With a shouted curse Sayeeda spun from the concealment of the pillar. Pain flared across her arm as a piece of a ricochet drew a line of blood across her forearm. It hadn't been an aimed shoot, but in any fire fight there was enough death flying around that you could get greased just as easily by blind accident as by a snipers calculated strike. Taya's sonic assault had men tearing at their head sets. The armored men were better off, millitary grade gear having cut the feedbak to save their hearing.

Sayeeda dropped two of the struggling men with single shots to the chest, running on a sharp diagonal across the hangar. The barrel of her sub-machine gun shimmered with heat as another near miss plucked at her shirt scorching the fabric with the heat of its passage. She fired another three rounds at one of the black armored foes but he ducked behind a supply crate. One of the slugs hit the top of it with a clang casting firey sparks in all directions. Desperately Sayeeda threw herself behind the fusion bottle, her shoulders striking painfully against the transport pallet. She just managed to pull herself into cover before bullets began ringing off the reinforced steel. With a practiced motion she pulled the magazine from her weapon and checked the load. Only three of the twenty plastic rounds remained. Long odds with more than half a dozen enemies gunning for her, and no way to get out of the hangar without taking a round in the back. She wished she had some grenades, but then, if she were getting wishes perhaps a battalion of tanks would materialize.

Suddenly the air seemed to crackle with static electricity and several voices cried out. Sayeeda recognised it as the energizing sequence for heavy flextion plasma cannons. Sometimes when she had been pulling maintence she had felt such a sensation when they main gun coils were spooled up.

"Get clear he will torch the whole hangar if he fires!" someone shouted, clearly having had some similar experience. It certainly was true that firing a 30 centimeter plasma cannon in a hangar was a terrible idea. The weapons would have been too heavy to mount on even the largest ground vehicles, the flextion field alone would probably junk any unshielded electronics within fifty meters. Unconciusly she fingered her mastoid implant.

"No one would be that insane!" a shrill voice shouted in something close to panic. Sayeeda forced her self to laugh, the sound harsh from inhaling the vapors of expended cartridges and ozone.

"Clearly you don't know my pilot!" she yelled, slotting the magazine home and working the action. A sudden quiet decended over the hangar.

"Captain Cykali, we would like to offer our surrender on standard terms," came a calm voice, clear and commanding. It had an offworld accent, although Sayeeda couldn't place it. She blinked for a moment in confusion. Standard terms was an expression mercenary outfits used for a fairly universal set of rights and obligations. Adherence to them was enforced by the community as a whole, no one wanted loose cannons running around making life harder for the real professionals. Junebug wasn't sure that you could surrender on 'standard terms' to a private individual, but she wasn't going to stand on ceremony if it stopped the shooting.

"Are you insane! I forbid..." the shrill voice cut off with a gunshot and the sound of a body hitting the floor.

"What about it captain?" the offworlder inquired.

"I accept your surrender on standard terms. I'm coming out. Neil, if they shoot me, vaporize the lot of them."

@POOHEAD189

Neil had been planning on doing a flanking maneuver and opening the hatch behind the Highlander. Maybe use the grenade launcher to take a few potshots behind the enemy cover. But when he passed by the cockpit, he couldn't resist. If his Captain was dead, well the ship and all of those bastards out there would go down too. Wasn't there an ancient proverb about that? It didn't matter...

"Lonney, power up the auxiliary." He called, flipping the switches that opened the pipes of the power nodes. He grabbed the triggers and increased the energy of the plasma cannons, causing the crackling ozone to become palpable and extremely noticeable outside of the ship. The AI pipped up. "First mate sir, this could severely damage the ship and destroy the entire hanger. The regulations of intergalactic station protocol states-"

"Lonney it's a bluff."

"Your vocal patterns relay a 78% chance of you lying to me right now."

Neil waved a dismissive hand. "That's crazy Lonney. By the way who the hell switched your voice again?" Neil said, switching it back. Lonney always got so superior on the standard setting.

"Fixed init? I can't roight stop ya, sir. Jus' lettin ya know."

"I appreciate the advice-" Neil began, but he was cut off by Sayeeda's voice in his ear. "I accept your surrender on standard terms. I'm coming out. Neil, if they shoot me, vaporize the lot of them." This gave the pilot a very wide grin. "You got it. I'm a fucking powder keg baby...Captain. Sorry, I get excited." he said, and turned the front view display on. Immediately the 'battlefield' he and Sayeeda had been exchanging shots in expanded before his eyes.

