Faction Interlude: Refraction Point [Darkwire]

[Darkwire Prophet]

Previously on Darkwire...

"Here's the location of the factory along with the building's blueprints. Of course, what you do with this information is up to you. Keep in mind that CorpSec will deny that this briefing ever occurred if news were to get out. CorpSec, however, would consider pursuing this information as a personal favor. You give us clear evidence that you participate in any significant action against this facility, and CorpSec will consider your criminal records to be wiped. A clean slate. Whatever you do, good luck."

and now the continuation:

“Last night there was an assault on a Starlight Industries Manufacturing Plant in District 5, perpetrated by what CorpSec Authorities believe to be evidence of a Darkwire terrorist attack. We have a CorpSec representative on scene to discuss her findings. Captain Kadora'Tra , what can you tell us about this most recent and brazen attack on such an important Corporate asset?”

"I can't say much due to proprietary information held by Starlight Industries, but we’ve investigated the possibility of an informant, possibly a current or former employee of the company, feeding building schematics to the criminal network leading up to the attack. We haven't found the motives yet, but we suspect they were after corporate secrets specific to the facility. Luckily, our CorpSec division within Starlight Industries were able to uncover the source of the leak and neutralize it.”

“To what level was the facility damaged, and were any of the perpetrators caught?”

“We have evidence to believe a large number of Darkwire actors were killed in the action, but it seems they’ve recovered their dead after the fugitives fled. Ultimately the facility suffered heavy damage, but thanks to a private security firm hired out from the Mandalorian Union, the damage was mitigated to non-essential manufacturing sections; I’m told it should resume operation within the week. Unfortunately, I am not at liberty to discuss any further, but if anyone has any leads to the whereabouts of Darkwire members associated with the attack or the organization itself, we ask that they step forward to receive compensation."

"Am I to understand that you are putting up a bounty on these individuals?"

"That is accurate, but it is to be information only. CorpSec will deal with this threat directly before we let any outsiders-"​

The Shadowrunner cut the news broadcast in the middle of the Farghul's speech, sitting in a dingy apartment within Suicide Slums that they called home. Empty food cartons lay strewn about the room, picked clean by their hand or the rodents who claimed equal tenancy of the place. The half-finished bottle of low-end Kyrf was the Shadowrunner's alone, the rodents wanted little to do with the liquor, and the Shadowrunner was just fine with that.

There was little for them to do once the bottle was finished.

They had no more creds in their account. The last voucher had expired a week ago, and that was close to the last time they had a real meal. The jobs had all dried up, the dreams were dead. Now all that was left for the Shadowrunner was their mostly comfortable chair, the rest of the liquor bottle, and silence.

A tone cut through the silence, blaring loud in the otherwise quiet abode. The Shadowrunner reached over to their datapad to shut it off, but an eye caught the screen. With a wistful sigh, they picked it up. Another CryptNet message, probably just one of the automated rejection notices as their 'job wanted' posting expired. Expecting to flick it away the moment it appeared, the Shadowrunner's finger hovered over the message instead.

It was a message sent to all Shadowrunners via the CryptNet:

...\\\REMEMBER YOUR INK. RECONNECT YOUR FUTURE. REALITY IS FLAWED.

MISSION COMPLETE: THE MIRROR LOOKS BACK
NEW MISSION ADDED: BREAKING THE MIRROR
NEW OBJECTIVE ADDED: MEETING THE ARTISTS

• Visit a Tattoo Parlor (Optional)
• Get and/or activate your Darkwire Tattoo
• Meet the other Shadowrunners
• Deliver the data

Spoiler: Tags

Anakin Stormrunner
Daiya
Doc Painless
Cartri Keswoll
Cassus Akovin
Gray Venasir
Kade
M-XIII
Malen
Niki Priddy
Noah Gloom
Phalsi Drynchen
Ripley Kühn
Rosath
Ruby Jaxx
Spark
Venku Bralor
Xan Deesa
Yula Perl
Zamas Nall
Zo'i Prihm

 

[Daiya]

"OWW!" Daiya shrieked, trying to jerk her head away from the pain. The tattoo artist held the girl fast in gloved hands, apparently practiced at the art of keeping her customers still enough for the process. Without leeway to move, the girl was forced to endure, her bottom pushed out from downturned lips in an obvious expression of pain. The woman behind her was focused on the helix of her ear, where Daiya was getting a brand new tattoo applied, and the teen decided she needed a reminder, "That hurts!"

"It's going to hurt more if you move, 'cause then we start over," the big Mirialan woman pointed out. She held up a bigger needle, "And this is how we fix the mistakes."

"Fine." It wasn't what the girl wanted to hear, but her eyes widened at the implied threat. She bit her lip, at least glad she was facing the wall and not in view of another customer of the shop who had just walked in. A certain bounty hunter who went by the notorious Pool Boy in her mind.

He came in, wearing the same drab outfit with the armor and the mask. With all the coincidences in these meetings she's had with him, she was starting to feel like maybe the Bounty Hunter was tracking her down the same way he would a mark, much to her irritation.

"You shouldn't grit your teeth like that, it's bad for you." The boy commented annoyingly.

"Well, we don't all have the luxury of hiding our feelings behind a mask like you, Cassus," Daiya shot back. She whimpered again as the tattoo artist moved the needle, and it passed over a more sensitive area than earlier.

"Hey kid, can't you read the sign? We're closed. This is my last one." The artist said, gesturing with her head towards Daiya's ear.

"I need Ink to remember. I'm told you can provide." The artist acknowledged the restatement of the CryptNet broadcast to Darkwire with rolled eyes and a gesture towards a seat.

"You know, that scrunched up look is working for you," The boy joked at her as he waited, "Definitely going to scare some Corpo slimo some day."

Daiya actually giggled at the boy's remark, and jerked as the woman behind her grabbed her head again. "Sorry," she offered. The girl heard some muttering, but she was too focused on Cassus. He always had to show up at the wrong time! And just to add insult to her —quite literal this time— injury, he actually made her laugh. She was supposed to be annoyed with him most of the time, not giddy. "I kind of wish it would scare you. Can't you see I'm busy?"

"Hmm," There was a short exhale she heard that almost sounded like a lazy laugh from Cassus, and Daiya could almost imagine a smirk under his mask. But then, nothing. He was just silent, and watching, arms crossed and barely moving. The awkwardness seemed to stretch on, until suddenly that painful needle seemed to withdraw from the last time.

"Alright princess, despite yourself I've finished your ink without needing any adjustments. Give it a couple minutes to calibrate to your cells and you'll be good to go." The artist smiled and patted Daiya as she rose from the seat. "You're next bucket face, helmet off." She gestured over to Cassus who stopped leaning against a wall and approached them.

"Why, it's not like I'm getting it on my fa-"

BLAM

Daiya stared at Cassus' head as she leaned against the side of a chair, her arms folded as she waited for him to be done. She blinked, and in that instant his head blew open and split apart. The moment struck her with shock, and the girl swore she felt her heart actually stop for a split second. Through all the frustrating encounters she had with him, the girl had sometimes felt like stooping to violence against the Pool Boy. Even with all her misgivings against him, Daiya had little reason to actually want him dead. His sudden and inexplicable demise sent the girl into a wide-eyed panic.

