Niraverine

”An accountant”, the Corsair repeated tonelessly then waved her hand to disperse the smoke. The bloody thing scratched at her throat and she had to stifle a cough. The rest of the sentence came out a little strangled as a result. “Really? Me? And here I thought that our Steward would be a better fit for sophisticated roles like this one.” She rubbed her face with slight frustration, unhappy with yet another intrigue, then grinned cheekily to cover the previous slip of her mask. “She definitely simulates that sickness by the way. I would too if I realised we’re playing at elaborate covers and bizarre backstories again.” Simulating or no, if Eirene had that idea sooner she soon would be borrowing Mahan’s war figurines now and bribing bored Solomani with them. Then, maybe, some controlled ransacking of that liquor cabinet that the Steward was jealously guarding would be allowed. A missed opportunity for harmless scheming and trying out the shiny toys of their captain. She glanced at Dazl with resignation. “I hope you are not against some creativity in your accounting.” She would be a truly spectacular choice for an accountant, Eirene mused ironically. Kovačević Bookkeeping Brilliance - counts, appraises, misplaces funds then somehow ends up broke due to tragically fluctuating tide of the market. At least officially. She shook her head and left the ship. The streets and the place itself were as she expected, so few minutes later Eirene was already strolling through them with disinterested expression, posture relaxed, hands stuffed deep in her pockets, fingers occasionally taping at the weapon hidden in one of them. Only her eyes carefully scanned the surroundings in search for any irregularities. Soon it was spotted and the hand still hidden in her pocket twitched slightly. Of course they had a tail already. Theoretically, it could be there for someone else, but the Corsair doubted it. More crowds, more obstacles, more disguises. Deciding that Urien can handle the bouncer just fine, the Corsair tuned off his atrocious dialect that sounded as if it was straight from Lazlo’s World and looked around once more. And there she was! The tail. If the figure was still observing them, then it was no accident and she would probably try to follow them inside. And inside… Inside Eirene would start her own hunt.

Eirene spent most of the flight to Theev either in the bay, poking at the ultralight and finding faults in it that could be improved upon some investing, or in her quarters, minding her own business or trying to find equipment that could possibly improve said ultralight. As a result, the two weeks passed uneventfully even if they were dragging a little. Now, when finally on the planet itself, she observed the Widows closely. She knew the many rumours. The assassins. The secret police. The clones sharing consciousness and mind, which was probably the most outlandish one, at least in the Corsair's humble opinion. Still, there was something about the figures that made her extremely wary, even if she could not put her finger on what it was. Eirene grimaced slightly and glanced back at Kesper. "Something much more final, friend", she muttered under her breath then turned her attention to the leader. "Those are reasonable laws and we shall adhere to those. We're not looking for troubles nor untimely demise, however one more question, if I may, for the sake of my companions", she started politely. "I've been told it is reasonable to expect that in case of someone breaking the law of the Upper City and attacking the others, the defending party is not necessarily punished so severely, providing the things didn't... Escalate." She punctuated the last word with air quotes. "Is that true or was it a morbid trickery of a drunken merchant?" She was reasonably sure that was the case, at least few years ago, but she would rather know for certain - and be sure that all of her crew members are aware of that too.

The vessel was in a rather sorry state, the Corsair noted with some detachment, still not entirely believing in what she was seeing. The Reclaimer's Intent turned out to be a small piece of technological art - a very deadly one. Further investigation led part of their party to the cages and that information soured her mood. It was therefore not really a surprise that she didn't have even an ounce of patience for cheeky barking of a defeated enemy pilot. Eirene slowly spinned in the pilot's chair that she liberated a moment ago and glared at the pilot icily. "Those are slavers' cages in the cargo." She slowly raised from her seat then grabbed the man by the front of his clothes and shoved her Gauss pistol under his jaw. "As it happens", she informed him conversationally, "I am in the business of freeing goods, moving and then liquidating them. I follow some rules though and if I find out that the goods are feeling creatures I liquidate the owners of the cargo instead." The safety of the pistol clicked. "So one more empty threat or taunt and I shall redecorate this room with your brain just like I redecorated this whole ship with one accurate missile", the corsair growled, the anger after discovering the tight cages finally flaring. "Now, who's that loser you've been invoking for the whole time?" The question was once more a lazy drawl, although keeping the facade required some effort from her.