Six men hesitantly stepped out into the open. Neil could tell by their body language they were tempted to take the shot at Junebug, but the ominous green glow of the Cannons aimed right at their position caused them to reconsider that course of action. At the fore was a sturdily built man with close cropped black hair and a dangerous, albeit calm look about him. He regarded Junebug with a certain level of both admiration and disdain, though he tried to keep his expression neutral.

"So here we are." the leader said. He had a very curious insignia on his uniform arm, but Neil could swear that was a basterdized version of his old sergeant insignia. The men had their weapons down and all of the ones Neil had a good look at showed their safeties were locked in.
@Penny

Unpleasant situations were a mainstay of a soldiers life, but few offered as much opportunity for an ironic death as taking a surrender. It was usually the last moment of hostility, but everyone was still twitchy with adrenaline. There was often someone who didn’t get the word or was too deep in the grip of fight or flight to hold his fire. Junebug stepped from her concealment, the barrel of her weapon shimmering as the silicon carbon dissipated waste heat. This time it was ok. Guns were all down. One of the black armored mercs was gurgling liquidly as he twisted on the ground. The body armor had shattered under the point blank crash of the submachine gun.

“We have a medicomp, lose the guns and get him up,” Junebug ordered. The soldiers looked to the black haired man who nodded briskly and hit the release catch of his combat webbing. The mass of gear slithered to the ground with a clatter. The other soldiers followed suit and two of the bulkier onces lifted the wounded trooper, Junebug saw it was a woman and dragged her towards the hatch.

“Neil open her up, two coming in for the medicomp.” The leader had his helmet off looking disgusted. Junebug could appreicate his position. It was likely the six men could have gotten out, assuming Neil didn’t vaporise the whole building by firing the plasma cannon, but even if he could there was no way they could have gotten the black plasteel intrusion unit out. Junebug didn’t doubt that the electronic safe cracker was worth hundreds of thousands of credits. Better to save it, even if that meant surrendering on terms. Standard Terms allowed mercs to retain their equipment in exchange for parole.

“I’m Master Seargent Kagan, Kolecks Commando,” he said extending a hand. Junebug took the proffered hand and shook it.

“I’m Captain Sayeeda Cykali, I… I’m not technically with an outfit,” she explained. It was an open question as to whether standard terms applied to her. To her surprise Kagan shook his head.

“You are listed as a reserve captain in the KDF,” the mercenary disagreed. The ramp crashed down rattling Sayeeda’s teeth.

“The KDF?”

“Kylurian Defence Force, I guess I’ll trust President Andor to shoot you if you decide to execute me and my men.”
@POOHEAD189

Neil blinked at his Captain's orders, raising an eyebrow. He'd taken prisoners in war before himself, but not when he was infiltrating the UNF outside of his mech. Within the mech was a different storyh, but it was easy to have a pilot within his power once he had destroyed the enemy Valk. But here...four enemy guns allowed into the ship...he wasn't entirely sure that was a good idea.

But if he questioned his Captain now, even via comm, it would only make their position weaker.

"Aye aye, Captain." He said, flipping open the switch to release the bay doors. As the door began to unfasten, Neil pushed himself off the chair and went to grab his 40mm XLR grenade launcher. If that didn't intimidate them he didn't know what would. That and of course, if he was crazy enough to blow up the hanger from the ship, he would be crazy enough to blow himself up along with Junebug if it meant taking the six men out with them.

He greeted them as they entered the ship, flak armor on his torso and sunglasses donned, with the launcher aimed straight at the men. "Med bay's this way." he said, nodding them to follow him.

Kagan eyed Neil for a moment, and then shook his head and waved his men forward. They held their wounded two at a time, moving in good order toward the direction Neil indicated. Inside, they would find four chambers that had healing stemliquid, along with various medical supplies for more specific wounds to be treated, such as shrapnel or bullet wounds.
@Penny

“Are you sure you can trust them?” Taya asked in a worried voice. The girl had come in after Junebug had called the all clear. She had one of the mercenaries pistol in one hand, it was a good instance to arm yourself but Sayeeda privately wished the girl hadn’t. Thy had spent some time training but the girl needed to work on her barrel control. She had a tendency to gesture with the weapon which would likely end in her accidentally shooting someone if it wasn’t curbed.

