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Topic Started: May 28 2012, 06:33 PM (29 Views)
Fran
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Posted by: Zaleena Mar 17 2012, 11:45 PM
The unobserved state is a fog of probabilities. The watcher observes: the fog collapses, an event evolves, a possibility becomes a fact. We-

Oh, this wasn't going anywhere, again.

The letters blurred and twirled, sending specks of their light to dance in the dark mirror of violet eyes before being sucked into the dull surface of the desk with a last flicker of luminous dust. A deep breath, and a light gesture of the hand swept away the heavy lock of hair from her face, tapering fingers combing the silky mass. The new Cadets' Swear was next month and the speech was still hanging in the void, without an hat or a tail. Resting her eyes, she massaged her temple slowly, a little pang of pain scattering her thoughts like the pixels of the holoscreen.

Her attempt at filling the wait in a productive way had failed, but a quick check at the hour informed her that it did not matter anymore: few minutes were all was left of the morning shift, and he was not going to be late.

Her reflection in the metallic desk returned her empty gaze, and she rose an eyebrow at it, finding it a little less perfect than she'd liked: shadows of tiredness signed her eyes and dry lines of tension hardened her face.

Predictable and maybe inevitable, considered how long her little...woman talk with the Warden had dragged itself into the night . But had been necessary: no amount of personal files could have given her the exact measure of the feline's determination. She had needed to see with her eyes to part the fog of dangerous possibilities and reach the truth.

And the truth was that the Warden had nothing else left to live for but her hate.

Violet irises flashed in the shadow of her still half-lowered eyelids, her gaze fleeing to the side of her desktop, resting on the frame of the twin photo-set, a bittersweet smile parting her lips painted the color of the night sky.

Whatever the Commissioner could have thought or felt about it, it had dissipated already along with the last traces of alcohol from her blood. She was beyond pity, above care. All that mattered was that she won't have allowed that hate to touch him. Not now that she was so close to get him back.

Since the technicians had retrieved the coordinates of the accidental over-zoning, she'd cut time away from her duties for him. Leading her Corp through times of Chaos she hadn't left anything undone. One by one, she'd chosen her tools, tested the strength of every single shoulder she was going to lay that mission on.

The Warden was but a gear, at the same time the most vital and the most dangerous of the whole mechanism she'd assembled. A former life-stealer was the only candidate with enough competence to move Outside without the risk of collateral damage.

So she had let her bite, tested her venom, and found the antidote to it.

A milder smile softened her features as she slowly let her shoulders sink against the soft stuffing of her chair, her almost inaudible breaths the only sound in the room, making her aware of the time flowing gently.

He won't fail her. He never had.

The numbers on her desktop flicked , turning red with a bip in the very second her ears picked up the faint sound of approaching steps in the corridor and she felt the familiar tug of her bodyguard in her mind.

Misstressss
I know, Zychel. Do let him in...

The last of an amused grin dyed on her lips as the double doors opened sending the stronger light of the corridor to cut a line till her obscured desk, the well-known shadow of the ant stretching through the polished floor.

Violet eyes watched impassibly the figure framed in the door, the Commissioner face a mask of gentle but aloof seriousness, so far from the flirty smiles she was used to greet him with, her voice distant and yet imposing like the call of a mother.

-Do come in, General...-

Posted by: Zool Mar 26 2012, 08:36 PM
Zool had been off duty when the summons came. He didn't often have time off, but he'd been unable to enjoy the little he did have lately. It was difficult to concentrate on any kind of leisure activity in his current state of unrest. Not that he had a raging social life at the best of times, but even his peace lily was beginning to look wilted and neglected. Peace was the last emotion he could hope to feel at the moment, instead he felt more like a coiled spring, ready for action but without anywhere to direct this energy.

