Resurrection, The Closing of a Saga

[~Nightclaw~]

(Ack, alright alright, sorry. Posting now. It's not much, but it should be enough to keep the RP moving. I was waiting on SOMEONE's alleged joint post in Astheneia. *coughScoutcough*)

T'kran's major drive for this little movement WAS indeed for the sake of Omega. Even though he was now probably a little more world-wise than he was at Alpha or Gamma stage, he was still naive, not knowing much about ouside threats. If Samus was Omega's mother, Dr. Dillard his tutor, then T'kran was most likely his protector.

Nobody layed a figner on Omega while the Pirate was around, or they'd have said finger sliced off.

"Hmm... Admiral... have you considered the possibility that certain 'people' here may have informed the authorities about our little group?" asked the Pirate in a low voice, eyeing this 'Nick' character suspiciously. "We may have cut our meeting short before we find ourselves in somewhat less than friendly company. I'd rather not kill anyone I don't have to."

[~The Boss~]

Nick glared angrily at T'Kran, though he did have to admit to himself that he was right to be thinking along those lines (though he'd never admit it to anyone else). You always had to be suspicious. Even of your friends.

"Ya heard of Jim Vega, Pal?" Nick asked. "Ya heard of Savage Henry? You're talkin' to me, you might as well be talkin' to them. And what'd I say 'bout not havin' to worry 'bout nothin'? I got ya covered. We got the local pigs by the short n' curlies."

Actually, that was a bit of an exaggeration. While it was true that back on Earth, many a law enforcement official was deep in Henry's pocket - and high ranking ones at that - here on Mars was a different story. Henry's influence, though stretching this far and even further, wasn't nearly as strong as back home. The local chief was the picture of integrity, and the only high level corruption was in the mayor's office in the form of some shady bookkeeping (something that was common knowledge among the citizens, and yet for some reason they kept re-electing him). Still, they did know a dirty cop or two who could be convinced to look the other way as they were passing by. Sometimes, one or two cops was all it took.

"So 'cmon Admiral," he said, using Narssek's title as a sign of respect. "Ya just found the briefcase full o' cash on the train. Ya gonna take it? Or ya gonna leave it for someone else?

"Oh... and I almost forgot," he continued. "Don't you worry 'bout payment neither. Ol' Jimbo, he loves guys like you. Rebels, that is. Makes him feel in touch with his inner Pancho Villa. So if you're light in the wallet, we can work somethin' out, no problem."

.........................

"...and with parts and labor that'll all come out to fifteen five twenty-five."

The short mechanic, the one named Eliot, printed out their bill and handed it to Cottonmouth. He was only about 5'4", in the pirate's estimation, but he was built like a Greek God. That was the thing about humans, they came in all shapes and sizes, some of them completely defying logic. In fact, there was probably more natural physical variety in humanity than in any other race. Not to mention their nearly innumerable languages, religions, and cultures.

Cottonmouth looked over the bill, noting every one of the various charges and adding them up mentally. While $15,525 may have seemed like an exorbitant sum, it was actually less than he had anticipated. Perhaps the fact that they were doing business with pirates had intimidated Eliot, though he didn't look it. Or perhaps they merely had the good fortune of finding the only honest mechanics in the system. Whatever the reason, he was not about to complain. He punched in a few numbers on Eliot's keypad to execute the electronic credit transfer (from the crew's Swiss bank account, which Jimmy had help them set up; he didn't understand why every Zebesian crew didn't have one of those), and then Eliot actually shook his hand.

He pondered the man's strange attitude as he walked back to his ship. That was another thing about humans... they were often very surprising. In fact, this entire trip the people had been rather accommodating to them. Again, it could have merely been out of fear, though Cottonmouth would have sensed it, and he did not sense much fear around him. More likely they simply understood that the pirates intended no aggression. Humans were quite reasonable creatures, and he greatly admired that trait in them.

Reasonable... unlike so many of us...

As soon as the hatch closed behind him, Cottonmouth gave the order to take off. The engines fired up, and in the space of a few minutes, they had launched from the station and were en route to Mars. It would take them a day or two to get to the planet, depending on how hard they pushed (or if there were complications from the Feds... one group of humans he most definitely did not admire), so he took the time to get in touch with Jimmy again.

Vega was still at home, still lounging around, only now he had managed to throw an unbuttoned beach shirt on. Behind him, Cottonmouth could see the scantily-clad girl lying on the couch smoking a cigarette. Grace, she called herself, if he remembered correctly. He did remember that everyone else called her Grey Fox, a name she almost never used herself.

"Looks like the deal's on, at least tentatively," Jimmy said. "I got Nick down there, he's tryin' to convince them, and so far things look good."

"Excellent," Cottonmouth replied. "For his sake, I hope that fool Narssek is as persuasive as you are."

"What've you got against that guy anyway?" Jimmy asked.

"It is not personal, I do not want you getting that idea. But he is a naive, ambitious dreamer. What is that phrase you use? Something about pie..."

"Pie in the sky," Grace shouted from the couch, eliciting an annoyed glare from Jimmy.

"That's it," Cottonmouth said. "He still clings to Perfection, that impossible dream our people fruitlessly chased for so long. That pursuit has ruined our species. Samus Aran in her wildest dreams could never do so much damage to us. He is right to say that we have become dependent upon the machine. But what is his solution? Not to abandon this suicidal obsession, but rather to perfect it, pun absolutely intended."

Jimmy nodded, understanding his rant. Cottonmouth had talked to him at length about the subject of Perfection. His clan had long ago dismissed it as nonsense, and sought a return to the ancient ways. On their own, of course, being the most independent-minded of all the clans. Let the others destroy themselves in the quest for Perfection, they said. We'll perfect our skills and our methods rather than our bodies, something which yielded more consistent - not to mention positive - results.

And perfect they did, mostly by learning from the humans. Too often, pirates dismissed humans as weak. But while their bodies were certainly fragile, their technology was excellent, fiercely coveted by the Zebesians. And even though their weapons were mostly still based on primitive projectile technology, for pure killing power they couldn't be beat.

More importantly though, their capacity for criminality was nearly unparalleled. Among all the races in the galaxy, humans felt the least pressure to conform to their societal norms. Thus, not only did they have a greater amount of deviancy, but a long tradition of it (it also helped that the Outlaw was a well-established cultural hero). So they were very, very good at breaking the law. And they could be incredibly vicious, even to their own. All of this earned the respect and admiration of the clan, so much so that nearly every clan leader was involved with human criminals in some fashion. Some dealt with the Yakuzas, some with the drug gangs. Cottonmouth dealt with Jimmy. Along the way, knowledge was shared, and everyone became a better pirate/criminal as a result.

"He says Ridley has led us astray," Cottonmouth continued, "and he is correct. But Narssek's goals are no less a pipe dream than Ridley's"

"You know why they call 'em 'pipe dreams?'" Grace said. "Cause you gotta be high to believe them."

Jimmy again glared at her, momentarily forgetting their conversation. Cottonmouth knew of their relationship. Complicated was the word Jimmy used, but the pirate knew that such a description didn't even scratch the surface.

"Is there anyway I could convince you to take her with you?" Jimmy asked, turning back to the screen. Behind him, Grace was making an obscene gesture at him. "She's a great fighter, sneaky as hell, and you know how freakishly fast she is."

Cottonmouth chuckled, knowing it had more to do with Jimmy's desire to get her out of there than any potential benefit she may provide him and his crew. "We may have a spot for her yet," he replied.