“Within certain parameters,” Junebug responded as she watched them strip the wounded woman’s armor from her body with a series of emergency release catches. Blood sicked the inside of the ceramic/polymer armor. The mercenary was a dark woman, and the blood stained her ebony skin with a grotesque sheen. One of her companions cut away her clothing with a power knife and then helped lift her into the medicomp.

Most starships had an automated medical unit which was capable of everything from treating radiation exposure to minor surgical tasks. The Highlander’s was an industrial gray unit the size of a large coffin. It could be configured to leave the head uncovered but they mercenaries were not taking any chances. It closed around the stricken soldier with a hiss of compressed gas. A series of clicks and whirs sounded as various IV lines and bio sensors were inserted. The large display on the side of the unit began to scroll data against a red background. After a moment the red shifted to yellow. That was a good sign. Sayeeda wasn’t a medic but she seen more than her share of wounded over the years. She judged that the woman would live.

“If they break faith after surrendering, their own organisation would probably shoot them rather than risk official censure,” Sayeeda explained. The mercenary community, the larger and better equipped ones, recognised a value to obeying the terms of a contract and in honoring surrenders. It was bad for business to shoot surrendering combatants just like it as bad for business for troops to turn on their captors once paroled. Everyone recognized the value in following the rules and if they didn’t, they were taught a very brief and very permanent lesson.

“We are responsible for feeding them and repatriating them to their own outfit. Their organisation will pay us a premium to cover it,” she explaine. Kagan was directing his men, sliding tubes of stim gel into the machine as the read reserve was expended. Taya straightend suddendly.

“Junebug, there are a bunch of those media drones on the way. I riged a sensor watch with Lonney.”

Sayeeda didn’t know what the reaction to a half dozen slaughtered men in the hangar would be but she was willing to bet it wasn’t going to be anything good.
@POOHEAD189

The Hanger doors opened up, and the drones glided in en mass. The Hanger filled with blood, bodies, and shell cartidges was now lit up with buzzing and flashes. Neil had just managed to turn the display on as they came in. The pilot sighed, shaking his head. "Vultures." He spat. Behind him, Taya had come up to check the display as well. She seemed concerned, though still somewhat ecstatic.

"I don't know...it's exciting getting noticed. Even if it's for someone else's gain...sometimes especially then."

Neil turned to her, eyebrow raised. "...thinking of the Prince, are we?"

"No!" she denied vehemently. Though her blush said otherwise. "Besides, he's Junebug's man."

"Apparently."

"So what are we going to do about the drones? They'll think we just up and got into a firefight!"

"Well didn't we?"

"You know what I mean!"

Neil shook his head and held his hands up. "Ok ok, I'll go handle it." He conceded, which brought a very confused look from Taya as Neil left the cockpit and headed to the bay door. He passed by Junebug and Kagan, giving them a happy, too happy, smile. The flashes that greeted him when he stepped out didn't bother his senses, because he had donned his signature sunglasses again.

"Hello ladies and gents." Neil said, giving a wave. The drone sensed the motion and the few that weren't already recording him floated over and began doing so. "Oh is this live?" He asked aloud. "Sweet. I uh, I mean there's nothing to see here. We were attacked. We handled it. It's all good. We're just being merciful right now and aiding the wounded. Let it be known that we're good people, who you don't fuck with."

Awkwardly, he nodded as he backed away. He held up both hands with his pointer and middle finger up, a veritable 'peace' sign. As the hanger door closed between he and the drones, he decided to give them something to think about and performed a handstand with one hand, sticking his tongue out, while giving the sign of the music he enjoyed with his free hand. Pointer and pinky finger out, along with his thumb.

Needless to say, the next few hours would be eventful for the planetary news
@Penny

Hangar Massacre - Are Prince Aiden’s ‘Guests’ a Threat?

The words scrolled across the twenty meter tall hologram portentously. Junebug steeped from the aircar the provost had provided and sighed. The Highlander’s crew had, eventually been officially cleared of any wrong doing, largely because Taya had provided the holo recordings of events to the authorities. It was possible to fake holograms but it was extremely difficult and easy to spot to anyone with even a cursory background. Even they Highlanders most dyed in the wool detractors couldn’t claim they hadn’t been attack. That didn’t stop them from painting their response as needlessly brutal though. Looped images ran of Junebug shooting the infiltrator by the hatch in the back. There was also footage of Lieutenant Kagan shooting one of his apparent allies before surrendering. There were as many opinions on what that meant as there were news channels.

