050: The Tools of Acquisition – Five
The command centre on Cazorini was a little cramped with the entire crews of both the Pelekys and the Sudoxe crammed into the main room, but with the auction set to begin in a scant few hours, everyone was keen on running through the plan one last time.
"So if they do end up having followers after they make their escape, it'll be up to you," Saiwa said as she gestured to her own squad of mech pilots, "And the Pelekys' mech team to keep aggressors off our backs until we can make good on our escape."
Furista, the reddish blonde mech squad leader, grinned over at Guthan as she said, "Hopefully this won't be a repeat of Wakkrill."
That got an eye roll so forceful out of Guthan that it threw her head back along with it. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"
"Not so long as that's going to be your reaction about it." Furista replied with a chuckle.
"Anyway," Saiwa shot the pair of them a fond grin as she steered the conversation back on track, "So long as this doesn't go like Wakkrill, by this time tomorrow we'll be halfway across the galaxy delivering the goods, and the big reason for that is because of the Pelekys and her crew. So Pryseia, on behalf of me and mine, thanks for answering our posting. You've really saved our asses."
Pryseia gave her a slight bow, saying, "We've not yet crowned ourselves in victory, but rest assured that my crew and I will perform to the utmost of our abilities. New as we are to the Kith's folds, we appreciate the opportunity you've given us with this collaboration."
Chela smiled softly. "Don't diminish your accomplishments, you've taken to the Kith life quite naturally. Your successes are sure to be plentiful."
"That means a lot coming from a crew as renowned as yours." Rhea told her with all sincerity.
"You'll be as infamous as we are soon enough, especially after tonight," Guthan's grin was one of wicked delight, "Now, anything else before we get dressed for the part?"
"I'll need to give you the injection now, let it circulate through your system." Husan said with a nod over to Rhea.
"And you'll need to hop over to our ship so you and Guthan can take the shuttle out of the subgate together," Saiwa added, "But you've got time enough to get ready on your own ship before then."
"I better start pregaming then," Rhea grinned, "I have a feeling it's gonna be a long night."
Dinner was halfway finished cooking by the time Rhea came back to the Pelekys, Pryseia and Elytra in the kitchen portion of the mess hall while Nevara and Malakh were running through the last minute checklist at the table with Viatrix.
"That smells fantastic," Rhea announced as she stepped into the mess hall, "And I am ready to dig into that. Getting injections always make me ravenous."
"That's because you're odd." Nevara joked as Rhea joined them at the table, and so Rhea flipped her off with a grin.
"It should reach full saturation in about an hour or so, so I'd like to run a scan just to make sure I'm registering as necupole. Last thing we need is a hiccup this close to the finish line."
"I agree," Nevara said as she shoved a data pad over the table to her, "The auto-tailor finished with your outfit for the event, and so have the fabricators with your jewellery."
Malakh gave an unbelieving little scoff at that. "The Kith resource database had the schematics for so many designer, brand name pieces, and the quality on them was unparalleled. They're not going to be able to tell you're wearing knockoffs without getting them under a microscope."
"Makes sense. They've been in the game long enough to have acquired one hell of a resource pool," Rhea said as she went over the pieces she'd be wearing shortly, "And audiences love it when the Necupole have one pulled over on them, so I'm not shocked they've got so much of their 'exclusive' stuff within their databases."
Flickering from her console, Viatrix said, "Some of the math that's gone into the design of Necupole jewellery is densely, geometrically complex. If I had a body, I don't know if I'd want to wear any, but they're nice to look at, at least."
"Yeah, I think they're more about high fashioned than comfort," Malakh said as she leaned over Rhea's shoulder to check out the 3D model of a necklace she'd be wearing later than night, "This one looks more like a neck brace than anything."
"One must always suffer for beauty." Rhea replied, her voice pitching up into a breathy octave, a mimicry of the manner she's been studying of how Necupole citizens talked.
"Alright, no data pads at the table during dinner," Elytra joked as she and Pryseia came over with plates and platters, "You'll spoil you appetites!"