"Well that's great news. She's just bored, that's all. And whenever she's bored - which believe me, is pretty often - she comes running straight to me. She may be a piece of ass, but she's a pain in mine."

"Chauvinist F@*ker," Grace muttered. "I can hear you, you know. I'm sitting right here."

"Yes... and therein lies the problem," Jimmy shot back. He turned back to the screen, an exasperated look on his face. "I gotta go, man. I'll talk to you when y'all get here, let you know how everything goes with Narssek."

"Very well. I will see you then."

Cottonmouth terminated the signal, reminding himself to, when he did see Jimmy again, ask him what the word "chauvinist" meant.

(OOC: Edited and expanded)

This post has been edited by The Boss on Dec 30 2007, 02:09 AM

[~RejjeN~]

Trisha... He did not know the name, but he did reckognize the human who told Omega of this Trishas fate, Twilight had been hired by him as a form of bodyguard during the cruiser before it was sabotauged and they all got stranded on a desert planet, which name he could not remember, several years ago.

But judging by the atmosphere, how Omega seemed to tense, and the look on Ben's face, as well as way he said it, made it clear that apparently Trisha had been a friend of Omega-Alpha.

Twilight turned to the group at large, keeping his focus on Omega. He tried to imagine how he would have felt if someone close to him died, but, he couldent. He had never truly had someone close to him, sure he had helped people, he had risked his life to help others despite what his instincts told him, but that was not because they were "friends", it was because it was the "right" thing to do.

He wanted to ask Omega exactly what he felt right now, because he could not even imagine the feelings that rushed through the humanoid metroid at this moment, but he also knew that is would be inappropriate, both for the situation and for the fact that Omega seemed to be... Angry.

"I'm sorry," Omega growled.

His voice seemed... Pained... Was the feeling of someone close to yourself dying... Painfull? The concept was hard for Twilight to understand, but he could tell that Omega seemed to be struggling with it as well. Twilight did not know if Omega considered him a friend or not, but he could feel that in some aspects they were similiar, and he felt drawn to the metroid.

He did not know what he should do in this situation, there were so many new sensations and feelings that he had to understand this day... But he felt he had to do something, so he took a chance. Slowly Twilight walked up beside Omega, being cautios of Samus though, he did not know what she thought of him yet. "If... If there is something I can do to help... Please, please tell me." Twilight cursed in his mind, emotional situations were hard on him for several reasons, first being he had a hard time understanding them, second being his voice unit was always in a neutral tone. He atleast hoped it would help the situation somewhat.

OOC: Ok, that was prety bad, but oh well.

[~beflexor~]

Squirt gave Adam a sweet smile, and Samus an outright death-glare when she was distracted by Ben, before giving Lorrilal a quick little tug to follow her.

As soon as they were around the corner of the allwyway the GI squatted down to the level of the Fae child.

"Is it true that we look alike?" Lorrilal asked, tilting her head and examining the older girl.

Squirt chuckled, "nah, I based my looks off of Nick really. He was the weirdest looking of the lot at the time so I had decided to see what I could do with that. Of course, I've added my own personal flair" she said, flipping her hair where it turned purple at the ends.

"So, in essence, you're Nick with breasts?"

"No!" was all the GI could manage before she burst out laughing, she thumped her back against the wall of a building and composed herself before speaking again. "Okay, okay, stop it. This isn't about me, this is about you." She paused for several seconds, slighting brushing the computer world and patching their conversation in where Adam could hear if he felt it was important. Squirt didn't want to be dishonest to Lorrilal, but this could be serious if she thought it was what she thought it was.

"Okay, tell me, what was that a little while ago, with Omega?"

The Fae blushed a deep green. "Nothing."

"I saw you, I scanned you. I've never seen you act like that before. You wouldn't lie to me, would you Lori?"

Lorrilal shrank slightly under Squirt's scrutiny. "He...he looks...nice. I mean, not nice like you and Ben are. I mean nice in a way that I really like. I want to do something for him, but I don't know what. He makes me feel funny."

"Omega?"

"Yes. Omega. He just looks to big and strong and tall, there's something about him too, something I can't quite place. He's also the last of his kind, like me."

Oh shi- Squirt cut off the last of her thought when she realized it was being transmitted along with the conversation. While she didn't want Adam to think she was panicking, she also didn't want him to know about her dawning curiosity.

Squirt ended the patch-through to the virtual world as a grin spread across her face. Yes, Omega was feeling some very hurtful emotions right now, but there were a lot of other kinds on the emotional wheel, and Lorrilal had a tendancy to put things into a livable, if not positive, perspective.

"Have you considered talking to him?" She stood up "better yet, I'll be right back."

Hey, if Squirt couldn't have her cake, she could have a piece by baking Lorrilal's.

Now where was the closest florist shop on Mars?

~

Hearing Omega made Ben feel it all over again. "I know" he said in a rough voice as he put his head in his hand.

He'd hoped the Metroid would be furious, anger was easier to cope with than sorrow. Omega seemed to be wrestling with both though. Ben would have feared for his life, he knew what the creature was capable of, but at the moment, he wasn't entirely sure whether to run, prepare to defend himself, or offer Omega a beer and a shoulder to cry on.

"She wouldn't want you to cry for her." He said, crying himself. "She wouldn't want you to....to..."

He growled and punched a wall of the alley as the image of a dozen Trisha eyes staring emptily came to him. How in the world was he going to explain them to Omega!? Why did everything come with so many strings attached that it was like a F@*king tangle of Christmas lights?

Ben's growl turned into a wail as he heard something in his hand shatter and he slid to the ground. Morbidly grateful that he had a distraction. He tore his eyes off of the grieving Omega and looked at the others in the area.

Samus, Adam, even that Ing creature he had hired once was here in an odd coincidence.

Not a single one knew Trisha.

~

"Where did these come from Spurious?"

"Aquired legally I assure you!" Squirt said, doing her best impression of Ben as possible. "Okay, I found them at the front of someone's house when I realized I have no money, I can't, it'd all be virtual, anything on me has to be virtual so I can come and go as I please."

"And this box?"

"Eh..." it was Squirt's turn to look embarassed. "Those are chocolate candies. A lot of the mangas I read show one human giving another cut flowers and a box of candies."

"Neither of us are human" Lorrilal said, idicating herself and Omega. "Neither are you."

"Just roll with me here."

"Is it appropriate to do this when he is currently...feeling another way?"

"Look, what you're about to do may be all velvety on the surface, but right now Omega needs someone. Ben's never been the most stable of people to go to, I'm a little bit of a nutcase myself, and his mother..." Squirt gagged when she pronounced her name. "Samus, is a self-righteous, PMSing, Falcon-stealing B!*ch."

"What?"

"Huh?"

"That last thing you said."

"PMSing?"

"No, after that, but before your accusation of her being a female canine."

"I didn't say anything between those. Anyway" she pushed Lorrilal back into the alley before the girl could inquire further. "Go to him, he needs someone."

Lorrilal stepped up to Omega and set the flowers and chocolates down beside him. "Those are for you." She said before she wrapped her arms around Omega's waist in a hug. "Trisha was my sister, she could almost understand the things I did. I'm sorry Omega."

[+CEMP+]

(OOC: Wha? I don't see what's so bad about your post RejjeN. You wrote well from my standpoint)

Jenosa observed with a minor queer look at how the alleyway was suddenly becoming a convention of, mostly, unusual people. And I'm one of the new members, she thought sarcastically but truthfully to herself. How true it was in how she was suddenly like every one in this little alley, a fact that still made her feel slightly uncomfortable.

