Kiro Haas

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Urien, Rhane, Lindsey, Eirene, Kesperziaiepr, Mahan Landed at Downport, Borite 019 (Harrier, Week 2) 1105, Imperial On the voyage back from the Delta Vee, Rahne had taken the opportunity to exchange her vacc-suit for her regular clothes, and started to treat Dazl's medical issues, which included treating his broken arm, giving him some mild pain-killers to deal with his many bruises, and having a solid meal prepared. The enhanced humanoid had been showing the symptoms of some mild malnutrition, and given his adrenaline crash, he'd need some solid food and electrolytes and sugars. And, Rahne suspected, his enhanced physiology and his many redundant organs and his extremely elevated endocrine system - her medical scanner had initially made her think he was suffering from tachycardia because of the speed of his heartbeats - had also supercharged his metabolism. He simply had more things to power, and his body was redesigned to operate on a different level to baseline humaniti. As the ship landed, she joined Urien in exiting the ship. But as he jogs about the Intent, Rahne takes a deep breath to simply enjoy non-recycled fresh air, before producing her scientific toolkit and mediscanner to examine the air, both due to an abundance of caution and curiosity. It was always curious to discover what a planet's atmosphere contained, even if there wasn't anything toxic or dangerous in it. Just knowing what kind of pollen and seeds and microbial lifeforms were in the air was always intriguing to her, particularly compared to the sterility of spaceships. As she followed Urien back to the bridge, she voices her agreement with the Solomani spy. "I must agree with Urien, Captain," the Darrian doctor says, idly leaning against the seat of the gunnery position with her arms crossed across her chest. "While I'm disinclined to engage in kidnapping or removing a sophont's freedoms against their wills, it is likely he was part of the pirate crews, and the local planetary systems would take a very dim view to us releasing any pirates to hide on a world like Borite, where he could slip away for good," she elaborates, drumming the fingers of her right hand against her left arm. "Interring him in a cryoberth seems to be our best option for now, unless you wish for dear Kesperziaiepr and Astrid - he seems to have some kind of phobia towards feliniforms - to conduct a psychic interrogation of him, which might be a viable option regardless, however distasteful it may be."

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Rahne, Kesper Aboard the M.V. Delta Vee 019 (Week 2) 1105, Imperial Rahne had followed the rest of the Away Team into the Delta Vee, still as armed and ready has she had been during their voyage into the derelict space station, because she'd simply not removed her Vacc-Suit or disarmed. No, all she'd done during the hour long voyage from station to the marooned ship had been to take a long drink of electrolyte-enhanced water to deal with coming down from an adrenaline high from dealing with the Chamax in the station. So it'd been pretty simple for her to simply seal her helmet back on and head across from the Intent to the Delta Vee with the rest of her crewmates. As she and the others reach the lone survivor she quickly brings out her portable medscanner and does a quick and cursory examination of the so-called "D". She murmurs to herself during the quick examination, before turning to the other two bodies on the bridge, quickly confirming that yes, they are indeed quite dead by electrocution and the shocks and burns associated thereof. She calls out the information to the rest of the crew, including confirming that D does indeed have a broken arm. "Mister D," Rahne calls out to the massive individual, gesturing for him to follow, and making sure Kesper is aware. "If you'd care to follow me, we'll see to fixing your arm and whatever else that ails you," she continues, gesturing for him to follow her. "I would rather treat your injuries without having to risk causing a suit breach or having a vacc-suit in the way, and you could do with a rest, I dare say," she elaborates, as she starts heading back to the Reclaimer's Intent.

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Rhane, Eirene, Kesperziaiepr High Point station. 019 (Week 2) 1105, Imperial As the Away Team moves through the station - after having disabled the vacc-suit's com systems easily enough - Rahne's nerves continue to be on edge. Every step she takes feels like she's walking across her own grave. Every breath she draws feels like she's just emerged from an icy bath, struggling to feel her lungs. Every hair in the back of her neck stands on edge, and goosebumps crawl along her faintly gilded flesh. Something is just making everything about the situation feel wrong. It makes the gun in her hand twitch, and sweat to bead across her skin. It's not until the 'jamming' fades away that she realizes exactly what had set her nerves - a seasoned combat veteran and navy officer, a Special Arms operative - so on edge. The constant field of hostile psionics surrounding her and interfering with their communications. She barely as a split second to glance towards Kesper - her fellow Psion, whom certainly must have been feeling the same thing - before the two Chamax burst into the section with her. Then, the doctor utters a line so famous across the entertainment history of Humaniti, particularly before the discovery of the Hivers; "We got bugs!" she calls across the comm-line... just as her corsair colleague promptly atomizes one of the two Chamax warriors without a moment's hesitation. She joins Kesper in opening fire on the other one, though the lingering effects of the psionics clearly must have affected the Darrian doctor, as her laser blast goes awry... only for Eirene to splatter the second, coating the three of them in insectoid viscera and acid. Thankfully, their suits manage to resist the worst of it, but it's still somewhat unsettling. "Away team to Base, uh... threat neutralized. Bugs were behind the jamming. Psionic trick," Rahne chimes in over the comms, still blinking and wiping gunk off of her visor.

