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Recorder on.
The view is of a massive room, a library. Many of the titles are rare and in pristine condition, the collection of an ancient noble family. Repentence looks at the camera thoughtfully, elaborate red tattoos looping over her features.
Funny how long it is since I used one of these. Not since leaving Morwen...
God, I was a mess then. A total headcase, not knowing if I was coming or going. Stuck with the Cartel, confused and lost.
Now... I've got everything I could wish for. I've got my family estates back. I'm running them. I've got a little slice of paradise, on Khanid Prime no less. The place where I grew up. I'm surrounded by people I care for and that care for me. Morwen keeps me company, she's even funded a reactivation of my license. Flying an Apocalypse and burning down the enemies of the Kingdom...
Perfect life, no?
So why am I sinking downward?
Charity.
Charity, Math'ra... Vince... and more. Cruoris' idea of entertainment. The things she'd go out to do during her alone time.
And the things I still want to do. I'm 'cured', no more clinical insanity, no more split personality. I'm just left with borderline psychopathic urges and... the memories.
I haven't acted on them - beyond the rituals with Morwen, those help. The urges or the memories... The raw will I needed to pull the shattered bits of my mind back together also helps. So I just draw.
She's asked about them once or twice, but... it's my only outlet. Since Masque has vanished, along with my brother and the rest of his crew...
She smirks.
Mind you, Elysa would kill me for calling her one of his.
The smile fades.
I wish I knew what happened to them.
I wish I could just... stop remembering.
A slightly built young woman with a vaguely Gallentean appearance appears in view. She makes a rapid series of gestures.
I'll be right there.
She stares at the camera for a while, then switches it off.
Recorder off.
Friday, 25 November 2011
Tuesday, 9 November 2010
Repentence: Splinters of my Soul
Recorder on.
The view is of a comfortable room, possibly on a carrier judging by the size. Repentence is evidently packing to leave.
I feel sick.
I hate myself. I want to hate myself. Yet... somehow... I can't, for the same reason why I want to.
She scowls bitterly.
Because I'm... happy.
She spits the word.
There's been a tension in my mind that's been there for so long that I didn't even realise it was there. I feel like I've been banging my head against a brick wall for months without knowing, and suddenly, I've stopped, and accursed relief is flooding my body. All because I've hurt some in a place they've already been crippled in.
I look around this place, knowing that I might never see it again, that I might never sleep in that bed, curl up by the fire... and all I can think about is the fact that for the first time ever, the tension is gone. That all three of me are content with each other, not arguing, not disagreeing, not disapproving. I almost feel normal. Then someone pipes up with a remark, or they squabble over nothing, and I'm reminded that I'm not.
I guess... I hope... Morwen will get over it. She got over Lilly, she can get over me.
Funny to think that I haven't been single since Inara invited me to look around her carrier back in Tzvi. And now I am... and part of me aches for company, and the rest just wants to crawl into a dark spot and be glad of being alone.
It's not like I've got many choices for who to go out with. Sure as hell not going back to Inara, not after what she said last time. I don't give a fuck what she thinks. I'm not hers, not any more. She's not even an Angel. She can say what she likes, she's a fucking Rabbit, the fact that she's staying as one instead of coming back to Naraka proves it.
She broods for a moment, and vanishes from view. She returns shortly afterwards with an armful of assorted knives. She pauses, holding one up, and smiles bitterly.
You know, I really thought I was different. Mother, father, Charity, Purity, Mortis - all of them showed me time and again that they could only be happy if someone else was suffering. I thought I'd escaped that, that I wasn't one of them, that I could be just a harmless, happy little girl.
I guess blood always tells.
I don't know what I'll do now. Part of me just wants to leave. Leave everything, sever ties, go join the Nation or Electus Matari, something radical, clean slate, fresh start. But I know that's dumb. Even if the Cartel didn't have their claws dug deeper into me than would be easy to extricate myself from, it's a small universe. It wouldn't be an escape, not really.
I look back on the naive little girl that I once was, and... I don't know whether to pity or envy her.
Life sucks sometimes.
All I know is that if I'd been kicked out of the academy, gone crawling back home and begged for forgiveness... I'd probably have been happier.
Who says being a demigod is fun and games?
It's ruined my life, and not just mine.
She looks away for a moment, then takes one of the knives and carefully slices into her palm, before placing the bloody weapon on the bedside table. She looks at it for a time, then sighs and reaches out to turn off the camera.
Oh, Ash, send a request to blank my security clearance here, will you? And blank the security feed, Morwen doesn't need to hear me ranting. And... take care of her, won't you?
Recorder off.
The view is of a comfortable room, possibly on a carrier judging by the size. Repentence is evidently packing to leave.
I feel sick.
I hate myself. I want to hate myself. Yet... somehow... I can't, for the same reason why I want to.
She scowls bitterly.
Because I'm... happy.
She spits the word.
There's been a tension in my mind that's been there for so long that I didn't even realise it was there. I feel like I've been banging my head against a brick wall for months without knowing, and suddenly, I've stopped, and accursed relief is flooding my body. All because I've hurt some in a place they've already been crippled in.
I look around this place, knowing that I might never see it again, that I might never sleep in that bed, curl up by the fire... and all I can think about is the fact that for the first time ever, the tension is gone. That all three of me are content with each other, not arguing, not disagreeing, not disapproving. I almost feel normal. Then someone pipes up with a remark, or they squabble over nothing, and I'm reminded that I'm not.
I guess... I hope... Morwen will get over it. She got over Lilly, she can get over me.
Funny to think that I haven't been single since Inara invited me to look around her carrier back in Tzvi. And now I am... and part of me aches for company, and the rest just wants to crawl into a dark spot and be glad of being alone.
It's not like I've got many choices for who to go out with. Sure as hell not going back to Inara, not after what she said last time. I don't give a fuck what she thinks. I'm not hers, not any more. She's not even an Angel. She can say what she likes, she's a fucking Rabbit, the fact that she's staying as one instead of coming back to Naraka proves it.
She broods for a moment, and vanishes from view. She returns shortly afterwards with an armful of assorted knives. She pauses, holding one up, and smiles bitterly.
You know, I really thought I was different. Mother, father, Charity, Purity, Mortis - all of them showed me time and again that they could only be happy if someone else was suffering. I thought I'd escaped that, that I wasn't one of them, that I could be just a harmless, happy little girl.
I guess blood always tells.
I don't know what I'll do now. Part of me just wants to leave. Leave everything, sever ties, go join the Nation or Electus Matari, something radical, clean slate, fresh start. But I know that's dumb. Even if the Cartel didn't have their claws dug deeper into me than would be easy to extricate myself from, it's a small universe. It wouldn't be an escape, not really.
I look back on the naive little girl that I once was, and... I don't know whether to pity or envy her.
Life sucks sometimes.
All I know is that if I'd been kicked out of the academy, gone crawling back home and begged for forgiveness... I'd probably have been happier.
Who says being a demigod is fun and games?
It's ruined my life, and not just mine.
She looks away for a moment, then takes one of the knives and carefully slices into her palm, before placing the bloody weapon on the bedside table. She looks at it for a time, then sighs and reaches out to turn off the camera.
Oh, Ash, send a request to blank my security clearance here, will you? And blank the security feed, Morwen doesn't need to hear me ranting. And... take care of her, won't you?
Recorder off.
Sunday, 24 October 2010
Repentence: Spiralling
Recorder on.
The view is of a large, comfortable cabin that seems a bizarre mix of cultures. The original design was clearly Matari, but much of that has been replaced by a blend of clean, Civire utilitarian lines and smooth, yet slightly stark, Khanid designs. The view through the window is of a dockyard, and just visible are the razored wings of the ship itself, a Hurricane.
Repentence is slumped on the bed, staring at the ceiling, her nano-tattoos dormant and switched off.
I can't go on like this.
I haven't made an entry for a while. Didn't seem any point. My worries were either things I could tell Morwen, or that I had to hide from Cru or Ser. Now neither apply.
Inara asked me to go see her last night. Cru confessed what we'd done after Morwen went to see Lilly. I know I should feel guilty, but all I feel is hollow. I didn't even protest when Cru took us in there.
I almost wish Serenity was still the problem. She rarely even speaks a word to us now. Just takes the time we allocate her and goes to do whatever it is she wants. Kept secret, of course, but Ash says that it's nothing. Not even anything much productive. At least when she was an unrelenting bitch, I could run on anger, keep going through that. Now... my feelings are draining into nothingness.
But Inara and Cru talked for a bit... not hiding it from me, for a change. And then Inara asked to talk to me, and asked me when I was coming home. No suggestion, no question about if. She was absolutely certain I would. Looking back on it, Ser says that maybe she was just putting on an act to see how I'd react. I guess, as a consummate liar and actor herself, Ser would know.
I fled. What could I do? I told her that I wasn't going back to her. I asked her if she still loved me, and she... she said she did. Which I guess I knew, but the way she said it... it freaked me out.
She asked me who I'd go to for guidance, if not her. Said that I was too fractured, too disjointed to run my own life, and she's right. She laughed at the idea that Morwen could provide that, and... she was right again. Morwen tries. She's sweet and kind and patient, but... that's not enough. I don't know what is.
I told her that I'd go to Elysa, just for an answer. Said that I didn't need a mistress, didn't need a lover, didn't need anything but a firm hand, and Elysa's kicked me up the rear more than a few times. I was clawing for answers... and now I wonder if that's really true. That I don't need love, not now. If it's just one more complication in a life already too damn complicated.
It's getting harder and harder to feel anything. I look at Morwen, and I find it hard to see more than a friend. A close friend who I'd hate to lose, but... I can't live up to what she puts on me. She keeps naming ships after me... not to mention the feeling that I could clap my hands and she'd do anything I asked if it made me happy. Cru used to love that, but even she's beginning to find it awkward.
I wonder if this is how Mortis felt, when he lost his emotions? Everything just becoming dull?
