Mia Mereel
Character
Challenge Accepted
LOCATION: Strill Securities’ Darasuum Morut-class Super-heavy Battlecruiser, The Darasuum Morut, their Flag Ship, VIP Landing Bay 1E.
Objective: Get a job, don’t get killed.
Equipment: Cybernetics, Leather-looking armor, all stun weaponry.
Tags: [
Saram Kote
] [ Nyles Kote ] [ Medrit Kote ] [ Russ Kote ] [Kil Kote ] [ Ruhr Kote ] [ Aran Netra ] [ Aenarr Kyrr ]Strill Securities !
Fething Strill Securities.
Just thinking the name, realizing she was aboard their flag ship, sent a powerful shudder of awe and tension down Mia’s spine. The chains on her minicomp and armored cloak (and yes, Aunt, it IS armor) jingled from the subtle movement. The exquisite, alto chord of the chiming metal was both low pitched and pure enough to reveal that the chains were made of a beskar-alloy. A few faces, mostly mechanics or pilots, swiveled to study her as the pure sound carried easily through the quiet commotion of landing bay 1E. Sure, it was a terrible alloy, if you meant to use it for armor. Mia helped her little Vod, Silver, make it, and both of them were very proud of it.
Strill Securities would probably want to use it as a weapon!
Not that anyone at Strill would really be interested in an alloy meant only for the bes'bev; they had the very best materials for their own gear. Custom made, by Shuklar Krydol himself. The best in defense, security and mercenary units, too. Especially sheb’la security. Of course, the reason that they were so very good was because they’d had to be, just to survive. Like her own family, they had no planet or home to turn to. Just themselves, and the vast beauty of space.
… and Breshig Warforge, of course, despite all they had been through.
Mandalorians who lost their way could do so much harm. Armorless, gloveless, her hand rose to touch the forlorn symbol of the lost Clan, the unnatural chill of her silver wrist-bracers a painful breath upon her cheek, the Clan Fett earrings a cool threat upon her skin.
Cryoban, fukcing yeah!
Top-of-the-line stun and snare weapons; no one sneered at those. Looking up from her long abstraction, she waved at the curious, setting the chains to chiming once more, the silvery wristbands adding a deeper note. It had been hard (and expensive!) to get them to chime in harmony. And to be silenced by cyberware-linked circuitry when she needed to be quiet. A little misdirection could go a long way, really. Get people used to the three-point harmony of boots, bracelets and chains and it was much easier to slip away unnoticed when the sounds were muffled.
Not that she would sneak away here; they were too good. Nor was she lost, exactly.
She flashed a brilliant, disarming smile at a handsome, stern officer. He seemed wary; defensive. What was he protecting from her? Laughter danced in her eyes, the thrill of a challenge and a sure-fire instinct for mischief telegraphed in her grin.
Mia wasn’t sure if he was security personnel, flight staff or deck crew, but he had been near enough to have recognized the unique sounds of her gear. He kept a wary eye on her, as she circled in wider and wider arcs around her small, shiny new Enclave ship, whilst awaiting the promised (ok, threatened) escort to her interview. She drifted closer to him, curious what he was so protective of.
Purposeful, disciplined activity well mixed with cheerful slang, sassy swear words and the occasional laugh was all around her. These people did not seem lost, either. Yet the icy forests, shattered mines and decimated people of Breshig-the-planet likely tormented them. Beneath all their ferocity, intense competence and hidden grief, did the terrible hope of somehow repairing their planet and going home linger? Mia no longer hoped to go home; Naboo had taught her better. So instead of finishing up her second doctorate, shopping for a few miles of land and enjoying an intense and very safe life of intellectual exploration, she was determined to explore the universe.
In person.
Despite all her family had done to try to talk her out of it.