The planet, or at least the city, didn’t have police in the regular sent. Instead it had a handful of appointed provosts who determined whether a crime had been committed. Once that was accomplished the provosts could appeal to the various noble houses for manpower under some arcane feudal law. Junebug supposed she had seen stranger systems. On Cephalon the natives didn’t even have a notion of justice. They merely burned twelve intercessors each lunar new year to purge the guilt of the whole community. Still it was disconcerting to see so sophisticated a society using such an outdated system of justice.

The provost's had wanted to question Kagan and his men but Junebug had refused. As surrendered combatants she was responsible from shielding them from local retaliation within reasonable limits. This had caused the provosts some consternation until she finally stumbled upon the formula that the captured mercenaries were her leigemen now. The precedents were consulted and this was apparently judged as proper. The rapid collapse of official resistance after that made Sayeeda suspect that Prince Aiden had strong armed the bureaucrats into dropping the matter. If so, she as thankful.

She shook her head wryly as the footage on the big screen played over Neil informing the whole planet that they were nobody to fuck with. It made her smile in spite of herself. The Provost’s had dropped her off in the palace compound by her request. The driver had cursed repeatedly at the swarm of camera drones that had followed them but they sheared of when they crossed the ornamental silver wall which encircled the private areas of the palace.

“Neil, the cops say we’re are all clear or now but it doesn't look like they are set up to do much investigating. Any progress on who these people were and why they were trying to break in to our ship?”
@POOHEAD189

Neil stepped out of the aircar, laughing and patting the back of one of the planetary defense officers. Whether you were for or against the Highlander crew when it came to their arrival or status within the government, they were highly controversial figures. He'd taken no time in assuming that role with the authorities, bragging about past exploits and being more than amiable with their probing questions and curiosity.

As they exited their transportation, an amalgamation of gathered citizens; fans, horded to catcall and shout at the crew. The officers held them back. Neil saw there were plenty of curious guys, but there was a majority of women here.

"Taya! Where do you get your outfits!?"
"Neil! Are you and Junebug dating!? What about the Prince!?"
"Junebug, I love you!"
"Neil, I'll suck your-"

"Get them inside!" The lieutenant yelled, practically shoving the crew indoors through one of the smaller, more common entrances to the Palace. They were received readily by Palace guards, giving them directions for their quarters through the city sized structure. Once they made it past prying eyes and ears, they began to speak.

"The PDO told me that they have a few suspects, though none they would go against unless they had unrivaled evidence." Neil said, running a hand through his dark hair and sighing. "But they decided to give me some information off the record after we played some cards...they think it's either a Senator Giaus, or one of Aiden's siblings. As for the why...weaken the prince's position probably."

"Those bastards." Taya breathed.

Neil looked at her, surprised. Taya suddenly blushed. "Sorry, I just can't see why they don't just accept the ascension. He's such a fine man. Wouldn't they also have an easier time working with him rather than against, anyway?"
@Penny

Junebug sniffed with derision as the trio headed down a long marble hallway. Mythotlogical scenes adorned the walls in bas relief. A particularly intricate carving showed a half man half spider threatening a naked woman. A nearby armored figure raised a shield in symbolic protection.

“Your father is a powerful man Taya,’ Junebug observed as they turned a corner into a more familiar passageway. She supposed she could call up a map on her PDU if she really needed one, but they weren’t in any particular hurry.

“Do you think he would happily fall into line if he had a chance to be on top?” The question was somewhat rhetorical as Lord Cho-Lan had been more than happy to plunge his planet into fire and blood in order to claw his way up the social ladder.

“Well, maybe if he had someone like Aiden to follow,” Taya responded sounding more than a little unsure of herself.

“Sure and maybe that RIP will be calm,” Junebug retorted. It was the nature of humans to fight for a bigger share, even if their share as already vast. Mercenary soldiers got plenty of opportunity to see that. Sure they always dressed it up as some sort of injustice but at the end of the day it was always ‘that bastard has more than I want him to, go kill him’. They reached their room and opened the door with a thumbprint to the identification pad. The room had been restored to pristine condition, empty bottles and food wrappers whisked away by the staff while they had been gone. Junebug would have liked to have found something to eat out in the city but that didn’t seem like a good idea with the crowds and media swarms. She unhooked her weapons belt and tossed it the floor beside one of the embossed leather chairs. The familiar feeling of well being was stealing over her. There was nothing in the galaxy to match the feeling of surviving a firefight. For a moment she tried to imagine a different Sayeeda Cykali, one who had gone on to some pedestrian civilian occupation rather than shipping to the military academy. It was like trying to imagine a fish that as also an elephant.