She sits up, head in her hands.
Cru's no help. She's going through her own existential crisis, and I find it hard not to just yell at her that yes, she doesn't exist, she's just a broken bit of me. And Serenity says and does nothing, just leeching away my energy by her mere existence.
I'll have to go back to the carrier soon. Cru told Morwen that she didn't want to talk last night, after visiting Inara, but we'll have to talk eventually, and when we do...
I've often told her that I don't deserve her. I'm beginning to wonder what she did in a past life to deserve me. And Lilly before me, and Nacittal before that... she's like love's punching bag, each new relationship destructive in its own way.
I'll try and hold off talking about it. I think I've got another appointment with Dr Akell tomorrow. Maybe she'll help, though I'm not holding my breath.
The more I look back on it, the more I begin to wish I'd never become a capsuleer, that I'd never left the homeworld. Sure there have been good times... but has it been worth the pain and suffering?
Like fuck it has.
She says nothing for some minutes, then reaches out for the camera.
Recorder off.
The view is of a large, comfortable cabin that seems a bizarre mix of cultures. The original design was clearly Matari, but much of that has been replaced by a blend of clean, Civire utilitarian lines and smooth, yet slightly stark, Khanid designs. The view through the window is of a dockyard, and just visible are the razored wings of the ship itself, a Hurricane.
Repentence is slumped on the bed, staring at the ceiling, her nano-tattoos dormant and switched off.
I can't go on like this.
I haven't made an entry for a while. Didn't seem any point. My worries were either things I could tell Morwen, or that I had to hide from Cru or Ser. Now neither apply.
Inara asked me to go see her last night. Cru confessed what we'd done after Morwen went to see Lilly. I know I should feel guilty, but all I feel is hollow. I didn't even protest when Cru took us in there.
I almost wish Serenity was still the problem. She rarely even speaks a word to us now. Just takes the time we allocate her and goes to do whatever it is she wants. Kept secret, of course, but Ash says that it's nothing. Not even anything much productive. At least when she was an unrelenting bitch, I could run on anger, keep going through that. Now... my feelings are draining into nothingness.
But Inara and Cru talked for a bit... not hiding it from me, for a change. And then Inara asked to talk to me, and asked me when I was coming home. No suggestion, no question about if. She was absolutely certain I would. Looking back on it, Ser says that maybe she was just putting on an act to see how I'd react. I guess, as a consummate liar and actor herself, Ser would know.
I fled. What could I do? I told her that I wasn't going back to her. I asked her if she still loved me, and she... she said she did. Which I guess I knew, but the way she said it... it freaked me out.
She asked me who I'd go to for guidance, if not her. Said that I was too fractured, too disjointed to run my own life, and she's right. She laughed at the idea that Morwen could provide that, and... she was right again. Morwen tries. She's sweet and kind and patient, but... that's not enough. I don't know what is.
I told her that I'd go to Elysa, just for an answer. Said that I didn't need a mistress, didn't need a lover, didn't need anything but a firm hand, and Elysa's kicked me up the rear more than a few times. I was clawing for answers... and now I wonder if that's really true. That I don't need love, not now. If it's just one more complication in a life already too damn complicated.
It's getting harder and harder to feel anything. I look at Morwen, and I find it hard to see more than a friend. A close friend who I'd hate to lose, but... I can't live up to what she puts on me. She keeps naming ships after me... not to mention the feeling that I could clap my hands and she'd do anything I asked if it made me happy. Cru used to love that, but even she's beginning to find it awkward.
I wonder if this is how Mortis felt, when he lost his emotions? Everything just becoming dull?
She sits up, head in her hands.
Cru's no help. She's going through her own existential crisis, and I find it hard not to just yell at her that yes, she doesn't exist, she's just a broken bit of me. And Serenity says and does nothing, just leeching away my energy by her mere existence.
I'll have to go back to the carrier soon. Cru told Morwen that she didn't want to talk last night, after visiting Inara, but we'll have to talk eventually, and when we do...
I've often told her that I don't deserve her. I'm beginning to wonder what she did in a past life to deserve me. And Lilly before me, and Nacittal before that... she's like love's punching bag, each new relationship destructive in its own way.
I'll try and hold off talking about it. I think I've got another appointment with Dr Akell tomorrow. Maybe she'll help, though I'm not holding my breath.
The more I look back on it, the more I begin to wish I'd never become a capsuleer, that I'd never left the homeworld. Sure there have been good times... but has it been worth the pain and suffering?
Like fuck it has.
She says nothing for some minutes, then reaches out for the camera.
Recorder off.
Tuesday, 21 September 2010
Repentence: Disjointed
System Encryption Code Zeta Active. Data storage at 29%. Observation mode active. Currently active personality: Repentence. Nanotattoo matrix operational, current mode: debating.
You lied to us.
You chose to interpret my actions falsely. Don't blame me for your stupidity.
You lied to her, then.
And you haven't, my dear little bloodhound? You've been keeping things from all of us.
She's right.
That's my right, so shut the fuck up. Ash knows what was said, and she doesn't think it's important.
Oh yes, and she's wonderfully impartial. Aren't you, you AI bitch?
I'll choose to ignore that.
Don't you dare accuse me of being dishonest. We've all lied. We've all broken the rules. Even you, Repentence, so don't play the injured innocent. You lured that dock worker for us, and you enjoyed every moment.
...did not!
You can't lie to your own mind, stupid brat.
Even if I did, I'm not doing it again. You saw the look on Mor-
Morwen, Morwen, Morwen! Is there anything else in that tiny little mind of yours other than that stupid, gullible Intaki slut?
TAKE THAT BACK!
Make me.
Shut up, both of you. Can't you feel that headache?
And you're no better, Cruoris. You like to play the big bad Sani Sabik, but you're really under her thumb, just like Repentence. Don't want to risk upsetting her. Playing along, growling only when it doesn't matter.
You mechanised whore, I'll-
You'll what. Hurt me? How scary. You've got nothing on me. Just your silly impulsive anger. You know it's true.
"Reppy? Are you all right?"
Eyes open. Analysing image - average height Intaki woman, concerned expression. Nanotattoo changing modes to 'Repentence'.
"I'm fine. Why?"
"You've been a bit... quiet."
"I'm fine. Really. What were you saying?"
Time lapse. Notable events: switch of active personality to Serenity. Nanotattoo functioning at 96% success rate. Two games of Kalta played, Morwen lost both. Nanotattoo switching to 'debating'.
If I'm just playing along, what was that?
At least I don't cater to her every whim. It makes me sick, what you two do with her.
Hypocrite. You enjoy it just as much as we do.
Physical pleasure is hardly difficult to come by. It does not mean that I have to reflect on the experience with anything other than distaste. If you think otherwise, perhaps I should remind you of the sweet time you had with Vincent Pryce?
Shut the fuck up.
Don't like being reminded that you're an impulsive, retarded little bloodpuppy slut, do you? I'm surprised that the Cruor Infinitem still answers to you. If they knew what you get up to, they'd denounce you and blood you on the spot.
SHUT UP.
So easy to rile. So pathetic. So-
Serenity, please, stop it. You know that this doesn't achieve anything-
The mighty Cruoris can do no wrong, right?
I know that was my fault! I know, I know, I know! But it was YOURS as well! You voted!
Stop feeling smug, Sansha bitch!
I'll be as smug as I like. The look on Morwen's face when you confessed was wonderful.
I'LL-
System malfunction. Psychological reset in progress. Currently active personality: Nessie. Injecting sedatives, taking manual control. Host consciousness lost. Repositioning into sleeping posture. Nanotattoo going into standby. Comment, "I can't complain about this being a boring job."
You lied to us.
You chose to interpret my actions falsely. Don't blame me for your stupidity.
You lied to her, then.
And you haven't, my dear little bloodhound? You've been keeping things from all of us.
She's right.
That's my right, so shut the fuck up. Ash knows what was said, and she doesn't think it's important.
Oh yes, and she's wonderfully impartial. Aren't you, you AI bitch?
I'll choose to ignore that.
Don't you dare accuse me of being dishonest. We've all lied. We've all broken the rules. Even you, Repentence, so don't play the injured innocent. You lured that dock worker for us, and you enjoyed every moment.
...did not!
You can't lie to your own mind, stupid brat.
Even if I did, I'm not doing it again. You saw the look on Mor-
Morwen, Morwen, Morwen! Is there anything else in that tiny little mind of yours other than that stupid, gullible Intaki slut?
TAKE THAT BACK!
Make me.
Shut up, both of you. Can't you feel that headache?
And you're no better, Cruoris. You like to play the big bad Sani Sabik, but you're really under her thumb, just like Repentence. Don't want to risk upsetting her. Playing along, growling only when it doesn't matter.
You mechanised whore, I'll-
You'll what. Hurt me? How scary. You've got nothing on me. Just your silly impulsive anger. You know it's true.
"Reppy? Are you all right?"
Eyes open. Analysing image - average height Intaki woman, concerned expression. Nanotattoo changing modes to 'Repentence'.
"I'm fine. Why?"
"You've been a bit... quiet."
"I'm fine. Really. What were you saying?"
Time lapse. Notable events: switch of active personality to Serenity. Nanotattoo functioning at 96% success rate. Two games of Kalta played, Morwen lost both. Nanotattoo switching to 'debating'.
If I'm just playing along, what was that?
At least I don't cater to her every whim. It makes me sick, what you two do with her.
Hypocrite. You enjoy it just as much as we do.
Physical pleasure is hardly difficult to come by. It does not mean that I have to reflect on the experience with anything other than distaste. If you think otherwise, perhaps I should remind you of the sweet time you had with Vincent Pryce?
Shut the fuck up.
Don't like being reminded that you're an impulsive, retarded little bloodpuppy slut, do you? I'm surprised that the Cruor Infinitem still answers to you. If they knew what you get up to, they'd denounce you and blood you on the spot.
SHUT UP.