The girl shouted in surprise, jumping back and reaching for her blaster-holding satchel while her eyes searched for the source of the shot. They landed on the sight of...Cassus. Looking worse for the wear, and without his customary helmet, this Cassus had his blaster held out at the headless version of him in the chair. She looked back at it, and in place of the once familiar face was a sparking gap of seared wires, super-heated metal and spurting metallic fluids as the body still stood as it was moments ago.

"But you're...he..." the girl started, bewildered by the scene before her. The Cassus in the chair, exposed as a doppelgänger at last, shot by the boy she knew had to be real. He had only shown his face to her a couple times, but she could see it written all over, this was the real boy. Daiya watched him lower his blaster arm, and it was as if he finally gave his copy permission to collapse, and the doppelgänger hit the floor with a thud as Cassus opened his mouth to speak.

"You didn't seriously think that was me, did you?"

A moment of silence spanned an eternity between them before the girl broke the it again.

"I knew it! That couldn't have been you! He was all wrong, Cassus. Like, he actually made me laugh!" The girl let the point linger for a moment as if that was the very linchpin of guilt. Then she added, "Aaaand, he was here getting one of the tattoos for Shadowrunners, and you'd never join up. Obviously." She rolled her eyes, slinging her satchel over her shoulder. "Let me pay, and then we can head on out."

As Daiya looked down to retrieve her cred chip, something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. To her surprise, the boy stepped over his mechanical corpse and climbed into the chair previously occupied by his double. Confusion laced her voice as she asked him, "What the feth are you doing?"

"I've been away for a few weeks...a lot has changed." He said, his gaze set away from her as he got the attention of the irritated artist.

"Here, down my check. Like a tear." He said gesturing to his face.

"Listen kid, just because you blasted some Corpo crap in my store doesn't mean I'm just going to give this to you now." The Mirialan woman stepped away from the chair, pulling away her instruments from her would-be customer. She was careful to walk backwards. "You could be another one for all I know! Both of you, get out!"

The real boy sighed and pulled out a knife from his belt. When did he start carrying knives? He switched the grip so the handle faced the artist. "If I bleed, will you trust me?"

The artist took a moment to consider, before sighing herself with her hands in the air. "Nah, I know that look, boy. No lifeless hack can replicate that look, you're out for blood...vengeance. So...one, or two tears?"

(A joint post with Cassus Akovin )

 

[Anakin Stormrunner]

The dingy light of the back alley tattoo parlor washed over Anakin, bathing him in the flickering green of its glow. He had heard of the infamous darkwire tattoos, but had always held back on claiming one himself. On Tatooine, some masters had marked their slaves with tattoos, This may have been his choice, but the Amavikkan was loath to sell himself to another master.

In the end it didn't matter. The Trail needed information, and he was in a key place to get it. Not to mention that this way, he could keep up to date with the goings on in the criminal world. If worst came to worst, he could always cut the tattoo out. There was no master to stop him. Not anymore.

A bell chimed as Anakin pushed his way into the parlor. The evenly placed white lights washed across the metal corpse of the Doppler. A boy was already in the chair, so Anakin busied himself by kneeling before the robot. He knew little of its making, but he had an opportunity to study one how he could and he would take it. Had he not seen the mess of wires that stood for the blood and muscle of the neck, he would have thought it the real thing. "Wonder if they're weak to EMPs...." Fingers prodded the things skin, feeling metal bones that were too thin to be human, but not so thin as to cause suspicion. Standing up, Anakin couldn't help but smile. Ekkreth would have loved to tinker with something like this.

There was another in the room with him, and Anakin turned his attention to her. She was young, but he had seen younger. His chest ached at the reminder. "Hey." He greeted, water blue wings pulling in just a bit as his right hand rubbed one of the many japoor snippets at his belt. Amarattu, the mother's protection. "I'm Anakin." He had long given up the hassle of code names outside of the Trail. His appearance was just too noticeable to pull them off.

It wasn't much longer until the boy was done. He pulled himself out of the chair and shuffled into the cramped space, made smaller by the feathered wings that curled along Anakin's back. "Another one? The shops closed!" The tattoo artist glared at him, but Anakin only smiled back. "Sorry bout the hour, I just need some ink. Nothin big, but I have somethin I gotta remember." He spoke in code, hiding the phrase among his explanation. He was with strangers, and he couldn't be sure they were in on the secret. The woman seemed unconvinced. Thinking back to the twisted metal corpse, Anakin pulled his arms in front of him, clutching them as if anxious. He right arm dripped blood moments later, avian claws digging too hard into the weak flesh. "I can find somewhere else nearby, if you want me too." They both knew there was no where else nearby. Not for ink like this.

She sighed, running a dark hand through equally dark hair. "Fine, fine. But you're paying extra." He was lucky she was a good actor, and if she wasn't and was truly asking for extra, he would pay it willingly. "Thanks."

The chair creaked as Anakin settled his weight onto it. Water blue wings splayed out to the side, half pinned between his mass and the back of the chair. "Sorry bout the mess." He shot her a smile, one full of sharpened teeth and awkward apology. There was no reply, only the sound of tools being swapped and ink being replaced. The woman appeared beside him a few moments later. "So what are you thinking, and where to do you want it?"

"Well, if it's not too complicated, I brought a drawing with me? As for where, my right arms already inked up, so we'd have to do my left. Mind the scars, I dunno if they'll effect how the ink takes." As he spoke, Anakin rolled back his sleeve. Beneath it was a stretch of skin pockmarked with the groves and knots of the weakest of the sandstorm and marred with what looked like an old bite mark. A slaver's dog, a feral beast that had attacked him when he was helping to free a shipful of slaves. "For your arm? The designs too complicated for all that scaring." Anakin nodded as if this was the expected answer and rolled himself onto his stomach, folding his wings close so as not to hit anyone. His shirt was already open backed, and provided ample room to his skin. "The right shoulder then." His left one was already scarred over with the thin trails of his many lichtenberg scars. Scars that trailed down his back and inched around his throat. Most were lichtenberg, though a large amount were splotchy sun burn scars and few, a large patch near his right ribs, were sand blasted scars from moments spent in Tatooine sandstorms.

The artist hummed, looking over the skin and assessing her own skills. "That should work." The tattoo gun began to hum, and in his right hand Anakin clutched amarattu. For better or worse, he took their ink, and prayed to Ar'amu that he wasn't selling himself to another master.

 

[Ruby Jaxx]

“Where d'ya want it?”

“Back of the wrist,” Ruby answered and silently steeled herself. Despite her rough looks, she didn't actually have any ink yet. Not that she was scared of it. Nope. But, maybe a little bit. Needles weren't fun, and they hurt like a....

“Mother karker--”

“I haven't done anything yet,” the artist answered flatly.

Oh. Right. Too jumpy. Ruby drew a deep breath and tried to sink into the chair, but her muscles remained tense. The tattoo artist paused and handed her a flask. “Drink it.”