Taya made a bee line for her corner of the room where an unlikely series of computer terminals hummed. She immediately began paging through the various news channels, giggling at the more salacious or ridiculous stories. Junebug was happy to discover that the bar had been restocked. Reaching into the artfully arranged ice chest she pulled out an amber bottle twisted in a series of interconnected loops which vaguely suggested a tree. She pulled the stopper free with a sharp twist of her left hand and took a drink from the neck. The dark brown liquor had a cinnamon burn to it that she wasn’t expecting but it beat the industrial alcohol which techs used to bleed from hydraulic lines and cut with water by several orders of magnitude.

“This place is getting weirder and weirder,” Junebug observed. She wanted to order food from the palace kitchens but the lack of anything as simple as a menu momentarily defeated her. A momentary childish impulse rose up and she considered calling the kitchen and ordering some ridiculously elaborate dish. Maybe Neil as rubbing off on her. Unconsciously her eyes strayed to Neil. The pilot was looking at the hot tub. He saw her looking. For a moment the room fell silent. With an explosion of motion they both dashed for the marble tub inset in the floor. Neil was closer but his path was obstructed by a large leather couch. He cleared it like a hurdler, leaping the back of it, landing on the cushioned seat and bounding towards the tub. Junebug threw herself forward in a dive the tangled the pilots legs and he face planted into the hot water sending a shower of liquid into the air. Sayeeda’s roll carried her over the lip and she plunged into the hot tub a moment after Neil, slouching a further wave of water onto the expensively paneled floor.

A moment later they both broke the surface, soaked, laughing and fully clothed. Sayeeda, ever the pragmatist, had demonstrated the presence of mind to cover the opening of her bottle with a tumb before taking the plunge. The hot water felt good, even though she probably should have taken the time to strip before diving in. She propped herself up on her elbows on the edge of the tub and took another drink.

“I could probably sell the secrutiy footage of that for a bundle,” Taya observed dryly as Junebug thrust a lock of wet hair out of her eyes.

“Probably,” Junebug agreed, the comment dragging her back into the situation at hand.

“The award ceremony is tomorrow night, I think we shoud probably lift ship right after. Things are starting to get murky here.”

“We uh don’t have a cargo,” Neil interjected, leaning back on his side of the hot tub in a relaxed pose. Junebug made a gesture of negation with the amber bottle.

“We can find something tomorrow, even if we can’t there is a repatriation bond we can claim if we ferry Kagan and his men back to their own people.” It was standard for a merc company to pay a premium for the return of its people and its equipment. It was a good economic incentive for troops that might be trapped systems away from their homebase. Kagan had said that he and his men were part of a trading cadre on Rhizon. Junebug had never heard of the world but it was unlikely to be too far from here if they were making such small deployments. Taya began to laugh and Junebug looked at her sharply. With a few quick keystrokes she lit the main viewscreen.

“God damn,” Junebug breathed. On the screen were two figures, naked and writhing together. There faces were undeniably those of Neil and Sayeeda. It was some sort of synthesis Sayeeda realised after a moment. The woman's body was an approximation of hers but they were not an exact match. Some effort had been made to conterfeight both her and Neil's tattoos but there were minor mistakes. Some of her more intimate tattoos and scars were missing all together. Neil’s doppelganger too lacked some of the scars she had seen.

“I wish my ass looked like that,” she said judiciously. It was bad luck that at exactly that moment the door slid open to admit Prince Aiden to the chamber.
@POOHEAD189

Neil downed a few generous gulps from a bottle of Dar'monad whiskey after the two of them had playfully tussled to get into the hot tub. His knee hurt and his sinuses had been cleared from the water pressure having been shoved into them, but it was all in good fun. The fact Junebug seemed to have taken some relaxation tips from him gave him a satisfied grin, and he sank into the hot water until it reached his neck, having set the whiskey down next to his side of the tub. The pilot even grabbed his glasses from his now soaked pants, and placed them, equally soaked, over his eyes. "We could probably fame whore enough to get some good deals on some transport items before we leave." He suggested.