So easy to rile. So pathetic. So-
Serenity, please, stop it. You know that this doesn't achieve anything-
The mighty Cruoris can do no wrong, right?
I know that was my fault! I know, I know, I know! But it was YOURS as well! You voted!
Stop feeling smug, Sansha bitch!
I'll be as smug as I like. The look on Morwen's face when you confessed was wonderful.
I'LL-
System malfunction. Psychological reset in progress. Currently active personality: Nessie. Injecting sedatives, taking manual control. Host consciousness lost. Repositioning into sleeping posture. Nanotattoo going into standby. Comment, "I can't complain about this being a boring job."
Saturday, 3 July 2010
Repentence: Bloody Charity
Ashimmu-Raksha cruiser Cruor Infinitem, Khanid borderzone
Interrogation room security camera
Time index 0013, 112.07.03
The camera shows a darkened chamber, with a female figure shackled to a chair, wearing just a few rags. A tall, masked figure stands in the background.
In the foreground stands Repentence, wearing Blood Raider armour and casually spinning a blade in her hands. In the dim light, a network of bloody scars are visible over her features, shaped like tearstreaks. The woman slowly raises her head.
"...sister?"
Repentence's hand flashes out, and there is a ringing slap.
"Don't call me that. You cast me out, and I've got no fucking wish to be associated with you in any way, Charity."
Charity Tyrathlion winces.
"What do you want from me, Repentence?"
"What the fuck do you think I want? And don't call me that, either. You can call me Mistress..."
Repentence pauses, and mutters to herself for a few moments, before shaking it off and continuing, her voice a little less steady. "You're scum that doesn't deserve to say my name. And you don't deserve to have a name at all. From now on, your name is Fluffy. You know why you're here. And I know you're a pathological liar, Fluffy, so for each lie you tell me, I'll make you bleed."
Charity cowers slightly, but says nothing.
"Why are you here, Fluffy?"
"Because... you've finally gone completely insane and want to lash out at someone?"
The knife flashes out. Blood spurts from the shallow gash on Charity's arm, and she squirms, squeezing her eyes shut.
"Cute, Fluffy, and I suppose there's an a element of truth to that. But not what I'm after. Why are you here, Fluffy?"
"I... I was mean to you?"
The knife flashes again, leaving a shallow cut over the older woman's shoulder. "You dodge the fucking question again, Fluffy, and you'll suffer for it. What did you do to me? Not so long ago? What did you do that means you're no sister of mine?"
"You... you refused to come home..."
"LIAR!"
The blade lashes out once, twice, three times, leaving another trail of red each time. Abruptly Repentence's stance changes, losing its wild aggression and becoming cool, dispassionate, her voice likewise subtly altering.
"Perhaps we need to try a different tack. You know about pain, sister. You've suffered before. And you'll suffer more before the day is out, but I'm not going to break you this way. Last chance. Confess."
Charity stares. "You really are insane, aren't you? Repentence... please... we're not friends, but these are Blood Raiders..."
"Wrong answer."
She changes again, returning to her more feral countenance. "You never did get a-"
Change. Now she looks nervous, scared even, desperate. "Charity... just tell them what they want... please..."
Change. She shakes her head, clutching her forehead with a hand for a moment, then glowers at the tall, silent figure. "What the fuck are you looking at, Seth? Make yourself useful. Screw this useless freak's brains out. Probably her first time, but don't feel the need to be gentle."
The figure moves towards the squirming Charity...
Error - Data corruption. Accessing next file. Time index 0116, 112.07.03
Charity is curled up in a sobbing wreck in the corner, naked, filthy and covered in bruises. The tall figure has left, while Repentence watches disdainfully.
"If only all those poor idiots you lead around by the nose could see you now. Perhaps I'll make a copy of some of the holocam footage and publish it. What do you think? Fluffy? LOOK AT ME."
Repentence pulls Charity to her feet, pushing her against the wall. "Look at me."
Charity slowly does so.
"Why are you here, Fluffy?"
"I... I... tried to have you killed..."
Repentence pats her on the head, and she flinches violently. "Good little whore. That I knew. Really wasn't hard to figure out when I put the pieces together. You can pull stunts on most people, but not me. I know you too well, Fluffy. But you're not the type to do the dirty work. Why did you do it, and who did you sucker in to do it for you?"
"Wh-why? Are..." Charity chokes down another sob. "Are you going to go after them?"
"Fluffy?" The knife stabs into Charity's arm, and she howls. "One, you don't get to ask me questions." The knife is yanked out, and then hammers in again. "Two, you didn't call me 'Mistress'." It is withdrawn a third time, and then spikes clean through Charity's hand. "And three, you don't have the luxury of not answering my questions directly. Why did you do it, and who did it for you?"
Blood streams from the wounds, but clots abnormally quickly. Charity breathes hard, fighting down another wail of pain, then speaks hurriedly. "You... you were an embarassment... Mistress... you were ruining our name... I had to have you purified or eliminated... nothing personal... just politics..."
Change. Repentence turns away and releases her sister, letting Charity slide to the floor, and paces a little. "Ah yes. You and your politics. You loved your little games, always did. So I was in your way, which would mean... you sold me out to the inquisition. Or tried to. Evidently it didn't work out. Why?"
"I don't know, Mistress."
"I wouldn't try Cruoris' patience, sister."
Charity's eyes are confused, but she evidently doesn't dare ask for explanation. "I'm telling the truth... my contact didn't tell me anything after he took her away..."
"I suppose you wanted to keep your hands as clean as possible. Who was your contact? Which inquisitor did you bully?"
"A... a capsuleer. His name was... Math'ra. Math'ra Hiede."
Silence for a time.
Change.
"So that's why he's been so nice to me. He was feeling guilty. He must have realised you were screwing him around, and decided to not carry out his end. How sweet. Well. I guess that's it. Thank you, Fluffy." She leans down with a horrible smile. "So what do I do with you? Maybe I should just keep you as entertainment for Seth. You're kinda useless now. Only cloned blood is any good to them, y'know."
"No... no... please, don't..." Charity curls up tighter, whimpering. "Let me go..."
"Just like that? No. I'm done with you. You'll be ship's dog. Even the slaves on here will be able to do what the fuck they like with you. How's that sound? I'll even find you a collar."
"Sister... please..."
"Do not fucking call me that!" The blade lashes out, cutting a ragged line over Charity's stomach, which again clots fast.
Charity bites her lip, but holds in the scream, tears rolling down her cheeks. "If... if I can tell you something... you... you want revenge, right? Mistress? I... I know someone else... something you told me... the other you, the one that came home..."
Repentence pauses. "Who?"
"He... he nearly took your lover, the Achura, away... you left because you no longer trusted her... because she didn't protect you while he nearly killed you..."
"Who?"
"A Gallente... Pryce... Vincent Pryce..."
There is a very long silence.
"Thank you, Fluffy."
"You... you said you'd let me go..."
Repentence sighs. "I suppose I did. Of course, I didn't specify how." She slides the knife she's been using into her belt. "You two. String her up and let her bleed."
Two Blooders slink into view, pulling Charity upright, clipping her shackles to the ceiling, leaving the Khanid woman dangling. She struggles, begging wordlessly, then a knife slashes shallowly across her throat. Blood spurts, then begins flowing freely down over her body.
Repentence watches in silence. As Charity's twitching stops, she sighs gently. "Goodbye, sister."
File ends.
Interrogation room security camera
Time index 0013, 112.07.03
The camera shows a darkened chamber, with a female figure shackled to a chair, wearing just a few rags. A tall, masked figure stands in the background.
In the foreground stands Repentence, wearing Blood Raider armour and casually spinning a blade in her hands. In the dim light, a network of bloody scars are visible over her features, shaped like tearstreaks. The woman slowly raises her head.
"...sister?"
Repentence's hand flashes out, and there is a ringing slap.
"Don't call me that. You cast me out, and I've got no fucking wish to be associated with you in any way, Charity."
Charity Tyrathlion winces.
"What do you want from me, Repentence?"
"What the fuck do you think I want? And don't call me that, either. You can call me Mistress..."
Repentence pauses, and mutters to herself for a few moments, before shaking it off and continuing, her voice a little less steady. "You're scum that doesn't deserve to say my name. And you don't deserve to have a name at all. From now on, your name is Fluffy. You know why you're here. And I know you're a pathological liar, Fluffy, so for each lie you tell me, I'll make you bleed."
Charity cowers slightly, but says nothing.
"Why are you here, Fluffy?"
"Because... you've finally gone completely insane and want to lash out at someone?"
The knife flashes out. Blood spurts from the shallow gash on Charity's arm, and she squirms, squeezing her eyes shut.
"Cute, Fluffy, and I suppose there's an a element of truth to that. But not what I'm after. Why are you here, Fluffy?"
"I... I was mean to you?"
The knife flashes again, leaving a shallow cut over the older woman's shoulder. "You dodge the fucking question again, Fluffy, and you'll suffer for it. What did you do to me? Not so long ago? What did you do that means you're no sister of mine?"
"You... you refused to come home..."
"LIAR!"
The blade lashes out once, twice, three times, leaving another trail of red each time. Abruptly Repentence's stance changes, losing its wild aggression and becoming cool, dispassionate, her voice likewise subtly altering.
"Perhaps we need to try a different tack. You know about pain, sister. You've suffered before. And you'll suffer more before the day is out, but I'm not going to break you this way. Last chance. Confess."
Charity stares. "You really are insane, aren't you? Repentence... please... we're not friends, but these are Blood Raiders..."
"Wrong answer."
She changes again, returning to her more feral countenance. "You never did get a-"
Change. Now she looks nervous, scared even, desperate. "Charity... just tell them what they want... please..."
Change. She shakes her head, clutching her forehead with a hand for a moment, then glowers at the tall, silent figure. "What the fuck are you looking at, Seth? Make yourself useful. Screw this useless freak's brains out. Probably her first time, but don't feel the need to be gentle."
