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Fractured Stars

rengadeirishman

rengadeirishman

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The great sheet of purple was full with the brilliance of not less then 1.7 million stars scattered throughout netherspace. Alleron Ta'amarna stood near the transparent plasma shield that functioned as a window here on Port Daggerfang and looked out at the majesty of the massive nebula which folded the port in its cold embrace. His squire, Ivan Horatio, approached him and tapped his shoulder.

"Master..."
"I know Ivan, i merely pray that we are truly doing whats right."
"Is there something wrong master?"
"It is nothing, come let's do what we came here to do."

He turned, his cape swishing behind him, and strode off into the frenzied activity of the Port.

He needed more warriors.
 
Nimm wrapped himself in the illusion that his Altur'zek spiritual up bringing he could feel it something bug was coming. To anyone observing him he would look like just another human traveler. Daggerfang was a free port but mostly humans passed through the massive station.

He observed a large armored human and began to trial him at a distance he could follow later when the human ha boarded his ship. Unlike many of the Altur'zek he had a keen interest in there enemy. He moved silently blending into the crowds of humans and aliens.
 
Arimous sat at the bar, drinking his favorite, just like usual in Daggerport. The Keep strolled by, refilling his glass.

'You seem in a better mood then yesterday boy.' The keep said. He was right, Arimous was in a slightly better mood.

'Let's just say that I have taken care of some unfinished buisness.' Arimous replied. Which he had.

A man approached Arimous, wearing a long brown robe. 'For your services. Just as negotiated.' The man said, handing Arimous a satchel. The price he had asked for when taking the job.

'Thank you good sir, now, if you'll excuse me, I have some 'celebration' to attend to.' Arimous said, and went back to drinking. The robed man left, without ever mentioning his name to wondering hitman.
 
Merchant of Karina (#137)

IC: A merchant stroke his long whiskers a few times eying the crowd. He was looking for a particular kind of costumer, the kind who was wealthy but did not know it, the kind who would be interested in his frozen treasure, the kind who could make practical decisions based on an ageless wisdom of war, the kind he could exploit for those exact reasons, the kind that likes to wear a long flowing cape...

The Ratman rubbed his teeth polishing them with an instinct evolution forgot. He onced over his hair, dropped to all fours, and ran up to the soldier. Standing in front of him he rose to his full height which is still short by most species standards.

"You sir can not go any further. I have for you the deal of a lifetime, a find so rare that only two people here can possibly appreciate it, and I don't like the other guy. So you are in luck able to buy this item at a discount, but of coarse I could always sell it to the other one. But I trust an experienced soldier like you has an appreciation for it now. You do appreciate technology don't you, especially that of the Altur'zek. After all I would hate to sell such a rare find back to the them. So please come with me and I can show you, show you what they dubbed #137, or as I call it... Well no let me simply show it."
 
Invesitating

Liara sat in her quarters, reviewing the latest crew manifest. There had been two new additions, both replacing a pair of expecting mothers, when the Com chimed.

"Capitan, we're 5 minutes out from the Natirai System."

It was Joker, her helmsman. Joker was easily the most unusual member of her crew, he was human. Joker was part of an exchange program between the Alliance and the Republics. She had had serious reservations about having him onboard. Not only did he not have psionics, which would have prevented an asari from military service out side of cooking or janitorial duty, but he was a cripple. He had a extremely rare disease that eluded all modern medical treatment, causing his leg bones to be extremely brittle, one wrong move and Crack! Worse, his body rejected artificial replacements. Once she saw him in action, however, she understood why he was in the Alliance navy. As he would say, "Yeah, I can make the Silence dance. But just don't ask me to get up and dance unless you like the sound of bones cracking and people screaming."

"Thanks, Joker."

"No problem ma'am."

She turned off her terminal, and headed to C&C.

She watched the display as they broke into the Natiari System.

"Engage stealth mode. Passive scanners to maximum. Com, are we picking up any chatter?"

"No com signals detected."

"Nothing on passive ma'am"

"This doesn't feel right," someone said.

"No it doesn't. Joker, take us in quiet." she said.
 
