Eiphram secured a tether from the satellite onto his spacesuit and pushed off into the black sea of space. The radio blared with a strange, rustic melody as he spun around. The music may have sounded pleasant to his Ceph partner, but it always made Eiphram feel nostalgic. He would never admit it though.

"Why do you always carry that stupid thing around, Shax? All it does is make weird noises."

A deep, sputtering voice cracked over his comm-link. "It's Ceph tradition to play songs for our forebears. I wouldn't expect an uncultured brinker like you to appreciate it."

"Yeah, but..." Eiphram grimaced with the effort of thought. "The Ancients are long gone. How do you know you're actually playing it right?"

A high-pitched warbling assaulted Eiphram's ear, which was the Ceph equivalent of a frustrated eye-roll.

"Fine, jeez... It's just a question." He sighed in defeat. "Just keep a few of those tentacles handy. It's about to start."

The gleaming megastructure that kept Istio connected to the rest of Imperial space reeled further and further away from Eiphram. The Tower, as it was called, looked like a giant black needle floating through the vacuum. A halo of orange light outlined the enormous satellite against the dark background of the galactic frontier. Istio's host star, Kieli, was a bright, burning eye in the distance

A small, orange square of light flickered to life in front him, and in the bottom corner the words "NOW RECORDING" began to flash. Despite being the shadow of an eclipse, he could still clearly make out the dizzying array of cables and rigging that wound tightly around the main spire. It all joined, split, and crossed together in labyrinthine patterns. Sleek plates of black metal concealed most of the complexity, but Eiphram knew it better than anyone. He built it after all.

He held out a glowing hand and closed his eyes. Threads of faint golden energy branched outward from his fingertips and raced towards the satellite. One by one, the small mechanical drones attached to the comms tower flared to life. The exhaust of their thrusters traced graceful patterns through the vacuum as the fleet arranged itself around the spire in a perfect circle.

"Alright, Shax. We're ready. Ignite the beacon. We only have a few minutes before we pass out of range again."

Inside the tower, Shax trained his large, squid-like eyes on more than a dozen different screens. The bright colors of the control panel gleamed against the chrome of his cybernetic limbs. His tentacles made long fluid gestures as he dialed in the commands.

Streaks of ultra-violet energy crackled between the tower and the drones as power began to surge through the entire structure. Space warped as if a magnifying glass passed over it, and from the bulge erupted a blinding stream of ethereal energy, shrouding the entire spire in a column of brilliant black and silver light. The surge of energy quickly decayed into strands of shimmering light before fading away completely.

"The Tower has a stable link with the nexus now." Shax said with a happy whistle-snort. "We're already getting updates from the Hun-Li Relay and the colonies on Eos. The broadcasts should reach Odyssey station in a few minutes."

He made a few precise movements with his hand, and like a puppet master pulling on strings, the drones began returning to the Tower. He touched a button on his suit and began reeling himself back to The Tower.

Shards of light began to manifest around the satellite, forming numerous shimmering clouds. The light from them condense into small winged creatures that glided through space with easy, some fading in and out of sight like ghosts.

"Ah, now there's a sight for sore eyes. Take a look at my feed, Shax. Nano swarms just started popping up everywhere." Eiphram grinned warmly as he stared at them. "It's a sign, y'know! Maybe you'll finally win enough at the tables to pay back Murdo Fleez." His smug, gravelly laughter boomed over the comm-link.

The complex chittering and screeching that followed made it obvious Shax was displeased. Eiphram was fairly sure he'd just been insulted in four different sub-dialects. He didn't catch all of it, but he understood enough. Although, being called 'egg-sucker' only made him laugh harder.

When he finally made it back to the Tower he spared a glance towards the inner system. From this distance, Odyssey Station was little more than a shiny, fast-moving dot moving across the stars. The light from Kieli made it hard to see, but Eiphram still found it. However, what stole his attention was a bright green star twinkling beyond it. There's something strange about it.

He squinted, his bionic eye zooming in to get better clarity. The star was moving...



The disappearance of Theurge's Nexus was one of the greatest mysteries of the last few decades. It became the cornerstone of ghost stories among spacers for years to come. No one has ever encountered the Eminent and lived to tell the tale, until now.

Even traveling at light speed the Halcyon's SOS message took more than 30 years to reach Istio. Being one of the few systems in the frontier with the tech needed to relay broadcasts through the leylines, the news of the Halcyon has spread like wildfire through all the nearby systems and beyond.

It's been one week since the Halcyon's broadcast was received, and the firestorm of gossip rages on. Many new faces have drifted into the system for one reason or another. Istio's backwater planets are deep in the Imperial frontier and comfortably far from Naval patrols. It's always been the place to go to escape your troubles, but that's now changing.

Once the news hit the leylines, every citadel in Talim could trace the rumors back to Istio. No one knows what will happen next, and it's set many residents on edge.

Whether your character just arrived seeking the latest news, has been here for while enjoying the lively debates, or is planning an inconspicuous escape, your character will start on Odyssey Station.

Orion scowls and taps at his comm panel to end and purge the message, more out of habit than any real concern that the message could compromise him somehow. Probably another junk run and he was either hoping someone would be foolish enough to take it off him or he'd ambush Orion with a different job all together as soon as he got in the door.

"Gnabik, what are you up to now you no good Sluffer..."

He muttered half to himself even as the blinking lights of the AI terminal for the Ninshubar whirred to life. A faint hum started, then a slightly rusty clang, before the hum resumed and then a light blue ball began to rapidly construct itself over the display. As it completed itself and electronic runes rippled over it, the ball pivoted as if turning to face the Ki pilot.

"Another wild goose chase no doubt, you'd be better to focus on your existing contract with master Ohl’en; such a respectable young man compared to your usual clientele"

The AI suggested in a rather smug tone that suggested it was pleased to not have another rough hoodlum riding in the back for once. Orion shrugged at the point and then checked his displays as they set a course to dock with Odyssey station; he noticed his passenger had also received a similar message once they got into short burst range.