"Dessert will have to wait until after you're back, as it still needs time to become as of yet." Pryseia added, winking at Rhea.
"You gonna tell me what it is?" She asked with a wink of her own.
"And spoil you victory surprise?" Pryseia shot back, mock aghast, "I simply refuse!"
Malakh ended up helping Rhea get dressed for the event. She would have much rather helped her out of the dress and jewellery rather than into them, though this was less due to their normal night time activities, and more because of the fact that everything about Necupole fashion seemed to be designed around being as uncomfortable as possible.
"Oof, you were more on the money than you realized when you said this piece was like a neck brace!" Rhea winced as she held the complicated piece in place while Malakh closed the clasp to it behind her. It looked like a stack of gold, octagonal rings haphazardly wedged into one another, each one deceptively strong even though each ring was relatively thin. It made turning one's head not really worth the effort.
"What were you saying about suffering for beauty?" Malakh asked rhetorically, brushing Rhea's hair back into place once she was done, "It'll just be for a few hours. You've endured worse."
Snorting out an incredibly inelegant laugh, Rhea said, "I also had a bomb strapped to my face to keep me in line, so there's nothing to keep me from losing it in this getup."
"Well that's not true at all," Malakh dropped her voice to a seductively lower octave, "I know you can be on your best behaviour."
Rhea closed her eyes, heaving a sigh as she said, "Don't say things like that when I'm about to head into enemy territory."
"Sorry," Malakh laughed, sounding anything but, "I'll be on my best behaviour, how about that?"
"Ugh, worse, because I can't do anything about it." Rhea groaned.
Malakh let out a quiet chuckle, her hand reaching up to hold Rhea's chin. "Just keep your eyes closed, baby, I'm gonna do your makeup now."
Rhea huffed but did what was asked of her, the cold press of the makeup applicator a sharp contrast to the warmth of Malakh's hand.
They were silent for the scant minutes it took for the process to be completed, the applicator whirring as it stamped the designs typical for an upscale event like this across Rhea's face and arms. Eventually, Malakh gave the all clear, and Rhea blinked open her eyes to take in her appearance.
In the mirror of their bathroom, a stranger stared back at her. Her platinum blonde hair was slicked back, falling in a sheet down her back, complementing the pale gold of the dress and jewellery she was wearing. The dress was a sleeveless thing, a neckline plunging past her naval with slits running from mid thigh to mid shin. The fabric shone like polished metal, and seemed to be etched in octagonal lines so fine it almost looked like the entire thing was covered in circuitry.
The shoes had stiletto heels almost as long as her hand, interlocking plates running from her toes to her knees, looping around the backs of her calves with rows upon rows of thin chains that made them look half armour, half sandal. The belt at her waist also had the look of plates of armour chained together, but these, at least, served the more practical purpose of being storage space for the assorted bits and bobs Rhea was going to need for the mission.
Like the necklace (the neck brace, she couldn't think of it as anything but), the earrings were a series of octagonal rings, concentric but offset in a way that reminded her of the wind spinners that hung in the garden of her childhood home. The rings that adorned her fingers, in contrast to that, looked more like the articulated joints of an armoured gauntlet, each one linked to a chain that was attached to a small plate on the back of her hand (which was inset with scintillating diamonds), which in turn was attached by chains to the bracelet around her wrist, and then with more chains to a metal band that sat at the crook of her elbow.
Up the outside of her arms were stamped more octagons, each one in a mirror finished ink that made it look like she's had liquid platinum injected directly into her skin. These designs then ran from the hinges of her jaw to her temples down either side of her face, arching in thickly across her eyelids in a way that made her eyes seem even larger and more alien than they had with the artificial blue colour they'd been temporarily changed to. A darker colour had been used to bring out the depths of her under eyes and cheek bones, while her lips were limned in chrome-lustre platinum of her octagon decorations.