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Rhane, Eirene, Kesperziaiepr High Point station. 019 (Week 2) 1105, Imperial Rahne stays close to Kesper as they move through the station, a third of their tiny fire-team. She moves with caution, keeping her laser pistol trained before her whenever she moves, sweeping it back and forth to make sure that anything that leaps out of the shadows will taste laser beams before Darrian flesh. The quiet - especially thanks to the damn jamming - was keeping her nerves on edge. Her hearing was higher than those of humans and the other branches of Humaniti, such as Kesper, so being unable to hear anything at all except her own breathing and whatever vibrations managed to come through the soles of her heavy boots was particularly eerie. When they reach Section 8, her gaze is drawn to the computer console - though she's dilligent enough to sweep the room alongside Kesper and Eirene. She simply nods to her squad leader and quickly moves towards the console after his frantic non-verbal commands. She grabs the floating vacc-suit communications suite, quickly examining the wiring bodge-job that connects it to the comms array, before examining the computer itself, trying to find the source of the jamming - if it was coming from inside the station in the first place - or if nothing else, a way to use the system to contact the Reclaimer's Intent.

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Urien, Rhane, Lindsey, Eirene, Kesperziaiepr, Mahan On approach to the High Point station... 019 (Week 2) 1105, Imperial Switching airlocks didn't exactly help Rahne feel any more optimistic or excited about the prospect of boarding the station, especially considering the ominous messages left behind. Particularly when they were also at the second airlock. She follows close to Kesper, laser pistol drawn and shield at the ready, her other tools attached to her vacc suit if needed. As they arrive at the damaged suit, Rahne kneels down and examines the damage to the suit, the blood, the green stain, and she swallows heavily. "Base, this is the Doctor. I can confirm we have bugs. We have one confirmed victim," she replies, pouring out the viscous and half-frozen slurry left in the boot before rising away from the body and keeping a firm grip on her laser pistol. She nods to herself as she listens to Urien's suggestion over the comms as she moves along with Kesper, making sure to keep him in her peripheral vision, but not block his lines of fire if things got ugly. "Roger that, Base. We'll keep an eye out for any computer systems or cameras where we can splice in," Rahne replies, though that was hardly her primary concern right now. She was far more keen on avoiding becoming a snack for a ravenous Chamax in the very near future. She knew well enough what the insectoid creatures could do, and was not relishing fighting them in the confines of a derelict space station, nor tending to any wounds Kesper and Eirene might sustain during the battle. Chemical burns were always difficult, nevermind the lacerations from those claws and mandibles, secondary infections, or hypoxia and hypothermia and radiation sickness that might come from their suits being torn... "Let's proceed with all due caution, yes?" She murmurs, glancing over at Kesper, who was officially in command of the Away Team.

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Urien, Rhane, Lindsey, Eirene, Kesperziaiepr, Mahan On approach to the High Point station... 019 (Week 2) 1105, Imperial As the ship docked, and the airlock opened the unusual lighting is in itself enough to set the good doctor's nerves on edge, to a degree where she draws her laser pistol and extend her shield. Of course, that feeling of concern only deepens once she's directed the ship's cameras to the unusual symbol and the message below. The information that's fed back is... less than wholesome, and only adds to the concern she feels prickling the back of her ears. "It seems we have evidence of pirate activity here, Captain," Rahne comments across the radio, sweeping her laser pistol back and forth across the airlock as she advances, slowly. "Their message is a bit concerning, if I'm honest..." She continues, using her suit's lamps to keep whatever's before her illuminated, so she can get a clear shot if need be. "Why write 'good luck' if they didn't leave behind some kind of trap? Why switch the lights to UV blacklight?" She continues, still advancing with her shield held before her and her laser pistol at the ready, moving cautiously, the oh-so-familiar sound of magnetic boots clamping and releasing with every step she takes into the unknown of the seemingly abandoned Sindalian station.