A rather staggering difference to his usual self, but it would have taken a heart of stone not to be moved by Agent Zonic's disappearance. At least for someone who had had contact with the officer personally and worked so closely with the Commissioner herself. She was a strong woman, but she was still a woman who had lost her child. Honestly, it had been hard to be anywhere but by her side during this difficult time, but she had not requested his presence, and he had never been one to impose. But it seemed she finally had need of him, and for that he was glad.

He strode into the room as the huge doors opened and saluted, “You wanted to see me, ma'am?”

Zaleena nodded. She was seated behind her desk, sleek and perfect as ever. But he thought she looked pale, and there were dark marks beneath her shrewd eyes that hinted at nights of unrest. Or perhaps it was just the harsh light from the lamp, the shadows that carressed her face that made her seem so haggard. She leaned forwards, crossing her hands and resting her chin on them. “I hope you left nothing important pending to answer my call, General?” she asked.

He shook his head in reply. “I was off duty.”

The Commissioner leaned back in her chair once again, her eyes moving over his perfect uniform with a sigh and the tiniest of smiles. “I see. I am afraid I have to ask you to drop your regular duties for an indeterminate amount of time.” She paused, fiddling with something on her desk. “...for there is a particular matter I require you to take care of, General.”

Once again his response was concise and to the point. “I await your orders, ma'am.”

“As you already know, General, during the current crisis we have lost contact with several agents across the zones.” She sighed again, rubbing at her temples with long graceful fingers and he saw she really did look tired. It was not just a trick of the light. “Now that the Tornado seems to have settled down, most of them have been able to contact HQ in the last 24 hours. Most, but not all.” She looked up once again as she spoke the last words, lavander eyes meeting his directly.

Of course, he knew exactly who she meant. He had been monitoring the whole situation closely, ticking off each name as they turned up safe. And he had never doubted the majority of them would. No one was sent on a mission to the Outside without the proper training. Though of course an officer never really expected to be marooned, it did happen on occasion and the academy taught the protocol involved. But despite that, if no contact had been received, with the channels clear for this long? Something had happened. He wished he could offer words of comfort then, but he didn't know what to say, so he said nothing and instead simply continued to watch her intently.

“Weeks have passed,” she said, her tone had softened somewhat, but it was still cold. “He is alive, but unable to contact us, nor to come back, even now.” Her eyes flashed at those words, as though daring him to contradict her. To tell her that her son could be dead, and he wondered briefly if anyone had been so blunt thus far. Then she looked away again, eyes downcast. “A stranded agent, and such a...” she trailed off and sighed heavily. “Young one, is a danger to both himself and for the dimension he ends up in and for the secrecy of our Corps. This danger must be removed, promptly.” She looked back up, and the fragile look was gone, her eyes burning once again. “Bring him back, General.”

Zool hesitated, trying to think how to phrase the question he must ask delicately. “Are we... certain, that Agent Zonic is still alive?” He did not mean to cast doubt on her, but if there were evidence...

Zaleena was unwavering, her tone icy when she replied. “I would not require your services in such a critical moment otherwise, General. We receive his signal, and the technicians have been able to retrieve the coordinates of his travel.”

That was all he had wished to know, and in hearing it he felt a weight lift from his own heart. He would have went anyway of course, even if there had been no hope. But if it was possible to suceed, then he would. He bowed, the gesture harkening back to his younger days, when he had served a Princess. “Then I swear to you, I will bring him home.”

She smiled, and this time it touched her eyes, lending a little light to their darkness. “I was expecting no less of you. However...” She lifted a file from her desk. “Despite your undeniable skills, General, a blind mission Outside requires a kind of training and experience I am afraid you lack. This is why I have personally chosen the squad that will accompany you.” She flicked the file open, scrolling quickly through a variety of information before pausing briefly on the face of a blue furred feline woman. Even upside down Zool recognised that face, though he had never had much personal contact with the officer in question. “You'll find the details here.”

He nodded and took the file from her as she handed it over. “I shall leave with all possible haste.” He saluted once, and turned to go, but paused as she called his name again. “Ma'am?”