Just like how a certain portion of 'normal' people would form a group, like a kind of club, misfits - cringing at the mention of the word - would group with one another as well. It was like this Mother Nature law that occurred in every single society of sentient beings.

And to think she had just been a regular human being before. A professional bounty hunter, yes, but a regular human being nonetheless; now she was this. A lot of people seemed to have the choice of fitting in with a regular society or creating a completely different life. They made all sorts of choices that put the down different paths, some which you couldn't go back down.

She had went down a particular path by her own choice, a choice she had made in her youth, and it was the path of her profession. A life of a bounty hunter; which she had been warned it had never been truly a strait line. She had never truly understood the meaning of that advice bestowed on her from a longtime ago, at least not until now.

Yes, she understood that there could be surprises around any corner, especially on the job. Plans never went as you wanted them, and you always had to be ready to make changes - to be have enough wit to adapt to situations on the fly. She understood all of that, but underneath those words she had the vague idea there was a double meaning.

She had heard this advice during her younger, streetwise days. She had been too inexperienced during then to give any huge amount of thoughts to this vague feeling, and purely dismissed as though it was her imagination playing tricks on her. She had been too energetic, too compulsively active during then to sit down and think, not liking to stay in one place for too long.

The irony was now she could be constantly active for up to three days; an irony that, again, she had distaste in. Why? Because when you had energy in you, you had the urge to expend and get rid of that energy, eventually feeling tired in a very good way. As of now, she could expend a lot of her energy, but, and although it was not entirely energetic, you did get that sweet feeling to lay down and rest. She could probably do that if she wanted to, but it just didn't feel the same.

It was again while reflecting lightly on herself that this voice from the back of her head told her, You can still live a life that's 'normal'. You don't have to get involved with these people. Leave, leave while you still can. But no matter how right it seemed, she stayed. Things were getting weirder, yes (A eerie guy made up of black energy was walking the line with her, but a girl suddenly appearing out of thin air in the claws of Omega really took the cake) but they were still accomplices with minds and...feelings.

Everything to that little voice in her head to how her life had been turned upside down was immediately forgotten when she realized Omega's pain. It brought back so many memories, but most of all, it reminded her of the Scurge itself. The Omega was like the Scurge, but only in an oddly physical sense: they were both capable of, albeit different, destruction.

But it was the difference out of the similarities that struck her. Omega had emotions and he had these...human quality's that the Scurge never had. At the same time, he reminded him of one of the undeserving scientists that had suffered in that crisis with the Scurge. She didn't know any of the big details of how they studied them, but it was like they just didn't deserve what they had coming for them.

She had read some of the logs, and it was from those she could tell the scientist lead innocent, normal lives. Normal lives that had been like hers.

Her sympathy spilled for Omega, just as it had for the few scientists that she had tried to save.

She no longer wore that smile she often had, but held a more saddened face. She looked at the saddened creature she had told to be a 'Metroid'. "Omega, I'm not really sure what to say." It felt awkward to speak to a creature like him, yet it also felt good. "I have never known this friend of yours very much, nor you at that matter. Or anyone else around here at that. But you probably know my profession, and - there was this one mission that I was sent on. It sounded simple, and all I had to do was retrieve some gadgets and techno information; yet there were people there were people there that I could have saved."

"No – I – I did try to save them, but I was always too late. It felt like no matter how much I had tried, I was unable to do anything to avert this inedible outcome. This made me feel bad because these people had friends and family like you and me, and that they would never been seen again.

She sighed, "At the very least, I can sympathize for you."

[+Aiko+]

Adam watched with trepidation. Although Samus trusted Omega, Adam had no reason to. Omega might never intentionally hurt his 'mother', but there would be literally no stopping him if he decided to lash out upon others. Even Adam wasn't entirely safe, for he was an energy being himself of sorts. When he was around Omega, he could feel the strange vacuum that seemed to surround him. It was a novel experience and one he didn't like, and it took him an eternal 10 seconds to figure out what was causing it at first. The senses of a GI were not something that came naturally to Adam.

Omega's reaction to Ben was less than reassuring. The metroid bared his teeth and narrowed his eyes, then stood between Samus and Ben. Adam was fully prepared to erect a low level forcefield around Ben to protect him, but there was little the HFI could do to defend against a full blown metroid attack. The best he could hope for was to slow Omega down until Samus could get him under control.

Fully aware that this could escalate into a situation that was far beyond anyone's ability to control, Adam made an interstellar phone call to a certain Dr. Tara Dillard Omega named as his tutor. Adam knew she was once part of the BSL research staff, and she might be able to shed some light on Omega's behavior. Understanding was the first step in prevention, after all.

Many hundreds of light years away, a telephone rang on the kitchen counter of a woman's apartment on the Randklev space station. There was a mucus-like substance pooled in her hand. It was a yellow-green, and seemed to undulate and throb slowly. Human doe-eyes stared down at it through glasses that the body no longer needed. It was an interesting sight to behold.

Something so dangerous, yet the host and symbiote came to an understanding.

Dr. Dillard sat bolt upright in her lab. It was sealed off for safety precautions due to what she was studying: herself. Ever since being introduced on a personal an intimate level to the pathogen, not only had she been developing strange symptoms of reverse memory progression, but displaying attributes of things that this parasite had come in contact with. It was a morbid curiosity, one that the parasite wanted her to explore for purposes of better understanding. And, she knew that desire was part of the scientific persona that had leaked from its predecessor: Julia Evansworth.

As she reached for the vidpad, the ooze in her palm reabsorbed itself into her epidermal layers. Caller ID on the screen failed to identify the source of the call, so she reverted to her usual self in answering.

"This is Dr. Dillard," she answered after pressing a button. Strangely, there was no video to go with the audio in reception. "How can I help you?"

"Dr. Dillard, sorry for the intrusion, but I need your advice. My name is Adam, and I'm friends with Omega and Samus. I'm calling on their behalf. Omega just learned a second ago," little did Tara know that Adam quite literally meant a second ago, "that his close friend Trisha had passed. He's acting very aggressively, and I was hoping you could help us understand what's going on in his head. The last thing we want to happen is for him to go on a blind rampage in the middle of a busy street."

"I'm sorry, Adam," she replied, though worry crept through her voice. Though she knew who he was, she didn't want to lead that on. She distinctly remembered never meeting this person. However, how it was that Adam knew Tara was another story. She began to wonder if Omega-Alpha said anything about how they're connected. "Any information on the species you're talking about is classified."

There was an audible sigh over the phone. Adam expected this, but he didn't have time to forge documents, especially since he was legally dead. "I know it's restricted, but Omega's right here. Hold on, I'll see if I can patch a line through."

There was a moment of silence while Adam concentrated on connecting the same feeds the HFI was providing him to the video phone in Tara's apartment, several Jumps away. Tara's phone suddenly lit up, oddly showing her Adam's surroundings from his eye level. Adam's head turned back on Mars, and on the Randklev Tara saw Omega standing in front of Samus. A Federation soldier in outdated armor stood nearby, along with another familiar face, Jenosa. Adam's head turned to his right, and Tara could see Ben, Squirt, and Lorillal. The view shifted back to Omega again.

"Sorry for the odd perspective," Adam continued, although it was obvious from the footage that he hadn't actually said anything, "but this is the best I can do on such short notice."

"Uh," she stuttered. It was more of a sigh than anything else. Where did this creature pick up such people? "Okay, what happened to antagonize him?"