Ruby rolled her eyes, but took a sip and relished the burn. After a few more drinks, she was feeling numb – which was good. In the distance, she felt a pin-prick and she could hear faint buzzing. Good, this was going to be easy, right? It wasn't going to hurt. Now she'd be marked for life. Commitments like this were tough, but there was no going back now.

Her eye twitched. Okay, ouch. That did hurt.

 

[Gray Venasir]

After the attack on the factory, it had seemed like every Shadowrunner had gone into hiding. One could hardly blame them, as some of the DireX board were not using their personnal armies to search for them. Darkwire knew Marlene Starlight wouldn't be happy with the attack, but they had not anticipated the support of some of the other members of the board. The Mandos guarding the factory were bad enough, as everyone involved in the attack had lost omeone they knew. But now, it felt almost like a purge. And on top of that, their ruined reputation, the result of the replicants, still hung over the afflicted like a shadow.

"And what do you propose we do?" shouted Gray at his replicant, which he had come to call Gary. After the attack, Gray had retreated back to an abandoned building he knew, far away from the factory. It was there he had sent his clone, Gina Venasir, before they headed for the factory. Once there, he had been contacted by his replicant, who claimed to have gone rogue. "Because of you, I can no longer show my face around certain parts of the planet. And with Starlight searching for the known perpetrators, including me, we're stuck here." Gary, who had so far been sitting during their argument, now stood up and walked over to Gray. "Keep your voice down," he calmly stated. "Your clone is sleeping." It had been hard living like this, with the three of them being as close to the same person as they could be. And Gray didn't particularly trust the replicant.

"You know what? Screw this." Gray had had enough of Gary's unnatural ease in this situation. And it was because of him that Gray had been caught on camera during the attack, and was now hunted. "And screw you." With that, Gray turned towards the exit, and began walking away.

"Where in all the 8 heavens do you think you're going?" shouted the replicant after him. Gray didn't even turn around to answer him. "Away from here. I got you the component you wanted, and it only brought me chit! I don't trust you, or anything you've said! That includes the clone. So have fun taking care of her, as I'm out of here." And just as he said that, he walked out the door.

It was evening on Denon, though the lights from the buildings and signs made it as bright as the middle of the day. But the alleys and backstreets Gray had to keep to didn't get much of that light. Maybe it was for the best, as one could hardly recognize a wanted man if it was too dark to see his face. There were more people in the alleys than one would expect, though luckily they didn't pay much attention to others.

A few kilometers away was a different abandoned building Gray had laid his claim on. Which meant he had installed a lock which could only be opened with a retinal scan, only linked to Gray's eye. And it is this building Gray went to now. The insides were not much to brag about, but it had a balcony, which Gray found calming to stand on and just look out over the city. He did this for a short while after arriving there this day, to clear his mind. That nearly made him miss a notification on his holopad. He looked at it, and saw that it was a CryptNet message. "Remember your ink? Reconnect your future, reality is flawed? What the kark is this?" At first, Gray thought it was a troll post. But the more he thought about it, it seemed more and more like a code.

He removed the glove on his left hand. His ringfinger was missing. But in it's place was a tattoo, of design without meaning. But it wasn't the design that was important about this one, but rather the function it had. Gray hesitated for a moment, but decided to activate him. Then, it all went white.

The next thing he knows, he is in a a white space-like area. Three others are already there, two of which Gray knows as fellow Shadowrunners. Jenkins and Plet, he seemed to remember being their names. He had only met them once, during the business with the nanobots on Precellus Minor. The same nano-tech Gray's tattoo was made of. But all three of them seemed to be as confused as Gray felt.

 

[Xan Deesa]

Things were seemingly calming down for now. But in Xan's perspective it felt more like a calm before the storm. Xan was sitting in the same tattoo parlour she visited earlier the week with Daiya, waiting for Cartri to finish up his own Darkwire tattoo as she browsed through her datapad. After the mess on Altier and the fight against the Mandos, she had been doing quite a bit of planning and thinking. She kept it to herself for the most part. What she had in mind wasn't going to be beneficial for Cartri and she didn't want to drag him into something as dangerous as this.

She blinked as a message from the CryptNet popped up. With a curious look she tapped on the message and read it through. As she read, she cast a glance at her right index finger. The tattooed ring around it was precisely what this message was for. But she couldn't join in on that now. Not with what she wanted to do. Looking up at Cartri, she smirked with a soft chuckle. "Whaddya know. You're gonna be taking that tat for a spin sooner than ya thought. Just got a message sayin' we need to use it." she quipped as she glanced over at him. It was still bizarre how her current eyes weren't her own, but she couldn't argue that their capabilities were much better.

She rose from her seat and paced around as she looked at her datapad, not exactly focusing on it. After a few moments she came to a halt and started to fiddle with some things. She had been keeping tabs on a certain Farghul after their trip to Belaruza but never got a chance to do anything with it. Now was a different story entirely.

She looked back to Cartri and dropped back into her seat. "Once we finish up, we can head back to the apartment. It'll be a better location to join in with that tat of yours. Though you're gonna have to take notes for me. I don't think I'll be able to join in with it." she explained to him as she took off her mask and played around with it.

Cartri Keswoll Kadora'Tra

 

[Yula Perl]

“I’m not doing that. Put your shirt back on.”

The tattoo artist deadpanned at the Zeltron that was currently pointing to a patch of pink skin on her lower back.

“What, really?” Yula peered over her shoulder with a frown. “They’re super common on Zeltros.”

“I know,” The green woman snorted. “But it’s not practical, and frankly, it’ll take too long.”

“Fine, fine.” Slipping her shirt back on, Yula rocked on the balls of her feet and hummed in decision.

“Okay…here?” She patted her upper arm, tracking the dip of her deltoid with a finger. “Does that meet with your approval?”

“If it gets you out of here quicker, yes.” The Mirialan commented dryly. “Now sit down, and keep your clothes on.”

 

[Phalsi Drynchen]

Yula Perl

Phalsi was sitting in another chair, itching at the base of her neck where the steristeel plate covered the last portion of her encoil cybernetic was to the visible eye. It had taken just a small portion of her hairline at the base of her skull, but it was growing out nicely as she laughed at Yula attempting to get a lower back tattoo.

"I thought I was a free spirit." She laughed, shaking her head as she watched the Mirialan work.

"Please tell me-"

"Me next!" she hummed, pulling her shirt sleeve back on her upper arm. The mirialan drew in a sharp breath, giving a small groan at the realization of how much work she had ahead of her.

"Feth."

 

[Shenn Rosham]

"Don't rush me, dammit!"

"Come on, old man. It's not that bad. Weren't you a soldier? You must have been through worse."

"Of course I've had worse you whippersnapper! But you never expect to be shot, even when you're looking down the barrel of a blaster. There's a certain level of disbelief. You don't think it's possible that they could shoot you. Or that it'll even hurt. This on the other hand," Shenn looked at the long needle being held by Isqi, one of his bouncer's and former deep sea game hunter. "The worst part of pain is the anticipation of it."

