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."

Lovely area, Eirene thought sarcastically and stuffed hands into her pockets. Those three places that they've noticed looked promising, but they needed a moment to finally make some decisions. She spotted a relatively secluded spot on the other side of the alley and went in that direction with a small gesture for her companions to follow. Navigation through the crowd was instinctual for her even if it took a little longer than she would like. She briskly walked past a vendor trying to sell them small key-chains depicting some famous Torpolian building that she never heard about and didn't bother to remember ("Only 3 credits! If you take two you'll pay 5 credits! Great deal!"), waved away a guy trying to sell trips around "the historical centre of the Downport", jumped over the puddle of... something... and finally reached her destination which thankfully allowed her to look closely at the Starfall. “Out of curiosity, how are your betting habits these days?” The tone in which it was asked was seemingly disinterested and the corsair herself appeared to be mostly observing the crowd surrounding the entrance to the flashy establishment. No, she decided, that one won’t do. Which left either Gambit or Rogue, but the first one only if someone actually was in control of his addiction. Eirene side-eyed Urien. “Well? That gambling den would be my first choice if I wanted to find dirt on someone”, she continued lightly, “but for what we need currently I recon the seedy establishment over there might be a better choice.” The comment was complimented by a sharp nod in the direction of the Rusty Rogue.

The Downport had two serious flaws. The holograms proudly presenting the bustling sea life that were an uncomfortable reminder that they are currently below the rolling waves and the mixing smells coming out from various establishments. Sure, the ventilation was working just fine, but for the corsair the air was still a little suffocating. Eirene slightly raised aviator sunglasses that up until that moment she used as a disguise of sorts then glanced around the place with raised eyebrows and an unimpressed expression. A giant fish visible on one of the screens caught her attention. It stared at her. She stared back. The creature puffed itself, clearly trying to make itself bigger and more threatening. Eirene sighed, decided that staring contest with what was basically an element of an interior design was beneath her, and lowered her sunglasses down. She side-eyed Urien who clearly had some ideas regarding bagged soup. “Would not recommend that”, she drawled, “you have a nice Steward on-board, try to get friendly. It does wonders to the personal menu.” She sighed and decided to take the leadership. Gods help us, she thought with autoirony, I might be the most diplomatic here. “Where to? I’d propose some club or a tavern. One with a more, uh, diverse, crowd.”

Eirene looked up from her console. "The recruiters said I can have either swasbuckling spirit or a working eye and a whole hand. I decided to haggle, they tried to sweeten the deal by adding a cussing parrot and I had to politely decline. As it happens pet birds annoy me even more than big masses of cold water." It was stated in a dead serious tone and with a straight face but her eyes glinted ironically.  "That said, I am still adventorous enough to try to learn something from Torpol's criminal underground. Someone can tag along", she side-eyed the gathered, "-as long as they know when not to antagonize people", she murmured under her breath and took another sip of her brew with a frown. She could swear that during her career she heard something about the place that could be useful in her planned dealings and so she was racking her brain to remember even a tiny piece of information that would give her upper hand.  

The journey, as far as Eirene’s experiences went, was dreadfully uneventful. The ship proved to have a stern and reliable construction, even if occasional whizzing and rattling annoyed her. After the first 3 days, few near falls, and gaining two new scratches she learnt to pay attention to the floor and the four-legged haughty trespasser (as well as the bloody cleaning droid). That led to slight resentment towards the machine and a talk with the good doctor who, after the second Astrid incident, was kind to inform her about the existence of a “cat scratch disease“ and was met with a blank stare from the unamused corsair. The rest of the trip was equally boring. She managed not to get into any fights with Urien – mainly due to the avoidance tactics (and the fact that the furball thankfully hasn't developed the ability to speak and repine). She was caught yet again scouting the pantry, came out of the encounter unscratched and with confused realisation that Lindsey was serious about leaving things for her – and clearly it was a point of professional pride for the steward to leave things that were to her taste too - her current drink was a proof of that. Eirene solemnly promised herself that the good will won’t be forgotten nor taken for granted. She had a hunch the woman won't turn her nose up at the bottle of quality alcohol - or any quality good for that matter. The Zhodani looked like a decent and quiet fellow who probably didn’t look into her head… too much... and the ensign didn’t decide to press for details regarding her business dealings in the Drinax cluster. Life, Eirene decided begrudgingly, was for the moment on the right course. She reclined in her chair, glanced at one of the many screens that cluttered her station on the bridge and grimaced slightly upon seeing masses of water that covered the planet. The corsair reached blindly for the cup and lifted it to her lips, the other hand pressed lightly to the receiver she had in her ear. She listened with a furrowed brow while sipping on her creamy drink. “I’d say we may safely assume that it’s the Highport that was hit”, she drawled lazily, “and they really don’t want anyone to see the extent of damages.” She had a momentarily idea of trying to sneak close to the place and dismissed the thought as quickly as it came to her. Waste of time. Risky one at that. She turned to Mahan. “I’d try to land in the Downport, boss. And we should decide how to proceed from there. I’d advise splitting up since we don't have infinite timeon our disposal.” She was still unsure about his attitude towards authority, chain of command nor cheeky companions and so there was question in her eyes - how did he wish to proceed?  