"Ben," Adam turned his head back to the right until Ben was centered in Tara's view, "told him that one of his very close friends died. According to Samus, Omega lived with Trisha, Ben, Squirt, and Nick before he found her. I wouldn't be surprised if, in Omega's juvenile alpha state, he considered Trisha as a surrogate mother of sorts. He's not exactly acting antagonistic now, but exceedingly defensive. Ben's not known for his tact, and I'm worried that if he says or does anything slightly out of line that Omega will turn on him."

Tara inhaled slowly through her nose and tried to get a fix on the situation. She had many questions, but as fast as the answers were coming from her other consciousness, it temporarily confused her. With a shake of her head, she sat down in an office chair and kicked off to a computer terminal.

"Hold on," she huffed. "Give me a moment." Her fingers danced across the keys as she inputted her access code. The file she was looking for popped up.

"Okay, let's see. According to my notes, we only had one incident where we could study something like this. However, the data was inconclusive."

"Inconclusive or not, it's data. I don't really have time for you to read it off to me, but if you'd kindly give the user AdamM who's appearing in your network now permission to download the file that would be much appreciated. I know it sounds impolite, but I can review the information much faster by reading it myself. But, I would love to hear any additional insight you have from your own personal experiences with Omega."

“I can't allow access," she stated, "but I can give advice. All we can do is hope that this works.

"First of all, I notice his back is to Samus Aran. Considering his emotional state, he feels that she's threatened somehow. Also, his friend passing; I'd say this is his first major loss. He probably considered her part of his cell. If you're not certain that you're among his 'pack', as it were, I'd advise remaining as inobtrusive as much as possible. No one must appear aggressive or threatening to him, Samus, or any other member of his cell." Tara leaned back in her chair and ran a nervous hand through her hair as she ran over the notes in her mind while keeping in thought about how Omega-Alpha's mannerisms were.

Adam hummed in agreeable thought. "Alright, thanks. I'll do my best to keep everybody safe. Samus seems to be having a positive effect on his attitude too, so here's hoping. Thanks for the help, Doctor."

"Wait," she called out. "Try to get them to a calm and quet place. Someplace safe. Samus should do the suggestion. It appears that people are working to get him to calm down, which is good so long as they don't direct any aggression towards one another. Right now, he's probably confused. Thankfully, he's not a Gamma Stage anymore. Otherwise, you'd have a lot bigger problem to deal with, believe it or not."

"Oooh, I've seen enough of Samus's files to believe you. Trust me, I'm grateful. Alright, thanks. If you'd like I can give you a detailed report after things calm down for your own records?"

"That would be great!" Tara let a grin slip through. Despite the situation with her student in an alien form of morning, collecting data on her favorite species was always a joy for her. Anything on a new discovery relating to Metroids made her joyous, and the other side of her cringe. "Thank you very much. Good luck."

"Thanks for your help. I'll be in touch," Adam replied before the call ended. He quickly contacted Squirt, since she was the only one he could talk with discreetly.

Squirt, I just contacted a biologist who used to work with metroids. She said that Omega is on a very short fuse right now, obviously enough. We can’t have anyone acting aggressively towards another, even in jest. It could set him off. I’m worried about Ben, since he’s a loose cannon anyway. If Omega goes after him I can only protect him for so long with my HFI. If something happens, I want you to go virtual. I don’t know what happens to you if your body gets hurt and I’d rather not take the chance.

Adam shifted his weight to catch Samus’s eye. It worked. They knew each other so well that they didn’t need words to communicate meaning. With a glance, Samus understood what Adam was asking. She gently (as gently as one could with a biological rock) coaxed Omega to her, then realized it wasn’t working. She couldn’t budge him if he didn’t want to move, and he was so tense that she had no choice but to pull herself into him. She wrapped her arm around his core, careful to keep her face clear of the bone spike on his right elbow.

“Omega, losing somebody is never easy,” Samus muttered for only him to hear. “But death is a part of life. Think about what she taught you, what she did for you, and how she loved you, and she’ll live on in your memories.”

Adam kept his observations to himself, but he was honestly surprised to hear what Samus was saying. My my, becoming a ‘mother’ had really turned her sappy. He almost began to smile before he caught himself and froze the facial features on his hologram. Not having a real body was advantageous sometimes.

[+transcon+]

Everyone at the table was correct in thinking that this was a gamble. Narssek had no reason to trust this Nick fellow. Of course, he had no reason to trust T'kran, Shorena, or Z'gato. Each had motive to easily turn on Narssek.

T'kran had motive to turn based on his own admittance to having Omega-Alpha as an ally. Narssek already suspected that there was the possibility that T'kran could turn out of anger for what he did to his friend. Despite the fact that Ridley was the one who ordered it, Narssek heard the stories of many soldiers who were put on trial and convicted for following immoral orders. "Simply following orders" was never an excuse sometimes.

Arquil Shorena's position made her reasons for a possible double-cross transparent. As an ambassador to the Galactic Federation and Queen of the Garling Nation, she had a reputation to maintain. If there was a situation that arose which would call her character into question, she would have to provide deniability of her ever having open negotiations with the Zebethians.

Z'gato's was almost as transparent. With his record of serving the Zebethians on Zebes by turning against his own kind, then any track record of loyalty was nonexistent. None of these three had any reason to stick with Narssek as long as they've claimed, other than a thinly strung motive that enticed each of the three.

Narssek knew he had to keep their appetites wet enough for them to continue following them. He also hoped that a scenario would show itself that would either bond the group on a closer level, or show just exactly how important it was to remain loyal to the cause.

The Cause was important. Narssek didn't believe himself to survive to the end, but at least he wanted to make sure that his dreams weren't forgotten.

Nick was no different from any other creature. He was human, which in itself had a myriad of variables. No two humans were alike, he learned. Their propensity for art and technology was just as broad as their potential for ingenuity and wit. And, like any technology, it's not the device itself, its the mind behind it.

Narssek reminded himself of the Old Philosophies. The Pursuit of Perfection. Technology came in all forms. When many of the younger Zebethians were proposed of this, the first thing that came to their mind was Augmentation of Body. This was an idea which was only skin deep. The Philosophy was almost like a litany that rang the very fiber of one's being. Art, chemistry, mathematics, sciences....

---------------------------------------------------------------------

"Ensign Narssek," barked the commander of the Zebethian Mothership, Freefall. "You are due in med-lab. Your orders are waiting for you there. After that minor assignment is complete, you will report to hangar bay twelve for raid orders."

The young ensign followed his orders. However, en route to the med-lab, he stopped by his quarters and picked up an old book from under his bulkhead. The book was made of an unidentifiable metal with thick covers and flexibly thin pages. In it was something that was, as he was told, passed down unto him from high within his clan. The pirate had no clue as to why. The captain of the ship could've gotten it as they were all apart of the same clan. But why he ended up with it, per Council's orders, was beyond him.

Having it based on Council's decision was an honor in itself.

Thumbing through the pages, as he did so on every trip to med-lab, he couldn't shake the unmistakable feeling that it all seemed so familiar. It read almost like a scribed journal, and yet it felt more like a textbook.

"Many think that technology is a means to an end. I, however, believe it is an end to a means. I sit in my chair staring out the window seeking the answers, and three days ago, a part of that answer came. All of the science and technology in the galaxy is meaningless. One must find meaning behind it, and only then will one begin to understand the mind behind it."

The young ensign held his head up in thought before flipping to another page toward the end of the book.