Isqi harrumphed and his mouth tendrils jiggled around as he impatiently waited for Shenn's all-clear. The Chandrilan took a few deep breaths. The Quarren's impatience grew but opted for more conversation to try and distract the apprehensive target. "I'm surprised a soldier doesn't already have a few tattoos already."

"I was an officer. The noncoms were the ones who always opted for marking themselves up. Even if I had wanted one, what private would want to put some ink on a superior officer? Risk infection from a dirty needle or bad ink or, worse, put something on that looked completely ridiculous." Shenn took another swig of brandy as he talked nervously. "And what about you? I never knew you knew how to do this. Are you sure you can handle it?"

Another harrumph. "Not everything that happens gets recorded or passed around by word, old man. You know that."

That wasn't an answer. But Dreva had said that Isqi could do it. And Shenn wasn't going to trust the prying eyes that saw a familiar tavern proprietor walk in into an unfamiliar tattoo parlor. So it was this or nothing. Shenn took one last swig and then rolled up his sleeve. He pointed to the shoulder muscle on his arm, indicating his desired location for the artwork he was about to receive. "And the pattern? You good with that?"

Isqi just nodded and Shenn felt the needle sink in.

***​

Shenn opened his eyes and there he was. Wherever "there" was supposed to be. Darkwire needed an interior decorator. The irritatingly bland space was just a faint whiteness. He saw whiteness in the distance, above him, beneath his feet where he "stood." The white didn't make his eyes ache, it wasn't blinding, just irritating in its monotony.

As he surveyed the space, he noticed a few others were "there" as well. Most he recognized as having been to his establishment at one point or another. Still more seemed to pop into existence as time ticked by. With a thought, Shenn suddenly found himself right next to a growing cluster. "Hello, Gray. Good to see you. Jenkins. Plet. Looks like we're going to have quite the showing, aren't we?"

Gray Venasir
Daiya | Cassus Akovin | Anakin Stormrunner | Ruby Jaxx | Xan Deesa | Yula Perl | Phalsi Drynchen​

 

[Cassus Akovin]

The pain of getting a Tattoo on his face must’ve hurt, and it was clear his body certainly thought so, as the occasional tear marked a path for the Mirialan artist to trace along his right cheek. As well as his left, if he wanted another. Yet unlike the stifling gasps and tensed muscles one would expect, it almost seemed as if the boy were pressing his face to the needle, rather than the needle pressed to his face. It was like he wanted the pain, like it was the only thing planting him in the chair.

After a short while (his Tattoo was not overly complicated, after all), he was finally done and got up to turn towards Daiya. Wiping away a bit of his real tears with a small sniff, he cleared his eyes to look at her, and show his face.

“What do you think, one or two?” He asked her, braving a smirk that served poorly as a mask.

"I think it looks like chit," the girl offered in retort. She hid a grin behind the pain still lingering in her ear, hoping that Cassus would take the bait. Daiya folded her arms, chiding him as if she hadn't just been doing the same thing, "You're supposed to hold still so they don't smear, you know?"

“Alright then, I guess one will do.” He said as another patron seemed to make their way in.

“You’re damn right one will do, I gotta another one! You people, I swear…” The Mirialan artist groaned. “No sense of punctuality or decent hours; there are other parlors you know!” She muttered to herself.

"Fine by me, this place is getting crowded. And I heard these things are best used someplace more...secluded," Daiya suggested to Cassus. She was already halfway out the door, and she hoped the distance would hide the part of her smirk poking through. "If you know what I mean."

“Uh,” The boy started, his eyes downcast a bit. “I mean, I have a ship parked somewhere. I’m not really sure this is the time for what you’re thinking…”

"Cassus!" The girl's face turned to shock, and she turned to face him. Pool Boy stopped next to her, and Daiya took advantage of the proximity to reach over and give his shoulder a punch. "I meant someplace not so public, maybe with a friendly witness? Like the Blue Flame. Stars, what kind of girl do you think I am anyway?"

Daiya giggled as she skipped away, happy to send the boy into a state of confusion. It would mirror her own pretty well at the moment. Her mind was still trying to process the idea of the Cassus she had known for the last however-long-a-time being one of those machine doubles. How far back did that really go? Was this Cassus even the same one who had revealed his embattled soul to her on Belazura? She hoped so, and looked back to gauge his responses from time to time.

Cassus followed her a bit further behind as she skipped and giggled, wondering what had gotten into her. He shook that weird funny feeling pit developing in his stomach and looked ahead of where they were walking, a paranoid mind refocusing on the dancing shadows reminding him of what he only just left behind.

Being back out on the streets of Denon, it felt strange to Cassus. Normally, when this close to another person, he was completely obscured, distant, and detached. His entire life he was a cloistered kid with more guns than toys, with only two people he ever knew. He still had more guns than toys, but he was open, exposed, and vulnerable to someone he got to know himself, allowing her to confuse the meanings of their conversation.

She made it out that she hated his guts, but the way she reacted when he killed one of his copies in front of her… perhaps he imagined what he saw, she was merely shocked to see something die in front of her without warning. It wouldn’t have made a difference if it was someone else sitting in that chair. Sorting out his own feelings was difficult enough, trying to guess someone else's seemed like an impossible challenge. At least he could trust she was capable of holding her own, their history had sorted that out for him, at least.

After a bit, they eventually made their way to the Blue Flame. Daiya chatted with one of the staff, making sure that no one would disturb the pair. They found a comfortable booth to sit down for the duration. It seemed a few patrons, including Shenn himself were already “in the zone” so to speak.

”Ready for the tat-chat?” Daiya asked, grinning at her own cleverness for the name.

“Let’s hope this won’t be like Parcellus Minor, eh?” Cassus smirked with a bit more genuineness than before, recalling the memory they shared together on the planet, before closing his eyes to activate the tear.

"Aww, don't say that. I was a badass there..." Daiya remarked with a smug bravado, but Cassus only stared back blankly at her. The girl shrugged her slender shoulders, reaching her hand up to finally touch her ear. She had been itching to rub her new ink since the tattoo artist pulled away, and it had taken everything in her to wait until this moment to grip it between her thumb and forefinger. The sting of pain was momentary, and relief of pressure was fleeting as the tattoo activated in the next second, whisking her away to a world of white.

White.

There was too much white.

Daiya frowned at the scene as she looked around. Cassus was there in front of her, looking around just like the few others already in the void. To her surprise, even Shenn had appeared! Cassus recognized a few, namely Gray Vanasir. More and more shadowrunners kept popping in, and looking pretty confused by the whole ordeal. The girl tended to agree, this place was very lacking and needed...something.

Her eyes closed and she tucked her chin down to the floor, as if concentrating hard on something. Daiya's palm itched, and her hand moved in an imitation of drawing something. From under tightly-shut eyes, the girl grinned at something only she could see. Then she opened them, and suddenly everyone could see what she did.