Zaleena's expression was cloaked in shadows once again, impossible to read. “One of crew may prove to be...troublesome. Warden Ziroir is...a special case. So please to pay a special attention to her.”

It seemed an odd thing to say. And he searched his memory briefly for the possible meaning behind it. Warden Ziroir... she had been one of the best, unless he was much mistaken, but it had been a long time since she'd been in the field. She was almost, from what he'd heard, something of a loose cannon, but if Zaleena thought she was the woman for the job, then he trusted her judgement.

He nodded grimly. “Understood, ma'am.”

Posted by: Ziroir Mar 30 2012, 01:18 AM
All traces of the previous night were skillfully hidden behind her visor, makeup, and a couple doses of headache pills. Despite having very few reasons to maintain it on the job, Ziroir kept her appearance in tip-top shape, no matter how she’d spent the hours before the long ride to Zonecop HQ.

By anyone’s standards, last night had been anything but normal. Not just anyone would be challenged to a drinking contest by one of the Corp’s Commissioners. Zaleena proved to be a worthy opponent, but even now, the cat suspected her win had been little more than a ruse to get her as intoxicated as possible, for a… lowering of inhibitions. The joke was on the Commissioner, of course; she drank more than that on a weekly basis, and still had pretty good control of her faculties by the time the hedgehog made her move. Things had gone downhill from there... At least she’d gotten a free ride home out of it. The boy-turned-bodyguard Zaleena had brought with her wasn’t hard on the eyes, but she knew better than to try anything. Instead, she got him to make sure she made it to her front door without running into any troublemakers or lampposts.

Any sensible person would have gone to sleep after that, seeing as she had to be back at work for the early-morning shift. But as most people who knew her were aware, Ziroir was far from sensible. Instead, she spent the whole night awake and working, sorting through practically everything she owned and shoving her choices into an extremely large hiking bag. By the time Aperion’s internal light reached her windows, it had grown almost as large as its owner… and almost as heavy, too.

She got plenty of strange looks as she rode up to the surface, but that hardly bothered her. The only thing on her mind was keeping one hand on her bag, and the other on her phone. Just before reaching the Belt, she sent out a single message to three different numbers.

They’re sending me Outside - Z

It was her own little device, normally kept safely down the front of her top. Ziroir didn’t use the Corp’s communication devices for anything other than work, because she knew as well as anyone that they monitored everything that went in and out of their electronics.

Within ten minutes, the single reply blinked back:

Godspeed - M B W

She smiled at it, before snapping the device shut and zipping it into her uniform. It was time to start.

The official summons came several hours later, while she was running systems checks in the Well’s central control room. She barely looked up from the screen when the girl marched in, her spine ramrod-straight and words oh so carefully thought out. Either she’d been warned about who she was talking to, or really wanted to leave a good impression… If she was expecting attitude or recognition from the cat woman, she was sorely disappointed, and left within sixty seconds.

It was only after she was alone again that Ziroir sat back from her computer terminal, and sighed. Was she ready? Was she really ready for this? The bag sat against one smooth wall, its size lending weight to her convictions. Yes, she was. She could do it. She would do it.

And more than that, she would do it her way.

Orders were orders, and even if she disagreed with them, she would still follow through on what she’d agreed to. Find the little guy, get him home safe, and talk to him as little as possible in the process. But as for everything else, that would be up to her… and whoever else was going on this little excursion. Zaleena would never let a wildcat like her go after her precious boy alone, after all.

She had slid the helmet on, letting the visor cover her face to hide whatever might have otherwise shown in her eyes. Then she picked up her bag, slung it over one shoulder (and nearly toppled over from the weight), then strode out from the sickly blue glow of the Catacombs. For once, she was sure the freezing clouds still clung to her when she boarded the elevator, clinging to her ankles like a fog. Only when she finally made her way to the hangar did it seem to ease its grip.