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Urien, Rhane, Lindsey, Eirene, Kesperziaiepr, Mahan On approach to the suit distress signal... 019 (Week 2) 1105, Imperial   "Thank you." Rahne had been more than happy to spend part of the down-time during transit to spar with Kesperziaiepr, as it provided a good way to occupy her mind during the long, dull hours of interstellar travel, and a good way to keep herself in shape and her skills sharp. While the Zhodani was hardly a challenge on the sparring mat, he at least provided an interesting distraction. And she had to admit, it felt good to actually teach again. "Given the nature of the relations between our races, I do not know if you are aware of this fact or not, Kesperziaiepr, but in the Darrian navy, we do not use blades. They're exclusively symbolic pieces, when they are used, for the ship's captain. Otherwise, we prefer to use our bodies as weapons." She explains during the break in their training, as her Zhodani crewmate rehydrated. "In a zero-gravity environment, a skilled martial artist can possess multiple advantages over a combatant using a blade. Namely --" She begins, only to be cut off as Captain Mahan's voice comes across the ship's intercom. She looks over to the Zhodani and nods. Rahne had quickly moved to one of the ships' lockers after emerging from the 'fresher, and having dressed and armed herself in her own quarters. There, she quickly donned one of the ship's vacc suits, having received the details of the situation from Urien and the captain during over the intercom. Once she was satisfied her suit was properly done up and the systems showed all green, she made her way to the ship's airlock, adjusting her comm-dot in her pointed ear. Mentally she goes over her secondary check-list: Laser pistol? Charged, Check. Gauss pistol? Loaded, Check. Claw-glove? Check. Shield? Check. Medikit and scanner? Check. Autohacker and computer? Check. "Bridge? This is Dr. Rahne. Standing by in the primary airlock, ready to go at your order. And if we're lucky, maybe we can find a sword for you, Captain."

Tlaiowaha Subsector Urien, Rhane, Eirene The Rusty Rogue, Torpol Downport, Lower Levels 012 (Week 1) 1105, Imperial Rhane quirked an eyebrow as a drink was suddenly thrust into her hands. She glanced at Urien for a moment, before turning her gaze back to the drink. She gave it a brief sniff, and was at least satisfied that the alcohol content was strong enough to kill off any bacteria that may have developed in the glass in an establishment such as this. She also quirked an eyebrow at Urien's comment, but understood the ploy easily enough. It was a fairly standard infiltration tactic, and while she might not have gone on such missions while she was part of the Special Arms branch, she had received training in such tactics. "Very well," she comments as she takes a sip of the drink, finding that her assessment was more or less in line with Eirene's. Too sweet, ruining the balance of the cocktail. She gently reaches out to touch the corsair's shoulder, and passes her drink to the woman. "When he returns, throw the drink in his face as well. It'll help sell his ploy, if they see him drenched in booze," she murmurs under her breath. "And try to look offended, not like you're getting your Ascension Day present early." She leaned slightly against the table Eirene had slammed her original glass into, doing her best to just look bored, as if she wasn't waiting for Urien to show up and try to flirt - badly - with her and Eirene, and that the other woman wasn't going to punch the Solomani in the face. "Don't worry about breaking his nose or dislocating his jaw," she whispers. "I'll fix it when we return to the ship."  

Tlaiowaha Subsector Urien, Rhane, Eirene Torpol System 012 (Week 1) 1105, Imperial   Rhane had followed Urien and Eirene like a shadow, keeping her silence for the most part as she watches and observes. This was her two compatriots' habitat, not her own. She was a doctor, a scientist, an officer, and a lady. She'd let the two ruffians of the crew take charge when it came to being... well, ruffians, and handling ruffianism. She also refused to comment on Urien's choice of meal in his bag of stew, especially as the man just as quickly threw it away. K'kree food wasn't for everyone.   "I leave the choice of venue to the two of you," she murmurs, her arms folded behind her back as she follows their gazes to the two venues they seem to be debating over. "Though, if you'd be so kind as to illuminate a layperson like myself, why have you chosen to discard the Starfall venue from your debate?" She queries, rolling her shoulders within her coat for a moment, flexing her single gloved hand behind her back. At least she'd be more than prepared if a brawl began, which seemed likely if Urien was anything to go by.  