A long table, flanked by individual tables, with seats and benches all around them. The walls were decorated in flamboyant colors, pinks and blues and purples, and neon lights from the ceiling bathed the place in reds, blues and a bit of yellow thrown in for good measure. It was an appropriately punk place for a punky outfit like Darkwire to gather.

“Good taste,” Cassus complimented Daiya, “How’d you know to do that?”

"I dunno," the girl said honestly. She shrugged again, and put out her hand to watch as the neon lights bathed her palm in a wash of colors. It all felt real, even though she knew this time it wasn't. None of it was, just figments of imagination being shared somehow. Daiya confessed, ”I just thought about it real hard, and it happened."

(A joint post with Daiya )

Anakin Stormrunner Ruby Jaxx Xan Deesa Gray Venasir Yula Perl Phalsi Drynchen Shenn Rosham

 

[Ruby Jaxx]

One minute, she was in the chair getting her tattoo and the next she was... somewhere.

It's possible she was dreaming, passed out from booze and pain, probably drooling on herself. But it didn't really feel like a dream. And there were others here, too. Familiar faces – Cassus, Daiya, Gray... and some old dude with a beard. There were probably even more, too. For there was a sensation of something... maybe like a connection of some sort. Ruby wasn't even sure how to explain it to herself.

But the blinding white was soon exchanged for something far better. There was solid ground beneath her feet now, polished black floorboards. Tables, drinks, and neon walls. Hmm, not too bad.

“What the kark is this place?” Ruby asked, looking to the others.

It had something to do with the message and the tattoo, right? That's what she was guessing. But sometimes, even Ruby underestimated the thickness of her own skull.

Cassus Akovin | Daiya | Shenn Rosham | Yula Perl | Phalsi Drynchen | Xan Deesa | Gray Venasir | Anakin Stormrunner​

 

[Cartri Keswoll]

"Yaw!" jolted Cartri in the tattoo parlour chair, grimacing from the pain of a needle jabbing ink into his arm "How much longer are you going to keep jabbing me for?!" grunted the boy as the tattoo man gave him a look of annoyance "For another hour if you keep squirming..." replied the man who forced the boys arm back onto the seat for him to continue. Cartri sighed loudly and leaned back in the chair, choosing to take in the pain for another while longer. He looked over to Xan who seemed to be busy tapping away at her data pad, probably focused on the job at hand. Although, she soon mentioned that the tattoo he was getting done was soon going to be put into good use "Lovely..." groaned the boy through gritted teeth, jumping slightly once more from the ink pen.

He still didn't have a clue what he was going to use it for, but it seemed clearly important from the looks of things. When they got back to the apartment Xan mentioned he was going to take notes of some sort, of what was the real question "Why, what are you up to?" asked Cartri curiously. She normally kept with him during these situations but it seemed she had other plans for tonight. However, before he could get his answer the ink pen turned off and the man carefully wiped any excess ink of his arm "You're done kid, keep pressing down on your arm for a few minutes before taking off the dressing" mentioned the man while Cartri got out of the seat "Cheers old timer" said Cartri with a cheeky comment, making the man smirk with amusement "Oh, for that comment alone I think you deserve another run in the chair" replied the inkman before jokingly grabbing his arm, to which Cartri made sure to quickly tug himself away from.

Cartri could only laugh from his response and politely nodded to him before walking over to Xan, who was playing with her mask now "Everything is done, thankfully. Now lets get out of here before he actually does get me back into that chair”

Xan Deesa ​

 

[Xan Deesa]

Understandably Cartri asked what she was going to do, but she merely shrugged at him. "An appointment. I'll tell you more once we're done." she commented before returning to her own devices.

From the corner of her eye she watched with a smirk as the tattoo artist messed around with Cartri. Clearly he wasn't an ink junkie like others on this planet. When he returned to her, she paid the artist for the work and led the way back to the apartment. She only looked back to him once they were on their own. "I take it the process wasn't enjoyable?" she quipped as she lightly bumped his shoulder.

Slipping her mask back on, she looked around then back to him. "I got a little meeting planned with that CorpSec kitten. The type she doesn't know she's gonna be having with me. I wanna find out as much info as I can on the corpos a d this mess with the copies. The heads I grabbed gave quite a bit of info but not as much as I had hoped. Seemed those copies of ours weren't very preem. Frankly, I'm a little insulted." she explained to him as they walked.

"So you're gonna have to take notes for me while I'm out. Once I'm done I'm gonna try to join in... hopefully it won't be over by then." she continued. She made sure to pass the infamous burger stand she frequented and got them both a little snack. By the time they arrived at the apartment, her burger was unfortunately finished.

She led the way in then looked to Cartri. "Make yourself comfortable then press the tattoo when it starts to blink. That's gonna essentially act like a VR set and send you into this type of lobby where you can talk with other people who also got the tattoo." she explained to him.

With that, she turned to leave and casually waved at him. "See you in a bit." she quipped before disappearing into the streets.

**********​

Xan had been extra careful with this operation. She had made very sure that this one was the real deal and not a copycat. And her infiltration was also extremely cautious.

Sitting in a dark corner of the Farghul's quarters, she wore a dark hoodie to hide her hair and her cybernetic eyes also changed colour from the usual gold to a completely black appearance. She sat still as a statue as she waited for Kadora to return home and make herself comfortable. She wanted to catch her when she was most vulnerable. It would simply make it easier.

When she was confident the time was right and Kadora's guard was completely down, she made her presence known.

"Hey Kitty." she spoke up with a chipper voice as her eyes lit up with the familiar gold she usually used. Slipping her mask back on, she rose to her feet and leaned against a wall as she waited to see what Kadora's first move was going to be. She couldn't afford to have the girl make a move to bust her presence.

Cartri Keswoll Kadora'Tra

 

[Anakin Stormrunner]

Blue wings soared through smog choked air. Speeders could be heard in the distance, shooting across the planet towards their destinations. Even at night, Denon was never quiet. It was a fact that had taken Anakin a long time to accept, used to the silence of the desert or the hum of a personal ship as he had been. Now, Anakin darted through narrow alleyways with nary a thought to the constant hum of noise. He swooped over the ledges and sidewalks that marked the individual levels of the city planet and glided through narrow back alley streets, occasionally using his rocket boosters to achieve sharper turns. With his wings, it wasn't long before Anakin arrived at his destination. A well reputed bar and budding speakeasy known as Second Chance. The building itself was nondescript. Just another bland metal touched up with color here and there in an attempt to make it stand out.


The inside of course was much different. Full of vibrant lights and lowly chatting patrons. Some were every day civilians, sitting around the picnic tables, laughing and drinking all the while. Others were low level corpos, looking for a crook to hire or a shady business partner to meet. Then there were the criminals some sitting in the shadows, talking lowly amongst themselves. Others were out in the open, laughing and chatting and generally appearing to have a fun night out.

It was one of these groups that Anakin first approached. Always the cautious one, the twi’lek was the first to spot his brightly colored form. “Ani!” The red skinned man smiled as he approached, revealing sharpened teeth and bright red gums. “It’s been too long, upanda.” The moment he was close enough, red arms reached to wrap him in their embrace. A gesture Anakin was quick to reciprocate. Dark arms and water blue wings enshrouded his little brother and in the privacy of the feathery cocoon, Anakin pressed their foreheads together. “It really has, upandi.” His bones hummed with joy, the desert that resides there finding familiarity in the desert that his brother carried. A desert that all Tatooine slaves held.