"Well that is interesting, looks like Gnabik's encryption keys but from the message origin he didn't know he was on our ship. Just set to send when his comm system pinged for messages.

Nin commented, his holographic spherical presence contracting and dilating as if focusing on the information.

"Leave it for now, he doesn't seem like the pirate type so I doubt its anything that puts us at risk. Handle the docking Nin while I go check on him"

Orion stood with a stretch, the small cockpit feeling a little more full than usual with a hammock and some other equipment stowed into one corner. He jabbed the door control and ducked through into the back compartment and looked abut the room that was now a hybrid of a workshop, galley, cargo hold and bedroom. Finally he looked at the Vaskian and gave him a friendly nod before kicking out a chair to sit before him.

"We'll be docking shortly, I'll need to sort out the resupply and refuelling but that should all be available at the docks. After that I can either escort you to wherever you want to go first on I can be on standby if you wish to investigate independently. You're an educated fellow so I probably don't need to remind you, but Odyssey is a pretty rough place if you wander into the wrong area; I'd recommend checking with me before you go anywhere alone outside of the central hub and even then I'd stay out of the dive bars or pleasure clubs."

He explained, updating and advising the Vaskian as he privately wondered if the lead was still hot enough to get them anywhere.

@Dead Cruiser
Chasing Shadows
Obscured by the shadows of nearby alley and his own chameleon skin, he had watched the fight unfold. It began like any other, a few Blackclads in synthmetal jackets blocking the path of some lost soul who wandered too far from the main deck. However, seeing a man put four Blackclad thugs on the ground in record time, Skreed knew better than to make enemies. Having dangerous friends was much more promising.

“Well, well, well~ Can’t say I’ve seen four Blackclads bite the iron so easily. And done in by a Clueless no less. Shocker really~” A tall, stocky lizardman with thick tusks detached from the blackness of the alley in one liquid stride. His stony expression made him seem unflappable. “You really should have expected it, wandering into this ward. Most get peeled like some dumb gully, or worse. Lucky you.” He said with obvious sarcasm. “If you’re not going to pilfer their pockets, I’d get scarce if I were you. There’s dozens more where they came from. The Blackclads run everything in this ward. What's a clueless body like you doing in this dump anyway?”

Oh’len nodded appreciatively back to Orion, both for his service and advice. He gave him that familiar yet friendly odd stare before speaking his decision on the matter, always proper he spoke elegantly with his formal diplomatic tongue.
”E-Rade’s lounge sounds like it could be either of those places that’s why I’d like you to come with me. It’s a risk but I have a small job there.
While I could say I need the contacts and connections this opportunity offers, which is true if it holds such things, the truth is I am too curious to turn it down, even if I have a bad feeling about this.”

Oh’len whips open his jacket and in the brief flash that his hip holster was exposed, a gun flew straight into it from the table nearby before the fabric could fall back down in place and conceal its presence. Oh’len spoke once again as if his psychic display was mundane. Although he knew it was not.

”I don’t like such things and am not trained in their use.” He said speaking of the gun. ”but every negotiation has its tool. I would still appreciate your assistance. The payment is yours but if we get the chance, the relic is mine. Nothing can compromise our first mission though, my brother remains our priority.

Oh’len had given him a choice yet was speaking with a hefty confidence as if Orion had already given him an answer. Vaskians...

Oh’len would reply to the message and organise an approximate time for their meeting. He would quickly study up on the happenings around Jurroc III. (If told about it he will study the drive booster too.) Next he familiarises himself with local customs and searches for information on their meeting place and surrounding area. The whole process had a nostalgic familiarity of an old life and old job.

"As agreed, the lounge is not a bad starting place anyway. It's like the station's junk trap for gossip, if there is anything worth knowing in the layers of scum at the bottom it gets filtered through there. It so happens I have an acquaintance there I want to check in with anyway."

Orion says with a nod, feeling the ship hum slightly underfoot as it preps to accept the docking clamps and pressurise the airlock system.

Docking complete, will we be introducing Master Oh'len to Gnabik seeing as he reached out to us both?

The ship informed them, not caring that it was admitting it had been monitoring the comms or that Orion may have been keeping his own message to his chest. The bounty hunters' shoulders rose and fell in an exasperated sigh as he geared up. Slipping his own sidearm into a docker holster under his arm and stuffing a few other bits and pieces he'd probably need on the station into his pocket.

"Gnabik is a bit of a mixed bag, and that putting it politely, if he didn't have such a erratic talent for intrigue I think someone would have vented him years ago. He is useful, occasionally anyway, so even if what he wants today is a waste of time it's worth shaking him down for intel."

Orion checked a few meter readings and then pushed a few fragmented maps files over to Oh'len's device. They were based on the old plans that had been data mined from station systems years ago but had partially updated to show gang zones, unsafe or blocked sections and other bits of miscellaneous information.

"That's probably about 30% accurate and it is missing huge chunks of area, but if we get separated it means you should be able to get back to this dock as long as you can make your way to the main hub first.

Nin, settle up with the dock system for our fees and make sure we're cleared to leave and keep docked here for a few days without any hassle. Try not to gossip any more also will you?"

He tell's the ship and the holographic display flickers in offence.

Hearing a voice from where he had not previously detected a presence, Ryo immediately snapped into a fighting stance, fist raised toward the newcomer. Once he realized that the repitlian man did not mean him any (immediate) harm, he lowered his fists, but kept his muscles tense. The stranger was recommending that Ryo move on, which was probably wise. The men that had accosted him were armed, but had underestimated him and promptly suffered for it. As his master had told him once, if he lived because he had gotten lucky, he deserved to be dead. Ryo didn't feel like pushing his luck any further.

He looked up at the stranger, and figured that he would be able to help him. Probably not for free, but given that he could have slipped away without Ryo noticing, he probably revealed himself because he wanted something. That gave room for negotiation. He doubted he was in cahoots with the bodies Ryo had just littered the station floor with, or else he would have just escaped to warn the others.