As they relaxed, Taya placed the sloppily erotic video on the vidcaster screen. Suddenly, Neil saw a full sized version of him and Sayeeda having sex. He lowered his glasses, letting out a blunt "well then..." amid the surprised silence. Briefly he wondered if this is what happened back on the node when they were drunk, but no...he would have remembered. What's more, he was far better in bed than that. The technique was all wrong. At Junebug's comment, he thought for a moment. "Nah, your ass is one of your better qualities. It's just right. One of your best qualities probably."

Unfortunately, the Prince now stood behind Neil about a dozen paces away. His expensive but stately shoes quiet along the pristine floorboards. His jaw was hanging open like the Highlander's bay door. Neil saw Junebug and Taya's looks, and he turned to notice the Prince. Neil blinked, chortling. "You really need to work on your timing." he marveled.

"What is the meaning of this?" The Prince asked, raised eyebrow and clearly aghast at always being taken aback by something from the crew.

"It isn't what it looks like!" Taya said, which prompted Aiden and Neil to incredulously exclaim simultaneously "What do you care?" before pausing and looking at one another. The Prince wasn't amused, but Neil clearly thought the entire situation was pretty funny. "Your highness, don't worry. That's a shopped porno. Besides, both of us are better in bed than that. At least I am...I would assume Junebug is. If she could keep up."

His Captain gave Neil a smirk, and splashed some hot water on him. Neil flinched and wiped his face. "Hey! I was just getting the glasses dry."

They shared a laugh, though Junebug catching Aiden's expression caught her attention. She looked to have almost forgotten he was there. "What brings the visit, your highness?" She said, using her toned arms to pull herself out of the water to plant her rump on the edge of the hot tub for a moment, just to appear welcoming and polite.

"I heard you were in a firefight. I came to see if you were alright..." The Prince said, sighing. He walked past Neil, lightly sidestepping the veritable ponds of puddles at the edge of the hot tub. "Are you? Alright?" He asked. "If you were, I was thinking of asking if you'd be my date for the coronation tomorrow. For the dinner, of course."
@Penny

Sayeeda cleared her throat the only obvious sign of embarrassment at the situation. The only way to be sure you wouldn’t be embarrassed was to be dead. She shifted her rump into a slightly more proper position, cursing the way the most fabric clung to her body. The porno finally blanked to a peaceful holographic tableau. For someone who was normally a technical wizard it took a suspiciously long time for Taya to make the transition.

“Ok?” she asked, momentarily confused. Her eyes followed the Prince’s to the staple sutures that the provost's had applied to her forearm. The graze was nothing serious, a piece of a bullet had shattered against steel or concrete and drawn blood. She probably wouldn’t have bothered with it even if they didn’t have a badly wounded merc to stick in the medi-comp. A few treatments of stem-gel would close it up without even a scar.

“Oh this, nothing to worry about,” she reassured Aiden. What would Aiden have thought about the time she got hit on Beta Aquilla? Stomach muscles contracted involuntarily in recollection of being slammed back into the fighting compartment of her skimmer. The Prince looked unconvinced but chose not to pursue the matter further.

“I’d be honored to attend the coronation with you… if that is politically advisable?” she cocked an interrogatory eyebrow. Aiden’s gaze lost some of its suspicion and he smiled with genuine amusement.

“Oh perfectly acceptable Say… Junebug,” he replied, stumbing over the nickname despite her permission to use it.

“I’m not the King yet, besides there are few highborn ladies who would care to be compared to you if I opted not to attend with the beautiful and deadly Captain Cyckali.” As far as flattery went it worked better than most though the implied political complexity made her slightly wary.

“We had a date tonight didn’t we?” Sayeeda asked. Pausing to run her fingers through her short hair before wrapping a white linen towel around her midsection in belated modesty.

“We do, though I thought perhaps since the attack on your ship..”

“It’s fine,” she interrupted curtly. Aiden smiled wickedly.

“The we best get you to the Royal Clothiers, the hairdressers at the least will be tearing their hair out with frustration. They normally demand several hours for the Pinnacle Opera.” Aiden’s eyes shifted to Neil and became a touch less mirthful.

“And what will you gallant companies be doing while we are enjoying the splendour of the Opera? I suppose I could arrange tickets for the two of you?”
@POOHEAD189

Neil rolled his eyes at the smile Aiden had. He tried to like the guy, and while he felt he was being unfairly messed with by his siblings for his ascension, there was something that tugged him the wrong way. When Aiden looked his way, Neil nodded, his following comment made with an effete inflection. "That would be marvelous! Don't you agree Taya?"