The moment was broken by the intrusion of a third voice, one unfamiliar to the Depuskalta. “Were you able to get the secret key?” The words were spoken in Amatakka, the secret language of the slaves. Like much of the language, it was spoken in only a few words and translated poorly to basic. For basic was an ambiguous language, easily manipulated to half truths and deceptions. In amatakka, there were twelve different words that translated to key, and one that their unknown companion used translated poorly to a key that unlocks secrets. “Ta-ka.” He answered likewise, the harsh language of amatakka rolling of his tongue with the ease of a native speaker.

By then Anakin and Bentu had separated, Anakin’s wings pulled back and the arms of the twi’lek once again hanging at his waist. The third member smiled at him, and switched fluidly to huttese for the sake of the unknowing company, making small talk as they herded Anakin out of the bar and up towards the private bedrooms.

Ever since the Trail had heard about the budding speakeasy, there were always two or three freedones staying in its quarters. Often they were Relkini but the inn got its fair share of slaves looking to lie low from their master or Chelii on the run from whatever corpo used to hold their detonators.

Once the door shut, Anakin turned to his companions, set on introducing himself to the stranger. “Ek masa nu Anakin Ekkreth ka.” He smiled at the togorian as she followed up with her own introduction. “Ek masa nu Nim Ar’amu ku.”

With their introductions made, Anakin quick to fill them in on the details, from the message sent over the darknet to his arrival at the tattoo parlor and all the details of his time and interactions there. He described in as accurate detail as he could, the twisted metal corpse of the Doppler and it’s likeness to the boy in the chair.

The two Amavikkans listened as he went on to explain his need for a safe location to active his tattoo and a couple trustworthy people to make sure nothing happened to his body while he was indisposed. They agreed easily and Anakin set himself up on the rounded leather chair, wings positioned over the back and curved armrests to form a circle of feathers around his cross legged form.

With a nod to his companions, Anakin pressed the base of his feathered wing to the Compass tattoo. Brilliant blue eyes fluttered closed as the technology hidden in the tattoo sputtered to life.

_______________________________________​

When Anakin opened his eyes, he found himself in a darkened room of metal and reflective surfaces. A long table took center stage, it’s glossy surface covered in black and white symbols. Over head, the ceiling was similarly painted, different only in the stark spots of neon color that made up the lights. Shades of blue and yellow reflected off the table and surrounding chairs, though many of the red lights were lost on the chairs, indistinguishable from the similar color of the upholstery.

Already the room was full of people. Unfamiliar faces mingling or sitting at the long table. Those he did recognize were only by story or rumor. Of all the strangers, the only faces he knew from personal experience was the pair from the tattoo parlor, however minimal it had been.

Faced with a horde of barely known strangers, Anakin made a beeline towards the slightly more familiar faces. The diverse colors over head caught the black cloth of his backless duster, reflecting off the intricate orange and white and red embroidery. In the uneven lighting and the swaying caused by his gait, it was difficult to identify the full design. However, with enough focus one would be able to identify the swirl of a sandstorm that covered the bottom of the coat tails, separated by the bright blue feathered tail that appeared between the two pieces. Tapering into a single point at it went up, the embroidery shifted to a red bellied bird, it’s wings curving around his hips, just barely visible in the front, as it emerged from the center of the storm with an expertly told exuberance. The long sleeves too were embroidered in a mix of red and orange and white, though these depicted more artistic designs than actual images. It was a masterful piece of work, and Anakin had spent days making it.

The designs were soon hidden as Anakin settled himself into a chair, once again next to the young blond and her companion. “Hi again.” His words were heavily accented, and out of habit Anakin stressed the first syllable of again like he would when speaking Amatakka. “You mind if I sit here? Crowds aren’t my thing and you two are the only faces I recognize.” A lie, but close enough to the truth. He knew plenty about the more well known faces, but he had never met them, and that alone made it painfully awkward. “I’m Anakin, by the way. In case you didn’t catch it at the tattoo parlor.” He offered them a smile, sharpened teeth glaring out of his dark skin, made ever more noticeable by the conglomeration of colors that were cast across his face.

Daiya Cassus Akovin

Spoiler: Translations

upanda: big brother
upandi: little brother
Ta-ka: yes
Relkin(i): guide, specifically a guide on the freedom trail
Chelii: a runaway, an escaped slave, and is usually used to describe someone who’s actively on the run.
Ek masa nu Anakin Ekkreth ka: I am a person with the name Anakin Stormrunner he/him. (The emphasis in the Tatooine idiom is on the personhood, with the name being an expression of that.)
Ek masa nu Nim Ar’amu ku: I am a person with the name Nim Firestarter she/her. (The names of Amavikkans translate into huttese or basic as epithets for the three deities. Ekkreth, Ar’amu, and Leia.)

 

[Darkwire Prophet]

The cyborg woman arrived to little fanfare in the 'tat-chat' environment. There were few here who would have recognized her anyway, and fewer who might believe it. She was supposed to be dead, after all. There was some platitude about news of death being exaggerated, but she didn't buy into mainstream kark like that. Frankie had always operated better in the shadows anyway, and she preferred it that way.

Some noob had figured out how to change the default settings already, making it appear that the Shadowrunners were meeting in a punky sort of dining room. A tug pulled at the edge of Frankie's mouth at seeing the change. Good enough for the moment. At least whoever did it had sense enough not to make it bland, or branded somehow. Kark forbid they started passing out swag to mark the occasion or some chit like that, too.

No, if the Shadowrunners here were smart, they'd keep their traps shut about what they heard today. Except to those they trusted with their lives.

"Alright, shut the kark up you motherfethers!" Frankie shouted into the mix, standing in the middle of the group of tables. She didn't react much when the chatter died down, just swiveling her gaze at the different types who had shown up. There weren't many, which was a pity. But she started as one, so they were already ahead. "The name's Frankie, and for those of you thinking it, yes I'm that Frankie."

"None of youse need a history lesson, but let's just say that chit's been fethed for a while. You all know the game the Corpos play with us, maybe you hate it or maybe you just think it's chuff-sucking nonsense. I don't care which. You're here because the Corpos are as slippery as a greased Hutt, and they're done playing games. So it's time for us to wise up or get wiped out."

Frankie leveled a finger at the Shadowrunners. She either had them paying attention or not by now. If a few of them blipped out, she couldn't really blame them. This was going to be some heavy chit, and worse than the school kark even she'd ditched out of as soon as she could. Still, it was serious, and it was their lives. By now, she knew some of them understood just how far the Corpos would go even to feth with that. She sure did.

"Now, we got Lance or Mir here, and one of them is gonna show you some right chit the Corpos have been cooking up. If you've seen it before, don't spoil the ending for everyone else. This ain't your holo-games chatroom and your v-dick length means nothing here. Believe me, I've seen bigger."