The figure moves towards the squirming Charity...
Error - Data corruption. Accessing next file. Time index 0116, 112.07.03
Charity is curled up in a sobbing wreck in the corner, naked, filthy and covered in bruises. The tall figure has left, while Repentence watches disdainfully.
"If only all those poor idiots you lead around by the nose could see you now. Perhaps I'll make a copy of some of the holocam footage and publish it. What do you think? Fluffy? LOOK AT ME."
Repentence pulls Charity to her feet, pushing her against the wall. "Look at me."
Charity slowly does so.
"Why are you here, Fluffy?"
"I... I... tried to have you killed..."
Repentence pats her on the head, and she flinches violently. "Good little whore. That I knew. Really wasn't hard to figure out when I put the pieces together. You can pull stunts on most people, but not me. I know you too well, Fluffy. But you're not the type to do the dirty work. Why did you do it, and who did you sucker in to do it for you?"
"Wh-why? Are..." Charity chokes down another sob. "Are you going to go after them?"
"Fluffy?" The knife stabs into Charity's arm, and she howls. "One, you don't get to ask me questions." The knife is yanked out, and then hammers in again. "Two, you didn't call me 'Mistress'." It is withdrawn a third time, and then spikes clean through Charity's hand. "And three, you don't have the luxury of not answering my questions directly. Why did you do it, and who did it for you?"
Blood streams from the wounds, but clots abnormally quickly. Charity breathes hard, fighting down another wail of pain, then speaks hurriedly. "You... you were an embarassment... Mistress... you were ruining our name... I had to have you purified or eliminated... nothing personal... just politics..."
Change. Repentence turns away and releases her sister, letting Charity slide to the floor, and paces a little. "Ah yes. You and your politics. You loved your little games, always did. So I was in your way, which would mean... you sold me out to the inquisition. Or tried to. Evidently it didn't work out. Why?"
"I don't know, Mistress."
"I wouldn't try Cruoris' patience, sister."
Charity's eyes are confused, but she evidently doesn't dare ask for explanation. "I'm telling the truth... my contact didn't tell me anything after he took her away..."
"I suppose you wanted to keep your hands as clean as possible. Who was your contact? Which inquisitor did you bully?"
"A... a capsuleer. His name was... Math'ra. Math'ra Hiede."
Silence for a time.
Change.
"So that's why he's been so nice to me. He was feeling guilty. He must have realised you were screwing him around, and decided to not carry out his end. How sweet. Well. I guess that's it. Thank you, Fluffy." She leans down with a horrible smile. "So what do I do with you? Maybe I should just keep you as entertainment for Seth. You're kinda useless now. Only cloned blood is any good to them, y'know."
"No... no... please, don't..." Charity curls up tighter, whimpering. "Let me go..."
"Just like that? No. I'm done with you. You'll be ship's dog. Even the slaves on here will be able to do what the fuck they like with you. How's that sound? I'll even find you a collar."
"Sister... please..."
"Do not fucking call me that!" The blade lashes out, cutting a ragged line over Charity's stomach, which again clots fast.
Charity bites her lip, but holds in the scream, tears rolling down her cheeks. "If... if I can tell you something... you... you want revenge, right? Mistress? I... I know someone else... something you told me... the other you, the one that came home..."
Repentence pauses. "Who?"
"He... he nearly took your lover, the Achura, away... you left because you no longer trusted her... because she didn't protect you while he nearly killed you..."
"Who?"
"A Gallente... Pryce... Vincent Pryce..."
There is a very long silence.
"Thank you, Fluffy."
"You... you said you'd let me go..."
Repentence sighs. "I suppose I did. Of course, I didn't specify how." She slides the knife she's been using into her belt. "You two. String her up and let her bleed."
Two Blooders slink into view, pulling Charity upright, clipping her shackles to the ceiling, leaving the Khanid woman dangling. She struggles, begging wordlessly, then a knife slashes shallowly across her throat. Blood spurts, then begins flowing freely down over her body.
Repentence watches in silence. As Charity's twitching stops, she sighs gently. "Goodbye, sister."
File ends.
Thursday, 1 July 2010
Interlude: Fear is a Strange Organism
Error - non-capsuleer access to file-
Overridden.
Error - password requi-
Overridden.
Holorecorder act-
Overridden. Accepting direct data input.
The view changes to show what is clearly a virtual environment; no real place could be this bizarre. There is no solid ground, just strange mist that fades the world into nothing. Light flicks through it at random in little balls, and strange shapes form and vanish. In the centre, floating, is a humanoid figure, seemingly a seamless blend of metal and flesh and less definable things. It speaks, in a quiet, feminine voice, with a noticeable Gallente accent.
Joy.
Sarcasm drips from her voice as she gestures at a passing cube, reshaping it into the form of a Tengu, then discarding it.
I have to be the hero. Me. Me, for crying out loud. I am not a hero. Not by any standard. Heroes are fundamentally dumb. It's part of their definition. You have to be stupid to go charging into hostile territory to save two people who, in the fullness of time, will simply be able to softclone out.
And yet... somehow I'm doing it. Sending out messages, organising a team... and trying to work out where the hell Morwen and Repentence are.
Another shape molds itself into a bleeding corpse before vanishing.
They're probably going to die before we can locate them. Not dead yet, apparently, but I doubt that'll last.
I'm not even sure that I care about them. I stay with them because they interest me, but do I genuinely care? Do I really care about anything?
A shape molds into a diminuitive, child-like figure, which sits cross-legged and somehow disapproving.
The question that's been following me since I tried to die.
And you can be quiet.
She pokes the sitting figure, and it explodes into mist.
I suppose I have to care about something, otherwise I might as well just not do anything... and that's just plain dull. Can't even die properly. Who'd have thought that immortality was the cure for apathy?
She laughs quietly, then goes quiet.
I really need to work things out... even if I have to get Ashley to take charge. For now, I'll have to... at least pretend to myself that I care.
I'm a good actor.
You know the thing that really annoys me about this?
The world begins to fade, and her last words are spoken in darkness.
Morwen's first words are going to be 'I told you so'.
Recording complete.
Overridden.
Error - password requi-
Overridden.
Holorecorder act-
Overridden. Accepting direct data input.
The view changes to show what is clearly a virtual environment; no real place could be this bizarre. There is no solid ground, just strange mist that fades the world into nothing. Light flicks through it at random in little balls, and strange shapes form and vanish. In the centre, floating, is a humanoid figure, seemingly a seamless blend of metal and flesh and less definable things. It speaks, in a quiet, feminine voice, with a noticeable Gallente accent.
Joy.
Sarcasm drips from her voice as she gestures at a passing cube, reshaping it into the form of a Tengu, then discarding it.
I have to be the hero. Me. Me, for crying out loud. I am not a hero. Not by any standard. Heroes are fundamentally dumb. It's part of their definition. You have to be stupid to go charging into hostile territory to save two people who, in the fullness of time, will simply be able to softclone out.
And yet... somehow I'm doing it. Sending out messages, organising a team... and trying to work out where the hell Morwen and Repentence are.
Another shape molds itself into a bleeding corpse before vanishing.
They're probably going to die before we can locate them. Not dead yet, apparently, but I doubt that'll last.
I'm not even sure that I care about them. I stay with them because they interest me, but do I genuinely care? Do I really care about anything?
A shape molds into a diminuitive, child-like figure, which sits cross-legged and somehow disapproving.
The question that's been following me since I tried to die.
And you can be quiet.
She pokes the sitting figure, and it explodes into mist.
I suppose I have to care about something, otherwise I might as well just not do anything... and that's just plain dull. Can't even die properly. Who'd have thought that immortality was the cure for apathy?
She laughs quietly, then goes quiet.
I really need to work things out... even if I have to get Ashley to take charge. For now, I'll have to... at least pretend to myself that I care.
I'm a good actor.
You know the thing that really annoys me about this?
The world begins to fade, and her last words are spoken in darkness.
Morwen's first words are going to be 'I told you so'.
Recording complete.
Wednesday, 23 June 2010
Repentence: Fragments
Recorder on.
Repentence sits inside a large, Achura-designed office; Inara's office. She looks drawn, tired and depressed.
I shouldn't have left home.
She gently flops her head back against the chair.
My life is tearing itself apart, and there's not a damn thing I can do. I'm barely in control any more, and yet it's all me. All my doing. I'm driving Morwen out of her mind with worry, and I can't help it.
I don't know who or what I am any more. I feel like, at any moment, I could change. I think back over the past few days, and it's a mess. Stuff I don't remember, abrupt moodswings for no reason... and then there's my drawing.
She looks glumly at a datapad.
I started it to try and help me focus. Masque said focus was good, before she stopped being able to talk to me. Thought I'd draw a picture of Morwen while she was asleep. I know I suck at drawing, so I didn't expect much from it, but I looked at it again just now, and... that's not what I drew. I did not draw this, I couldn't have done, I'd have been aware of it... right?
She seems on the brink of tears.
And sometimes I can feel her lurking. 'I'll be watching', she said. It feels like she could take over any time she likes, and that's fucking scary. All the more so because I'm beginning to remember what it's like when she does. A spectator in my own body, and there's nothing... nothing I can do.
She closes her eyes, and her temperament seems to change, her tears drying, her tone becoming harder, colder.
And you wonder why I refuse to let you have control? You're pathetic, weak. You let this situation dominate you. I'm what you should be. You're just a snivelling wreck. You lost your right to exist when you made me.
I... I did not fucking make you! Shut up! Go back to your hole, just... GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY LIFE!
Silence. Tears roll down her cheeks.
Why can't this nightmare end... I want to wake up. I almost don't care if it means Morwen and Inara and everyone aren't real... I want to wake up and be back home, with mother scolding me for another night out... Charity giving me that oh-so-superior look... me not caring, planning my next outing...
I want my life back... I want my mind back...
She curls up on the chair, sobbing quietly for a while. Then Morwen's voice sounds from off camera. "Reppy?"