It was easy to tell which ship she had to go to, because it was the only one with any activity going on around it. Not that it wouldn’t have drawn the eye anyway; the Pure Thought was as far from No-Zone tech as you could imagine. A sleek, steely bullet that was polished so brightly, the woman was sure she’d be able to see her reflection in it. Maybe she’d get the chance, before they left…

From behind her helmet, grey eyes flicked across each of the figures standing nearby when she approached. It didn’t take much to figure out the identity of the tallest one, and she gave a mental sigh of resignation. Of course! Who else would she send? Her golden boy, the one man she’d trust to follow the rules without question.

Showing no sign of her thoughts, she marched boldly up to the little assembly, and saluted.

“Warden Ziroir, reporting for duty,” she exclaimed brightly, her smile the only thing visible beneath the helmet’s mirrored glass. “Nice to meet you all!”

Posted by: The NPC Account Apr 15 2012, 01:57 PM
The bipping of the alarm clock had been going since 5 good minutes already, but despite how large Zig’s ears were, when sleep caught their owner, they could be deaf even to a rocket boom. Splayed belly-up on his comfy hovering armchair, arms hanging limp at the sides, his protective visor still covering his eyes, the cat snored loudly, the mess of instruments and loose tiny gear pieces on his desk suggesting a late-night-work induced collapse.

That was the scene that presented itself as Zector entered the lab, a mug of hot black synthetic coffee smoking in each hand, spreading its delicious aroma. The crocodile grunted softly, shutting up the alarm clock with a well-aimed swap of the tail, setting the mug down on the working table with a smirk, and crossing his arms, starting sipping his coffee, waiting for the liquid to do its magic.

The only thing that could wake up a stoned Ziggy was his own stomach: the cat’s triangular nose started sniffing the air almost immediately, the heavy feline sitting up even before opening one of his little yellow eyes, his paw grabbing the mug.

-It’s already morniiiiiingh- a yawn cut the rhetorical question, the cat hanging his head forward before sniffing and downing his coffee in one go.

_Has been morning since hours, man! Are you ready or what? When is the meeting for the mission?_

As answer the striped violet cat opened his other eye, blinking at the visibly nervous crocodile: Zector’s tail kept sweeping the floor, his jaw munching air.

-There’s an hour still…- the cat sighed and shrugged, turning his attention to his work-desk, picking up a small rounded device with a smile: the result of the sleep-less night was in his hand, repaying him of the tiredness.

-I finished the tracker just in time! It’s a flying pursuer, based on the same principle of…- he started explaining, only to be cut short by the crocodile’s arm-wave in front of his nose.

_Zig…Zig, Ziggy, yo? Look at me, man: am I short, purple, with glasses? No. Spare the geek-talk for ‘Spi. I meant you: are you ready? _
With an eye-roll, the cat simply opened his arms in an exasperated way.

-Zec! It’s not the first time I go Outside, not even the first time I go on a long mission. Relax! What got into you lately?-he retorted, finally getting up from his chair and starting tidying up the table.

_Nothing. Okay, maybe…I don’t like much the idea of staying behind, that’s all…_ the crocodile finally admitted, trying to shrug it off, but frowning at his mug.

Zig sighed. Quite a mild reaction, coming from Zector: they were all worried, but for him had to be worse: despite he put up his cool macho act all the time, they all knew how deeply responsible and attached he felt for the kid, and how violent and explosive his reactions were when the little one was involved. Zig had been surprised that he hadn’t thrown himself to a Warper the minute after knowing what had happened! This quietness and mature acting was concerning, as much as the Tornado’s eye: nobody knew how much was going to last, and how bad would be the storm after. Zig could only hope that this streak of sensible acting would keep going. The cat picked up his utility bag, checking the contents quickly, pondering something to say as well as something to add in.

- Well, the space on board is limited… -

_And you probably count for two…_ the crocodile muttered under his breath.

-…and that’s why you aren’t coming- the cat ended with a glare.

_Aw come on, my jokes aren’t that bad!_

Ziggy choked the laugh in a snort, shaking his head.

