We Stand Between the Shackle and the Noose

The rest of the competitors and their mercenary crews trickled in over the course of the day. Next to their ships - large, robust things as heavily armed as they were armoured - the Pelekys looked like nothing more than a black smudge of soot that could just as easily be wiped away.

"Oh as if," was Viatrix's indignant reply when Elytra voiced this thought aloud, "Sure, we're smaller, but I've been scanning them all as they've come in, and we're definitely the faster ship, and none of them have any stealth capabilities! PLUS! All our Hyttan upgrades put us in a league apart! They try to mess with us, and they won't know what hit'em!"

"Fortune willing, we won't need to put that hypothetical into practice," Pryseia said, all of them in the middle of lunch in their mess hall, "Though we could doubtlessly do it, I would rather not have to fight our way through nearly a dozen mercenary companies."

Swallowing her own mouthful of food, Malakh added, "'Sides, it's better not to tip our hand this early in the tournament. Let them all think that we're a soft target. It'll be all the sweeter when it comes time to trounce them."

By the time sunset rolled around, all the ships had landed, their crews registered for the competition, and they all received a summons to meet in the activity centre. When they arrived inside, Elytra was struck again by the sharp contrast between the look of her crew and the mercenaries they'd be spending the next week with.

There were a smattering of thalatte across the assorted merc groups, as well as a single zymeth, but the rest of these crews were made up by members of the Greater and Lesser races. All of them were dressed in their space armour, helmets off for the most part, though most of them had thrown sturdy jackets or overalls over their attire, to at least try to blend in to this more civilian setting. Their empty weapon holsters spoiled that facade. Aside from the patches and emblems they all wore, denoting which merc band they belonged to, the reigning colour scheme in their clothing were drab shades sat firmly on the darker end of the colour spectrum.

The crew of the Pelekys, on the other hand, were rainbow bright by comparison, looking more like they were all on vacation rather than getting ready for a combat tournament.

In loose linen pants, a tank top and flats, Rhea had accented the creams of the rest of her outfit with a violently pink floral silk shirt, short sleeved and opened loose as she stood there, hands in her pockets and towering over everyone, and as was her preference, her neck, ears, fingers, and wrists were bedecked in jewellery, her vedja pendant purposefully a focal point at her throat.

Next to her, Malakh was still blinking focus back into her eyes, having completely lost track of time while in the middle of working on some last minute modifications to Viatrix's stealth drone, still dressed in the coveralls and work boots she'd thrown over her casual clothes, as they'd had to haul her bodily away, so locked in to what she'd been doing. The coveralls - a burnt brown colour - were the closest any of them had to the mercenaries' fashion, though the look was spoiled by the fact that she'd unzipped the upper part of it and tied it around her waist, the short sleeves of her graphic tee shoved up past her biceps, with the garishly bright logo of a band Elytra vaguely remembered Malakh mentioning at some point splattered across the front of the atomic yellow shirt, her own vedja pendant sitting skewed where it had slipped out of the neck of her shirt.

Nevara, meanwhile, was wearing a summery dress that faded from a powder green across the shoulders, to a deep emerald where it came to her knees, a sage green wrap visible between the artful folds and drapery of the garment, and matching the colour of the strappy sandals she wore. It and the deep green makeup she wore seemed to soften her angular physique somehow, made her look less intimidating, which was clearly the point. Elytra had seen her wearing similar dresses aboard the Pelekys countless times, but she'd gone out of her way to look demure for the mercenaries. Clearly she'd taken Malakh's suggestion of being underestimated to heart.

Proper food and exercise had done wonders for V'tala's own physique, shadows catching in the divots of the pronounced muscles of her neck and bare arms, the sky blue tank top she wore tight enough to do little to hide the shape of her obliques and abs as she stood there with her arms crossed. Likewise, the slim fit dark grey pants she wore nicely showed off the returned musculature of her legs, further heightened by the black ankle boots with heels enough to bring her calves to prominence. This display, along with her unsettlingly pale colouring, had caught the eye of several of the usgaisjans from the first ship that had arrived that morning. She seemed oblivious to their ardent appraisal.

Beside her, Pryseia was dressed in a thin, long sleeved shirt, though she'd rolled said sleeves up to her elbows, two of the four buttons at the neck of it undone. The bright purple of the shirt was highlighted by the white pants she had on, tight enough to disappear into the knee high leather boots she wore, the warm brown of them accented by the gold buckles that ran up their outsides. Standing there with her hands on her hips, both her eyes matching for once, she looked less a seasoned mech pilot and more a socialite about to get up to some equestrian activities.

For her own attire, Elytra had opted for a comfortable sweater she'd picked up on vacation at Osatiawjo, the tan and red of its knit going nicely with the burnt umber skirt she'd bought on the Quanvengier, and the warm grey sneakers she'd fabricated from the auto-tailor aboard the Pelekys when she first arrived on the ship. Glancing across the gathered crowd, she could feel the dampening pendant Malakh had made for her clicking against her plates as she moved, and if anyone was having any unkind thoughts in her general direction, the pendant was doing its job and preventing her from feeling them.