Unthinkingly, she reached a hand up to touch her lips, enchanted by the artifice of it all, but she caught herself before she made contact, saying, "Whoops, don't wanna smudge that."
To her left, dressed as the Queen's Red Left Hand already, Malakh told her, "Don't worry, this stuff is built to last. You have to use the makeup remover to get it off, so you don't have to worry about leaving lipstick stains on your wine glass or anything."
Turning to her, Rhea reversed their earlier position by holding Malakh by the chin, tilting her head up enough to give her a chaste kiss on the lips.
"That's too bad. I think this colour would have looked good on you." She said, dropping her own voice an octave.
Malakh tried to look perturbed as she rolled her eyes, but her grin gave her away. "Come on, Bathory and the Hand need to get into position."
"Oh I wish, honey." Rhea returned with a grin of her own, "But we've still gotta build up to that."
"I cannot believe that you of all people are the love of my life." Malakh grumbled, stepping away to stop herself from giving into temptation, her eyes bright with laughter.
Rhea followed along after her, smiling from ear to ear as she said, "Right? Lucky you."
The crew of the Pelekys stood gathered near one of the closed personnel ramps of their ship, everything cast in a faint, red glow from the displays that bore the Program's avatar competing with the dim lighting of the hall. Queen Kaizoku stared impassively down the hall, her Red Left Hand next to her with her arms crossed and leaning against the wall. Across from them, General Grim stood so stiffly at attention that it would have been easy to assume she'd been paralysed into such a position, while Madame Augury twitched at her side, as if being subjected to a million different conversations coming from all directions.
Then, like a pale spectre emerging from the gloom, Chancellor Bathory turned the corner, every sway of her steps causing different part of her ensemble to be highlighted in lurid red.
"You certainly look the part." Grim said once Bathory reached the rest of them, her mandibles clicking together once as she gave her a once over.
"And now you will have to play the part." Kaizoku said, touching a panel along the wall to open up the personnel ramp. It yawned open to reveal a starlit night beyond, half obscured by clouds in the distance.
Giving her a nod, Queen Kaizoku stepped away, Grim and Augury falling into step behind her.
The Hand remained, impassive as she regarded the Chancellor.
With her shoes, the height difference between the two of them was even more pronounced, and Bathory smirked down at the other woman. "What, no words of good luck for me?"
Motionless except for the gaze she dragged up Bathory's body, it was several seconds before the Hand spoke. "You still smell the same."
An emotion flickered across Bathory's face, too quick to be read before it was drawn back into a smirk as she replied, "That's because I only wear expensive perfume."
The slightest tick of an eyebrow was the only movement the Hand allowed herself, the pair of them staring at one another in silence for a tense moment, before Bathory broke it by turning around and descending the ramp. She didn't bother turning around as she heard it slide back into place behind her, but the Hand kept her eyes on her until the ramp hid her from view.
It was only a short walk to the Sudoxe's command centre, and Chancellor Bathory let herself in, heading towards the main room. Once there, she spoke aloud, "Bathory to the Sudoxe. Ready at your leisure."
She received no response, but a moment later the sounds of ship engines starting up could be heard. Lot long after that, the entire building shuddered as the noise was abruptly cut out. Letting out a noiseless laugh, the Chancellor walked back out of the command centre, though when she exited, she was no longer stepping out onto a field of an alien world.
The clack of metal on metal rang out as she stepped into the Sudoxe's cargo hold, a handful of mechs in the far distance, while an ornate, golden shuttle lay just a short way away.
"Well look at you," Averral purred as she shoved off from where she'd been leaning against the ostentatious ship, "I'd say you were necupole born and bred if I didn't know better."
The deorviran had traded her casual attire for a close fitted suit that looked more like the under layer that armour would be attached to. Matte black, it would cover her head to toe, though the hood was pushed currently back, the front half provocatively unsealed.
"A pity this mission requires stealth," Averral said with a sigh, "I would have liked to take you for a spin."
Bathory huffed out a laugh as she strode past the other woman and into the shuttle, only responding with, "I'm sure."
