after all. Our mission is of critical importance; what resources could our employer divert to bolster the odds of these rebels surviving this stunt, and to improve our own chances in the process?"

The Erkani communist movement was sympathetic to Zero One; in fact, Bradacharchle had personally been a point of contact with them in the past - and therefore could not speak to them directly or warn them of the danger involved in this operation, for fear that recognition by the transhumanist rebels would spoil their credibility with Alvirstein's crew. They would have to trust the mercenaries and rebels alike to carry this off right. Regardless, the Erkani was pleased to have authorization to monitor the call, should Zero One attempt contact.

Finn sat on his bunk quietly, the landing hadn't been so bad this time, he had made sure to keep tuned into the exterior cameras so that he would be better warned for their landing and was able to be safely secured in his room in time for the turbulence.

He thought about the captain's words and leaving the ship, going on land always made him nervous, he had been to mars before of course, on that fateful day when he brought George Gray back home and became inescapably involved in his affairs... including this, whatever this was. He knew George would be laughing if he could see him now, quaking in his boots over simply leaving a ship. Groaning Finn stood up and sorted out his equipment, he was sure that he wouldn't need any provisions being so close to the ship and in friendly territory that meant he didn't need much. Turning to the space suit which stood at the back of the room he debated taking it with him, wearing it would pretty much negate the need for anything else even if things went south, though he'd probably stick out like a sore thumb wearing it. Delaying the decision he demagnetised his railgun from the wall and held it in his hands, it had seen him through many a sticky situation and would probably continue to do so; placing it in a bag with some harpoons he hoped he wouldn't have to use it. Deciding to wear the suit he quickly climbed into it and swung the bag over his shoulder before setting off down the corridor towards the landing bay helmet in hand.

Arriving by the door he placed his helmet over his head, making a gentle click which echoed through the silent room, before moving to stand next to Reika who was looking intently at a control panel.

@Rai@Verticus@Claghorn Tull@Perpenheimer

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"Here are your orders. Goodchild, I want you to start running infiltration simulations based on every piece of data we can pull on the gravesite. Astorix, you're going to help her with that. Goodchild can link to your HUD if necessary to give detailed boots-on-the-ground strategy. said Savis elisiting an ”Affirmative!” from the overhead closest to him in her voice.

16 Ghost Nikki moved into Carrion’s Computer and began searching all the tactical histories both True and Simm found to be about Mars, Lucky for her the Royals being what they were their retired commanders as did many such men and women and wrote books on their Dicta and most wonderful of all declassified missions of their past.

Many a Famous members of the the Grays Military became teachers on retirement and they loved to write. Sure this was all history but it was also an indicator of course, ethics, codes of conduct, and other lovely data to add to the new Virtual Personality she was making over one of her ghost templates, a what if I had been indoctrinated within this system self.

I shall name you Rani which is…

The Rani interrupts saying “Princess yes I know what it means.

Nikki: Yes Princess; You were created to play the forces of the Gray found on Mars specifically in these area?

Rani: {clothing shift unauthorized or requested. Gray Naval Academy Cadet 1st. Year} Now or am I allowed to take time to study the Dicta more thoroughly before we begin, I would suggest the later and my estimate of Inception Rani Gray is 2.67749 hours; Zero now.

Nikki: Sure Sister, give me a tap if I do not respond at the estimated Inception...I may get busy before then.

As she left her new Sister Adversary to complete Inception of Full Autonomy Nikki chuckled to herself making 17 which she nurtured in her Ghost. What she did wasn’t all that odd many Netdivers practiced the same skill the only difference was they were not so permanently welded to the machine self part of her in constant immersion to the data streams that crossed the system like a phantom dimension invisible, and hidden.

Victor made his way towards the exit where Finn and Reika had already gathered, only to stop in his tracks and stare at the space suit that, he assumed, Finn was clad in. Shooting a confused glance at an agitated looking Reika, he took a deep breath and approached the two: “Olsen, we’re going to the royal palace not drilling for minerals. Sure we're not getting fashion points, but is that a -necessity-?” he paused, staring Finn down in his suit. He had to admit, it did make him seem a lot more menacing then he would otherwise be.

Reika heard Finn come up, but she pretended to be very interested in the console instead of looking at him. She also wasn't aware of it, but her foot was tapping.