With her hands in her pockets, she idly rolled the open communication device she had between her fingers, making sure it was pointed towards the front of the crowd. They'd all agreed to keep Viatrix's drones on the ship and away from anyone's notice, to play up the fiction that she was nothing more than a basic VI for the strangers they were surrounded by on all sides. Anything to keep suspicious eyes away from them, with their heist still days away from launching. Still, they didn't want her uninformed of the goings on of this tournament, so they'd made sure to have at least one communicator up and running in their group so she could listen in, the signal of it thankfully weak enough to not trigger any of the scanners rigged up to keep an eye out for suspicious activities.

Unlike when they'd first had a tour of the place, there was a small stage set up against the wall at the back of the dining area, the tables and chairs pushed off to the side to make room enough for the dozen crews, which all together couldn't have been more than a hundred people. Just as Elytra was beginning to wonder if they were supposed to start mingling, music began to play through the speakers tucked into the upper corners of the room, and a troop of those gaudily armoured Necupole guards emerged from one of the side entrances, a pair of unarmoured necupole in their midst. They were both artfully androgynous, orange eyed and golden haired, the style half shaved short while the other fell in a long sheet to about mid chest, one of the pair shaved on the right, the other on the left. To keep with this symmetry, they were wearing matching robes, heavily structured so that they looked like twin tornadoes of glitter and lace, the cant of each of their outfits facing in the direction of their shaved sides. They waved and smized to the crowd like they were celebrities at a premier, posing for the camera, but if they were famous, Elytra hadn't the faintest idea what for.

The pair of them, twin whirls of platinum, spun up to the stage to take mirrored bows, waving to the crowd once more as the one on the left effused, "Salutations! I am Tolla Vyrinschlde-"

"And I am Kassi Vyrinschlde-" the other bubbled, before together they exclaimed, "And we are once again your hosts for this, the 69th Elstree Docklands Tournament!"

There was a smattering of polite applause at this announcement, the mercenaries - who had no doubt been subjected to this display in tournaments past - looking like they were waiting for the pair to hurry up and get on with whatever it was they were supposed to be getting on with.

Undeterred by this lukewarm reception, Tolla beamed as they looked over the crowd. "I see we've got some newcomers among the sea of familiar faces this time around, so we'll go over some ground rules so everyone's on the same page."

"Firstly, outside of the pilots who will be escorted from the premises for their matches, we request that all non-necupole remain within the activity centre or their ships. There's a lot of business conducted on Trowsorab, and we don't want any proprietary secrets escaping when you all head off on your merry little ways!" Kassi carried on, giggling softly at the thought.

Picking up after them seamlessly, Tolla continued, "Secondly, for the sake of the smooth operations of the tournament, everyone's expected to follow the same schedule. Wake up for all participants is scheduled for 7 in the morning, with breakfast served at 8, with matches scheduled to begin at 10. Ever as always, the matches will be broadcast to you all here, as well as to everyone across the Plutocracy! Lunch will be served at 14, and dinner at 20, after which you'll all be free to mingle as you will here in the activity centre until, curfew, which is at 25, when you'll all be escorted to your ships for the night."

"You'll want to make sure you're in bed by 26 if you want to get a proper ten hours of beauty sleep!" Kassi added with a wink, "Libations will be provided, but we do request that competing pilots refrain from overindulging. Don't want to clang around in a tin can with a hangover, now do you?"

"But if you've been eliminated," Tolla added in a theatrical whisper, "Feel free to drown your sorrows!"

Laughing dramatically at that, Kassi grinned at the crowd, telling them, "Due to an assortment of incidents during previous tournaments, the activity centre will be monitored at all times. We want to make sure no one's getting up to any funny business that could interfere with the matches, after all!"

The two then twirled around each other once more before striking a pose, Tolla saying, "If you have any other question, feel free to reach out to your patrons for clarification-"

"But beyond that," Kassi finished, "Please, enjoy your stay!"

As the pair of them once again took mirrored bows, Elytra couldn't help the snort of laughter that escaped her at that. Being confined to this outbuilding and their ships for the duration of the tournament was hardly the welcoming experience these two were making it out to be. Glancing around at the mercenaries as the two hosts made their flashy exit under guard, Elytra witnessed more than a few of them rolling their eyes at the pair.

Soon enough, the music died down, and they were all left to their own devices. That's when most of the mercs turned to face the six of them.

"So, you're the Kith crew Erkanschlde hired on to replace her lost pilot, huh?" A fiskaz woman asked, her pale blue eyes striking against the deep onyx of her scales, "Which of you is here to uphold Ahesa's losing streak?"

"I'm here to win the tournament in their name." Pryseia replied as she stepped towards the woman, her tone polite and professional, while her voice rang with a clear challenge.

The fiskaz let out a bark of laughter at that, stepping closer as she extended one leg and dipped with the slightest of bows as she said, "Sailarnaalha, captain of the Phantom Pack. Good to see Erkanschlde picked someone with a spine."

Giving a small bow of her own, a hand over her heart, Pryseia said, "Killzar Pryseia of the Pelekys. I understand that it's your crew who have secured victory for the last three tournaments."