"I'm looking for someone," He answered steadily. "A man of my same race, about my age. I have reason to believe he was on this station. He may still be on this station."

@This Girlie@Drache

Melusine pulled her shawl tighter as she felt a chill. Her delicate, wrinkled hands clutched the skull clasp tightly as she stared wistfully at the Hollow Grove. Eighty years is nothing to a Nano, but it was the distant past for Melusine. She could still see it in her mind, the scrap heap it used to be. She had walked by this same spot nearly every day since she had arrived on the Odyssey and the view was always different. Each day another small part of the grove changed into something extraordinary.

Torn panels had been overgrown by metallic vines. The nest of wires and debris had sprouted into chrome shoots and bloomed into enormous mirror-like petals. Trees of liquid silver grew from every surface, their sleek branches exploring every new direction and ignoring any sense of gravity. Broken machines and scrapped parts had sprung to life in so many shapes, some thick, lumbering, and docile, others lithe, graceful and skittish. She could stare at O’ona’s handiwork for days.

For the first time in years, she had someone to share the sights with. She turned to the furry synth sitting next to her, and began speaking in old Ferontic. “It’s about time we get to work. Food and batteries aren’t free.”

Melusine's instincts cried in alarm and she leaned slightly to one side as a volley of laser fire scorched the wall behind her. “Oh my!” She let out a startled gasp, and as her attention drifted towards the five armed Ryzekt thugs blocking the nearby corridor.

One of them stepped forward; a thread of white smoke curled off the bulky, glass bracelet latched to its outstretched hand. A feline trunk, six scythe-like legs made up the alien’s lower half, while its upper half sloped into a broad torso with four thin arms. Its entire body was covered in blue and green chitin with spiny hairs forming a lion's mane around it's neck Menacing orange haze steamed out of tiny holes along its body. It trained it's predatory yellow eyes on Melusine and squinted at her suspiciously.

“The bounty s’worth more if we bring you in alive, Empress. First shot was a warning. Make any sudden moves and the next one will go through that wicked skull of yours.” Its voice was so deep it might have been raked through gravel. Its eyes flicked to Maddy. “Tell the synth to stand down.”

A few more of the strange mantis-creatures brandished their own cypher weapons, and leveled their aim at Melusine and Maddy.

Playing the role of a frail old homeless woman was easy for the former empress. No one thought twice about ignoring her, and that was just what she needed. But somehow these morons managed to match her with a forty-seven-year-old bounty posting. She thought that unlikely. Someone else was after her this time no doubt. She sighed irritably. This was the first time she had had much opportunity to visit with her curious new friend, Maddy.

She was about to introduce their skulls to their thorax, when she noticed someone else approaching.

The gleaming wash of neon colours glittered over Durzi’s scales as she paged lazily through the torrent of notices, her tail swishing lazily back and forth behind her. Now and then someone brushed past, bumping against her wings, and she almost decided to wait to do this until she could access the station’s public database system from the comfort of her own cockpit rather than using one of the public access points. But she didn’t feel like wandering all the way back to the shipyard now.

Not when the three-legged, four-armed avian mechanic had already warned her that the repairs to the ASTRIX’s life support system would take at least several more hours to complete. The partially-organic systems weren’t exactly plug-and-play like some of the squat boxy metal and ceramic monstrosities some races preferred.

Coaxing her vessel back into a cohesive system was a concern for later when the inorganic parts had been replaced. For now, Durzi was focused on completing something that had become a bit of a ritual whenever she arrived at a bustling station or port.

Entering her sibling’s name into the station’s system yielded no results, of course. Over the years the disappointment in that absence had faded from a sharp stab of loss to a rather distant dull ache. Sometimes she wondered why she even took the time to do this, and wondered when ‘stubbornness’ was going to cease to satisfy as a justification.

Backing out of the empty search results, Durzi tried a different tactic. The notices were choked with all sorts of speculation and discussion about the Halcyon’s distress call and the vanishing of the Theurge’s Nexus. It was the topic on everyone’s lips, or whatever equalled lips for their species, and although the blue-black Drakothar was curious, it was all she’d heard about in the last two days.

Wading through the system, she finally found a listing for independent investigators. She didn’t recognize any of the names and was growing far too impatient to start contacting them individually. Instead, she opened up a general request and simply directed any interested brokers to contact her at her ship.



After that, Durzi went exploring, wasting time with the intent to visit E-Rade’s lounge for a meal before her ship was ready. She’d never been to Odyssey before, and the backwater nature of the station was utterly fascinating. The bioluminescent markings under her eyes gleamed with a contented violet as she took in the swirl of activity. The earpiece fitted over her horns filled her ear with music, something electronic and thumping but with a particularly melancholy undertone to the vocals that perfectly matched Durzi’s mood.



The open-air arboretums were an obvious destination, and Durzi curiously ogled the artificial sun and environmental systems, but eventually found herself wandering through a slightly less busy corridor with a small biopod in her hand and taking a sample of a fuzzy orange fern growing on the side of a slightly cracked air recycler. It was clearly being affected by the forcefield generator nearby, much like the plants and animals she studied near ancient ruins in nearly thirty different systems. There were several more pods in her bag, all small versions of the ones in her ship. Many of them were already full of metallic lichens or black insects that seemed to grow extra segmented limbs at will. None of these would likely be any significant discovery, but perhaps she could grow a new treat for her pet Puckmaren.

Contorted into a slightly awkward position with her tail and wing helping prop her up against the curved wall of the corridor, Durzi found herself slightly startled when she noticed a flutter of light and motion nearby.

Glancing down her snout, she spotted a nano sort of hovering. It had assumed a vaguely bipedal shape, the light it produced throwing shadows and gleaming on Durzi’s horns. Most nanos didn’t really respond to people but this one seemed to be watching her.

“Well. Hello.”

No reaction.