The longer Eirene spent on repairs, the more creative she was getting in regards to what she would do to the heathens who decided to damage the facility in this particular way. If only she could get her hands on them! Her wish was granted soon enough. Considering her foul mood and less than civil daydreams it was no surprise that when the Ogmans finally appeared and she boarded The Reclaimer's Intent, she ran to the missile turret as fast as she could, full of gleefully vengeful thoughts. She was more than ready to fire it, preferably at Romeo 1. The crew made ridiculous demands, fired at her ship, then tried to gloat and it seriously wounded the Corsair's professional pride. "Missile loaded and ready to fire", Eirene announced through the comm, a manic glint in her eyes.  

"Not really, he seems earnest in that sad, kicked puppy way, but I have a suggestion. One that may seriously irritate few people", Eirene started slowly, voice low. "He is a small, guilty, and not necessarily bright fish but he may be useful in the future. Why don't we take him up on his offer of putting a good word for us?", she raised her hand, a silent plea not to be interrupted and continued after a beat. "I know, not how the Navy would deal with the issue, but those contacts of his may be more valuable than whatever prize Torpol would pay us for one pushover that will definitely deny involvement in an attack." She paused and stayed silent for a moment, waiting for any protests or questions that could come. "If we decided to let him go it would have to be sooner rather than later. Our other guest doesn't strike me as someone who would wait for any higher power to punish those who wronged him and may break Krrsh's neck if he figures out who we have on board... and it's not difficult to put two and two together."

"Are we sure we didn't catch an Aslan in disguise?", Eirene inquired with raised eyebrows. "The attitude checks." Her eyes followed the retreating form of Urien, her jaw set, then she shook her head after the door closed. "Apologies for Olaf, he doesn't really understand some ways of proper conduct", she started slowly, her mind already raking through possibilities. Their unfortunate and unwilling passenger was just a tool, and not a very sharp one. Sure, they could bring him to Torpol's authorities and maybe get some sort of reward but then he will definitely point to actual perpetrators and their hunt will start anew. No, it would be much better to keep the man as a grateful and chatty contact then go for a bigger fish. Like that Silverhand lass or at least Krrsh's own mutinous crew. "He's a cat person, 'fraid it skewed his sense of civility", she finished with a smirk then pulled a chair towards herself and turned it so its backrest was in front of her. Before taking a seat corsair glanced at Mahan and mouthed a silent "A moment of talk when we're done", then flopped on the chair, arms hanging over the top of the backrest, whole body once more lazily slouching forward. "So one last question and you may finally relax. What can you tell us about that Miria? Sounds she is nearly as vital for Ferrik as your lieutenant was for you."

Eirene observed the spectacle that was unfolding before her eyes with bored expression. Neither the beaten dog act of Krrsh nor the good cop/bad cop routine from her crewmembers managed to crack the stoic facade. Mention of hiding from Chamaxes did. She snorted and gave their prisoner a long and ironical look. "I don't see why, they die easily enough." After that comment she fell silent again. The Corsair was thinking. They were missing something. Time to attack from a different angle. Her posture haven't changed, she was still lazily slouching against the wall, hands loosely crossed across her chest, but the tone of voice she used was chilly and no-nonsense. "This is all nice and dandy, but you still haven't mentioned Clarke attack that happened before Torpol", she started phlegmatically, sharp eyes observing Krrsh closely. "Same style of attack, you see. Whose idea it was? Yours or your second in command? The people of that planet are very unhappy with your crew, you know." Well, maybe it wasn't their doing but some other crew, if the story about conflict between pirates was true, but treating him as a main perpetrator would allow them to get another strong reaction that Rahne could use.