-Don’t you have to work?-

_Nah. Today, my morning task is to nag you…_ Zector replied in an angelic tone that made the cat’s long ears flick.

-Why do I have the feeling that the Supervisor does not know of this… ‘ assignment’?- he asked again, lifting the visor from his muzzle and rising an eyebrow.

_Because it’s a secret one, of course_ the crocodile smirked, sitting triumphantly in the now free armchair.

-Okay, okay, you win…- the cat gave up, but with a smile. –I’m almost ready anyway- he added in a mutter, before walking to what seemed a cupboard stuck in the wall, opening it and starting the hard task to fit as many hypercaloric snack-bars as possible in the backpack. Zanille liked to repeat him that one day that stuff would kill him, but the cat did not care. With all the things that could happen in their job, icing was by far not the worst cause of death. Besides, the Pure Thought was a battle ship, and even if he’d never been inside, Zig was highly concerned with the capacity of its larder: any system had his ideal fuel, and sweets were his! Those bars were as important as his set of magnetic screwdriver’s tips.

Minutes passed in silence as he gave the last checks to the equipment, the numbers of the alarm clock shifting closer and closer to the time to leave. A silence that suited both: they could have spent those last minutes talking of serious matters, worrying about the dangers of the mission, about the Tornado, about all that could have happened in all the time Zee had been stranded, or to get angry for the 100th time at the paradox of an over-trained kid whose training still was never sufficient for what this work threw at him. But those were all things they both knew, so what point there was in dwelling?

_Whoa, I got it!_

The crocodile’s sudden shout made him turn, wide-eyed, stopping right when closing the last belt.

_Ya know why she isn’t sending me? Because I’m back-up. I mean, if she sends all the best ones in one go, and something happens… who’d come to rescue the rescuers? _

Zig just shook his head again, his paw pat-patting heavily the crocodile’s armored shoulder. Put everything in joke was Zector’s way to cope with problems, but he’d known him for too long not to guess how frustrated and upset the crocodile really was. -Must be that. Thanks for the trust, anyway, hu?…- he replied waving a salute and walking out the lab.

_Good luck, Ziggy…_

The cat didn’t stop but looked back, tired yellow eyes meeting for a moment the crocodile’s finally serious ones.

-Thanks. That’s always nice thing to have…-

_Oh, and punch that little idiot for me when you find him! So he learns to make me worry…_ the last shout reached him from the other end of the corridor. The five seconds of seriousness were off.

-I’m not good at that kind of things…let’s say we bring him back here and then you see what to do, hu?- Zig shouted back with a last smile, before adjusting the heavy backpack on his shoulders and giving a steadying breath, pushing the button that made the elevator’s door smoothly slid open.

************************

He had to thank Zec for being the first one to reach the hangar, and the ship. The first, a part for the owner of the Pure Thought, of course: there was little activity around the ‘docks’, and in the low light the General’s red cape marked the spot like a flag, the tall ant somewhat making even the ships around look smaller.

Ziggy had quickly saluted and asked for permission to start un-packing his stuff, the technician unable to mask the sparkle in his eyes at the idea of getting on board: it did not happen every day to have the opportunity to deal with advanced Outsider technology, and he felt his fingers tickle for the urge to tinker with it. But a single look of those burning golden eyes had cooled his enthusiasm. Nobody was getting on board before all the crew was reunited, apparently: probably the General had things to explain and did not want to waste time by repeating them every time for everyone. Besides, it was a matter of a couple of minutes. Nobody was going to be late.

So the cat had simply set his heavy backpack down, and waited, his yellow eyes trying to take in as much more details about the craftsmanship of that steely jewel as it was possible from outside. But the exterior surface of the Pure Thought seemed an unique piece of polished metal, no joints, no screws, leaving the tech quite puzzled: how’d they assembled it?