The ship's doctor had spent the time it took to travel from Dirnax to Torpol getting acquainted with the ship's layout. That it lacked it's own medbay was concerning, but it wasn't the first time she'd been aboard a ship without a medbay. She'd simply have to adjust. That it lacked a science lab was a minor annoyance compared to the lack of medical facilities. Without such facilities, the doctor had found herself a bit listless, after making sure their passengers had a clean bill of health. So she had spent most of her free time either exercising - to keep herself in shape - or studying the science behind Astrogation, considering the crew didn't have a dedicated Astrogator. There was frankly a stupendous amount of things this crew and ship was lacking. When the ship came out of the jump, and the robotic announcement was broadcast across the ship's speakers, the doctor hurried into the bridge, still in what anyone who had spent time in any armed forces of any of the humanoid cultures would immediately recognize as the bog standard Exercise Uniform, though this one in the cut and colours of the Darrian Confederacy's navy. She arrived in time to hear Eirene's suggestion, and Kesper's teasing barb. "You should have seen Zlodh. Entire city, and the university, was underwater, at the northern pole," she replies, as if to distract Kesper perhaps... or entirely horrify Eirene. As for the rest of it, she has to agree with her new crewmates' assessments, but hasn't anything particularly relevant to add to the discussion. She knew how to infiltrate a city, if need be, not how to be a detective or a law enforcement officer. "I have no objections to these plans. Just give me a moment to get properly... attired," the pointy-eared doctor murmurs, gesturing to her exercise clothes.

The Darrian doctor consults the readout on her scanner while leaning against one of the bridge's chairs, idly humming to herself as she goes over the data and the health of the different crew. She smiles at Eirene, lightly drumming her fingers against the trim of the scanner. "Unfortunately not a promise I can make, miss. I will do whatever it takes to maintain the health of this crew, even if it includes unsightly and antiquated needles. But I will try to keep their use to a bare minimum," she promises. As Mahan begins his election speech, she quirks an eyebrow and glances over at the Dirnaxian, a light tug on her lips to form a ghost of a smirk.  "I too, spent eight years as a bridge officer, albeit in the navy of the Darrian Confederation, serving first in the science station before having brevet command. I left the Navy at the rank of Commander, having been recruited to a more investigatory and research oriented branch of the armed forces where I served for another twelve years, including conducting field experiments." She chimes in, noting Mahan's pipe smoking and Urien's comments about drinking in her files, adding it to their fresh scans. "This is on top of the aforementioned status of being an Emeritus Professor in the fields of biology, chemistry, and being an M.D. of Internal and Emergency Medicine, with full association in the associated surgical fields," the white-haired scientist adds on, in an almost off-handed manner. As Astrid coils herself around Urien's legs, she takes the opportunity to take a quick scan of the feline as well. Just in case.

As Mahan, Urien, Eirene and the rest of the crew speak with the 'Architect' on the projection, the doors to the bridge hiss open, and into the bridge strides a tall white-haired woman, dressed in what is presumably a suit of combat armour with the actual plates removed, underneath a long lab coat. Thanks to the way her hair is swept back and gathered into a pony-tail, the crew can pick out that her ears are pointed, unlike the rounded ears of humaniti. She is carrying what looks like a portable mediscanner in one hand, and a pair of pistols holstered on her hips. A pair of ruby red eyes take in the group gathered in the bridge, silently, before taking a couple of steps further and then politely curtseying to the projection of Princess Rao. "Ah, your Royal Highness. A pleasure to see you again," the white-haired Darrian speaks up, before adjusting her lab coat again, brushing off some imaginary dust. "I assume this would be the crew you mentioned. A pleasure to meet you all. I am Rhane Te-Lari Kyra, Emeritus Professor of the University of Zhlod, and a Doctor of both Internal and Emergency Medicine, with full association in the associated surgical fields." She explains, before powering up her portable medical scanner, and promptly taking a scan of each member of the crew, Astrid included. "Her Royal Highness hired me to see to your medical needs, as she is under the impression that you would require a competent physician on a regular basis, including one who is accustomed to combat and possessing certain other skills," the Darrian scientist continues, pausing briefly at Kesper's scan, humming lightly to herself as she examines some of the data. "And did I not warn you against smoking those, Ma'am?" Kyra questions the projection of their employer and future ruler of the Empire they had been hired to form, and her tone conveying a note of long standing exasperation, as if it was an old and tired topic that had been covered many a time. "You know the health risks involved..."