The young girl practically squee'd. Neil chuckled as she went on a small tirade on how she would absolutely love to come. "Very well then." Aiden replied, and took Junebug's hand in his own to kiss. His voice was honeyed. "If you would dry yourself off, I'll take you to the royal hairdressers." He turned to Neil. "We'll 'rendezvous' near the exit of the left wing?" The Prince asked. Neil flashed a smile. "Whatever you say, bud."

Once Junebug and Aiden had exited, Neil flourished his hand out of the hot tub. "And I haven't a thing to wear!" He exclaimed. Taya did not catch the sarcasm. "I'm sure you've received formal clothes in your room. Go and look after you dry off." She said, before she did what Neil could only describe as 'toodled' out of the room. The Pilot sighed, giving an unamused look forward as if he was peering into a camera.

Once Neil and Taya had finished getting dressed, they found that the butlers had already wiped the floors clean. Though their personal effects hadn't been moved. Taya wore a very smart, two piece dress that, while modest, accentuated how pretty and young she was. Neil wore an open buttoned suit, with his white sleeves rolled up in a workman's fashion. Despite the twist in the style, Taya blinked. "You look quite good in a suit." She said. "I never would have thought."

"Oh, thank you." He replied, fixing his collar. "I hate wearing them usually, unless I'm going on a date. Too bad my woman's taken."

"Your what!?" She said, aghast and delighted. Neil looked at her as if she was insane, then caught on. It was so much like a girl to be happy over drama. Neil just knew her thoughts immediately. "I meant Quetzalli."

"Riiiiiiiight." She said, wholly unconvinced. Her attitude was paused when she saw Neil loading a smaller 10mm caliber gun that he promptly slid into the back of his pants, under his jacket. "...W-Why do you have that?"

He glanced her way. "It's an Opera, not a musical. Things could get hairy."
@Penny

Gleaming golden posts supported a heavy red velet rope that sectioned the royal viewing area from the rest of the enclosed amphipheter. Sayeeda judged the distance with her eye. Up onto the seat infront of her and two bounds to reach the nearest post. A half second to unhook the rope and she could club the nearest royal guardsmen before he could possibly get his gold chased holster unsnapped. No time to retrive the weapon but she could get into the access stairway the man was guarding. Maybe she could aim her blow to drive him through ahead of her that would give her a moment to grab his pistol. The heavy twelve round slug thrower ought to be enough…

A comment from Aiden drew her out of her fifth exit strategy. She made a polite vaguely affirmative response to some social program or another he was planning for one of the outlying worlds. The opera was interminable. It was delivered in a barely intelligible archaic dialect and the best she could tell it told the story of the rise of the monarchy after the collapse of some sort of democratic forerunner. The various democratic figures represented each of the seven deadly sins, or so she gathered from the program.

Sayeeda had been raised in the middle class of a wealthy world and had at least an intellectual appreciation of the arts inculcated into her as a child. Years spent in battle, bars and brothel had atrophied he ability. She was dressed in a diaphanous gown composed of layers of chiffon fabric over a bodystocking which was patterned with ivy. The result made her look as though she was some sort of nymph shrouded in mist. Tasteful gold jewelry claspsed her neck and wrists and small intricately carved emeralds glinted in the shifting light. The clothiers had fretted over her wounded arm in despairing tones before wrapping her wrists and forearms with fine traceries of ivy patterned gold. A piece of similar design hung from her bare shoulders, covering her upper chest with more golden ivy leaves and supporting three large rubies which formed a decolletage.

Her hair had been its own problem. It was far too short to indulge in the elaborate curled styles that were currently popular at the court. Instead it had been gathered into a simple bun atop her head and pinned into place with gold and emerald brooches. Junebug was fairly certain that the whole ensemble cost more than all the clothing she had ever owned put together.

“You look lovely tonight my dear,” Aiden said, the sincerity of the statement evident in his voice. The prince as well turned out as well. A tunic of gleaming white silk with subtle silver piping was offset by a scarlet sash and a golden lanyard. His pants were black with slightly reflective onyx patterns inlaid into the fabric. Aiden had remarked that it was a dress uniform from some regiment or another of which he was the honorary colonel when she had asked about the vaguely military cut of the garment. It was a wonder that the thing wasn’t dripping with inventive medals and honors, although perhaps Aiden had been astute enough to realise her likely reaction to such boasting.

Junebug squeezed Aiden’s hand, he was pleasant enough company but she found it difficult to talk to people in civilian settings. Most her stories and anecdotes were wildly inappropriate for polite social gathering. The thought brought a smile to her lips which seemed to please Aiden.