“You’re O’ona, aren’t you. I heard about you. You control the whole station right? That’s really interesting!” Durzi had been told that this particular nano was a bit special. She’d also been warned that O’ona was known for ejecting trouble-makers into space. The Drakothar hoped that digging glowing toadstools out of bundles of high-powered conduits didn’t qualify.

Luckily, but perhaps slightly disappointingly in that the interaction was so brief, the nano sort of meandered down the corridor away from her and vanished through a wall.

“Well, all right then. Good talk.”

Her talons scrabbled a little when she jumped down, tucking her biopod into her bag and following O’ona’s wake. When she rounded the corner, her jaw fell open at the sight in front of her.

“Well shit! I should have come here first!” she hissed to herself, watching creatures made out of machine parts drift peacefully through a veritable jungle of biomechanical flora. She itched to examine it all, but had only managed to take a step forward when she heard the tell-tale warble of laser fire nearby. Ducking behind a sort of shifting tree-trunk, Durzi watched a group of armed Ryzekt move out of another corridor, the front man leveling some sort of arm-mounted weapon at what looked like a small old elfling. The wall behind her smoked from the laser blasts.

The threat was loud enough to carry and Durzi felt her wings bristling a bit with indignation on the woman’s behalf. The markings on the Durzi’s face, neck, and arms shifted from blue and violet to red and orange and her tail rippled testily.

“Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea,” she muttered, mostly internally, ducking low and sneaking around to the side. She dropped her bag behind another tree and broke into a sprint.

At the last second, Durzi leaped into the air, boosting height and distance with a flap of her wings. She crashed through the cover of a metallic tree with a sound like windchimes and slammed into the side of the closest Ryzek, talons-first. Caught by surprise, he went down hard, though not before knocking the one next to him off-balance. Durzi dug her claws into his head-crest and ripped his skull back, sinking her teeth into his neck and tearing out his jugular.

“Tell the synth to do something useful!” she said, half-snarl, half-mischievous countermand, spitting the acrid blood out of her mouth. One of the laser weapons fired and Durzi shrieked angrily at the resulting fire she felt in one of her wings. A fist-sized hole had been burned right through the thin membrane.

“Ah! Fuck!” The Drakothar scrambled to her feet, sucked in a deep breath and...

“rrrRROOOWAAAAAAAAAH--” A torrent of pretty, glittery, sparkly energy billowed out of Durzi’s mouth like plasma venting in deep space. It absolutely stank of magic but the two Rezyk it washed over didn’t seem to appreciate it much as they staggered back, immediately beginning to wither. The cloud of sparkly shit settled ominously as the creatures within it struggled and choked, their life energy draining out of them. It burned away most of the orange vapour leaking from their bodies, not that it seemed to affect Durzi anyways.

Therion suppressed a sneer as the spider wormed its way into the meeting room. It never got any easier, guarding scum. Where had he gone so wrong? How did he go from military contracts to this? He thought about the payday he was promised, and found his answer. He could almost buy a second Skyburner with how much chit Cresche had promised him. That in itself was worrying, but he wasn't going to pass up that much money, whatver his misgivings.

He gave a resigned sigh as the spider kept chattering. Part of it about drugs or something. Foul, what some of these creatures would do for recreation. Give him a good bottle of Gravlan whiskey and a coldbox full of feuerhund meat any day. His stomach grumbled at the thought; hopefully he'd be able to get food soon. It felt like he'd been waiting all day.

The conversation, such as it was, turned to the "ley," as these people called it. It wasn't quite accurate- he didn't need to be in range of a leyline to use his gifts, for instance- but he may as well humor the insect. He pulled out one of his pistols, safeties on, channeling just enough spirit into the weapon to make it glow.

"...Shuran magecraft. Bullet-sorcery. Aside from never running out of ammo, I can channel my art through these. My specialty is pyromancy, though I have to be more limited in a place like this. Worry not, though. I can be precise." He pocketed the gun, crossed his arms, and turned to face his new charge.

"Now, let me ask you a question. I get that I'm supposed to be your bodyguard, but that doesn't explain the chit I got offered for this job. Which means there's something a great deal more valuable, or dangerous, at play here."

He leaned forward slightly, eyes burning like low coals.

"I would be very pleased to know what that is."

@EnterTheHero

Gnabik locked eyes with Therion for a long, belligerent moment and promptly bellowed with an obnoxious laugh. “You’re new to Odyssey aint’cha?” His mandible tightened into a grin. “Allow me to educate ya. For a job like this, if anyone offers you too much chit, it means you’re being paid extra for being discrete. All you really need to know is that if anything bad happens to me or the cargo, you don’t get paid. Specifics cost extra. I can tell Cresche to dock it from your pay, if you like.”

He pushed off the wall and scuttled over to the console in the center of the room, and stared vacantly into the swarm of charts, graphs, and alien symbols. He swiped his hand across the console. With a chirp, the floating images dispersed into a cloud of blue particles and slowly began to rearrange themselves.

“The basics are easy. Am I in danger? Always. You don’t get to where I am without making a lot of enemies. Everyone knows the only reason Cresche hasn’t spaced me yet is because he gets a cut from these deals. As for the cargo...” He shrugged casually.

The light particles coalesced into a model of some piece of alien tech: a sleek ring of metal with sloping grooves decorating its edge in a repeating pattern. A sphere of dark energy foamed inside the ring while tendrils of golden smoke rolled off of it.

“I don’t know what it is and I don’t really care. Let’s just say the Talim markets are completely different from Istio, so if I’m going to sell this hunk of junk locally, then I need to know how much it’s worth. If my old buddy Orion doesn’t knick it for himself, then I’ll auction it off at the trading pens and earn the chit that way. We’re not here to ask hard questions, we’re here to make money.” He leveled a hard stare at Therion. “Got it?”

The console chirped as a message arrived. “Good timing. Looks like all the right players decided to join.” He read through some information on another screen and nodded appreciatively. “They have a bit of a walk from the docks, but they should be here soon. Since I’m not going anywhere, why don’t you go make yourself useful and scope out the lounge. I’m sure there’s plenty of suspicious characters out there to keep you busy.”