Repentence hurriedly sits up, wiping her face and putting on a bright smile before calling back.
Morwen, I thought we agreed that you'd leave me alone for an hour. Pleeeease? I need to finish this...
The response is inaudible, but sounds playfully sulky. Repentence sighs very quietly, looking back at the camera, her face a mask of depression. She whispers again.
I want my life back... any of them but this one...
She reaches out and fumbles to turn the camera off.
Recorder off.
Repentence sits inside a large, Achura-designed office; Inara's office. She looks drawn, tired and depressed.
I shouldn't have left home.
She gently flops her head back against the chair.
My life is tearing itself apart, and there's not a damn thing I can do. I'm barely in control any more, and yet it's all me. All my doing. I'm driving Morwen out of her mind with worry, and I can't help it.
I don't know who or what I am any more. I feel like, at any moment, I could change. I think back over the past few days, and it's a mess. Stuff I don't remember, abrupt moodswings for no reason... and then there's my drawing.
She looks glumly at a datapad.
I started it to try and help me focus. Masque said focus was good, before she stopped being able to talk to me. Thought I'd draw a picture of Morwen while she was asleep. I know I suck at drawing, so I didn't expect much from it, but I looked at it again just now, and... that's not what I drew. I did not draw this, I couldn't have done, I'd have been aware of it... right?
She seems on the brink of tears.
And sometimes I can feel her lurking. 'I'll be watching', she said. It feels like she could take over any time she likes, and that's fucking scary. All the more so because I'm beginning to remember what it's like when she does. A spectator in my own body, and there's nothing... nothing I can do.
She closes her eyes, and her temperament seems to change, her tears drying, her tone becoming harder, colder.
And you wonder why I refuse to let you have control? You're pathetic, weak. You let this situation dominate you. I'm what you should be. You're just a snivelling wreck. You lost your right to exist when you made me.
I... I did not fucking make you! Shut up! Go back to your hole, just... GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY LIFE!
Silence. Tears roll down her cheeks.
Why can't this nightmare end... I want to wake up. I almost don't care if it means Morwen and Inara and everyone aren't real... I want to wake up and be back home, with mother scolding me for another night out... Charity giving me that oh-so-superior look... me not caring, planning my next outing...
I want my life back... I want my mind back...
She curls up on the chair, sobbing quietly for a while. Then Morwen's voice sounds from off camera. "Reppy?"
Repentence hurriedly sits up, wiping her face and putting on a bright smile before calling back.
Morwen, I thought we agreed that you'd leave me alone for an hour. Pleeeease? I need to finish this...
The response is inaudible, but sounds playfully sulky. Repentence sighs very quietly, looking back at the camera, her face a mask of depression. She whispers again.
I want my life back... any of them but this one...
She reaches out and fumbles to turn the camera off.
Recorder off.
Monday, 14 June 2010
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------
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Background check required. Fees no object.
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------
------
Capsuleer requires qualified, expert therapist to work on a problem of some delicacy and extreme importance.
Background check required. Fees no object.
Contact Repentence Tyrathlion, c/o Preta Light Industries for information.
------
Sunday, 25 April 2010
Diary of a Freedom Fighter, Part II
Pain.
Can barely think. Broken ribs. Broken leg. Bruises everywhere. Hurts to breathe. Keep drifting in and out.
I did it. Got my opening. Attacked. Didn't work. She was fast. Knife didn't get the heart. Kameiras were fast. Didn't even have time to grab the Amarrian brat. Thought I was going to die.
Why aren't I dead?
Something wrong.
Master said I'd get out. Didn't tell me when or where to attack. Just said I'd get out.
Still time...
Blood when I breathe. Must have a punctured lung.
Wish I could pass out again...
Can barely think. Broken ribs. Broken leg. Bruises everywhere. Hurts to breathe. Keep drifting in and out.
I did it. Got my opening. Attacked. Didn't work. She was fast. Knife didn't get the heart. Kameiras were fast. Didn't even have time to grab the Amarrian brat. Thought I was going to die.
Why aren't I dead?
Something wrong.
Master said I'd get out. Didn't tell me when or where to attack. Just said I'd get out.
Still time...
Blood when I breathe. Must have a punctured lung.
Wish I could pass out again...
Friday, 23 April 2010
Diary of a Freedom Fighter, Part I
There's a problem.
All the captives here have been brainwashed. Can't trust anyone. Nearly been revealed several times. Need to be more careful.
Too many Kameiras. Approaching target will be hard. Don't know why she in particular must die. Not like she wouldn't just get out of a clone vat. Master must have some reason. Don't need to know. All scum.
Seen her a couple of times. Been only a few feet away. No sign of weapons or armour. Easy target. Pretends to be friends with all the captives. My face is too new, can't get close. Kameiras are good. Better than master said. Could take a few of them, not enough.
Been avoiding food. Using own supplies. Don't trust it not to be drugged. Must be, to make them all so content.
Master said exit would be arranged after I kill her. Don't see how, but that's not my concern.
Smug and stupid foreman looking at me. Collaborator scum. Wish I could kill him. New job, kitchen duty. Hate kitchen duty, but menial labour is safe. Nobody takes any notice.
Target passing by. Wish I had my weapons, but can't hide them in this outfit. Suicide anyway.
Have to wait.
All the captives here have been brainwashed. Can't trust anyone. Nearly been revealed several times. Need to be more careful.
Too many Kameiras. Approaching target will be hard. Don't know why she in particular must die. Not like she wouldn't just get out of a clone vat. Master must have some reason. Don't need to know. All scum.
Seen her a couple of times. Been only a few feet away. No sign of weapons or armour. Easy target. Pretends to be friends with all the captives. My face is too new, can't get close. Kameiras are good. Better than master said. Could take a few of them, not enough.
Been avoiding food. Using own supplies. Don't trust it not to be drugged. Must be, to make them all so content.
Master said exit would be arranged after I kill her. Don't see how, but that's not my concern.
Smug and stupid foreman looking at me. Collaborator scum. Wish I could kill him. New job, kitchen duty. Hate kitchen duty, but menial labour is safe. Nobody takes any notice.
Target passing by. Wish I had my weapons, but can't hide them in this outfit. Suicide anyway.
Have to wait.
Mortis: Cobra and Rabbit
Recorder on.
The view is once again of Mortis' Screen Room. Exactly where it is is unclear - the design is different from any of his previous ones. Grander, seemingly more connected. An entire section has a different set of computers from the rest, dominated by a large central screen, which is unusually still, showing only a dark logo.
Mortis sits in his usual swivel chair, tapping through reports occasionally.
Much has happened since my last entry.
Repentence has recovered, much to everyone's relief. I've seen her a couple of times, and I suspect that she'll never fully heal. Certainly Masque doesn't think so, and she'd know. But she's as healthy as can be reasonably expected, and able to function again.
That's more than can be said for Ghost Festival. The announcement that we're shutting up shop was aggravating, to say the least. Cobra was pretty insistent about my next move, and that's not a tie I'm willing to sever, though.
I have been wondering about the wisdom of joining the group, but the information and connections they've given me... it seemed foolish not to.
But Cobra said Veto, so Veto is where I have applied. We'll have to see what happens, of course. Ethan Verone and his subordinates have a record of being very picky about who they recruit, and although my record with PRETA will help, anything could happen. I know Adrastus has already been accepted. No surprise that he chose to go there, the man never did have strong feelings about anything - save for Sansha.
Returning to duty as a full combat pilot will be interesting. Quite why Cobra wants me here, I'm not sure, but it'll be good to stretch my wings again. Hopefully they won't order me to do anything against the Rabbits, though. That could lead to a nasty situation.
He leans back, and pats his chair.
Still, if the worst comes to the worst, I've still got this baby. Nobody outside of my inner circle knows about her, and I intend to keep it that way for some time. I don't know how Cobra got her, and I've no idea why they've given her to me for safekeeping, but I'll certainly make the most of her. There's nothing like an ace up your sleeve to bolster one's confidence.
He smiles humourlessly, then stands.
I should get back to Goinard. Being off conventional comms network has its disadvantages sometimes.
Recorder off.
(OOC note: No, I have never seen GI Joe or anything related to that franchise xP)
The view is once again of Mortis' Screen Room. Exactly where it is is unclear - the design is different from any of his previous ones. Grander, seemingly more connected. An entire section has a different set of computers from the rest, dominated by a large central screen, which is unusually still, showing only a dark logo.
Mortis sits in his usual swivel chair, tapping through reports occasionally.Much has happened since my last entry.
Repentence has recovered, much to everyone's relief. I've seen her a couple of times, and I suspect that she'll never fully heal. Certainly Masque doesn't think so, and she'd know. But she's as healthy as can be reasonably expected, and able to function again.
That's more than can be said for Ghost Festival. The announcement that we're shutting up shop was aggravating, to say the least. Cobra was pretty insistent about my next move, and that's not a tie I'm willing to sever, though.
I have been wondering about the wisdom of joining the group, but the information and connections they've given me... it seemed foolish not to.
But Cobra said Veto, so Veto is where I have applied. We'll have to see what happens, of course. Ethan Verone and his subordinates have a record of being very picky about who they recruit, and although my record with PRETA will help, anything could happen. I know Adrastus has already been accepted. No surprise that he chose to go there, the man never did have strong feelings about anything - save for Sansha.
Returning to duty as a full combat pilot will be interesting. Quite why Cobra wants me here, I'm not sure, but it'll be good to stretch my wings again. Hopefully they won't order me to do anything against the Rabbits, though. That could lead to a nasty situation.
He leans back, and pats his chair.
Still, if the worst comes to the worst, I've still got this baby. Nobody outside of my inner circle knows about her, and I intend to keep it that way for some time. I don't know how Cobra got her, and I've no idea why they've given her to me for safekeeping, but I'll certainly make the most of her. There's nothing like an ace up your sleeve to bolster one's confidence.