Which had led to that most memorable Cyber-dual with NSSD 01-01 GNV00. What a droid! Oya! Really, GINVO had to forgive her sooner or later for shortening his designation. She couldn’t be the first meat-bag to call him Ginvo! It was so natural an extension of his status as the very first, fully operational prototype of the now-famed anti-Slicer Droid. He had detected her very subtle intrusion much earlier than she’d hoped, and chased her all about the system. Still, she felt he’d been just a little frustrated that her refusal to cross into any Red or high security zones had limited what he was allowed to throw at her. His Tar Baby attacks had crashed four of her penetrating programs, and his Grey Ice had damn near locked her consciousness in a very attractive alternate reality. Haar’chak! but it’d been hard to walk away from that. And he’d been playing nice!
But she’d finally gotten her trace-and-plant in, confirming her appointment mere hours away. Sneaking away in the night, all of her personal gear parceled out between her ship and her two tiny droids, Bait and Flux had been it’s own adventure. Bait lurked near her ship, a pure-silver standard BB-series Astromech droid, though she’d gotten him a cutting edge gravity belt. The matte-black Flux was her constant companion, a fancy MSF variant Mouse Droid. Even now, shadowing her, he carried most of her slicing tools. Too bad she didn’t dare use them to see what that shadow was, behind the Officer.
Laughter danced through Mia’s gaze, as her attention drifted away from him to study the flight deck once more. Her Cyber-hand lightly brushed over the bulkhead of this nearly-finished flag ship, the sensitive sensors of her hand and cyber-eye studying the complex circuitry and rare alloys eagerly. Familiar blind spots, cyber-security at its finest, blocked her onboard HUD’s passive sensors from properly following the lines of circuitry and plumbing endemic to any functioning ops center. Very good! So many folks forgot to mask the fuel lines from passive sensors. It was one reason why it was so darn easy for borders to blow-up a ship they couldn't take.
A soft, blue Restricted Access sign formed before her eyes, visible to her onboard HUD. Laughter escaped, and she leaned on the bulkhead, waving at the upper deck observation dome, certain even such a mild, passive scan had irritated the aggressively competent Ginvo, despite the very polite, steadily-growing-in-intensity warning sign.
Such a mix of polite and pissed-off had been the hallmark of her day so far, starting from the moment she’d hypered in for her appointment!
The irritated personnel of the Capital Ship had used a planetary mapping radar/sonar ping to on her ship’s hull from such close range that the flag ship had ‘accidentally’ burnt out her forward radar, and scrambled about half of the navigation systems. Tractor beams had pinned her ship in place and forcibly landed her shiny new ship, rather than simply asking her to slave her navigation to their Sragivagr Control Suite. She had been smart enough to hyper in with all of her weapons already powered down, but she was confident they’d have had an answer for that, too. Maybe some commandos boarding her ship? That might have been fun, actually. Another lost opportunity to see just how good they were.
Oh, they were good; despite her genius with computers, she’d had to work to slice into even the most mundane systems. She’d managed to place her appointment on the Calendar, but GINVO had been skilled enough that she wasn’t even sure who it was with.
Or how long her alteration to their schedule would last; that was why she’d hypered in a mere hour or so after her cyber intrusion. She didn’t want anyone to forget that she was expected, and accidentally shoot her. See? Proof she wasn’t half as reckless as Omen claimed.
Straightening from her lean on the bulkhead, Mia all but danced over to the Officer, eyes gleaming, as she leaned to look past him. “Ooh, hot damn, but she’s lovely! Are tanks ‘she,’ like ships are?” The Tank that filled her vision and delighted every single sensor she owned gleamed in solitary splendor. So many subsystems were being tested and re-checked that on first glance, Mia had taken the predatory glory of the tank for a repair vehicle. But ooh, that main gun!
Another brilliant laugh, and Mia slipped closer still, reaching out her Cyber-hand, words tumbling from her in helpless deight. “”Kandosii! Fucking gloroius!! What did you do? That armor … I’ve never seen anything like it. Sensors, micro circuitry, some sort of power flux system. Does it make sure you have power for your main cannon?” her head shook. That wasn’t quite right, but she hadn’t quite traced through the myriad of new tech when a chorus of voices commanded,
DON’T TOUCH.
“Sounds like home already.”
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