She stifled the urge to roll her eyes. Jumping to conclusions and rash decisions seemed to be a favoured past time for the Humaniti everywhere. "We need to first be sure Krssh indeed is a part of the bounty", Eirene started slowly. "I don't trust him but for now we don't have a proof he was among those who attacked Torpol... his race and the eerily similar name that he gave us are not enough until he spills." She grimaced then continued after a pause. "That said, there's a reason he was abandoned to become a snack and I'd like to know it - it would tell us with whom exactly we are and will be dealing." The corsair leaned on the closest console and tapped her fingers on it, the gesture indicating some impatience. "Personally, I'd remind him that he no longer owes his companions anything because they left him to a gruesome death... but he owes us, for that rescue and free ride to the, uh-" She glanced at the panels displaying the view of their landing pad, surrounding area, trenches and the guarding force. "-civilisation", she finally finished with a slightly ironical inflection. She continued after a beat. "Depending on his personality, he might enjoy the idea of a pay back against his 'crew'. Promising him anything specific now is however slightly risky. We could push the Provost to do what we want, true, but is this man worth the possible grudge from the world that the king would want in his sphere of influence? I'd make my promise more vague, maybe offer speaking for him, but clemency might be a little too much. I could assist you in your interrogation if you wish so." She shrugged again and crossed her arms loosely, seemingly not having anything else to say.

Eirene followed Mahan and Urien wordlessly. She wasn't in a mood for talking after the events of past hours - nor in a mood to for any risky endeavours for that matter. Soon it was clear though that just lurking behind the backs of her companions is no longer an option. "Fine", she sighed with resignation. "I'll try to space walk to that airlock on the second-deck. Should be faster." And with that, she prepared to depart.

Eirene did not anticipate that any of her attacks would be so devastating. She could swear she heard a pained howl of some cosmic trickster deity when her rounds blasted the first chamax into oblivion, then successfully ended the life of the second one. Had to be nerves though, she reasoned. Or the ringing in her ears when the static suddenly ended. For a moment, the corsair simply stood there motionlessly and stared blankly at what remained of the monsters. The bullets and the grenade hardly improved their looks. As a result, both carcasses were slightly singed as well as covered with grime and acid. So was she and her companions. Eirene absent-mindedly wiped the faceplate of her helmet with a forearm, smearing the disgusting mixture of blood and viscera even more in the process, then holstered Gauss pistol. Her eyes darted from Kesper to Rahne, then back to Kesper. No visible bullet damage. It was a relief. "Sorry for opening fire so close to you", she murmured sheepishly. Truth be told, she didn't trust herself with a regular melee. It was a skill that she would need to improve, and soon. She shook her head to clear it and suddenly changed the subject. "Think that's enough surprises for today and we can safely explore this place to find the powerplant?" Anything to make this place look less creepy and more pillage-friendly... The eyes behind the visor suddenly glinted with excitement, the woman already trying to guess what kind of treasures they could potentially find there and to calculate their worth.

Considering their grim fame, the chamaxes standing before Eirene looked eerily still, the movements of their thoraxes notwithstanding. Or maybe their previous experiences with stranded pirates made them too sure of themselves, came a slightly nonsensical thought followed by another: she was right. She was bloody right, she just didn't anticipate two of those critters. The movement to turn on her smart tracker which would considerably help with aiming the Gauss rifle at the creature closest to her was automatic. A fraction of a second to focus on info showing on the holographic display of her P-HUD and then Eirene squeezed the trigger. The shots came out in bursts.

'Clear off the jamming', the corsair thought grimly while observing the doctor. Easier said than done. Her eyes darted from her companions to shadowed corners of the section, hands gripping raised rifle, her thoughts in disarray. It was those cries for help that set her on edge. They were suspicious - precisely the kind of a setup that someone luring people into a trap would use. Someone. Eirene stifled a nervous laughter that was threatening to rise in her throat. She knew the type of people who could spring a trap like this one. They even left their signatures. How were those sounds made though if the signal was actually jammed? She would bet a lot on the station being empty save for the monster. Once more, she tried to remember anything useful about Chamax. Nothing came to mind, other than a fairly common knowledge that they are all psionic. Powerfully so. Which meant that her first, slightly ridiculous idea of a hive mind actually being able to project to other species was not as ridiculous as she thought. There would be no frequency to clear then, nor people to rescue - only the predator awaiting. Well, no people to rescue except for the three of us, she mused, her lips quirking up in a bout of gallows humour. Standing idly was the last thing she wanted at that moment. She made several frantic gestures at her companions, indicating she's going to retreat and then move towards the admin section. She moved slowly and carefully then looked around once more and tensed. She could swear the door to her left wasn't wide open earlier. I will shoot, she decided grimly, I will shoot whatever it is. I will worry about potentially innocent victims later. A glance behind her, to check whether Rahne and Kesper were following her and she focused once more on the door and the surrounding area, trying to spot something, anything, that would be of help. What she did notice soured her mood even further. The crank opening the valve was jammed, quite thorougly too. If they needed to close the door entirely, it would take few precious minutes. Even more alarming was the fact that either the vargr managed to slip behind their backs or they already had company. Three steps backwards, another exaggerated wave at her companions to show them her findings, then she typed a short message. 'DOORS CLOSED ARE NOW OPEN. MANUAL CRANK JAMMED. ARE WE PROCEEDING TO THE NEAREST BATTERY?'