---

@Aqua Regis@Dark Light

Even if Orion’s map was incomplete, he knew the right people to talk to. After greasing a few palms and tossing a few chit to the bartender of the Cakewalk, he was able to guarantee safe passage between the eternally chaotic docking bays and the squalid beauty of Mon Serrat, the entertainment district of Odyssey station.

At the center of the ward was an enormous chasm that went deeper into the bowels of the station, and above it was a spire of complex machinery hanging from the ceiling like a massive stalactite. Ribbons of strange metal unfolded out of a distortion in the air above and wound into the gyrating machinery. Beneath the spire was a miniature sun, roiling with arcs of fire that unfurled from the main body like threads of smoke. It bathed the surrounding structures in a rusty orange glow. Oh’len’s research into the artifact that helped power the station kept him fascinated for so long, they were beginning to run short on time.

Despite the presence of the small sun, the majority of Mon Serrat was stark contrast between bright neon lights and the typical dark atmosphere that pervaded most of the station. Glowing signs advertised everything from forbidden delicacies to obvious scam bait to soul-cleansing gastric baths. Despite the grungy appearance of the ward, the air was clear and the walkways were mostly clean, especially near power conduits. For the most part, O’ona’s roving nanite swarms ate all the detritus and residue that might degrade the station’s systems.

The meeting place wasn’t difficult to find. Even if it was hard to notice among the throng of aliens crowding the streets, everyone more or less knew where it was. E-Rade’s was an entire strip of seedy bars and establishments facing Mon Serrat’s signature spire. Scrap shanties had been bolted onto existing parts of the station’s interior, mixing the elegant alien structures of Odyssey with the patchwork designs of the residents. Nestled between branching columns of synthmetal and glowing conduits, the club was one of the few establishments that repurposed part of the station itself. Strobing lights and thumping music poured out of the narrow archway that marked the club’s entrance.

---

---

*static*

"...ѕнє ωαѕ ѕтιℓℓ вυт α gιяℓ ωнєη ѕнє ƒσυη∂ тнє συтρσѕт... ιт ωαѕ мα∂є σƒ ¢αη∂у αη∂ ¢σттσηу ¢ℓσυ∂ѕ... ιт ƒℓσαтє∂ συт тнєяє ιη тнє єує σƒ тнє ¢σѕмι¢ ѕтσям... ѕнє яσ∂є α мσσηвєαм мα∂є ƒяσм b͓̽r͓̽o͓̽k͓̽e͓̽n͓̽ ͓̽p͓̽i͓̽e͓̽c͓̽e͓̽s͓̽ σƒ нєя мσмму'ѕ gσℓ∂єη ∂яєαмѕ..."

*static*



The pair of large, glowing yellow eyes blinked once, twice then the ghostly audio file dissipated into the ether of her rogue thought processes. Big, bulbous, blue fuzzy head swiveled to face the woman who had taken her in. An appreciative smile formed at the synthetic feline lips and another 'drag' she took from the metal filament with the glowing orange end. Content to just nuzzle up to the warm silence between them, Maddy continued to rock back and forth in her cradle, which to no surprise, she had reformed into an ancient, ol' fashioned rocking chair. The wobbly alloyed, apparatus looked to sprout out of the huge pile of refuse by a single rod. Amongst the beauty and flow of the bio-mecha flora here, this heap of metal plates, parts and pipes all piled together stood out like a sore thumb. But this was their undisturbed shadowy corner of disarray; no one should bother them here.

The old woman spoke to her in that new fangled language that she was currently teaching Maddy. The little blue thing's metallic ear twitched and then responded in kind. A simple nod she gave, a pause as big yellow eyes blinked twice, then:

"A-yup, Auntie, reckon yer right," said Maddy in the just right twang of the Ferontic language, "best mosey on n' keep our meek n' make our keep."

Maddy had no real context of the saying, she however, was able to parse the concept and that was enough for her. But truth be told, this was not how the Neoco Tabi inside the blue Fuzzer sleeve actually talked; she was merely mimicking the manner by which she was taught the language.

Suddenly, the Fuzzer perked up and blinked once. The voice that emanated from the voice box was truly Maddy now: high-pitched, sweet and with a hint of a darling little girl's song, "Alert, Auntie... incoming unknown subjects. Armed and-- uh-oh..."

The blast went over her head but she did not flinch. Instead her bulbous head swiveled from left to right, then right to left. Big, yellow eyes then rested upon the lead chitinous creature, a small smile formed at her feline lips in response to its demand for her to stand down, "I am not a synth, mister," said Maddy with a hint of a small bubbling giggle, "Hi! I am Maddy! I am a girl...! Do you want to play...?"

The Fuzzer continued to rock back and forth in her cradle as her head swiveled to stare at Auntie, the smile momentarily faltering. From Maddy's point of view, several sensors zoomed in and picked up on the inaudible clues, subtle facial ticks and especially the eyes of Melusine. Conclusions were finalized and acceptable parameters to proceed were lain out. Big yellow eyes blinked once, twice and the little smile reappeared.



Maddy stopped rocking back and forth in her cradle. A single yellow eye winked at Melusine before her big, bulbous head swiveled back in the direction of the intruders. Suddenly, the little Fuzzer perked up and blinked once. "Alert, Auntie... incoming secondary unknown subject. Armed with-- uh-oh. Alert, Mister... your friends are-- uh-oh--"

The explosion of sight and sound was tremendously graceful and terribly violent all at the same time. The secondary unknown subject was impressive with its fighting prowess, but even more importantly, this winged, scaly creature bought Maddy the time she needed to execute her next set of directives. Her smile widened as she lay her eyes upon the lead Ryzek.