The Bwap waddles eagerly down the ramp of the Harrier to greet the oncoming air/rafts and the cheerful music that reminded the amphibian of its' childhood and homeworld, clapping its gloved hands together with glee. Its' wet and webbed feet slaps against the gilded floor as it approaches its kinsfolk. Dwappa-ta-pefoba-a-awapate-a-ka grasps the edges of it's kaftan, spreading its' arms wide while dropping into a bow, using it's tail to help spread the hems until the Bwap looked like an overgrown lily-pad when seen from above. It was an old and traditional way of greeting the merchant, showing that the Bwap was indeed unarmed, and intended no harm, while showing respect to the merchant who was - technically - putting their life and livelyhood on the line whenever they brought out their wares. Crime might be unusual and even unnatural to most Bwap, but that didn't mean it never happened. "Friend Rachando! Friend Dwappa-ta-pefoba-a-awapate-a-ka I am!" The Bwap croaks out as it folds its kaftan back around itself and approaches the merchant. "A great pleasure this is, another Bwap here to be meeting!" It continues, a smile on it's broad and lipless mouth. "Much need for your services we have!"

The Bwap's already wide mouth widens even more as it smiles at Eirene actually using it's full name, even if she horribly mangled the pronounciation, as almost any human did, but that was hardly her fault, now was it? Humans just weren't made to speak the Words of Wisdom after all. The amphibian was about to open it's mouth to compliment the Vilani on her valiant attempt, when that train of thought is horribly and violently interrupted by the screech of metal on metal as Urien's cat begins to toy with one of the drones scattered about the bay. The Bwap's displeasure is quite evident by how it's bulbous eyes start to blink rapidly in an unsynchronized fashion, whenever that horribly grating sound emerges. "Urien, your cat, please away from drones keep?" It croaks, before shuddering and flicking it's tail rapidly back and forth behind it. It then proceeds to look between the rest of its' future crewmates, before slowly closing its eyes - the bulbous spheres retracting slightly into it's skull to present a more streamlined profile - and curling it's tail around itself. "Diplomacy.  Of it, have any of you heard?" The Bwap mutters, before opening its eyes again as its eyes return to their normal state. The Bwap knew the value of diplomacy well, especially with worthies of any civilization or groups, no matter how small. And a Lord Admiral who has the ear of their employer - particularly one as notoriously impetuous as King Oleb - was someone that was best kept sweet, if at all possible. Not someone to antagonize. Even if he couldn't strike at them directly, he could cause a lot of difficulties for them by simply tying them all up in red tape. The oldest trick in every naval force known to any Sophont. The Bwap was then about to turn and complain to Urien - yet again - that Bwaps do not shed their skin like that, as they are amphibians, not reptiles, when the tunes and jingle of a familiar piece of music reaches its' ears. It draws a deep breath in a gasp, jumping up and rapidly clapping its' hands together in excitement. "This music! This ritual Bwap knows!" It warbles, jumping rapidly from one leg to the other in excitement, while trying to spot someone that is presumably approaching.

"It flies," croaked the Bwap, in response to Eirene's question. The amphibian waddled forward to the front of the group - pausing briefly to give a bow (obviously shallower than the one given to the King and the Princess) to the Lord Admiral - to examine the ship, those large bulbous eyes wandering over the sleek and predatory lines of the stricken Harrier. "Bwap knows. Many ships, Bwap has seen. Damaged. Ruined. Pristine," it practically warbles as it's broad and webbed feet slap against the greasy gilded floor of the hangar, darting with surprising alacrity in and out of the crew working on the ship. "Harrier is hurt. Damaged, yes-yes," the aging scout continues as it virtually hops and skips up along the cargo ramp to inspect an open panel where some Dirnaxian engineers had clearly been at work mere moments ago. A polymer gloved finger reaches inside, prodding and poking at seemingly random bits and pieces, while a rumbling croak and rapid fire clicking - not unlike a primitive Geiger counter - emits from the Bwap. "Bwap has with far more injured ships worked. Made them fly! Yes-yes. Hmmh..." It continues it's prodding for a moment, before pulling back the head-cover and neck-seal of it's kaftan... before literally shoving its entire slick amphibian head inside the hole in the panel. After about a minute of this close proximity examination, there is a moment of brief struggle as the Bwap struggles to retrieve itself from the panel. In the end, it is forced to brace its' hind legs on the wall for support, before it pops free with a loud and wet noise eerily akin to that of a Human slurping up soggy noodles. From the ground, where the Bwap had made a perhaps undignified landing on it's gluteus Bwapicus maximus, it turns its' head to the rest of its' soon-to-be crewmates. "But for flight, it is quite ready. Bwap can tell. This reepa-reep-a-pefoba is flight-eager!"