"Species and cultures come and go. I have seen them through the annals of time. Everything that has come here seeks the answer to the ultimate question: 'why'. Each culture had brought with it their own technologies, arts, sciences, theories, and ideals. Many were difficult to understand. However, each had a reason for it to exist. To every society, even ours, technology should be respected as more than merely a tool. It is an extension of one's self, but only if there can be reason defining it.

Again, he paused in retrospect. He read through this before, but he continued to make sense of it all. As he read further, it seemed that who ever wrote this seemed to fall into some form of bedlam. He couldn't figure out why, other than perhaps the author was trapped somewhere and was given too much time to think. Later, he found a list of 'rules' or 'guidelines' that this author had found that worked for himself and his clan:

The body that each of us has been granted is good.

Sharpen the sword, sharpen the mind.

Never waste what has been given.

Never take what will be wasted.

Take for the good of all; keep for the good of yourself.

Change comes in all forms, change not for the sake of change, but for the sake of need.

Adapt and grow, find harmony between thought and flesh.

"Harmony between thought and flesh," Narssek mused to himself. He continued his train of thought as he set the book down back in its place and proceeded to the med-lab. 'Thought takes many forms, much like in the ways I'm thinking now. But, it took thought to come up with the technologies we've engineered and reverse-engineered. To adapt means that it's fine to augment one's self, but according to that passage, we shouldn't waste what has been given: our flesh. Harmony, thought, mind, plunder, and the meaning of it all....'

"Ensign! You're late," the booming voice called out and shattered his musings. "Take your place upon the table. I have been briefed that you have earned another augmentation credit. Orders are that you are to receive a plasma scythe."

"A plasma scythe?" Narssek repeated back at the Augmenter. "What's wrong with the one I have?"

"It's out of date. You're only going to lose another twenty-two percent of your arm to make room for the extra power cells. Don't worry. This will make you more effective."

"But," he argued innocently, "if raid casualties are kept to a minimum, there won't be a need for extra firepower. Besides, according to my records, I'm pretty handy with the one I have."

"If that's the case, you'll be just as handy with the new one, and be more effective." The Augmenter was starting to become furious at the young ensign. Never in his record showed any sign of rebellion, nor was it in the genome reports of his lineage.

"I refuse." Narssek's final word left him in the brig for the rest of that calendar year, he lost the 'privilege' of having an augmentation, and was passed over for a promotion. However, word came down from command after showing great efficiency with what tools he was granted (with the lower-end arm scythe that they originally were going to take from him), they offered to wipe his record of his transgression. They went further to commend him for not wasting equipment.

It turned out that there was a lieutenant who lost his cybernetic implant during a raid, and needed that very plasma scythe more than Ensign Narssek did during that year.

'Also,' he thought to himself, 'it turned out that old coot in the book was right after all.'

------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Ah, Nick," he said in a relaxed and jovial, smiling as best as a Zebethian could smile with their exposed jaw-like mandibles. "Relax! Relax. My colleague over here would be correct in assuming the worst of possible outcomes. We're both strangers here, after all. In fact, we all are. However, I do applaud your fiendish nose for opportunity. I can respect that. I really can.

"Please! Pull up a seat and join us. You don't need to be looming around like that. Allow me to consider you a guest here. Besides, you were gracious in ordering a round for us." If anything, Narssek was trying to get a feel for this character. He caught the gleem in Z'gato's eye. The gleem that matched T'kran's. They were both suspicious, and as well they should be. The Chozo seemed more on-guard, though. However, the old admiral was trying to keep his own suspicions under wraps while holding a jovial and political demeanor.

Besides, criminal types like this love it when they're shown respect. Narssek loves it, himself. But, one cannot shed too much respect. Its a precarious balance between respect for one's status, and respect one has earned.

"So, I think we have enough time to enjoy this final round before we head out," he mentioned to provide a deadline. "So, in the meantime Nick, perhaps you could tell us about these people you know. This, Jimmy Vega. It would be great to know a little about the person we'll be meeting. Tell me, what kind of person is this human? You say he likes 'Revolutions', eh?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Damn," Ensign A'xun muttered under his breath. He and the crewman had been redirected, per Admiral Narssek's orders, to scope out potential territories that matched the description of Vega's establishment. "What people go through to express extravagance!"

"Wasteful," Rin'tal grumbled.

"No," the ensign countered with a pointless wave of a cloaked finger. "See? There's a certain art to it. At first glance, you see gluttony. However, if you look closely, you'll see that the artificial lake there is in front of a doorway. Definitely for purposes of impedance."

"But, the doorway is glass," Rin'tal argued. "What kind of protective measure is that?"

"A vantage point," the ensign answered.

"And, sometimes a glass door is just a glass door," the crewman reminded. "Humans don't think like we do. Sure, we may eventually be dealing with an arms dealer or something, but according to my research, something like this was meant for vacations."

"Vacations?" A'xun lifted his head and looked at Rin'tal. Although they couldn't really see each other, a built in accessory to their HUD allowed them to know where the other is in proximity. "What's a vacation?"

"Something that Lieutenant Yuur tried explaining," the crewman said. "It was a word that carried through many cultures, but it didn't translate very well in this language. Think 'shore leave'."

"Oh!"

"Well, Sir, now that we've found the location, what now?"

"We back off and wait for orders. Scans show that there's nothing subversive about the place. Upload what we see to the freighter. Perhaps she could get a better scan of the area and relay better information."

"Yes, Sir." Rin'tal began the uplink and sent message with coordinates to be scanned. "I'm sure your human pet would be amused at doing something so remedial."

"She's not a pet!" the ensign countered. "We just understand each other."

"More like you two have an understanding."

"Crewman, that's enough. She's good at what she does. What's your issue with her?"

"With all due respect, Sir," Rin'tal worded carefully, "don't you find it rather funny that the admiral hired a human, and though she's really good at her job, left her alone on the freighter to monitor things? A human! Don't you find it suspicious in the least?"

"Never thought of it that way," A'xun shrugged.

"Of course not," Rin'tal grumbled.

"I'm just bearing in mind what talents she can provide. She's resourceful, knowledgeable, and talented. I can't argue with that kind of resource."

"But, the attitude?"

"Yeah," A'xun grinned. "The attitude." The both smiled secretly under their cloaking devices and retreated back behind the dunes.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

"Incoming transmission," chirped the computer in the Zebethian tongue. Somewhere in orbit, the freighter under the pirate's employ received the encrypted message Crewman Rin'tal sent.

"A'xun requests scans on the following coordinates. Location is a domicile. Potential client. Photos attached." The text was written across the screen for the acting engineer of the freighter to view.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Omega-Alpha found himself picking up Lorillal and bringing her up to his torso where she could rest her head in his shoulders. His waste was really high off the ground, and her hands barely made it around to the small of his back under the cloak. She could feel, on the way up, his nucleus casing was smooth as glass. The arms were strong and sure of themselves. She could feel the undercurrent of raw power rippling under his skin just beyond the two-dimensional layer of electromagnetic fielding. The flesh felt like carapace across his chest, but when she got to the nape of his neck, it felt finely coarse and rubbery like a reptile. All the while, he was cool like the Martian air being the cold-blooded creature he was.

And, just like that, his frustration was gone. The words were soothing the beast within. The warm and loving body upon his right arm made the demons go away. And, just as suddenly, he was surrounded by the warmth of friends. Samus could feel the same power rippling through beneath the flesh. The three arm spikes on the edge of his forearm rested against her midriff. Omega, on the other hand, felt her body heat, her flesh, her energy through those very bony protrusions. She felt nice and comforting. He just wanted to bury himself in her and forget the world at that moment.