"This is not 'Empress,' silly... This is my Auntie! And I will not stand down. For I am already sitting. But it is okay. I will just go down then. Bye--"

The telescopic rod that held her cradle retracted, bringing Maddy instantly beneath the huge pile of metallic refuse. A heartbeat later the pile exploded open, its metallic parts, plates, and pipes shielding Melusine temporarily from the lasergun blasts. And in the wake of the explosion, there stood 4 meters of menacing power and rumbling, jagged violence, crouched low on four legs. Its tail arched over its back like that of a imposing, armour-plated Draskaska scorpion; lit up, crackling and sparking away with electricity strong enough to stop the heart of the strongest Valkorian. The scavenged mini-railgun on its back was crude but it would do its job. The yellow of its eyes pulsated softly, but then suddenly a heavily pixelated heart appeared therein and seemed to wink over at Melusine.

"ʜɪ," said the heavily digitally distorted voice, promises of blood red consequences trailing its thundering echoes, "ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇʙᴏᴛ... ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛꜱ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ--"

The tinkling sounds of the bio-mecha flora were no match for the pulsating fire of the roaring mini gun. The shining surfaces of the gigantic alloy flower petals reflected the flashes from each barrel tip as it launched projectile after projectile. Interspersed between flashes were reflections of the twisted and contorted faces of the recipients of the gunfire, each expression changing with each shot lodged or piercing through the soft spots between their chitin. Soon the reflections shone no more as the ichor splattered and soaked the gigantic alloy petals, obscuring the graphic reflections in the aftermath of the gunfire. Sounds of the thundering, pulsating shots echoed in the chamber, the tinkling sounds of the bio-flora marrying the tinkling sounds of the rail projectile shells hitting the metal floor.

The mini-railgun ejected from the back of Maddy's monstrous sleeve and she rocketed away, sharp claws at each end of her paw, digging purchase into the metal floor. She was half way to her target even before the gun clattered and bounced off the floor. Sensor arrays honed in on the new unknown subject, picking up details and logging threats and weaknesses as she went until she was tip of her jagged maw to tip of the unknown subject's dangerous snout. Angrily sculpted yellow eyes blinked once, twice then a heavily pixelated thumbs-up appeared therein and seemed to wink at Durzi. "ɪ ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ꜱʏɴᴛʜ, ʟᴀᴅʏ. ʜɪ. ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴍᴀᴅᴅʏ." said the heavily digitally distorted voice, without inflection and with absolutely no high-pitched, sweet, with a hint of a darling little girl's song in said voice, "ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴀ ɢɪʀʟ."

The LoveBot sleeve adjusted its mechanical jaws to 'grin' then nodded at Durzi, "ɴᴏ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴇᴀʀ ᴍᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɪɴ ꜱᴀꜰᴇᴛʏ..."

Maddy then leapt away, once again rocketing off to a new target. Instantly she was at the lead Ryzek, sensors inspecting its prone form. It was still alive. Maddy lowered herself then like a primitive leg trap, jaws clamped down on it, biting at its scruff. She dragged the creature to the feet of Melusine then dropped it. Her tail arched over her head, swaying slightly, head raised up and leaning forward now. Angrily sculpted yellow eyes peered up at the old lady. "ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴀᴜɴᴛɪᴇ?" asked Maddy with her heavily digitally distorted voice.

The yellow of her eyes pulsated softly, then suddenly a heavily pixelated heart appeared therein and winked at Auntie Melusine.

"I'm looking for someone," He answered steadily. "A man of my same race, about my age. I have reason to believe he was on this station. He may still be on this station."

“On the Odyssey?” A deep chuckle rumbled out of Skreed. “No one comes here looking to be found.” His thin lips pulled back into a serrated grin, as he looked Ryo up and down, scrutinizing his appearance. “Alright Clueless, if you want a body found I know who to ask, but you’re going to need more chit than you can lift on these idiots. Finding people ain’t cheap. What do you have to bargain with?”

The clamor of distant shouting stole Skreed’s attention. He squinted towards the noise and snarled irritably. “Walk and talk, Clueless. Let’s go!” He growled under his breath. Skreed sank back into the shadows of the alley and began making a quiet retreat.

Oh’len felt pity for those around him who couldn’t see in the way he could. For all those that didn’t know the aura of this Artefact above them, this miniature sun, in the same way he could.
There were patterns within patterns and colours of colours swelling from its core and emanating out brightly in the likes that even his eyes had never before seen and they burst forth to coalesce further in new ways of unfathomable brilliance. It held a wild harmony in its own completely unique and unpredictable way. A string of sorrow tugged on the man’s heart as Ohl’en realised he could never really truly talk about or share it with anyone. It would be like trying to discuss one of the most complex pieces produced by the greatest orchestra with a deaf man.
For as far as he knew, no one else had eyes like him, which in times had caused him to question if what he sees is reality or pure insanity. It had definitely sounded like insanity to those of whom he tried to describe it too. But that wasn’t a conundrum to solve right now.

Realising he had lost time to the hypnotic light, Ohl’en quickly packed away his briefcase of high tech gadgets and sensors that he had been using to get some readings and research on the power core, then rushed off to meet Orion waiting nearby the entrance to the club.

”Guess it’s time to go meet Gnabik.”
Oh’len told his acquaintance without apologising for his tardiness. His brows furrowed as he stepped towards the archway and was enveloped by the thudding bass and strobing lights.

The music was muffled, but still plain as day from the dressing room. The dancers switched into their raunchy outfits with practiced ease. Some chose to look jarringly different from their usual selves (with the aid of makeup), but others didn't care as much. One Sirpetes girl was not immune to the allure of being remembered, both inside this job and her other one. Dreadlocks of hair were, for once, tamed. Soft black curls framed caramel-colored skin, bouncing as the girl shifted the crimson fabric of her 'work uniform'. The golden bangles on her bare ankles were adjusted for maximum comfort. Nidia's lips quirked in amusement, eyes still trained on perfecting her outfit. "Familiar in a good way or a bad way?" she teased. "You know how much I hate working with handsier clients. But, unfortunately, they do tend to bring in the best info. And they pay well." Her breath left her in a pouty sigh at the reminder of some of the 'private dances' she had been requested for, but she immediately perked up at the veiled praise of another dancer. 'I am good at finding bounties, aren't I,' she thought with a prideful tone. She let out a small chuckle. "The help is appreciated, however better-skilled I might be at my other job. Those 10000 chits sound nice, though...I'll be sure to follow up with it after I'm done wheedling extra tidbits of information tonight."