"That would be my best mech pilot, Gelimp," Sailarnaalha said, waving over at one of her crew, "And xe's looking to round that up to four this year."

It was a meleten who stepped forward at the summons, xir skin a rich brown, while xir hair was the colour of wrought iron, short but swept forward in a daring swoop. With xir amber eyes glittering in delight, xe turned to Pryseia with a nod and said, "I'm hoping you're at least a good as Ahesa was. They, at least, could actually put up a fight."

"I promise you, I will do more than that." Pryseia returned with a grin, and Gelimp looked inordinately pleased at that.

Sailarnaalha then cast an appraising look across the rest of them before her eyes landed on the lone zymeth in the throng, her smile turning predatory as she demanded, "And you're the Injakwagh, right? So which out of you is the pilot for FHN?"

The zymeth took a step forward, their lithe body swaying briefly with the momentum of the movement, their eyes so completely black that Elytra couldn't tell what they were actually looking at. Then, like a memory rising unbidden, a voice rang through her mind. "I am Captain Tyeku of the Injakwagh, and it is my most cunning Bulle who you all shall be facing."

A fuglaz stepped up next to them, their beaked face seemed pulled into a sombre expression, but there was a friendliness to their russet eyes that brightened them against their dark brown plumage as they nodded to them all. "Bulle Billi. I look forward to going up against your best."

Sailarnaalha nodded in return, her grin tugging up over her fangs as she let out another laugh, saying, "Good. Friendlies. We've dealt with enough antagonizers in past tournaments, enough that the necupole cracked down on us with all these surveillance measures. Last thing we need is for any of you newcomers to set them off worse for next year. I'd hate to be further inconvenienced for the sake of an easy paycheck."

That got a rumble of laughter out of the gathered mercenaries, and even with her dampening necklace in place, Elytra could still feel some of the tension bleeding out of the room. It wasn't lost on her the amount of people whose arms relaxed next to the empty holsters at their sides, instincts having them readying for a fight with so many unknowns, even as unarmed as they were.

With the threat of potential hostility quelled, the mood in the activity centre quickly became loose and celebratory. Most of the mercs already knew each other, either from past tournaments, or through reputation alone, which left the crew of the Pelekys as the novelty in the loose gathering. Rhea and Pryseia were in their element, however, quickly charming their way through the crowd, and it wasn't long before they had a gaggle of hardened mercs around them, laughing like they were all old friends just catching up.

One by one, the rest of them got pulled into conversations as well - Malakh when someone started talking parts specifications, and her ears immediately perked up, and she was hauled into a heated but jovial debate about engines that went completely over Elytra's head. Nevara had tried to slip away unnoticed, but she was recognized by one of the thalatte mercs, one who had apparently survived their own time in the Thalatte navy only because Nevara's piloting had gotten their squad out of a situation that should have resulted in the entire unit being wiped out. This ended up drawing in a crowd of other pilots, and though she was very clearly not fussed about all the attention at first, once the conversation steered into more general territory, she loosened up, even cracking a few jokes about the worst atmospheres she'd ever flown through.

V'tala ended up getting cornered by the group of usgaisjans who had been admiring her all night, though she looked far from pleased at all the attention. Elytra meant to go over and make some excuse to draw her away, but a group of koleopterans pulled her into a conversation before she could do more than take a step forward, and all too soon a bright chime was ringing through the room, before a voice announced over the speakers, "Fifteen minutes before curfew, please return to your ships."

Everyone broke back up into their separate crews then, and V'tala joined them looking stone faced and flushed, making sure to stand so that the towering form of Rhea completely blocked her from the sight of the usgaisjans.

"You okay?" Rhea asked, immediately looking like she was a word away from going over there and flattening whoever V'tala pointed out. Instead, V'tala just flushed a darker shade of sea green and said, "I've discovered that I don't appreciate the attention of men."

"Tell me about it," Rhea said sympathetically, though a smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she asked, "What about the attention of women?"

V'tala only blushed even harder, refusing to meet her eye.

Stepping up so she could bump her shoulder against Rhea's, Pryseia interrupted, "Well I, for one, am looking to turn my attention towards sleep. The tournament begins on the morrow, and I would rather be well rested when I face off against one of these fine folk."

"And I, for one, can't wait to see you win," Malakh said with a wink, "I think I am going to overindulge in libations tomorrow night."

Catching on to the devious undertone threading through her words, Rhea said, "Be careful, babe, you know that drinking too much makes you sleepy."

Nevara gave her a solemn nod as she said, "Should she become too inebriated, I can escort her back to the ship."

Elytra almost said something, about how Malakh was more than able to hold her drink, how she got wired more than tired on alcohol, but then she just grinned, realizing this ploy for what it was - setting up an excuse for their early disappearance from the celebration that would no doubt be happening for the victors of the first round.

"Yeah, right" Elytra instead added with a grin as she turned to Nevara, "You just want an excuse to catch up on your beauty sleep."

Her mandibles clicking together in mirth, Nevara simply said, "Guilty as charged."