Eirene froze and cursed under her breath. She didn’t hear anyone coming. “Well, this is unfortunate…” She turned around with her hands raised in a placative gesture only to be met with a rather cold gaze of the steward. She asked herself what she had done in her previous life to deserve such bad luck. Animal abuse? Sacrilege? Tax evasion? Probably the last one, she decided before realising that the lingering silence is awkward at best and rude at worst. “Look”, she started slowly, “if I stayed there any longer I would have to kill someone. It would either be your compatriot or myself. He’s been getting on my nerves since he boarded this ship and it seems I was the only one who wasn’t allowed to eat anything before the meeting with the king. I am easily irritable in such events. In short - yes, I would appreciate a meal.” She pinched the bridge of her nose then looked sideways and shuffled her feet uncomfortably. “Understood. Apologies? But it may be a regular thing.” She glanced in the direction of the exit. Blocked. Blocked by the very person who was staring her down. “It’s not malicious, it’s not to spite you, I just sometimes need my bloody cocoa to sleep.” The situation was potentially explosive and required evac, asap. She edged closer to the door and started calculating the distance between the frame and Lindsey’s shoulder. She tried to smile disarmingly. “So I am asking for understanding while you trip over me at weirdly late hours while I regretfully pilfer your pantry?” Doable, Eirene decided, then dashed in the direction of the door and squeezed between the door frame and the steward. “Can we discuss it further in a place that isn't full of potentially dangerous kitchen utensils?”, she choked out with a wry smile then quickly retreated towards the bridge. In a hurry she caught the last of Mahan’s words but not their sense. “The corsair? What did I do this time?” She crossed the bridge quickly and leaned on the console once more. “And I would advise Torpol, yes. There’s something we weren’t told about the situation there. Call it a gut feeling. ”

The crunching of the weird sauerkraut-like thing was beginning to get on Eirene's nerves. She raised her eyes to the ceiling and started counting to ten. Then back to one. It was all in vain. The innocent victim of the diplomatic protocol and unhealthy habits of her companions huffed, then decided to speed up things a little before she did something drastic.  "I vote for the ensign, but stay away from all small aircraft - it's mine." With that, she stuffed hands into her pockets and tried to storm off. The decision unfortunately brought her on a collision course with Astrid. Eirene managed to sidestep her at the last moment but the creature still meowed with indignation. She cringed internally. Last thing she needed was a small war over stepping on cat's tail. As she stopped near the entrance to what seemed like a kitchen, Eirene decided that her immediate nefarious plans would need slight alteration. A cursory and wary glances showed a clear perimeter. For starters, the corsair mused while skulking through the place, she would need to devise a plan to raid the pantry at night. To achieve that, some preliminary scouting was required. It was entirely possible that during the night, sometime between finding meat in the fridge and discovering tea in the cupboard she would also devise a plan to dismantle those huge jewelled doors from the palace. The corner of Eirene's mouth twitched upwards at the thought. Just to show that taking them was possible in the first place, of course.

„My imagination is already running wild so for the sake of my suspicious nature I will assume then that Torpol has a valid reason to be the more generous of the too”, she commented with a furrowed brow and a sardonic twist of her lips. “Greetings”, she managed before making a rather desperate attempt at dodging the scan. “Keep needles far from me and we’re golden”, she warned offhandedly. ‘Food later’, she nearly groaned upon hearing it. “Clearly you lot were allowed to eat your breakfast”, she grumbled under her breath and leaned on the console again with a resigned expression. “Well, elect then. Flip a coin if needed.”

Both worlds, at least theoretically, wanted more or less the same from them. Torpol's deal however, sounded too good to be true in comparison with the bounty announced by Clarke. Friendly world with more recent leads, paying more and not caring whether perpetrators were brought alive or not…. a little suspicious. Eirene had a nagging feeling some important detail was withheld from them. " 'Struck by a raiding party' is not telling us much, Majesty", she drawled. "How were they struck? How were those worlds damaged? Is it just financial, or were people killed and taken too? I assume that either Clarke is both stingy with money and has a government full of goody-goody politicians, or that Torpol suffered considerably more. Which is it then?" She leaned on the console with her arms loosely crossed over her chest and seemingly disinterested expression. However, she did observe the Princess carefully out of the corner of her eye.  