But, there was Ben, still held in his gaze. He looked just as frustrated as Omega felt. The smell of fear lingered from him, but it wasn't fear of what the alien death machine could do to him. No. It was the fear of hurting another friend. He could see this through the body language the human exhibited. Furthermore, the human just vented and broke his wrist and hand upon the brick wall.

Humans were a strange lot, he mused momentarily. There were so many, and just as many differences in each of them. Omega never expected Ben to do that.

And, despite Twilight's monotone vocal synthesizer, Omega could read just as much into those words as the Ing's body language allowed. The dark creature was evidentially unsure of himself, however, it was still making the effort to extend itself to the Metroid's aid. He was being a friend.

And, in the end, that's all that really mattered. Omega-Alpha never felt so lucky in his life. A creature driven primarily by instinct still managed to cultivate a bond with so many different people. And, though he lost one, the rest still managed to pull through for him. The pain inside was great, and it was a confusing thing to bear, but what he learned this instant was that he didn't have to bear it alone.

He hated being alone in the first place. A hive-like cave-dwelling creature was never meant to be alone. As an Alpha Stage, he sought people and fought to make connections with them. As a Gamma Stage, he simply claimed territory; people fell under that definition. Now, as a Zeta Stage, he learned to respect them. Sure, Omega was possibly the strongest creature in the galaxy. However, true strength was in numbers.

Because of this, he certainly was the strongest creature in the galaxy... and so were his friends. Just as with any hive creature: his strength was theirs to share.

"I will never forget her," he managed to choke out whilst fighting for control. "She taught me many things. She taught me about friends, family, and many things. Without her, I wouldn't have any of you. I'd still be stuck down on that desert planet, or worse."

"Its kind of like what Jenosa said. I told her that I would save her. I told her... I told her... But, I couldn't be there for her. I didn't know.... I'm sorry. I guess I feel... weak." There. He admitted it. An animal never admits weakness, for the rest of their peers would shun them or weed them out. There must be some true kind of sentience down there in that cold, dark, man-eating monster somewhere. If there was any doubt before, what he just said was proof. And, though the lesson to be learned here wasn't complete, a strength in one's self was admitting to one's own weaknesses.

That's what true friends are for.

"Just be there for me," he finished as he turned his gaze to Twilight, though he spoke to the group as a whole. "I'll do my best to do the same. Okay?"

With a free hand, his reached up and gently grasped Samus' at the nucleus casing in his belly, and absently leaned his head back to nuzzle at Lorillal's. Instinctive reaction or thoughtful consideration; either didn't matter. The gesture was all the same.

[~DarkKnightCuron~]

"Ah, Nick," The admiral began, trying to smile. "Relax! Relax. My colleague over here would be correct in assuming the worst of possible outcomes. We're both strangers here, after all. In fact, we all are. However, I do applaud your fiendish nose for opportunity. I can respect that. I really can."

One of Z'Gato's eyebrows raised, a questioning glance at what the Admiral was doing.

"Please! Pull up a seat and join us. You don't need to be looming around like that. Allow me to consider you a guest here. Besides, you were gracious in ordering a round for us."

What was with the sudden outburst of respect for this...human? Was this another of the Admiral's political masks? Hrmph. Z'Gato never understood politics, since the universe only respected those with sheer power, and those that knew how to use it. The business end of a blaster settled things in a faster, more simple way then talking ever could.

"So, I think we have enough time to enjoy this final round before we head out." Z'Gato kept his hand near his blaster while the other grabbed the drink offered to him. If nothing else, mankind at least knew how to make drinks stout enough to hold Z'Gato's interest. He managed to take a drink of it, keeping his eyes and ears on the conversation at hand, while snapping an icecube in his mouth in two.

"So, in the meantime Nick, perhaps you could tell us about these people you know. This, Jimmy Vega. It would be great to know a little about the person we'll be meeting. Tell me, what kind of person is this human? You say he likes 'Revolutions', eh?" The Admiral said.

Or perhaps this was the admiral's way of finessing his way into the good graces of those who knew how to use power. A single line could be destroyed without a second thought, but those lines that joined and crossed together made an impenetrable web at times. Still...Z'Gato did not feel at ease with this human, though the Admiral was already taking chances by putting this motley crew together.

'You always preferred the direct approach, doing things yourself,' a voice said at the back of his mind, a voice so familiar that Z'Gato could have pieced together the individual's face and body from sheer memory, but he quickly pushed it aside. He refused to let himself be distracted when so much relied on awareness...

[+Aiko+]

The single person left to babysit the freighter wiped her hands and examined her handiwork. The ship was hardly spaceworthy when Narssek purchased it from the Randklev space station’s junkyard. As with all sensitive, high paying jobs, Greg told Aiko to handle everything. No one else on the station, or in Greg’s experience as a machine shop supervisor, was as knowledgeable and ingenious as Aiko when it came to repairing and modifying any equipment. Some of the things she engineered shouldn’t have been physically possible, yet they always worked. Her boss always wondered just where she had learned everything, but when he asked her she just gave him a smirk and a simple answer.

“Life.”

Her meeting with Narssek almost didn’t happen. An emergency two decks down had pulled her from shop just as Narssek was about to take off, yet the pirate had remained until he got to personally meet the mechanic who fixed his ship. She thought it was an odd and rather stupid request. She did, after all, do the job and then some. He may have paid through the nose for her expertise, but he certainly got more than what most mechanic’s would’ve provided for an even higher price.

In retrospect, she reasoned that Narssek wished to see her for two reasons. First, he wished to judge her face to face to see if he could trust the rather unorthodox work that allowed his ship to function above standard. That was understandable, and he wouldn’t have been the first ignorant bastard to call her down for questioning. Secondly, he wanted to size her up as chief engineer on his ship. She was rather surprised when he didn’t ask her to defend her modifications, but rather gave her a job offer. She still remembered Greg’s displeased look when she accepted, but she was intrigued.

Narssek didn’t act like the other Zebethians she had encountered since she had gained sentience, and his quiet, rebellious, almost noble demeanor stirred something within her. His scent, his actions, and more importantly the ideas he presented awoke an ancient familiarity, buried in her disjointed recollections of Before. It was very rare for her pre-sentient memories to be triggered so strongly, and she wished to encourage this particular batch into awareness.

Just as Dr. Tara Dillard wrote in her notes, this X-parasite was naturally curious.

The trip to Mars was rather eventful. The other Zebethians, while properly obedient to their commanding officer, were clearly unhappy that their chief engineer was human. However, Zebethians were far easier to understand than humans ever were for Aiko, and she knew exactly what she needed to do to be respected. She was bossy, but she’d make even the most anal Zebethian commander proud with her ruthless efficiency. The first 48 hours were annoying, filled with a lot of cursing, yelling, and tool throwing, but Aiko got her point across. Ensign A’xun was the most reasonable of the bunch, and only he seemed to understand that she only issued orders out of necessity, not out of being lazy.

She was honestly grateful that she was alone on the freighter, and not commanded by Narssek to go to the surface. Although she’d never admit it, she disliked being in the heart of the Federation almost as much as she did being on SR388 with Omega’s daughters. She inwardly mused if she had somehow given herself away and the observant old Zebethian wisely let her remain on the ship, or if keeping the engineer on the ship was normal Zebethian protocol. In the end it didn’t matter, so long as she wasn’t surrounded by humans she didn’t know.