Nidia turned her attention away from her outfit and watched as the holoscreen appeared, revealing an ugly brute of a Trennel. She absentmindedly swapped out her piercings for flashier ones as she read the info, eyes scanning for the most minute details. Lithe fingers organized and compressed the data, swiping it to a disguised databand on her wrist. Her acid green eyes held their usual mischievous sparkle. With a lopsided grin, she swerved her head back to the one co-worker she would undoubtedly refer to as a friend. "Ylis, darling, you know I only work my body when it benefits me. Which isn't often. Besides, not everyone can be as naturally talented as you dear. So I, of course, would prefer to stick to both my literal and figurative guns."

She gracefully plopped herself into the empty space beside him, playfully mimicking his pose. A breathy laugh escaped her. With sarcasm lacing her words, she teased the Orvon. "Yes, thank you so much for your concern Lissy, I'm sure I'll certainly get beaten to a pulp by that terrifying thug. Because I most definitely haven't dealt with larger criminals before. I'll be absolutely," her hand raised to her chest dramatically. "Positively," her hand grasped her neck. "Helpless." The ornately painted nails of the Sirpetes glinted as her hand fanned her in a mock gesture of being overwhelmed. She leaned back casually, crossing her arms and tilting her chin up in a show of self-assuredness. "Trennels are famed for their lack of duplicity, integrity, and above all: intellect. That last one is reserved for higher-ups. And their skin looks tough, but I doubt it'll be a match for my acid. So, yeah, I can take this bounty. I'm sure it'll be a piece of cake."

As she said that last bit, a soft noise sounded in the dressing room signaling that it was time for the dancers to switch out. Nidia jumped quickly on her feet, shooting a smirk at the Orvon. "Looks like that's our cue. Let's get this over with, shall we?"

The Sirpetes practically bounced on the balls of her feet as they made their way to the stage. Some dancers exchanged quick pleasantries with the last shift before trudging on. The neon lights flashed here and there, with the usual haze in the air. The faintest shimmer from the force field was visible, although probably more noticeable to a more trained eye. All the strobing lights glanced pleasingly off the golden bangles of the dancers as they moved. Acid green eyes scanned the crowd for those familiar faces Ylis had mentioned.

---

It had been a long time since a stranger had intervened on her behalf that Melusine just there and watched the Ryzekt bounty hunters be eviscerated. But the shock wore off quickly, and the scene of carnage brought a smile to Melusine's lips. The lead Ryzekt scuttled away quickly to put some distance between him and the scaled monstrosity picking apart his comrade. He let out a bestial screech in anger. Once of his eye stalks bent backward and squinted at Melusine.

She offered him a wry grin and winked. She had given up the warrior's way a lifetime ago, even forsaking her royal blood, but somehow watching peons trying to pick a fight with lions never got old.

He marshaled his men to fire at will, and scorch rays of light singed the air, but he was too slow. Maddy had cobbled together a shield from the junk nearby, and dove into the fray. The fight was so one-sided, she almost felt bad for the Ryzekt. If she had joined the fight as well, they would all be fluorescent orange stains on the floor.

"You boys only reap what you sow." She said as she stepped from behind Maddy's shield and elegantly dodged one last laser bolt from a dying Ryzekt.

A warm smile cross her face as she watched Maddy nearly prance back like a loyal cat who had caught mouse. She bent down and petted Maddy's sleek, cybernetic head, ignoring the broken insectoid at her feet. "You did a fantastic job protecting me, little one. I'll treat you to something nice later, when we go back to meet the others. Ok?"

She caught a flinch of movement from the creature on the ground, and she jammed the butt of her walking cane into its broken arm without hesitation. "Really now Zagera'akk? You should know better," she chided. "The fight is over, just sit still while I figure out what to do with you." Zagera'akk was silent for moment, shocked that she would even know his name. He groaned and nodded obediently, but Melusine kept his arm pinned.

Her attention drifted to the scaled Drakothar that had intervened on her behalf. "Kindness is a rare sight these days. Too few us look out for each other anymore. Thank you, stranger, we are in your debt." She inclined her head in a curt bow. Her disarming smile and soft expression belied the subtle tension in her body. She hadn't dropped her guard at all. "No need to be shy. Please tell us your name. And what brings you to hollow grove of all places?"

---

---

*static*

"...αη∂ ιт ωαѕ ℓιкє тнє ¢ιтα∂єℓ ιη тнє gιαηт ѕтαя: ωαям нυgѕ, ℓαυgнѕ αη∂ кιѕѕєѕ. ιт'ѕ αℓℓ ѕнє яєαℓℓу ωαηтє∂, уσυ кησω? ѕнє ∂ι∂η'т мєαη тσ ѕℓαу тнє ∂яαgση... вυт тнє єgg. ιт ωαѕ яαιηвσωѕ, b͓̽e͓̽a͓̽t͓̽i͓̽n͓̽g͓̽ ͓̽h͓̽e͓̽a͓̽r͓̽t͓̽s͓̽ αη∂ ƒα¢єραιηт. тнєη ιт нαт¢нє∂ αη∂ συт ¢αмє нєя ηєω ѕ¢αℓу, ѕмιℓєу ƒяιєη∂..."