Averral followed after her, her gaze lingering and her grin appreciative.
Taking a seat in the pilot's chair, Chancellor Bathory began running through the pre-flight check, systems humming to life around them.
Taking the seat to her right, Averral called out, "Shuttle ready for launch, awaiting your signal."
"Confirmed," Claret responded, "Two minutes out to the drop off point, we'll signal when we're ready to demat you."
"Two minutes, not nearly enough time." Averral said with a pout, "Such a shame."
"You really are relentless, aren't you?" The Chancellor replied with a slow smirk.
Averral returned one of her own, saying, "If the catch is worth the hunt."
"Careful, or you'll end up with teeth around your neck."
"Promises, promises."
The Chancellor turned back to the task at hand, flipping switches and tapping against the assorted displays, and Averral just rolled her eyes, slumping back casually in her seat.
"Ten seconds to demat." Claret's voice returned shortly.
"Confirmed." The Chancellor replied, settling her hands on the controls.
Shortly thereafter, the view outside the cockpit of the Necupole shuttle abruptly changed from the industrial lighting of the cargo hold, to the pale iridescent haze of subspace.
"Good luck," came Captain Sharp's voice over the comms, "We'll see you at the rendezvous point."
"You can count on it, Captain." Averral responded as the Chancellor steered the ship to the coordinates for the subgate they'd need to exit into their target system.
"Running a communicator check." Averral announced, and the Chancellor nodded for her to proceed.
AVERRAL: Channel linked, confirm?
BATHORY: Confirmed.
"Good, at least I know I'm in your head in at least one manner." Averral said as she settled more comfortably in her seat.
"Temporarily," the Chancellor emphasized, "I'm digging this communicator out myself the moment this mission is complete."
"Too bad, these things have quite the range."
The Chancellor only responded with a scoff.
Soon enough she arrived at the coordinates, where a massive ring structure hung, jarringly dark against the light of subspace. Punching in commands on the console before her, the Chancellor soon had the subspace gate opening before her, and she exited out into normal space.
The flight to Miasferr was a short one, the ship juddering as it entered atmosphere.
"Sharp was right about this being a junker," the Chancellor grimaced as she fought the controls, "I haven't had this rough of an atmospheric reentry since I went for my learners license!"
"All style, no substance," Averral let out a derisive laugh, "The Necupole can only engineer finances, not anything material."
Eventually their flight smoothed out, and the Chancellor set course for their destination. It wasn't long before the exterior of the Aaur Niikaschlde Centre came into view, and Averral pulled her hood up, tucking her mane away before she sealed the suit.
"I'll be your shadow until we get into the warehouse, so try not to get into trouble sooner than expected." Averral said, her voice coming out electronically muffled.
"I could say the same of you." The Chancellor replied, shooting her a challenging look.
Averral laughed at that, and a moment later completely vanished from sight.
AVERRAL: What's that human saying? Party pooping?
BATHORY: Party pooper.
AVERRAL: Yes, that was it. You're being a party pooper.
BATHORY: Someone has to keep their eyes on the prize.
AVERRAL: Oh believe me, I am.
The Chancellor hummed out a brief laugh as she finalized the shuttle's landing sequence, and moments later the ship rocked as it touched down. Powering down the systems, she stood and made for the exit, closing up the ship slowly so that her unseen companion had enough time to follow after her.
Warehouse though the Centre was, it was adorned and lit up like a red carpet premier. Throngs of pale necupole were mingling outside, pleasant orchestral music playing from some unseen source. The Chancellor easily made her way to the queue, and was soon before the bouncer. She wordlessly pulled her ID and ticket from her belt, and the bouncer took them equally without a word, handing the ID back once a confirmatory BEEP! sounded from the check in device.
"Welcome to the Aaur Niikaschlde Centre, have a pleasant evening."
Nodding her thanks, the Chancellor stepped inside.
AVERRAL: Easy part over, now the real fun begins!