So when Victor approached and spoke, she glanced over to see Finn in full space suit gear. Nervous as she was, she thought she might have made some mistake in her thinking that Mars was breathable because apparently Finn decided that it wasn't, because he was in some clunky-ass old suit of armor that looked like it could stop a bullet.

"Do we, uh...do we need gear, Victor?" She said, peering past Finn's form. "The air is breathable, right?"

Finn laughed heartily at Reika's comment, then seeing her nervousness said "Don't worry lass we'll be fine, I'm just wearing this for convenience". Tapping the helmet with his finger he continued "it means I don't need to carry any gear around". That said he pressed a button on the side of the helmet, starting the integration process with his eye, Finn watched as all of the data from the ship faded away to be replaced by the suits system. Though it didn't have many functions the suit was able to bolster his strength as well as extending his eyes capabilities; a notification appeared in his vision: the grappling hook propellant was half full.
His false eye became fully linked with the suit allowing him to see 360' around himself, he had learned to close his good eye at this point to avoid migraines; suddenly everything around him was in focus, as if he were looking at a photograph of his surroundings. Disoriented for a few seconds Finn stumbled slightly before readjusting himself and speaking to Victor "It might be slightly excessive captain, but it is useful" only realising after he had spoken that he hadn't turned to face him.

@Rai@Verticus@Claghorn Tull@Perpenheimer

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Nikki experienced that brief rush she always felt as she dove into an ocean of sound and sight beyond sight. Gone was the lag in communication and response; she was in a world that moved at the speed of light riding the photonic beams that made the Carrion’s BIS - 12 optical computer come to life for her.

She called it the City of Bluemoon a Virtual world that was made up in her spare time and allowed her a more interesting interface as its self appointed Goddess Controller.

So like one of those superhero sims Nikki flew to her desired position in the Ship's Computer a Tower Fortress of the Citadel called “Wonderland”

She was greeted by Gadget the sector operating system she’d made a more personable Icon with an advanced autonomy.



He looked like a Dwarf but was actually a very hairy and squashed Gnome wearing a tool belt and an odd hard hat which was how he looked in the VR game Nicki modified him from; she used him because of a unique world builder feature he had from that game. He was able to blend and import characters and even location from almost any game she had without her help and his level of anticipation of her needs honed after 1.37 solar of use.

To many people Wonderland was just a Game room but they missed the fact that Urban Warfare VR war was the rage and had been maybe 3 gen now and they insisted in full immersion and the R stood for Reality so many such war worlds were good maps of actual locations. This location in a Royal Graveyard was a know and even published a tour guide for those that even now filed past showing their respects one day a week local between 9:30 to 15:00. Hell once she and her builder Gnome brought up the 4 VR games set in the somber location and overlaid them to enhance accuracy the picture wasn’t rosey.

This was a Royal Graveyard and it was still in a state of Mourning which meant at the very least pretty guardsmen who march nice or Elite Bodyguard and in the Tour Guide she counted at least 18 seperate Royal Guard in the backgrounds and about 9 hardpoints maybe 12 if Gadget was right in his observations.

Then Nikki Quearied Tzu her favorite remote in military history and also Poindexter the Administrator and Dean of Current tactical doctrine asking them and Gadget to build her a composite she could use to generate possible scenario in and around the Grave out to 10 klicks.

It didn’t take long to find the Bad news; Royal Graveyards were usually near Military camps if not actually in them and the Empress's was within 4 klicks of the 9th Tactical Air Group called “Witches Hammer” and used to train the cream of the fighter groups as an aggressor squadron….lots of historical data on their operations.

[center]She was building a picture that was looking grimer and grimer

Kleptoparasitism popped into her head as an inspiration. She ….they could imitate Frigate birds. They could set up an observation point or several to keep a respectful overwatch and wait for whoever went for it and managed to get out of the Graveyard; hell even if they failed she could hope they’d fight it out and soften the target for her group's second wave assault

This is starting to become more fun than I could ever hope she said openly in the real world in a soft sleepy tone

Hahahaha, yeah, laugh it up, Finn. Just laaaaaaugh it up. Hohohohohoho, yar har fiddley dee. Someone might be able to read Reika's thoughts based on the her furrowed eyebrows and narrowed eyes laser focused on the back of Finn's head.

"So," she said icily, still standing by the console.

"Are we- going to get going?" She made as if she was going to press the button, but didn't, her eyes switching between Victor and Finn. If she was of her own total volition, she probably wouldn't go out there and be uncomfortable. A command from an authority figure would be nice.