A chime rang over the ship’s internal com, and two yellow lights blinked along the ceiling. Getting to her feet, Aiko threw a greasy cloth on the engine cowling and quickly made her way to the cockpit. She sat in comm officer Rin’tal’s chair, fully aware that she left a big grease stain on the fabric. Of all of Narssek’s crew, Ensign Rin’tal had the largest amount of the Zebethian’s dry sense of humor. She clearly remembered the time he told her to check on engine two’s radiator. The engine had been off for nearly three hours, long enough for it to be safe to take the cap off and check the coolant. Rin’tal hadn’t mentioned the compressor he installed on the line. The residual pressure in the system was enough to spray Aiko from top to bottom in antifreeze.

Rin’tal was lucky, exceedingly so, that she was used to being pranked by humans. In a former life, she wouldn’t have been so forgiving.

Flicking the proper Zebethian glyphs with two tapping fingers, she called up the message. She settled back into the chair. It tilted and lifted her, allowing her access to the controls reachable by 4 foot long Zebethian arm but well beyond her own reach. Her eyes snapped from display to display, immediately understanding the complicated pictograph language of the Zebethians. With a few more casual flicks of her wrist, she activated the ship’s internal hardware and performed the appropriate scans of the area. She started with passive sensors, not wishing to alert any unseen security devices to her presence. Once she was sure that no such devices existed, or at least the securities in place were meant to divert planetside aggressors and not orbital spies, she went ahead with the other scans.

Three hundred miles below the freighter, Rin’tal’s comm beeped.

“There are two humans inside, moderate defenses,” she said in English to be a pain in the ass. A’xun and Rin’tal both knew she could speak fluent Zebethian, another reason why she was useful to Narssek. However, it did hurt her throat after a while. Human vocal chords had trouble with the harsh, grating language. She also sounded irritated, but that was nothing new.

“I’m getting interference from the spaceport 100 kliks to your southeast, but my orbit is too far out to compensate for it. Resolution is poor, but approaching from the western side looks the most promising. I see damaged vegetation on the southern side and what looks to be a firing range. Some of the damage is significant enough to indicate RPG discharges. I recommend proceeding cautiously in full cloak or not at all. I cannot change orbit at this time without attracting unwanted attention. I’m sending you an aerial photo, along with potential defense outposts highlighted in red. Over.”

She sat impatiently in the chair, eager to get back to work instead of waiting for a response, but even she respected a priority yellow transmission when she got one.

[~beflexor~]

"Ngh" Squirt let out a little whimper as she rubbed her ears. Adam contacting her sounded really weird. She was used to being in the virtual world talking to other GIs, being in the real world and hearing him in her head wasn't right.

I don't think Ben's much in the mood for his antics. She replied, heading over to check in her friend's hand. It unnerved her to see his crestfallen expression. The guy can straighten up and be serious when things call for it, and this is for real, so I don't think we need to worry much right now.

When Adam mentioned her hiding should Omega become violent. She spin in place, a natural reaction when one was annyoed and wanted to face the person who'd done it. In the building closest to her, the lights began to flicker.

And just what is that supposed to mean? I've been sentient for six years now, I'm a big girl, I think I knooooow what I'm doing. If Omega decides to go psycho-screwball on us I think I'll be the farthest on his mind thank you very much.

"Ahh ahh" Ben said, trying to keep his voice level, his eyes flicking to Omega occasinally.

Squirt looked at him. "Oh, I'm sorry, what's wrong?"

"You're crushing my hand."

The GI relaxed her grip and looked sheepish. "Sorry, got in a bit of a tiff with Adam. I mean, what's up with him? He things he's so- hey, n- no, give me that finger."

"I would, but it's not working."

"Oh hush, you did this to yourself. Try not to sound too agitated, or Omega might get upset. With Nick gone, who took care of you guys? I'm sure with the more responsible people out of your hair you've done all sorts of things."

Ben looked at Lorrilal in Omega's arms and closed his eyes, sighing as he leaned against the wall he'd just attempted to punch a hole through. "We just continued the usual. Lori's been taking care of me more than I have her though." He reached into a pocket with his good hand and produced a cloth, which Squirt used to wrap his hand in. "It's funny really, before Enigma died, I'd always just seen her as a little girl that hid under her mother's skirts. Not even a fellow cremember, more like something that was just there all the time, like that damned toaster."

"Yeah" Squirt said, knotting off the cloth. "I have a feeling there's more to her than any of us realized."

~

Lorrilal softly muttered a string of words in a language no one in the universe but her knew now. Omega was cool to the touch, but not in a way that made her want to draw away, it was more like a cool cloth on a fevered forehead.

It felt good for someone to hold her again. Few knew her, and those that did, feared her despite what they would tell her if she brought it up. They feared her because they didn't understand her, because they had no idea what she was capable of, because they just assumed that she wanted to be left alone.

She hugged Omega tighter, feeling a sense of safety with him. This was someone she felt safe telling things. Things that others wouldn't, or didn't, understand. The Fae felt a connection with the Metroid that went far deeper than than any she had felt before. It even surpassed the connection she felt with her mother.

In Omega's arms, she felt like she was home.

[~Nightclaw~]

T'kran seemed far more comfortable now that he had his worries off his chest. Narssek was probably right about T'kran's reasons for turning on him, but the outcast knew that the old fool was just following orders like the sheep he was. The Admiral seemed to have wisened up to what he'd done, and T'kran believed he was finally on the level.

Almost reptilian face cracked into a smirk as he saw Nick's glare. "Relax, Nick, I wasn't talking about you. You never who to suspect, especially when surrounded by humans." He looked around the bar, brow furrowed in suspicion. "Any one of them could have mentioned our little gathering to the Fed police. And while - no offense to you, Lady Shorena - I don't have a problem sending those bucketheads packing, I'd rather not cause a fuss right in the Federation core."

Cracking his neck a few times, he yawned, picking up the drink he'd been served, and taking a long gulp. Grimacing a little, he swallowed hastily and put the drink down on the table. Muttering somethign under his breath, the words 'urine' and 'slop' were just about audible.

He had been watching Z'gato the whole time, raising a brow at the Chozo's hand hovering suspiciously, and his expression. Trying to keep a straight face, he burst out laughing, shaking his head in disbelief. "You worry too much, Chozo. The Admiral here is on the level, believe me, even though he's done some..." He glanced at Narssek for a moment. "...dumb things in the past."

Regaining his composure, he shook himself off. "Oh, Narssek, if the ship you've got is something built by the lowest bidder, I'll be taking my own ship. Besides, you'll need something with enough firepower to bail you out of the fire if you get attacked."

(Edited. )

[+CEMP+]

Jenosa smiled at Omega's reaction. It felt so good to have said that, and Omega's reaction only emphasized the feeling more. It wasn't just how Omega reacted to it and how she had helped him over come this pain, but it was like she had finally gotten something off of her shoulders. Well, at least partially - she had made an indirect mention to that 'job' of hers.

Under most circumstances, she was paid under contract to keep her trap shut about the missions she did. This went from where the mission took place, to who or what she fought, and all sorts of other confidential information. It was like the jobs that she did were non-existent.

She did this fairly easily, and rarely breathed a word of what she knew; the few phrases that she spoke were, again, indirect here and there. Some of her friends didn't even know she was a bounty hunter, though some could be considered more acquaintances that actual friends. It wasn't like she was normally bothered by her experiences on her jobs, and it was like she even forgot about them on occasions.