Eirene clicked her tongue with a mocking disappointment. “Now, now, friend, don’t be too greedy, it doesn’t bode well for further business dealings. That’s just money extortion and that always leaves a bad taste in my mouth.” The smile she threw Rachando’s way was wry. “Additional 25% to the base price”, she stated clearly after a moment of silence and leaned closer. “Plus a useful contact in the underworld, in case you acquired goods that were… misplaced”, she added in a low murmur. “We all acquire something like that at some point and despair over not being able to profit from it.” She straightened up, the smile turning insolent as she observed the merchant with narrowed eyes. Business concluded, Eirene turned on her heel in one smooth movement and walked towards the crew quarters without looking back at anyone – strides long, hands stuffed in pockets, somehow managing to take entirely too much space for someone her stature. She reached her quarter, pushed the button responsible for opening the door and entered the room. It closed behind Eirene with a hiss and only then she allowed her mask and mannerisms to slip. She released a breath and pressed the palms of her hands to her face for a moment, then leaned on the wall and tilted her head back to rest it against its cold surface and raised unseeing eyes towards the ceiling. Familiar humming of a moving spaceship was what finally brought the corsair back to the reality. Somehow, the scheme worked. This time she even had the letter of marque. She also had a ship that could use some paint job, mistrustful companions and no clear chain of command – so that was precisely as usual. She sighed and realised that sometime during her reveries she ended up on the floor. She raised stiffly from her spot then emptied her pockets out of snacks that mysteriously appeared there after the short trip in a limousine. Next step was to retrieve the stealth dagger and her pistol from her baggage – Eirene pocketed the former and holstered the latter with a relief, the made sure that the jacket sufficiently concealed the shape of the gun (she was sure that the very next clash between her and her companions would be due to that particular habit). Unpacking the rest of her meagre possessions could wait for now. Satisfied, she decided to check the bridge once more – whether to be useful or just to acquaintance herself with its layout remained to be seen… until upon entering it she realised her companions focused on an incoming call. The pitch of pinging was becoming higher and louder. “No need for guessing games, whoever it is they can’t choke you via holographic transmission, you’re safe to take it”, she informed them drily and flicked the ‘receive call’ button.

She looked Lindsey in the eye, the grin still firmly in place. „This whole endeavour is amusing. I could elaborate, but I don’t expect you’d be pleased with my answer”, she replied smoothly and yet again turned her attention towards the console. If she were to say what’s on her mind she wouldn’t achieve anything besides antagonizing them further. What's so amusing... for starters, she mused eyes set firmly on the blinking screen, the chip on the shoulder half of you seems to have. The prejudices and stereotypes of people here – that was another one. The fact that all of them were just employed to become glorified pirates and yet they seemed to hold Eirene’s profession against her. The irony there warranted a good smirk, she decided, especially if it was bothering the rest. She fiddled with the controls. Shame about the ensign. That one was probably roped into the scheme without warning, to keep an eye on the shady company. And the ship. She could wager it was mostly about the ship. The console buzzed and finally responded. She hummed with satisfaction and patted it with mock affection. She would have to decide her course of action soon. If the attitude continued despite her not causing troubles she would render unto Oleb the things that are Oleb’s and pocket the rest. Despite expectations, she didn’t plan anything nefarious. Yet. She smiled. ‘Yet’ was probably the keyword for 95% of the people who interacted with her. And if no one expected anything good… was there even a point of proving them wrong? She ran a hand through her hair ignoring the bustling of the merchants and her companions, then pushed few buttons until the command window appeared. An ethical problem to discuss in a different place, different time, and probably by a different Eirene, she decided and huffed again. Duchess Eirene, for example. Or at least a very wealthy and retired Eirene. Before that could happen though, there were things that she needed to acquire. Her eyes darted from the computer to the Bwap, then to their staff, looking for someone that maybe, possibly was more susceptible to persuasion, and finally she came to a decision. She straightened, cracked her fingers, and moved from her spot with a swagger.  “Friend, I need an improved mobile comm, a rechargeable flashlight, and four aerosol grenades. That’ll be Cr220 and for that I have cash. Now comes the uncomfortable part. Any further business dealings with me today require buying on tick”, she smiled good-naturedly and raised an eyebrow at the merchant. “Say, I order today, pay when we land next time and add something extra for your troubles. Or you say no. Understandable. Hurts my delicate feelings and your future wallet, but it’s nothing we can’t move on from.” Sharp eyes observed the trader carefully. “Before you point out something obvious - I am touched by the offer of lending money but those usually come with an interest, and no one specified its nature.” She looked at Mahan over her shoulder. “I’m sure you’ve something in mind already.” Additional shopping list   Weapons and mods Static blade 900 Gauss rifle 1500 Magazines x5 400 Stun grenade x5 150 Frag grenade x5 150 P-HUD (holographic) 2500 additional module for it 250 smart tracker 500 Armour Smart fabric 1000 Computer weave (advanced) 1000 Minefield boots 250 Equipment Bug (audiovisual data) 300 Portable computer/3 1000 Data display/recorder 500 data wafer 5 Electronic binoculars advanced 750 Radio jammer 500 Bug sweeper 100 Advanced safe 600 Infinite rope 1000     SUM Cr 13 355