The woman found one of the two in the crowd, either the Ithorian scientist or the Iskalloni engineer, and pointed them toward the end of the room. With a little snap, what looked like the receptionist desk and waiting area for customers, in whatever eatery this was supposed to represent, now turned into a stage that they could present from. Even Frankie hated the metaphor it presented, but even she couldn't change the collective hindbrain reactions of most organics. The elevated speaker got eyes, and she guessed that the eggheads might be used to that kind of setup elsewhere, too.

Grabbing a seat herself, Frankie returned to one of the crowd. It wouldn't work to engage her in some way, if her haunted glare didn't defeat any simps, she had plenty of mods for physical prowess that she was betting the tat-chat environment would let her show off. So stick to the karking info dump, ya nerf-herders!

Daiya Anakin Stormrunner Ruby Jaxx Gray Venasir Xan Deesa Yula Perl Phalsi Drynchen Shenn Rosham Cassus Akovin Cartri Keswoll Mir Nehrahn Lance of Dreams​

 

[Doc Painless]

The Doc was late. He knew it, and he didn't enjoy it, but there was no avoiding it now.

Of course, he hadn't been entirely sure he should be there at all, listening in on this secret runner meeting. He was still pretty new to Seven Corners, nearly-fresh from parts unknown and never discussed, and though the Darkwire community had welcomed him with open arms, he was different from most of those in attendance; he wasn't a shadowrunner. The Doc had never fired a blaster, hacked a secure system, or driven a getaway speeder, and he was unlikely to start anytime soon. A street medic, sure. A fixer, often. A runner, definitely not.

But whatever was going on between the Darkwire runners and the Corporate Authority had been heating up, and his new friends were getting hurt even more often than usual in the crossfire. The Doc had known where he stood in that feud since long before he'd come to Denon, but his experiences here had only intensified his disgust for the Corpos. How could he feel otherwise after finding out about the decraniated? After seeing what had been done to Belazura? The CAD valued power and profit over life and liberty, and it made him sick.

His own ability to do anything about it was limited, but together, maybe they could push back. At the very least, he needed to know what was going on, to find out what was so important that all these runners were being called together. Of course, because the Doc was so new, he'd been late to the tattoo party. He hadn't known until recently that the runners' body decorations had been for anything other than personal style, and now he was out of time to go get something fancy done. If he wanted to make it to the meeting, he'd need to be quick.

Normally the Doc worked on someone else's body, patching up blaster burns or weaving together nerve endings for whoever wandered into his clinic. That day, though, he had no patient other than himself. He stretched his own augmented left arm out on his work table, working the tattoo gun with his right. Neither arm was real flesh anymore, but the pigment sank into the synthskin covering the metal just as well as it would into living tissue. Plus he could turn off the pain receptors, so he didn't even feel the pricking of the needle as he worked.

He wasn't an artist, but he didn't have to be; he downloaded a design he liked from the holonet, and his augmentations did the rest, reproducing the pattern flawlessly on his forearm. Leaning back to survey his work, the Doc smiled to himself. There would be no swelling, no redness, no risk of going septic; synthskin was a wonderful invention. He was glad that Darkwire agents had gotten him the required nano-ink in time. Even if he hadn't been in a rush, he preferred to work on himself; that was one person he knew for sure that he could trust.

The moment of truth. Closing synthskin eyelids over cybernetic eyes, the Doc triggered the newly-inked nanite tattoo. Reality slipped away as his consciousness entered the Cryptnet, perhaps the one place on Denon where the Corpos couldn't pry. At least, not yet. When he opened his eyes - though they weren't really open, he realized; it was just his virtual avatar becoming aware of its surroundings - he found himself in what looked like a restaurant, surrounded by a small crowd of runners. He was just in time to watch them take their seats.

Good, he hadn't missed too much. The Doc sank into a chair of his own, staring attentively up at the podium.

 

[Daiya]

Daiya was delighted by the contents of the tat-chat environment, not the least of which being her control over it. Here, for some reason, she didn't fear the discovery of her talents from others. Maybe it was the unhindered potential of the environment, or a residual feeling from the last time the girl had been subjected to it. Even unwilling, her past experience with the nanotechnology had shown her —even let her live— such a different kind of person that she could be. The untapped freedom the realm offered was invigorating to her.

The girl was eager for the meeting to be over already so she could experiment with it. Yet nothing had even begun. Only a few had even shown up, though more were popping into view all the time. The young shadowrunner stepped away from Cassus to mingle with a few of those she knew.

"Hey Gray," Daiya greeted the smuggler cheerily, but cast her gaze up to Shenn. She had plenty of chances to encounter Gray on jobs and missions where they occasionally aligned, but the girl felt like it had been ages since she'd had a chance to talk to her favorite tavern proprieter. She grasped his hand and gave it a tug, as eager and childish as she was used to being in his presence. "Shenn, come sit with me."

Come to think of it, she hadn't been in the Blue Flame since...well, it had been a while. She didn't want him to think it was him she was ignoring. "I'm over—" Daiya halted as she pointed back to the table she had already picked out, where Cassus was now seated. The girl tried to hold back a frown. He could have sat anywhere! "Okay, we're over there. Come join when you're done here. Please?"

She left him on that note, prancing away back to the table occupied by Pool Boy. Climbing over the bench, the girl let herself drop to a seat, coming down hard on its surface. Daiya pretended not to take notice of her unceremonious arrival, watching instead as a newcomer approached them and took a seat. The man had spice-blue eyes, a head of jealously-curly hair, and a violently-beautiful coat, but those weren't the attributes that made her eyes wide at his approach. Instead, it was the pair of giant, blue wings that sprouted from his back which made her stare in awe.

"Does this place really let you port your implants in?" the girl asked, amazed by the level of body modification some people went to. She couldn't imagine what else could be the cause of such wild pairing of humanoid body with avian characteristics. The wings even looked like they sported real feathers, and not metal or plastoid facsimiles as she would have expected. "Your wings look a-mazing! Sorry I didn't answer you back in the real, we were kinda busy. I'm Daiya, and this is Cassus."

Daiya didn't hear what response that the winged man had for her, though she wasn't really listening, either, as someone shouted loud enough to be heard above the din. Her mouth dropped as she recognized the speaker, and she, too, had ported her myriad of implants into the tat-chat. It was hard to ignore the resemblance between the woman and her legendary counterpart, and until Frankie confirmed her identity, Daiya assumed this was one of the strange duplicates that she had helped Darkwire to apprehend, long before all the replicant nonsense had begun.

The girl closed her mouth at Frankie's no-karks-given tone, setting her jaw tight as the original Shadowrunner directed all their attention to the stage. She turned around, her eyes attending the stage area like a school girl, waiting for whoever it was that would take command of it to speak.