His observation was interrupted soon by the arrival of the second member of the crew: a short but really strong-built rat woman, that Ziggy recognized: she was an officer of district 13, a lieutenant according to the style of her armor, but more importantly, a weapon expert: he remembered dealing with her more than once during the war. She presented herself to the General too, forced to set down one of the long black cases she was carrying on her squared shoulders to salute. Zig’s long ear flicked at the faint rattling of the content, the female rat turning to him with a pointy smile, little red eyes shining among lead-black fur as she rose her visor to look at him.

_Zig, right?...Has been a while_

-Lieut. Zama…- he nodded, his eyes rising just the time to politely smile back before lowering on the case once again -... is that Dredd?-

_Oh, no, this is Riko: poor old Dredd still has that little problem to the plasma injector: remember that sound it made that time that I…_ the rat went on describing the glitch of her favorite cannon until a deep male voice with a strange accent made her trail off and turn.
The third member of the crew had arrived. The white uniform of the Corp’s medic officers made his role clear, but for the rest, Ziggy was sure he’d never seen the creature around before. Curly red hair tied in a tight braid, full black eyes deep and alien-looking, what little showed of his fur was spotted and his body had something feline, with a long tail, but his horned head and his hooved legs resembled a goat. His exotic aspect made hard to tell anything about his age or even his mood, just a great sense of composed dignity emanating from him as he bowed his head lightly instead of saluting, presenting himself.

- I salute you, General. My name is Zireo. Surgeon, and herbalist expert. I will be your field doctor: hoping that my services will never be needed-
Zig saw the rat make a strange face and gesture at the words, a peculiar wriggle of her fingers meant to chase away bad luck. The General had been about to reply or maybe ask something to the newcomer, but closed his mouth again, antennae twitching even so slightly as the fourth and last member of the little party announced herself, with a loudness that was inversely proportional to her stature:

_Warden Ziroir, reporting for duty_ the tiny cat woman saluted, before adding in a much more conversional but not less bright tone _Nice to meet you all!_

Zig smiled his automatic, placid smile in return to the other feline’s one, only to soon find out that the faces around him had remained all pretty serious. But there wasn’t much time for awkward silences after all: all eyes were pointed on the General now, the finally reunited crew awaiting for his directions.

Posted by: Zool May 3 2012, 09:40 PM
Zool kept his back turned for a second longer, laying a hand gently on the Pure Thought’s gleaming prow, like a concerned parent, checking the temperature of his child. It was hard to prevent the memories that surfaced as he stared into the mirrored, silver metal. Memories of a different crew, one who would have called this an adventure, not a mission. Even after ten years, it was impossible to remember his friends without feeling a dull ache in his chest, the hurt of an old wound, not yet healed. Regardless, he would not have chosen another ship, even with the Corps’ entire fleet at his disposal.

No echo of this sudden burst of sentiment showed in his posture or expression. He let his hand fall from the ship, and turned to face the crew the commissioner had put together for him. He knew none of them personally, though he had studied their files carefully and had no doubt that each of them were the very best in their particular fields. Zaleena would not have chosen anything less.

The last member of the team, the warden that Zaleena had instructed he give his 'special attention' was not yet present. Zool frowned and glanced at the timepiece on the wall. It was still early, so he turned his attention instead to the three before him.

Technician Zig was somewhat... Larger than Zool had imagined him being, and it was rather difficult to imagine him making even a single circuit of the track in the training ring. Even so, his medical records showed a clean bill of health, so perhaps looks were deceiving. Besides, it really didn't matter, seeing has his area of expertise was mechanics, not battle. Extremely talented, according to his file, and set for promotion any time now. In person he seemed, there was no other word for it, like a nice person. An aura of calm seemed to radiate from the cat like a purr, giving Zool the impression he would stay cool in tense situations.

Lieutenant Zama was just as he had expected her to be. A stocky, muscular woman with the look of someone who had seen many battles, and been hardened by them without letting them defeat her spirit. Her file had been incredibly brief, it seemed that outside of her skill on the battlefield, and a personal passion for guns, there really wasn't anything else to know.