However, she had gone through a lot in that single job on a planet called Inos; too much to forget. It had always stuck out somewhere in the back of her mind, and no matter how much she tried, even on that vacation of hers, it always managed to poke at her conscious. Maybe it had something to do with how the mind of the Source got into her, but that mission had been so different from any other one she had been on. It just wasn’t like those jobs that she had done in the past; something that she tossed behind her back like it had never happened.

It was just too much for her not to tell. Hell, she had told someone: Tara Dillard, and it was only through ‘working’ with her that she trusted telling her any information regarding her mission. Or, more preferably, her condition.

Her emotions were a part of that story. At first, she was just entirely interested in the money. She had been simply told to look for any data and experimental technology that could be salvaged; she had never been asked to do a search and rescue mission, and as far as she was concerned at that time, she wanted to get the job done and over with.

But one thing came after another, and it was hearing other people’s voices of distress that touched her ever so lightly knowing that everyone single personnel that was still alive on that planet, in that mess, cared for each other like friends. It was through them and the few logs the dead left behind that let her know this, and it was this touch that affected her deeper and deeper as the crisis grew bigger and bigger.

Millions of people could have been ‘affected’ if she had not done what she had done, and the many scientists that tried to stop the event from escalating would have died in vain. She had done something she had never expected to do, and although she wasn’t looking for a model, she, in the end, was glad she had accomplished her job with a completely different priority. Even if it had come at a cost.

Perhaps it was how she trusted these people that made her feel more comfortable in telling them, directly or indirectly, her experience. Now, this didn’t mean she was all of sudden going to go on a spiel about the Scurge, and far from it, in fact. To do that as though she was just socializing didn’t seem right at all; she wanted to have a reason for telling, just like she had for telling Tara.

Just as she was admiring the moment, she realized that this particular alley way was receiving a bit too many glances from people passing by. She even got the slight, nagging feeling that there was this strange energy signature being emitted somewhere from up top all of sudden. She looked up only to see nothing, yet, once again, the light, or her eyes, had momentarily played tricks on her. A purple hue once again appeared near the edge of the high roofs, and although it was brief, she swore it was the strangest light imprint that she had ever witnessed.

(OOC: Please notify me if I've this is actually what the cloaked Ki Hunter is supposed to be doing. I might have misunderstood with all the other detail I'm chowing down).

She only stared a for a few more seconds, waiting to see if the strange color would come back, and, having failed to, she turned to Samus, but spoke as though she was speaking to the group in general. “I’d really” – straining the word ‘really’ – “hate to interrupt all of this, but we’re starting to look like a convention in this alley way; one that’s attracting a little too much attention for my liking. Could we opt for a more…secluded area?”

This post has been edited by CEMP on Jan 3 2008, 09:32 PM

[~The Boss~]

"Here, try this on."

Jimmy handed Grace an old black Shock Trooper helmet that had once been a part of a full armored suit, but was now the only piece left that hadn't been sold off. He could probably sell it too, but he sometimes used it while on his motorcycle. It also came in handy in other situations as well.

"What the hell do I need this for?" Grace asked, looking at the thing as if were a two-headed puppy.

"You're gonna need the extra protection," Jimmy replied. "This Ridley ain't no cream puff, you know. He'll literally tear you in half easy as he can sneeze."

Grace sighed and glared at Jimmy. "And just what in the hell makes you think I'm actually going along with this?" she said.

"C'mon, how long has it been since you had some decent work? Aren't you itching for some adventure? Ain't this the kind of thing you mercenary types live for?"

"Not really. I'd much rather go skinny dipping in the lake."

"Well you can do that when you get back."

"Jimmy," Grace said, using that unmistakable tone that every woman had in their arsenal. "You can't just hand me off like this. I'm not one of your bimbos."

"Of course you're not. They actually listen."

Grace could only shake her head. All morning long, it had been Jimmy who was growing ever more frustrated. Now it was her turn as she endured his attempts to get rid of her. Even worse, he was trying to dress it up, make it sound like she should be excited to have an opportunity like this. He should know better than that.

She relented to his demand though, and put on the helmet. She hated wearing armor. It slowed her down and hindered her movements. Since her combat style was predicated more on speed and mobility than brute force, she would sooner go without the heavy suits, regardless of the potential benefits. Helmets in particular were an annoyance. She found them generally uncomfortable, and the HUDs hurt her eyes, like she was sitting too close to the TV.

Grace took a look at herself in the mirror. She looked positively goofy, half-dressed as she was with that big helmet on her head. She turned to Jimmy with her shoulders slumped as if to say "you have got to be kidding me."

"Does it fit?" Jimmy asked.

"Kiss my ass." Still, Grace switched on the visor, just to make sure it worked. The HUD flashed across the visor, and she immediately squinted. She switched to thermal vision, which was in good working order as well.

She was about to remove the bulky thing, when she saw something in the corner of her vision. Grace turned to the window and saw two heat signatures outside of the house. She turned off the visor and saw nothing out there. She turned it back on, and there they were.

"Uhh... Jimmy? We're being watched. There's two guys out there, and they've got cloaking devices."

"Of course we're being watched," Jimmy said, rummaging through the closet in search of some spare ammo clips he had stashed in there. "I'm the second highest ranking member of one of the most powerful criminal organizations in the galaxy. I would think that warrants some federal surveillance."

"Actually... they kinda look like pirates."

"Even better. Probably some of Narssek's boys, sent down here to scope out the place, make sure it ain't a trap."

"You don't sound too concerned."

"I'm not."

Grace was about to retort, but she had to admit that she wasn't all that concerned either. They seemed only to be watching. And even if they were gonna try something, two guys weren't much of a threat to her. Even pirates.

She took off the helmet and tossed it on the bed. "Alright, listen up," she said. "If I'm gonna join up with this rebellion, you're gonna have to do something for me."

"Forget it," Jimmy snapped, emerging from the closet with the clips in hand. "I've already done plenty of that this week. Makes my jaw sore."

She blinked at him, dumbstruck. "Okay, that is not what I'm talking about. Although... I wouldn't necessarily object if you did." She grinned at him. "What I really want though is you to help me braid my hair."

"What?"

"Yeah. I wanna put it into corn rows."

"What the hell for?"

"Cause it gets all tangled up in helmets. I would just put it in a bun, but I look ridiculous like that."

"What makes you think I know how to do corn rows?"

"Cause I remember a long time ago when you and Ronnie did y'all's hair like that and bragged about how you did it yourselves. Now come on, the sooner we get started, the sooner we'll finish."

..............................

"So, I think we have enough time to enjoy this final round before we head out. So, in the meantime Nick, perhaps you could tell us about these people you know. This, Jimmy Vega. It would be great to know a little about the person we'll be meeting. Tell me, what kind of person is this human? You say he likes 'Revolutions', eh?"

Nick downed the last of his beer and let out a belch that, on a scale of one to ten, would rate about a seven. While Jimmy was all about class and taste, Nick was anything but. He was a hick and proud of it.

"Y'know, I'm surprised a guy like you ain't never heard of Jimmy. He's only been one of the most wanted men in the galaxy for the past decade. Hell, all you gotta do is run his name in a federal database and you'll learn all you need to know. Probably see my pretty face in there too.

"Anyway, we gonna sit here and talk all day? Or we gonna make a deal?"

[+Aiko+]

(OOC: Whoever posts next (preferably Transcon), please open a new thread for this RP in the new forum! I'd like to lock down this forum as soon as I can. Thanks!)

[+transcon+]

(OOC: Thread Closed. Moved topic to the new site. I'm hoping Aiko will have the HTML Backup linked in there for reference.)