Cassus Akovin Anakin Stormrunner Ruby Jaxx Gray Venasir Xan Deesa Yula Perl Phalsi Drynchen Shenn Rosham Cartri Keswoll Mir Nehrahn Lance of Dreams Doc Painless​

 

[Gray Venasir]

It didn't take long before others began appearing in the white space as well. Gray recognized some of them, and some he didn't. "Hi... Shenn, was it?" he answered the elderly man who had appeared next to him. The man was familiar to Gray, from all the times the smuggler had been to The Blue Flame, but he was not very good at remembering names.

While Gray looked around, the surroundings suddenly changed, replaced by some sort of restaurant. Shortly after, he heard the cheery voice of a young friend. "Hey Daiya. Glad you're here too, wherever here is." Sadly, their reunion was cut short, with more and more people appearing in the "restaurant", and the young girl dragging Shenn, who Gray now got confirmation on the name of, away to a table. Cassus, and another person Gray had never seen before sat there, and it seemed to would be too crowdy if he also tried to sit with them. Instead, he made his way towards a nearby table, where a lone man ( Doc Painless ) Gray had also never seen was sitting. "Hey, mind if I sit down?"

Whatever the answer was, Gray didn't get the chacne to hear it, as someone began shouting nearby. He quickly sat down, and listened to what the woman who was shouting tried to say. "Wait, the Frankie? She is dead, how is this..." Gray whispered to himself, though loud enough for the man next to him to hear. Frankie was every bit what Gray would expect, though.

As the woman walked of the stage, Gray turned towards the man, though he did not why. Maybe because it was easier to understand things if it was spoken between someone. "If the Lance she is referring to is the one I know, I have a bad feeling about this. But what can he possibly know about the Corpo's business?"

Daiya | Shenn Rosham

 

[Phalsi Drynchen]

Phalsi directed her attention to the one who spoke with authority as the buzz of the gun ceased. It felt like someone had poked a sunburn in the short time it had taken to receive the thing, and she looked over what she could before settling in to watch the whole scene change. There was a strange smile about her features, watching intently the stage as she scanned around before finding a table very near front and center to the whole thing.

Daiya Cassus Akovin Anakin Stormrunner Ruby Jaxx Gray Venasir Xan Deesa Yula Perl Shenn Rosham Cartri Keswoll Mir Nehrahn Lance of Dreams Doc Painless​

 

[Kadora'Tra]

Understandably Cartri asked what she was going to do, but she merely shrugged at him. "An appointment. I'll tell you more once we're done." she commented before returning to her own devices.

From the corner of her eye she watched with a smirk as the tattoo artist messed around with Cartri. Clearly he wasn't an ink junkie like others on this planet. When he returned to her, she paid the artist for the work and led the way back to the apartment. She only looked back to him once they were on their own. "I take it the process wasn't enjoyable?" she quipped as she lightly bumped his shoulder.

Slipping her mask back on, she looked around then back to him. "I got a little meeting planned with that CorpSec kitten. The type she doesn't know she's gonna be having with me. I wanna find out as much info as I can on the corpos a d this mess with the copies. The heads I grabbed gave quite a bit of info but not as much as I had hoped. Seemed those copies of ours weren't very preem. Frankly, I'm a little insulted." she explained to him as they walked.

"So you're gonna have to take notes for me while I'm out. Once I'm done I'm gonna try to join in... hopefully it won't be over by then." she continued. She made sure to pass the infamous burger stand she frequented and got them both a little snack. By the time they arrived at the apartment, her burger was unfortunately finished.

She led the way in then looked to Cartri. "Make yourself comfortable then press the tattoo when it starts to blink. That's gonna essentially act like a VR set and send you into this type of lobby where you can talk with other people who also got the tattoo." she explained to him.

With that, she turned to leave and casually waved at him. "See you in a bit." she quipped before disappearing into the streets.

**********​

Xan had been extra careful with this operation. She had made very sure that this one was the real deal and not a copycat. And her infiltration was also extremely cautious.

Sitting in a dark corner of the Farghul's quarters, she wore a dark hoodie to hide her hair and her cybernetic eyes also changed colour from the usual gold to a completely black appearance. She sat still as a statue as she waited for Kadora to return home and make herself comfortable. She wanted to catch her when she was most vulnerable. It would simply make it easier.

When she was confident the time was right and Kadora's guard was completely down, she made her presence known.

"Hey Kitty." she spoke up with a chipper voice as her eyes lit up with the familiar gold she usually used. Slipping her mask back on, she rose to her feet and leaned against a wall as she waited to see what Kadora's first move was going to be. She couldn't afford to have the girl make a move to bust her presence.

Cartri Keswoll Kadora'Tra

More work to process. It felt as though her job never ended. There was always some fire to put out, either here on Denon or some other forsaken place pressed under the overbearing thumb of Diviak Manfloon and the DireX Board. Personally, Kadora'Tra had no idea why she was the one responsible for handling the press, something she definitely did not sign up for (if she signed up for anything at all). She cracked heads and was paid to lock it up and never think about it again, Why did she have to talk to people, especially when she was talking about crap she had nothing to do with? So what if Starlight's factory got completely totaled overnight by some terrorists? It wasn't Manfloon's business... unless he was trying to edge into Starlight's business territory by showcasing the responsiveness of his personal division of CorpSec. If that was his plan, she was fine with it for the most part, but she wanted to be in the know about it.

It had been total bad luck that she had to deal with the Sakedo Tower incident, just in the right place, in the right uniform, at the wrong time. Belazura was technically his territory, but even in the right place, at the right time, she couldn't help being in the wrong uniform. It took at least two weeks to remove all the sand from her fur... and then she was sent there again to deal with some... underwater squid or something; she was definitely in the wrong place there. It felt like a week for her to completely dry off. There were a few moments that weren't awful to remember though, like being brought to Frego essentially to cozy up to the Chancellor (which admittedly, was nice, but barely being briefed ahead of time was annoying), or the time she was let totally loose on Altier (that was a punishment that severely backfired on Manfloon... she couldn't get the taste of freedom out of her mind since).

As a teenager working full time as a ranking adult, Kadora'Tra had gotten tired. Tired of acting, tired of jumping around, tired of being someone else's clown. The CorpSec Captain walked barefoot, wearing a jacket she once stole in broad daylight, and lugging around a briefcase full of datapads. The feline woman unlocked her personal barracks quarters, which doubled as both an office, and a place to nap in a hammock when she was tired of pretending to be functional. She didn't bother turning on the lights, she could see just fine in the dark, and she didn't feel like pretending to be functional tonight. Tossing the case of datapads on her desk, she moved towards her hammock, before she stopped suddenly and sniffed in front of her. The glint of her eyes, reflected from the shaded windows, darted back and forth, There was a pause in the night, before she raised an arm to smell her pit.

"Hmm, it's not me... guess I need to clean..." Her voice trailed off into a mumble as she began removing her jacket, before freezing as she heard Xan's voice.

"I know you're usually pretty forward Xan, but I think this may be crossing a couple lines, no?" She quipped with a smile before continuing to remove the jacket. As the jacket slipped down from one arm, it hid her hand as she drew from a holster on the side of her chest, which she brandished as she turned around to face the voice. "Maybe a law or two?" She didn't fire, but made it apparent she was armed.

Xan Deesa