Doctor Zireo was the last on the list, and the file that had been the saddest to read. He had been a civilian before the war, forcefully recruited when healers had been in short supply. Zool could see the logic in the choice, and who knew how many lives this man's hands had saved, but still, the fact that he hadn't chosen this fate remained. But who truly was the master of their own destiny? But now wasn't the time to start pondering the nature of fate.

Zool nodded calmly in response to each of their formal introductions, seeing no need to introduce himself in return. They of course, already knew his name, and there was no sense in wasting time nor words on that. Instead, he opened his mouth to give the order to board ship, but shut it again as a bright, friendly voice cut across him.

“Warden Ziroir, reporting for duty. Nice to meet you all!”

Zool blinked and turned to look at the most recent arrival. Two things about her appearance became instantly obvious, firstly she was extremely tiny, secondly, she was carrying the biggest back pack he had ever seen. He blinked again, his antenae giving another irritated twitch, before turning back to the task at hand.

“I have taken the liberty of preparing your mission briefing in writing,” he said, passing a pile of holographic paper to Technician Zig and indicating the cat should take the top one and pass the rest along. “I find that doing so is more efficient than lengthily speeches. All of you are officers with admirable experience and qualities, therefore I also see no need to insult your intelligence by explaining the importance of the task at hand. The clock is against us, people, let's move.”

As they filed on board, he held out a hand to stop Ziroir, not missing the way she almost toppled over as she hastened to come to a halt. “Warden... I find it necessary to ask, is that pack regulation?”

Posted by: Ziroir May 11 2012, 12:17 AM
So she didn’t get a fabulously warm welcome; what else was new? At least that big guy there offered her a smile, so she flashed one in return, bright and shiny as the ship they were all hovering around.

Ziroir flicked her eyes around the small circle of officers, taking note of each and drawing some initial observations. The big guy, a cat… oh! He had to be Zig, the super-smart computer guy! His name had been tossed around in conversation, here and there, and only good things. She would freely admit to having a bit of bias against the Corp’s techs, but he was far too young to have been… involved in anything she might hold against him. Plus, another kitty!

The only other woman present seemed like an easy read: with big black cases slung over her shoulder, she was obviously the demoman… or woman. It had always amused her to know that, while Zonecops weren’t supposed to disturb the other zones, they could just as easily blow holes through anything that stood in the way of the Balance. Very few other people thought of it that way, she knew; she kept the thought to herself, and the smile spread wide on her face.

To one side was an unusual figure, one her mind tripped over for a long moment. A white uniform, clearly a doctor, but not one she recognized… And she’d seen nearly all of them. He held himself so straight, so composed, that either it was bred into him or else he was determined to make a good impression. A new recruit? Possibly, but at his age? The gears turned in Ziroir’s mind, eventually spitting out the most likely conclusion: someone pulled in from the civilians, during the war against Nega. That would explain his age and his composure, and the fact that he was medically inclined would fit too.

And that left… Oh. Oh.

Some peoples’ smiles might have faltered at that moment, but Ziroir’s grew still larger. Zool. General Zool, nowadays, a far cry from when he’d first been brought to the No-Zone as a teenaged- tch, the past didn’t matter now. What did was that he was Zaleena’s pet general, a stickler for the rules to the nth degree. This is what that woman had been planning: she needed the skills of a life-stealer to get her son back, but was going to make absolutely sure that only the right rules were bent to do it.

It didn’t seem he recognized her at all, but that was just fine. No need to make the mission's challenges more complicated than they already were.

“I have taken the liberty of preparing your mission briefing in writing,” instead of offering greetings or directions, he just handed out a set of notes. How very… efficient. “I find that doing so is more efficient than lengthily speeches. All of you are officers with admirable experience and qualities, therefore I also see no need to insult your intelligence by explaining the importance of the task at hand.”

Ziroir took the papers from the woman, before passing them to the doctor. She barely glanced at them, naturally.

“The clock is against us, people, let's move.”