Huptmann stood in the cargo hold of the cutter Resolution as it slowly and gracefully pulled in to one of Port Daggerfang's light loading bays. He wasn't really paying attention. His mind was wandering back to a few days ago on the very same ship. In the very same spot, even. But for another purpose. The Resolution had been attacked by a small ship. One that belonged to one of the multitude of pirate organisations that seemed to spring up no matter where you went. Didn't really matter which one. Pirates obviously thaught that owners of Python class cutters didn't have much security. In this case, they were wrong. The haul they liberated from the pirates proved that...

The simultanious dull thud of heavy metal on metal, and sudden shake announced that the ship had landed, and that his contract had expired. With a hiss of pistons came a shaft of glowglobe light, and the cargobay door dropped open. Huptmann strode out of the vessel, the heavy metal of his environment suit's boots making each footstep plainly audable. He flipped open the visor of his helmet and breathed in deep. Space station air always seemed so fresh compared to his suit's recycled supply. That would pass, soon enough.

Only one thing played on his mind right now. And that was that heneeded a drink. The cutter's captain would electronically transfer the rest of his fee to one of the accounts he had been laft with. If he didn't, well, Huptmann might just go looking to forcable aquire himself a new ship. Probably a Python class cutter...
 
Zeke Durran sat in the bar he hated the least in the city of Port Daggerfang. He had been through far too many battles to find city life enjoyable anymore.

Zeke was sitting at his own table, nursing a drink while he watched the other patrons coming and going. How long he had been there he didn't quite know, and didn't care. He was waiting for somebody. Zeke was a soldier practically from birth, and he could think of nothing else he would rather be doing right now, except for starting a bar fight. He had told the man who would be coming to recruit him that he would be wearing a pure black cloak, which was necessary to hide his "unique features".

Zeke had had his second pair of arms for quite some time, but he still found them odd sometimes. It felt wierd to have 4 hands to think about. Worse yet his lower elbows were starting to cramp from being held firmly against his stomach so as to avoid attention. The last time Zeke had caught a person leering or staring at his four arms had not ended well for that man, so Zeke found it easier to just hide them.

And so he waited...
 
Alleron looked down at the diminuitive xenos and considered batting him aside, but he remembered that it entails murder and would not help his cause of discretion.

"What do you desire to show me rodent?" he growled
 
Arimous had his drink in hand, and turned from the barkeep, facing the doors. He thought about the last time he sat there, as the hooded man came through. A religious man, who needed work to be done, that a religious man could not do himself. It wasn't the first time Arimous had to do the dirty-work of religion.

Actually, in his short life, there had been three men who came to him for his services. They were all the same. "We need you to purify." They would tell him. He would laugh each time. He believed that they ALL needed purification.

This last one was different. It was not one man that had to be taken care of, but three. It wasn't the first time Arimous had to take out three people, but it was the first time asked by someone like him.

"Purification. Yeah, right." Arimous said to himself as he took a drink from his glass.
 
Rodent

IC: "I only wish to show you a piece of the most valuable merchandise for your profesion. A rareity in any location and daublely o in your home land. I just so happen to have it in my possesion. But I suggest speed in your purchase because even I can only hold onto it for so long. Bussiness you understand."

Upon seeing the unmoved face of his potential client. He moved on. "I have a space pop containing an Altur'zek that has been... enhanced. The technlogy is beyond my mines to try and recreate, but for some one with your resources it should be simple enough, just a matter of time."

"Are you interested in buying it?"
 
Huptmann strode quickly through the busy spaceport, barging anyone out of his way who didn't move of their own accord. Beutiful thing about penal legion armour - it made you look bigger and tougher than might be the case. Of course, Huptmann himself with tough enough without the armour. Constant physical missions do that.

After a short journey, he reached the bar and, without a moment's hesitation, stepped inside.

There were alot of people seated around tables and the bar itsself, and the bar itsself seemed realativly well-kept. At least the possability of getting into a fight in here was slim. Huptmann walked over to the bar and raised the visor of his helmet. "Gimmie a Bhall Gutbuster" The barman nodded and handed over his drink. Huptmann downed it in one. It was exactly as he remembered. Powerful, with an awful taste that defied description. But, it was addictive, and he was hooked. "..Another"
 
Rat man

IC: "My price is resonable enough, or should be. As a knight you have access to several items that are rare here. I could take a tacyon emmiter like the ones used for ship sheilds or perhaps a few cores from plasma generators of atleast 2 gigaguavs, and as a soldier you could always aquire slaves for me. Or perhaps you can make an offer yourself."