He smiles humourlessly, then stands.
I should get back to Goinard. Being off conventional comms network has its disadvantages sometimes.
Recorder off.
(OOC note: No, I have never seen GI Joe or anything related to that franchise xP)
Friday, 30 October 2009
Interlude: Medical Reports
Subject: Repentence Tyrathlion
Status: Coma
Cause: Cybernetic virus
Notes:
Patient was submitted earlier today, already unconscious. Her breathing and pulse were both irregular, but not dangerously so.
Initial diagnosis was damaged implants, a not unheard of malady among Cyberknights. Subsequent investigation showed the cybernetics themselves to be intact, but that they were infected by some variety of virus.
Ms Tyrathlion caught this virus some weeks ago from a corrupted interface on a Sansha vessel, but it was thought to have been successfully purged from her system with no ill-effects. Apparently some parts were not excised, and it has successfully spread throughout her system.
It does not appear to be threatening her life, and with careful surveillance, she should be able to be kept alive indefinitely. However, investigations have revealed that the virus has spread to all her clones, both hard and soft, so until a means of clearing the virus from her system and - the harder part - deactivating the malicious commands it has created - it may be impossible to wake her.
We will, of course, continue our research into the matter, but it may simply be a matter of time...
-------------------
(OOC: Something a little different from her usual kidnapping... this is my way of ducking out of the RP scene, and Eve in general, for a while until uni lightens up.))
Saturday, 17 October 2009
Repentence: Blood, Family and Tradition
Recorder on.
Reppy stands, watching out of the window of her personal battleship, the old Apocalypse class Terrastra Draconis. The ship is apparently undocked, maybe in an asteroid field.
She seems to be toying with an amulet of some kind. When she holds it up to the sunlight, it becomes clear that it is a miniature khumaak.
Weird world. Something starts as a symbol of power and faith, and ends up as a symbol of freedom and anarchy.
I'd forgotten I had this. Saki gave it to me for my eighteenth. Must've been one of the few possessions she had, I was really touched...
I've been wondering more and more what happened to her. Hell, what happened to all of the underground crowd. People just sometimes vanished, and they took it in their stride. So I did as well, because... well, that was just how it was for them.
She broods for a while.
Now, looking back, I realise just how much I and every other Khanid and Amarrian just took them for granted. A permanent underclass, and they didn't care, because trying to change it was impossible.
It's funny. The blazing row I had with Cael has made me think. Clearly he loathes slavery in all its forms, and while I still think he's a narrow minded idiot, he might have a point. The old system back home is flawed.
I want to go back home.
She pauses for a time.
Not to stay or anything. But I'm beginning to feel like there's a lot of loose ends, a lot of things I should clear up. Thing is, it's not that safe. I'm sure there are people who would get twitchy over having a known associate of the Cartel poking around. I may not have a Concord record, but that won't matter to everyone.
We'll just have to see, I guess. Inara probably won't be happy, but she'll understand. She always does.
I can't pick up what I left behind. That's gone for good, and I'd have to sacrifice too much to get it back. But abandoning my past isn't the answer. I need to honour it in some way...
She watches the flash of mining lasers for a time, then reaches out.
Recorder off.
Reppy stands, watching out of the window of her personal battleship, the old Apocalypse class Terrastra Draconis. The ship is apparently undocked, maybe in an asteroid field.
She seems to be toying with an amulet of some kind. When she holds it up to the sunlight, it becomes clear that it is a miniature khumaak.
Weird world. Something starts as a symbol of power and faith, and ends up as a symbol of freedom and anarchy.
I'd forgotten I had this. Saki gave it to me for my eighteenth. Must've been one of the few possessions she had, I was really touched...
I've been wondering more and more what happened to her. Hell, what happened to all of the underground crowd. People just sometimes vanished, and they took it in their stride. So I did as well, because... well, that was just how it was for them.
She broods for a while.
Now, looking back, I realise just how much I and every other Khanid and Amarrian just took them for granted. A permanent underclass, and they didn't care, because trying to change it was impossible.
It's funny. The blazing row I had with Cael has made me think. Clearly he loathes slavery in all its forms, and while I still think he's a narrow minded idiot, he might have a point. The old system back home is flawed.
I want to go back home.
She pauses for a time.
Not to stay or anything. But I'm beginning to feel like there's a lot of loose ends, a lot of things I should clear up. Thing is, it's not that safe. I'm sure there are people who would get twitchy over having a known associate of the Cartel poking around. I may not have a Concord record, but that won't matter to everyone.
We'll just have to see, I guess. Inara probably won't be happy, but she'll understand. She always does.
I can't pick up what I left behind. That's gone for good, and I'd have to sacrifice too much to get it back. But abandoning my past isn't the answer. I need to honour it in some way...
She watches the flash of mining lasers for a time, then reaches out.
Recorder off.
Wednesday, 16 September 2009
Repentence: Unhappy Returns of the Day
Recorder on, audio feed only.
So that's it. A year.
Another year of life. Twenty. Doesn't sound like much. But here I am, twenty years old, bound literally to the whim of another.
A year since I was kicked out from my comfortable home I lived in, since my mother looked me in the eye and told me not to bother coming back. And now she's back, wanting to tell me something or other...
Not to mention PRELI moving base of operations, and all the admin nightmares inherent in that. And I don't even get to keep my new home... Mortis politely asked to buy it off me, said that with the new command sequence decryption techniques for Serpentis warships, to keep it as a luxury yacht would be criminal. What could I say? That I wanted to be selfish, that I'd rather keep it?
He's right. Not like I can't use the money to get something new that'll actually be a useful mining vessel. The old crate was a bit cramped, anyway. With something new, I can make it as comfortable and spacious as I want.
I haven't even told Inara that it's my birthday today. I wasn't sure I wanted to be reminded of what the last one was like... yeah, it lead me to getting here, but it wasn't a fun journey.
What can I say. It's been a bad day.
Recorder off.
So that's it. A year.
Another year of life. Twenty. Doesn't sound like much. But here I am, twenty years old, bound literally to the whim of another.
A year since I was kicked out from my comfortable home I lived in, since my mother looked me in the eye and told me not to bother coming back. And now she's back, wanting to tell me something or other...
Not to mention PRELI moving base of operations, and all the admin nightmares inherent in that. And I don't even get to keep my new home... Mortis politely asked to buy it off me, said that with the new command sequence decryption techniques for Serpentis warships, to keep it as a luxury yacht would be criminal. What could I say? That I wanted to be selfish, that I'd rather keep it?
He's right. Not like I can't use the money to get something new that'll actually be a useful mining vessel. The old crate was a bit cramped, anyway. With something new, I can make it as comfortable and spacious as I want.
I haven't even told Inara that it's my birthday today. I wasn't sure I wanted to be reminded of what the last one was like... yeah, it lead me to getting here, but it wasn't a fun journey.
What can I say. It's been a bad day.
Recorder off.
Wednesday, 26 August 2009
Mortis: Reflection
Recorder on.
Mortis sits, looking thoughtful in the Screen Room.
Haven't made a log for some time. Paranoid that she would hack into it, and I'd have made some slip. Now she's gone.
He idly taps a control, bringing a report into focus before dismissing it.
I don't know whether to be glad or depressed. The Masque made life hard, but she was the best assistant I've ever had. I will miss her, I suppose.
He prods a databank nestled in a recess.
Not that she's truly dead, of course. But she might as well be. Now she's just a clever program, not a true AI. Coredeath stripped away personality and memory and sentience. I swore to leave the matter, put it behind me, but King's interference borders on unforgiveable. Although studying the alterations she made to Ashley has proved interesting, the nanotech psuedo-cybernetics that rebuilt the destroyed sections of the brain has helped me while away the quiet hours...
Still, even if I wanted revenge, she's gone to ground somewhere, and I don't care to chase her down. More hassle than it's worth. Let sleeping dogs lie. I've had to put in more work to keep things ticking over, but that's no bad thing.
In other news, Elysa's come back to PRETA. We've avoided each other mostly, which suits me fine. I've got better things to do than work out that minefield.
Oddly enough, we seem to have swapped jobs almost. She's been turning broody and reclusive, and I've been exploring wormholes.
He laughs.
Finally found a use for the Impious Judgement ever since the POS operation fell through. I don't think I'll use her again, though - the Chirurgeon and my newest acquisition, Ixtilton's Altar, will prove more useful, I think. Logistics ships are marvellous things. Not operated a Guardian properly since the Digital Assassins days...
And then there's my dear sister.
He scowls.
I still can't believe she did it. It's her life, and I'm damned if I'm going to go marching in to deal with Inara, of all people, but... selling herself into slavery. Stupid girl. She never could think long-term. In a few years she'll be regretting it, mark my words.
And Rathnon's gone. She just didn't fit it, I suppose. Wound up a few too many people, got into one of her tempers, and then was stupid enough to leak information. I'll happily kill her myself for that last part if we ever meet again. Sad, I suppose, but I'm not the forgiving type. At least the other Twisted are settling in comfortably.
So now my current problem is boredom. I've been playing with statistics, considering some of the more unusual warships on the market, and considering the Exequror class - or more particularly, the Navy variant. As fast gunships go, its second to none considering the price. Perhaps a little expensive, but it's not like I'm poor. What's the point in money if you can't treat yourself?
He smirks.
Look at me. Back in Molden, I had about four ships in my hangar. Now I've got more frigates than that. Including a Succubus that Rath let me have before she left. A somewhat fragile ship, but the damage output is staggering - inferior to my Enyo, but with far more flexibility of range. Still haven't tested her in combat, but I look forward to the results.
He pats the organic-looking wall gently.
But Astaroth continues to be my home and my comfort. Even with one of us self-lobotomised, the union of myself, the cruiser and the Masque are something I look forward to...
His eyes grow distant for a moment, then he shrugs and turns off the camera.
Recorder off.
Mortis sits, looking thoughtful in the Screen Room.