That’s what she wanted to hear! Less talking, more doing. The feline likely would have been first on board, if it wasn’t for the fact that she decided to stow the notes into her fully-equipped supply bag! Instead, she was last in line, which really didn’t matter; it wasn’t as though they would be competing for seats. But instead of bouncing in and grabbing the chair someone else was just about to sit in, an arm suddenly appeared and blocked her path. It was hard to stop with all that momentum going, but Ziroir managed not to tip over and land face-first in the ship’s entryway.

“Warden... I find it necessary to ask, is that pack regulation?”

She blinked up at him, regardless of the fact that her visor hid it, and smiled.

“Of course not!” Her voice was perky as ever, with no trace of discomfort at his line of questioning. “But this isn’t exactly a regulation mission, is it, sir?”

Without waiting for an answer, Ziroir bounced past the general and into the Pure Thought, quickly finding the small storage room and shedding her backpack. Already, it seemed like Zool was doing pre-flight checks to ensure everything was in working order. The ship wasn’t meant to hold much in the way of passengers; aside from the pilot and co-pilot’s chairs, there were only two small benches near the back of the cockpit. The others had already taken their places, and the feline realized that sharing a bench with Zig would be an uncomfortable experience for both of them. The space was cramped enough for such a big boy like him, without her squishing into it! That left only one option.

Worming her way past the others, she plopped herself down into the only chair available: the one right next to Zool. She flashed him her very best I’m-a-good-girl smile before wrapping the restraints around herself and snapping them in place. They were fitted for someone much taller, but after a few adjustments, they wrapped around her well enough.

Once that was settled, she turned her attention to the general again, grin still in place.

“Are we ready to go, captain?”

Posted by: The NPC Account May 28 2012, 04:36 PM
Ziggy did not really mind when he found himself alone on the right bench. He was used to sit alone, and really the seat in question was too tiny for allowing any kind of squeezing. There was barely space for his tail: short and thick as it was, he could not simply coil it neatly like most cats, and really disliked having to sit on it. He still had to struggle with the safety straps a bit, to fit them above his already stretched uniform and apron, and not to get it stuck among the tools hanging from his utility belts.

By the time he was done, the ship's engines had already activated, the walls of the cabin, so close, humming and vibrating so much it almost tickled. The cat twitched his long ears, and found himself smiling, hearing for the first time the ship's voice: it was always a pleasure to make a new acquaintance! Sadly there was no really time for introductions.

Suddenly but without hiccups, the vessel lost contact with the ground, a soft pillow of heated plasma sustaining it for few seconds before with a roll the Pure Thought started its drop from the dock into the exit tunnel.

The purple cat put an hand on his stomach to keep it in place during the free fall, but still he could not help his guts making a flip-flop when the ship decelerated and regained the horizontal position, before proceeding in its cruise with renewed speed, like a bullet loaded from a cartridge into the dark barrel of a gun.

The exit tunnel crossed the whole huge cylindrical structure of the hangars, several bulkheads dividing it in compartments. The doors opened in succession, appearing in a flash of red alarm lights and then disappearing once again in the darkness as the ship passed through them, so fast that more than once Zig thought they weren't going to make it! But the timing was actually perfect, and as the last doors opened like the diaphragm of a camera there was finally light.

Like the crown of a ring eclipse, the Warper flared of light, spitting geysers of energyfied matter into the pitch black nothingness outside. The ship's engines let out their loudest scream, as the stream of golden chaos energy adsorbed it into its depths, only the ability of the pilot preventing the Pure Thought from rolling wildly like a coaster while piercing through the portal.

Behind the orange visor Zig's feline pupils were reduced to two thin thin splits, the cat taking a long long steadying breath and covering his ears, imitated by the rat lady. The doctor seemed just puzzled by the gesture, like everyone on their first mission Outside. But Ziggy knew: the portal was collapsing, ready to kick them to gazillions of zones away. Which meant it was coming. It was a matter of seconds...it was coming...it was coming...



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