"As for how I came across it, merchants auire goods in two manners; luck and sources. I am afraid I must keep my sources secret unless they become every ones sources."
 
Arimous watched as a man walked in and sat next to him. The man lifted up his visor, and asked for a drink. Arimous laughed a little. He knew the drink, and thought it rediculous to drink. Horrible taste.

Arimous liked his sugar water that he held in his hand much better. Alcohol was disgusting, and he laughed as he saw baboons drink until they dropped. He asked the keep for another one, setting his glass down on the bar.
 
The colony was gone. There was nothing left but ruins and charred corpses. Whoever did this stripped the place of anything worth looting or salvaging. It took every ounce of self control she had to suppress her urge to vomit at the sight of dead mothers and their daughters. Some of her team couldn't help but hurl. The enemy had also methodically removed anything that could be used to identify them beyond the types of weapons used.

Whoever did this would pay dearly.

"Ma'am," one of her team stood beside her, "initial analysis indicates it was Reapers, one of the larger, better armed, and better organized groups."

She nodded, "Prepare a funeral pyre. Let us send their bodies to join their spirits with the Mother Goddess."
 
The grey merchants were selling Asari goods which was odd because many looked like private goods the Asari would never sell. “Where did you get this” he asks grabbing the man’s hand. The illegal merchant signaled his friend who stepped over trying to pry of his hand. He motioned to the man who fell to his knees no damage could be seen the other man looked. “Entierro Pira there a bunch of reapers who went nuts and began worshiping death” I let the man go confiscating his wears. "leave now with youre life"
 
He considered killing the pathetic xenos, but decided against it.
"Terribilitas grade Heavy power cell and 500 marks." he offered
 
Ratman

IC: The merchant stroke his whiskers in mock consideration. The rat had full intentions of haggling with the soldier but truth was his first bid was about what he had hoped to receive, so instead he was considering weather or not it was wise to risk angering a comparatively invincible soldier over greed.

"Alright that will do, but it is only because I prefer the empire over her competitors." The ratman turned and motioned to fllow him. He then led the knight to his purchase kept in his basement.

There was a blue light shineing threw the clear ice at the front of the pod displaying the youthful form of the slender alien inside. "You need to suply your own grav lift to move the pod out."
 
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Liara had just informed the Council of the complete loss of the colony. The Council stood before her in the briefing room's holoprojector. Matriarch Clearis, broke down into sobs. Her youngest child had been the chief medical officer for the colony. Matriarch Rei moved to comfort her.

"This is unacceptable." Matriarch Uweniss said.

"Commander, you are to find these monsters and eliminate them." said Matriarch Verialis her voice quivering with anger.

"We will dispatch additional forces to the worlds in the area." added Uweniss.

"They will pay." Liara replied.

"We will dispatch word of the attack and a request for any information, good luck." Then they closed the link.

Liara activate her com to the Com officer, "Fire up the com, I'm going to be placing a few calls to some informants."
 
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Huptmann quickly finished off another two glasses, slamming each one onto the bar in mock triumph. Four was a good number of drinks for him. Any more and he wouls be slow in his responses. Any less, and he just wouldn't feel like he was having fun. Of course, alcohol was no much compare to combat drugs for the kick they deliver, but they had some serious side-effects, so he didn't use them much.

Swivelling around on his seat, Huptmann leaned back against the bar and stared out at the assembled patrons. A good mix of species and professions here. Could mean big things
 
Alleron merely nodded, handing over the money, "You will follow me to recieve the rest of your price. Ivan, grab the other side." he said. Ivan obeyed and together they carried the pod out. Ivan went off to secure them a grav cart and returned before long. Together they lifted it up and onto the cart, and Ivan led the ratman to the ship for the remainder of his payment.

Alleron spied a bar nearby, and headed toward it.

He still needed warriors.
 
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