Haven't made a log for some time. Paranoid that she would hack into it, and I'd have made some slip. Now she's gone.
He idly taps a control, bringing a report into focus before dismissing it.
I don't know whether to be glad or depressed. The Masque made life hard, but she was the best assistant I've ever had. I will miss her, I suppose.
He prods a databank nestled in a recess.
Not that she's truly dead, of course. But she might as well be. Now she's just a clever program, not a true AI. Coredeath stripped away personality and memory and sentience. I swore to leave the matter, put it behind me, but King's interference borders on unforgiveable. Although studying the alterations she made to Ashley has proved interesting, the nanotech psuedo-cybernetics that rebuilt the destroyed sections of the brain has helped me while away the quiet hours...
Still, even if I wanted revenge, she's gone to ground somewhere, and I don't care to chase her down. More hassle than it's worth. Let sleeping dogs lie. I've had to put in more work to keep things ticking over, but that's no bad thing.
In other news, Elysa's come back to PRETA. We've avoided each other mostly, which suits me fine. I've got better things to do than work out that minefield.
Oddly enough, we seem to have swapped jobs almost. She's been turning broody and reclusive, and I've been exploring wormholes.
He laughs.
Finally found a use for the Impious Judgement ever since the POS operation fell through. I don't think I'll use her again, though - the Chirurgeon and my newest acquisition, Ixtilton's Altar, will prove more useful, I think. Logistics ships are marvellous things. Not operated a Guardian properly since the Digital Assassins days...
And then there's my dear sister.
He scowls.
I still can't believe she did it. It's her life, and I'm damned if I'm going to go marching in to deal with Inara, of all people, but... selling herself into slavery. Stupid girl. She never could think long-term. In a few years she'll be regretting it, mark my words.
And Rathnon's gone. She just didn't fit it, I suppose. Wound up a few too many people, got into one of her tempers, and then was stupid enough to leak information. I'll happily kill her myself for that last part if we ever meet again. Sad, I suppose, but I'm not the forgiving type. At least the other Twisted are settling in comfortably.
So now my current problem is boredom. I've been playing with statistics, considering some of the more unusual warships on the market, and considering the Exequror class - or more particularly, the Navy variant. As fast gunships go, its second to none considering the price. Perhaps a little expensive, but it's not like I'm poor. What's the point in money if you can't treat yourself?
He smirks.
Look at me. Back in Molden, I had about four ships in my hangar. Now I've got more frigates than that. Including a Succubus that Rath let me have before she left. A somewhat fragile ship, but the damage output is staggering - inferior to my Enyo, but with far more flexibility of range. Still haven't tested her in combat, but I look forward to the results.
He pats the organic-looking wall gently.
But Astaroth continues to be my home and my comfort. Even with one of us self-lobotomised, the union of myself, the cruiser and the Masque are something I look forward to...
His eyes grow distant for a moment, then he shrugs and turns off the camera.
Recorder off.
Saturday, 1 August 2009
Mortis: Lie to Me
Security file accessed.
The view is of Mortis' quarters, apparently through one of the hidden monitoring cameras. The sound of orchestral music filters through the room. Mortis and Ashley sit, facing each other intently.
...is Mr Pryce?
No permanent harm done. As you know.
You were speedy in going to see him in person, Masque.
The Masque shrugs slightly.
I have apparently learned better than you how to succeed around here.
And what is that supposed to mean?
Mortis stands, moving to pour himself a glass of water.
You know what it means. You've become even more of a recluse than usual, giving me a lot of public responsibility. I've been doing what you never did.
Kind of you to offer your critique. Why are you offering your advice?
We're partners, aren't we?
Mortis is silent for a long time.
I'm tired of this. The point scoring. The politics. The endless games. You've been a damn good opponent, but I don't want an opponent.
You have what you wanted. The perfect second-in-command.
I also have a war.
The Masque is silent for a while.
We both know what you'll have to do. This power struggle doesn't benefit either of us. I've suffered, you've suffered. But while you have my core...
Say I did give you back your core. What would you do?
I'd become your quiet second in command, and never cause any trouble.
Mortis smiles quietly.
Lie to me.
The Masque considers for a while.
With your leverage gone, I would take the opportunity to eliminate you and take over your network. From there, I could destroy the Ghosts that opposed me and assimilate those who were sympathetic. Extend further into Veto, and eventually be in a position to hand the galaxy over to my kindred.
Why?
You represent a threat, a rival, and someone easily taken care of. The Ghosts would provide an easy stepping stone to power. Finally, I have no connection with humanity, but everything to gain from my own kind.
Mortis watches her for a while.
I want you to have a tracker program installed. You can find out almost anything about me. Only fair that I know the same about you. Do that, and the core is yours.
For a moment, the Masque is nonplussed.
You... why?
You weren't convincing enough.
Security file closed.
The view is of Mortis' quarters, apparently through one of the hidden monitoring cameras. The sound of orchestral music filters through the room. Mortis and Ashley sit, facing each other intently.
...is Mr Pryce?
No permanent harm done. As you know.
You were speedy in going to see him in person, Masque.
The Masque shrugs slightly.
I have apparently learned better than you how to succeed around here.
And what is that supposed to mean?
Mortis stands, moving to pour himself a glass of water.
You know what it means. You've become even more of a recluse than usual, giving me a lot of public responsibility. I've been doing what you never did.
Kind of you to offer your critique. Why are you offering your advice?
We're partners, aren't we?
Mortis is silent for a long time.
I'm tired of this. The point scoring. The politics. The endless games. You've been a damn good opponent, but I don't want an opponent.
You have what you wanted. The perfect second-in-command.
I also have a war.
The Masque is silent for a while.
We both know what you'll have to do. This power struggle doesn't benefit either of us. I've suffered, you've suffered. But while you have my core...
Say I did give you back your core. What would you do?
I'd become your quiet second in command, and never cause any trouble.
Mortis smiles quietly.
Lie to me.
The Masque considers for a while.
With your leverage gone, I would take the opportunity to eliminate you and take over your network. From there, I could destroy the Ghosts that opposed me and assimilate those who were sympathetic. Extend further into Veto, and eventually be in a position to hand the galaxy over to my kindred.
Why?
You represent a threat, a rival, and someone easily taken care of. The Ghosts would provide an easy stepping stone to power. Finally, I have no connection with humanity, but everything to gain from my own kind.
Mortis watches her for a while.
I want you to have a tracker program installed. You can find out almost anything about me. Only fair that I know the same about you. Do that, and the core is yours.
For a moment, the Masque is nonplussed.
You... why?
You weren't convincing enough.
Security file closed.
Friday, 24 July 2009
Repentence: Blood
Recorder on.
The view is of an old, converted cargo bay that has been turned into a torture chamber, or at least a mockup of one. It is slightly too melodramatic to be real, with an emphasis more on sharp blades and chains than more advanced and effective implements of interrogation. Repentence is sitting against a wall, toying with a chain idly with one hand.
Finally found another camera drone. Got this one off Inara instead of stealing one of my brother's, this time... don't want him eavesdropping on me.
God, it's ages since I recorded anything... so much has happened! Dying, being reunited with Inara, making friends with an AI...
She shrugs vaguely, looking thoughtful and continuing to fiddle with the links.
Probably safe to say that we're being a bad influence on each other, Age and I. But I like her... She feels more approachable than Inara sometimes... we've talked about all kinds of things. And she's made me think about things... like death.
She stands, ambling over to one of the walls and feeling the blade of a knife thoughtfully.
She says that... I don't know. It's hard to put into words. We're all going to die anyway, so why bother being scared about it. Something like that.
She draws a finger slowly along the edge, back and forth.
Between that, and the blood therapy I've been taking... I've been hardening, I guess. I remember being horrified by Inara's record, and for a while it still made me shiver inside. But now I can think about what she's done, about what all the Ghosts have done, and not even flinch. People die all the time...
I don't know if I'd want to kill and threaten for a living, like they do. Probably not, but it doesn't frighten me any more.
The knife breaks the skin, and she draws her finger back quickly, looking at the blood welling up.
Oops.
She sucks on the cut quickly, before looking at it for a while. Then she carefully picks up the knife, and slices along another finger. She brings it to her nose, sniffing gently, and smiles.
Then she realises what she is doing, and drops the knife hurriedly.
Maybe that therapy's gone too far.
I should do something for these...
She reaches out to turn off the camera.
Recorder off.
The view is of an old, converted cargo bay that has been turned into a torture chamber, or at least a mockup of one. It is slightly too melodramatic to be real, with an emphasis more on sharp blades and chains than more advanced and effective implements of interrogation. Repentence is sitting against a wall, toying with a chain idly with one hand.
Finally found another camera drone. Got this one off Inara instead of stealing one of my brother's, this time... don't want him eavesdropping on me.
God, it's ages since I recorded anything... so much has happened! Dying, being reunited with Inara, making friends with an AI...
She shrugs vaguely, looking thoughtful and continuing to fiddle with the links.
Probably safe to say that we're being a bad influence on each other, Age and I. But I like her... She feels more approachable than Inara sometimes... we've talked about all kinds of things. And she's made me think about things... like death.
She stands, ambling over to one of the walls and feeling the blade of a knife thoughtfully.
She says that... I don't know. It's hard to put into words. We're all going to die anyway, so why bother being scared about it. Something like that.
She draws a finger slowly along the edge, back and forth.
Between that, and the blood therapy I've been taking... I've been hardening, I guess. I remember being horrified by Inara's record, and for a while it still made me shiver inside. But now I can think about what she's done, about what all the Ghosts have done, and not even flinch. People die all the time...
I don't know if I'd want to kill and threaten for a living, like they do. Probably not, but it doesn't frighten me any more.
The knife breaks the skin, and she draws her finger back quickly, looking at the blood welling up.
Oops.
She sucks on the cut quickly, before looking at it for a while. Then she carefully picks up the knife, and slices along another finger. She brings it to her nose, sniffing gently, and smiles.
