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Mauve Apple Dreamer
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"So, what kind of ship do you have?" I ask all casually, like the smooth son of a bitch I am. Zei rolls her eyes. Yeah, she's jealous she doesn't have half the natural charisma I do. Even with half a trashcan bolted to my face. I think that adds to the charm, really.
Well, okay, it's just the metal eye. Pretty useful. I usually keep the augmented reality stuff off, though. Too distracting.
"I am currently lacking a ship! Wait. No. I mean! I am lacking a ship but I know where to get one? I am-" The fish thing rambles on until it looks past me, turns and starts running. I figure it's a good idea to see what-
Behind me, or, well, in front of me now, stands a seven foot tall monster of a machine. Sleeker than the leech's bulky suit, it's humanoid, tall, powerful, white with reams and reams of red light strips dancing over it like some primal symbol or external circulatory system. Powered armour, with a distinctly avian helmet.
"If you are looking for a pilot, human, you would do better than to associate with the likes of whom you were just speaking with," it speaks, in a modulated voice kind of like talking into an active fan. "I am Seret, Flock Fireblood. I have flown across the surfaces of stars. I have seen the Screamers as they preyed on the unwary. I have torn apart the hivers from the outer reaches. I will soon be departing this station in my ship, the Corvian Rise, for whatever destination I see fit."
"That's all very nice, birdy, but how do I know you didn't just chase off the competition?" I can't believe I'm such a valuable client. Oh. No, I can believe that fine. Fucking hell, Zei.
Zei smiles and reaches out a hand. "Seret! Hi there, you fascist xenophobic vermin!" Seret (or its suit) makes a weird noise like some kind of terran bird, reaches out and grabs Zei's hand. "Zeiuri! I had hoped you had died, but it seems unfortunately that is not the case!"
Zei stops shaking its hand. "No, no, Seret, that's... you need to work on that. Like, call me some sort of alien-fucking psychopath or something. That's how it works. Do you want to look like a Novaflight?"
Seret folds his or her arms- is that a cluck? No I'm pretty sure that was a cluck. "Fireblood is not Royal Nine, areeni. Tolerance is not an alien concept to us," it mutters. "I fail to understand also why appearing tolerant in Wayfarer's Salvation is to be avoided."
"Well," mentions Zei, fiddling with her stupid long ears, "it tends to get taken advantage of-"
"Will you two save the banter for another time?" I ask in an entirely reasonable and ever so slightly irritated manner. "Sert or Serat or whatever your name is, you're the new pilot. Let's go find us an engineer, someone big and tough and able to take a few hits, and maybe someone good with explosives or something."
Well, this place is too big. I mean, some clarification on the job. I'm breaking into a place that holds the information. It's not kept wired for a damn good reason. I have a hunch I know what it is, but I'm not telling anyone. Not even you, weird figment of my imagination and/or arm AI gone wrong. It'd explain the price, too.
So I need to break into a place that's going to likely be protected or at least have a high concentration of areeni around it, and it's in space, so that means areeni spacers.
Then I need to take that information to a rendezvous point on the edge of Alliance space. With that all in mind, any ideas for adjustment to the crew I'm looking for here? Anything I should be taking into account in particular?
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