*static*



Angrily sculpted yellow eyes blinked once, twice then nodded enthusiastically and appreciatively at Melusine's praise. A momentary pause she took as she readjusted her 'grin' to settle into a more menacing expression. Her huge head slowly swiveled away from the old lady and turned to focus upon the wounded intruder at her feet. With lower jaw quivering, her metallic snout leered in close at the Ryzekt and paused once her scanners took in enough data to conclude the intruder's current threat level. Maddy leaned back away from it while simultaneously retrieving its weapon with her tail. The business end of the barrel shoved firmly and snugly into the mouth of the intruder, "ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ᴀꜱ ᴀᴜɴᴛɪᴇ ꜱᴀʏꜱ ᴏʀ ᴇʟꜱᴇ... 'ɢᴜɴɴᴀ' ʜᴀᴠᴇᴛᴀ' ᴡᴀꜱᴛᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ᴀꜱꜱ, ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀ. ᴀ-ʏᴜʜ...' ʙᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴏᴛ ᴡᴀꜱᴛᴇ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ ʀᴇꜱᴏᴜʀᴄᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙɪᴏ-ꜱʏꜱᴛᴇᴍꜱ ɪɴᴛᴏ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴀɴᴅ ɪʀʀᴇᴠᴏᴄᴀʙʟᴇ ꜰᴀɪʟᴜʀᴇ. ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴜꜱᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ ᴍʏ ᴛᴀꜱᴋ."

Another firm shove sent the business end of the blaster another centimtere down its throat. A slow and level nod she gave the wounded intruder before turning her attention back towards Melusine and the newcomer. "ᴛʜʀᴇᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴘᴀᴄɪꜰɪᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜰᴜʟʟ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴀɴᴅ, ᴀᴜɴᴛɪᴇ," said the heavily digitally distorted voice of the LoveBot sleeve, "ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴠɪᴇᴡ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɴᴇᴡ ᴄᴏᴍᴇʀ."

The curt yet acknowledging bow Melusine tossed the newcomer, Maddy mimicked and did so in time with her Auntie... all the while the blaster's barrel still remained firmly corking up the mouth of the lead Ryzekt. Angrily sculpted eyes blinked twice then Maddy made a sound like she was clearing her throat. "ᴀʜᴇᴍ. ꜱᴇɴꜱᴏʀꜱ ɪɴᴅɪᴄᴀᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀɴ ᴀᴅᴜʟᴛ ᴅʀᴀᴋᴏᴛʜᴀʀ. ᴘᴇʀʜᴀᴘꜱ ᴡᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴀꜱᴋ ɪᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪᴛ ᴇᴀᴛꜱ. ᴏꜰꜰᴇʀɪɴɢ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ, ᴅʀɪɴᴋ ᴏʀ ʜᴇᴀᴠɪʟʏ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛᴇɴᴇᴅ ɴᴏᴜʀɪꜱʜᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴜɴɪᴠᴇʀꜱᴀʟ ɢᴇꜱᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ.ɢᴏᴏᴅᴡɪʟʟ, ᴄᴏʀʀᴇᴄᴛ, ᴀᴜɴᴛɪᴇ? ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴇʀʜᴀᴘꜱ ᴡᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴏꜰꜰᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ꜱɪᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱɪᴛ ɪꜰ ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ᴀɴᴀᴛᴏᴍɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ꜱᴏ. ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴇᴠᴇʟ ᴇʏᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ ɪꜱ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ꜰᴏʀᴍ ᴏꜰ ꜱʜᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏɴ ᴇQᴜᴀʟ/ʟᴇᴠᴇʟ 'ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ,' ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴀᴜɴᴛɪᴇ? ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴇʀʜᴀᴘꜱ ᴡᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜱᴇᴇ ɪꜰ ɪᴛ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴜꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴇɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅꜱ ɪᴛ ʜᴀꜱ? ᴘʀᴏᴠɪᴅɪɴɢ ʜᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ/ᴀɪᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙʀᴇᴇᴅ ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴇꜱ. ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ᴡʜʏ ᴡᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴇᴀʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀᴅᴜʟᴛ ʀʏᴢᴇᴋᴛ ɪɴᴛʀᴜᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜʏ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙʟᴀꜱᴛᴇʀ ᴛʀᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇꜰᴜʟʟʏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇ ᴀ ʜᴏʟᴇ ɪɴ ɪᴛꜱ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪᴛ ɴᴇᴇᴅꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴇᴀʀɴ ᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴜꜱᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇ ɪᴛꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴ ᴅᴏᴄɪʟᴇ, ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴀᴜɴᴛɪᴇ? ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴇʀʜᴀᴘꜱ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴘʟᴀʏ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇꜱɪʀᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ 'ᴘʟᴀʏꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ' ꜱᴜᴄᴄᴇꜱꜱꜰᴜʟʟʏ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀᴀᴋᴏᴛʜᴀʀ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴘᴇʀʜᴀᴘꜱ ᴡᴇ ᴍᴀʏ ꜰᴜʀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴇᴀꜱᴇ ɪᴛꜱ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇʜᴇɴꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴡᴀʏ ɪᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀɴ ᴏꜰꜰᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ɪɴᴇʙʀɪᴀᴛɪɴɢ ꜱᴜʙꜱᴛᴀɴᴄᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɴ....! ᴏʜ! ᴍᴀʏ ɪ ᴀꜱᴋ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴀʀɴ ɪᴛꜱ ɴᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴀᴜɴᴛɪᴇ?"

Although her sensors picked it up, Maddy paid no mind to the WTF expression flooding from the blaster-eating Ryzekt's predatory face. "ᴏʜ ᴀɴᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ... ᴀɢᴀɪɴ: ʜɪ, ɪ ᴀᴍ ᴍᴀᴅᴅʏ," said the heavily digitally distorted voice of the LoveBot sleeve, another friendly nod gracing the winged new comer, "ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱ ᴀᴜɴᴛɪᴇ ᴍᴇʟᴜꜱɪɴᴇ. ꜱʜᴇ ɪꜱ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴇ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ. ɪ ᴀᴍ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏᴍᴍʏ."

Once more her sensors picked up the morphing expression upon the Ryzekt's face, but she did however re-affirm her threat by shoving the blaster another centimetre down its throat, immediately forcing it to stop slowly shaking its head.