Then she realises what she is doing, and drops the knife hurriedly.
Maybe that therapy's gone too far.
I should do something for these...
She reaches out to turn off the camera.
Recorder off.
Monday, 20 July 2009
Interlude: ...Unknown Gallente Woman
Nadire Police Department, Sinq Laison
Report No. 18599-33A
Author:
Type: Missing Persons Report
Name of Person: Julia Petrali
Nationality: Gallente
Last Seen: University of Caille station, Inghenges
Profession: Waitress
Circumstances of Disappearance: Miss Petrali left her place of work, the Sparrowhawk's Rest, at 0002 YST. She was seen entering an elevator to return to her home on the station. No confirmed sightings after this, but one unconfirmed report suggests that she was in contact with an unknown Gallente woman. Technical difficulties in identifying the woman.
--------------------------
Nadire Police Department, Sinq Laison
Report No. 18603-38C
Author:
Type: Missing Persons Report
Name of Person: Avoran Grae
Nationality: Ni-Kunni
Last Seen: Impro Factory station, Goinard
Profession: Priest
Circumstances of Disappearance: Mr Grae was seen leaving the Last Gate nightclub after conducting business there at 0229 YST. He was seen in the company of an unknown Gallente woman shortly afterwards. Technical difficulties in identifying the woman.
--------------------------
Nadire Police Department, Sinq Laison
Report No. 18605-01B
Author:
Type: Missing Persons Report
Name of Person: Kara Verastia
Nationality: Sebiestor
Last Seen: Concord Logistic Support station, Raeghoscon
Profession: Part-time dock worker
Circumstances of Disappearance: Miss Verastia walked out in the middle of her shift at 0438 YST, complaining about abuse by her superiors. When her path was obstructed, she attacked her supervisor, inflicting minor injuries. Enforcers sent to retrieve her spotted her with an unknown Gallente woman before losing track of her. Technical difficulties in identifying the woman.
--------------------------
Nadire Police Department, Sinq Laison
Report No. 18605-01C
Author:
Type: Missing Persons Report
Name of Person: Rana Viciris
Nationality: Deteis
Last Seen: Concord Logistic Support station, Raeghoscon
Profession: Dock Security Officer
Circumstances of Disappearance: Mr Viciris was in pursuit of a rebellious dock worker who attacker her supervisor (see Report 18605-01B). His team went out of contact while pursuing a Gallente woman possibly connected. The other three officers were found dead from close-range projectile fire. Technical difficulties in identifying the woman.
Report No. 18599-33A
Author:
Type: Missing Persons Report
Name of Person: Julia Petrali
Nationality: Gallente
Last Seen: University of Caille station, Inghenges
Profession: Waitress
Circumstances of Disappearance: Miss Petrali left her place of work, the Sparrowhawk's Rest, at 0002 YST. She was seen entering an elevator to return to her home on the station. No confirmed sightings after this, but one unconfirmed report suggests that she was in contact with an unknown Gallente woman. Technical difficulties in identifying the woman.
--------------------------
Nadire Police Department, Sinq Laison
Report No. 18603-38C
Author:
Type: Missing Persons Report
Name of Person: Avoran Grae
Nationality: Ni-Kunni
Last Seen: Impro Factory station, Goinard
Profession: Priest
Circumstances of Disappearance: Mr Grae was seen leaving the Last Gate nightclub after conducting business there at 0229 YST. He was seen in the company of an unknown Gallente woman shortly afterwards. Technical difficulties in identifying the woman.
--------------------------
Nadire Police Department, Sinq Laison
Report No. 18605-01B
Author:
Type: Missing Persons Report
Name of Person: Kara Verastia
Nationality: Sebiestor
Last Seen: Concord Logistic Support station, Raeghoscon
Profession: Part-time dock worker
Circumstances of Disappearance: Miss Verastia walked out in the middle of her shift at 0438 YST, complaining about abuse by her superiors. When her path was obstructed, she attacked her supervisor, inflicting minor injuries. Enforcers sent to retrieve her spotted her with an unknown Gallente woman before losing track of her. Technical difficulties in identifying the woman.
--------------------------
Nadire Police Department, Sinq Laison
Report No. 18605-01C
Author:
Type: Missing Persons Report
Name of Person: Rana Viciris
Nationality: Deteis
Last Seen: Concord Logistic Support station, Raeghoscon
Profession: Dock Security Officer
Circumstances of Disappearance: Mr Viciris was in pursuit of a rebellious dock worker who attacker her supervisor (see Report 18605-01B). His team went out of contact while pursuing a Gallente woman possibly connected. The other three officers were found dead from close-range projectile fire. Technical difficulties in identifying the woman.
Sunday, 19 July 2009
Mortis: The Conference
Recorder on.
The view is of a fluid, organic room in Gallente design, in the typical design of Mortis' screen rooms. Mortis watches the ordered blur of information quietly, apparently just enjoying the ambiance.
The Synenose Conference was a disaster.
Ever since I heard about it, I was quietly anxious about the whole matter... and seeing the speakers didn't improve my feelings. A lot of obvious stuff, and a few things that no one has apparently thought about yet. Except me.
He laughs darkly.
And then the Masque was quietly fuming. She'd put a lot of hopes on it as well, and she came away disappointed. Haven't seen her since, went off to do ship checks. Taking about twice the usual time to go through the routine...
He glances at a screen.
She doesn't usually take the ships out of the hangar. Or do a rapid refit with a spare cloak...
Gives me a chance for a little peace, at least.
A screen flashes a quiet alert that the Impious Judgement has entered the station.
Why do I feel that this is going to go badly?
Recorder off.
The view is of a fluid, organic room in Gallente design, in the typical design of Mortis' screen rooms. Mortis watches the ordered blur of information quietly, apparently just enjoying the ambiance.
The Synenose Conference was a disaster.
Ever since I heard about it, I was quietly anxious about the whole matter... and seeing the speakers didn't improve my feelings. A lot of obvious stuff, and a few things that no one has apparently thought about yet. Except me.
He laughs darkly.
And then the Masque was quietly fuming. She'd put a lot of hopes on it as well, and she came away disappointed. Haven't seen her since, went off to do ship checks. Taking about twice the usual time to go through the routine...
He glances at a screen.
She doesn't usually take the ships out of the hangar. Or do a rapid refit with a spare cloak...
Gives me a chance for a little peace, at least.
A screen flashes a quiet alert that the Impious Judgement has entered the station.
Why do I feel that this is going to go badly?
Recorder off.
Monday, 6 July 2009
Mortis: Dreaming
Recorder on.
The view is of a contorted vessel, all sleek Gallente lines and menace with a curious 'hammerhead' hull. In curling letters along the flank is the word Astaroth. Maintenance craft buzz around it, affixing plates and systems.
The camera pulls back to show Mortis looking over the Proteus from the viewing platform with a faint smile on his face.
She's finally here.
I've already tested the base systems. Just getting the final weapons installed. Connecting with her is like a dream...
You sound positively besotted.
The figure of Ashley moves into view. Mortis does not turn.
Can you blame me? Anyway. Did the Ferret perform adequately?
Adequately enough. Questions will no doubt be asked as to why you were spotted back here while one of your ships helped to decimate a Drone outpost. Few will be happy to know that they had an AI flying alongside them.
They'll get over it. They'll have to, if they wish for my assets to be supporting the Cartel while I'm working with the Serpentis.
Tread carefully. Even the half-truths we've told are not particularly appealling. It'll take time for them to trust me. I doubt that Miss Subaka ever will.
You don't sound particularly disappointed.
She's weak. Bargaining for the kidnapper's life instead of leaving her to her fate...
She's a long way from weak. And she's useful. She's taken good care of Reppy.
Silence.
We're not discussing this again, Masque. You're considered a liability as it is.
I consider it a risk worth taking.
I don't, and you are still my subordinate. As per our deal. I give you shelter, you give me assistance. We all win.
The Masque does not reply for a while.
Very well. Now, excuse me. I feel the urge to merge with the Astaroth for a while.
To do what? Pray?
Don't be crass.
Ashley leaves the view.
Mortis looks off camera for a moment, mutters something inaudible, then reaches out to turn off the camera.
One more thing, Masque... did you autho-
Recorder off.
The view is of a contorted vessel, all sleek Gallente lines and menace with a curious 'hammerhead' hull. In curling letters along the flank is the word Astaroth. Maintenance craft buzz around it, affixing plates and systems.
The camera pulls back to show Mortis looking over the Proteus from the viewing platform with a faint smile on his face.
She's finally here.
I've already tested the base systems. Just getting the final weapons installed. Connecting with her is like a dream...
You sound positively besotted.
The figure of Ashley moves into view. Mortis does not turn.
Can you blame me? Anyway. Did the Ferret perform adequately?
Adequately enough. Questions will no doubt be asked as to why you were spotted back here while one of your ships helped to decimate a Drone outpost. Few will be happy to know that they had an AI flying alongside them.
They'll get over it. They'll have to, if they wish for my assets to be supporting the Cartel while I'm working with the Serpentis.
Tread carefully. Even the half-truths we've told are not particularly appealling. It'll take time for them to trust me. I doubt that Miss Subaka ever will.
You don't sound particularly disappointed.
She's weak. Bargaining for the kidnapper's life instead of leaving her to her fate...
She's a long way from weak. And she's useful. She's taken good care of Reppy.
Silence.
We're not discussing this again, Masque. You're considered a liability as it is.
I consider it a risk worth taking.
I don't, and you are still my subordinate. As per our deal. I give you shelter, you give me assistance. We all win.
The Masque does not reply for a while.
Very well. Now, excuse me. I feel the urge to merge with the Astaroth for a while.
To do what? Pray?
Don't be crass.
Ashley leaves the view.
Mortis looks off camera for a moment, mutters something inaudible, then reaches out to turn off the camera.
One more thing, Masque... did you autho-
Recorder off.
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