It was like a beginning of a horror story, Eirene noted grimly. An abandoned, ancient station, a distress call, cryptic messages, signs of a frantic defense and a monster awaiting somewhere in the heart of the structure. Precisely the setting that she always prayed not to encounter back when she was still a scout. Or not to end up in after a disagreement with a crew. The corsair stared at the message... no, not the message, the ravings. It was hardly coherent and phrased as if spoken rather than written. She grimaced. The sound. What sound? What ghost? If that was a Chamax, it had a hive mind, but would a hive mind affect other creatures too? Influence the messenger, potentially influence those boarding the station? She supressed a shudder. "This is well beyond our pay grade and I have a ba-ad feeling about it", she muttered to no one in particular then checked her Gauss rifle. All appeared to be in order and she trailed after Kesper and Rhane. "Where to? Comms room? If there are computers there I should be able to mess with them."      

Tlaiowaha Subsector Urien, Rhane, Eirene The Rusty Rogue, Torpol Downport, Lower Levels 012 (Week 1) 1105, Imperial   "I like the way you're thinking, doc", Eirene grinned cheekily, "and do not worry, I know him well enough to be sure that whatever leaves his mouth will instantly cause a knee-jerk reaction from me." She leaned on the table, drink held losely in hand, ready for whatever Urien would throw her way. She didn't wait long. The transformation was rather impressive. So was the pickup line he used, easily in top ten of the worst she's ever heard. She didn't even need to try very hard to look offended. The corsair grimaced and looked at the man down her nose. "Care to rethink that sentence?", she growled, her Imperial accent suddenly more pronounced. She leaned forward, the glass held in a white-knucled grip. To Urien's credit, he didn't flinch and somehow managed an even worse follow-up - and that was precisely what Eirene needed to feel justified for throwing both the fruity drink and then a left hook into his face. People were gawking. Some decided to move farther from them, just in case, some were nearly vibrating with excitement, hopeful for an actual brawl. Eirene scanned the crowd in search of bouncers. None that she could detect. Good. "Think I overdid that?", she muttered to Rhane while glancing at her victim, then discreetly massaged her knuckles. Yeah, she probably overdid that, if their stinging was any indication for that. She huffed. Hopefully, the ruse was worth it.

Hardly the weirdest request she's ever received. Easy to deliver too. Eirene just needed to remember all the times Urien's attitude was rubbing her the wrong way during the last week... and maybe some other things from the past. She glanced back at the man with an innocent expression. He clearly guessed what's been on her mind but he didn't need a proof that she was all too happy to assist. " 'fraid it has to be me, the good doctor probably swore not to bring harm to people. It would be the height of rudeness to expect her to pun-... slap you." She didn't quite manage to keep a neutral expression and someone observing her closely could manage to spot the gleeful glint in her narrowed eyes. "Besides", she continued lightly, "who in their right mind would put an Imperial and a Solomani on the same ship and expect tempers not to flare...", she trailed off and glanced suspiciously at the glass in her hand. Hopefully it wasn't a sugary abomination. With one last shrug she downed the drink in one go, grimaced a little (too fruity, damn this tourist trap), and slammed the glass onto the nearest table. "Now, try not to fill any complaints regarding the behavior of the XO", the corsair drawled sarcastically then cracked her fingers with a wry smile. "I am just being helpful."