The opera house itself was a vast enclosed ampipeter, the royal box in which she and Aiden as well as a handful of lesser members of the royal family sat was a balcony centrally located and halfway up the semicircular enclosure. Guards secured access stairwells at either side. The acoustics were marvelous and even at the distance enforced by the size of the room she could catch every nonsensical syllable the performers uttered. It also made use of state of the art holographic technology to render amazingly realistic background to the sweep and thrust of the action. Many of the audience members used glasses to view the action but Sayeeda didn’t have the interest to make a closer inspection necessary and viewing something through optics too easily transported her into a headspace she didn’t need on what was ostensibly a date. She considered the distance between her and the security guard again, not that she needed much encouragement.

Neil and Taya had been seated as close as possible to the Royal box without actually being inside of it. Both of them had cleaned up nicely although Neil’s suit was worn in deliberately informal fashion. She wondered just how the pilot had avoided climbing the walls in boredom. Maybe he was an opera fan. Taya certainly seemed to be chatting animatedly enough for the pair of them. This was an odd place for the girl, she was an aristocrat on her own world but Fornax was rustic compared to the sophisticated splendor of Dar'monad.

“I know is a little on the boring side,” Aiden whispered, “but these are the sort of things expected of a Prince.

“And a king as of tomorrow,” Junebug pointed out with another smile. Aiden groaned as though physically pained.

“Stars don’t remind me,” Aiden rejoined, though he was smiling too.

“Whatever you say… your majesty,” Sayeeda said with a wink. Aiden laughed in full throated good humor.

“Do you know what I love about you Junebug?” Aiden began. Two black coated men walked onto the stage from left and right. There was the slightest of hesitations in the performance although they didn’t so much as miss a note of the gibberish they were singing. Junebug narrowed her eyes at the way the cloaks hung around the newcomers.

“It is that you are so..” Junebug uncoiled like a spring as one of the black cloaked men threw back his garment to reveal a boxy looking assault rifle. With a twisting leap she caught Aiden across the chest and knocked the Prince to the ground a heartbeat before the chatter of automatic gun fire ripped the room. White hot plasma flashed over her head blasting the cushioned seat back into a cyclone of burning splinters. The nearest security guard unlimbered his weapon just in time to be hit by a plasma bolt between thigh and chest. The pressure wave of vaporizing tissues slammed the guard into the wall. He bounced off and fell over the guardrail plunging into the pit below. Terrified screams echoed around the auditorium.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm, we have come for the tyrant Aiden on the charge of murder of his own blood!” The words boomed over the public address system, though the screaming and the gunfire continued. Aiden pulled a communicator of some sort from his pocket and tumbed it on. Even over the cacophony of the opera house the squeal of radio frequency jamming was evident. Leopard crawling to the edge of the box Sayeeda looked up the steps towards the emergency exit. She ducked back just in time to avoid the stream of plasma bolts that a gunman crouched in the exit sent flying towards her. A fat man cowering a floor below her took one of the rounds to the top of the head, his toupe spinning away in a smokey arc.

“I really hope it is how I am so not going to die in the next few minutes,” she shouted to Aiden over the tumult.

@POOHEAD189

The crowd began to devolve into chaos, though by the seating pattern, physical logistics simply had to keep them organized in some fashion. They wouldn't be able to get out of their seats or to the doors unless they went in the lanes nearly single file. That is, for most people. Taya gasped at the situation, sure that Aiden or Junebug was going to be hit. "What should I do!?" She screamed over the noise as Neil pulled out his gun. The pilot was certain she wondered if she could help in any tech savvy way, but not this time.

"Stay down! Under your seat!" He told her, folding his chair up and leaping to its top, using his momentum to skipjump across the tops of the chairs into the royal 'killbox.' Usually, Neil wouldn't have any more luck than Junebug in a firefight, save perhaps dumb luck. But this time, he had the element of surprise on the would-be assassins. His feet landed at the very edge of the thin wall that separated the royal elevated position from the rest of the seats, narrowly avoiding (more out of happenstance than skill) a plasma bolt, to fire his own gun.

Neil's 10mm gun wasn't as powerful as his usual revolver, but he always enjoyed some punch to his weapons. The bullet struck one of the assailants in the jaw, shattering into the back of his neck and ending his life. But the pilot hadn't stopped moving, rolling over thin air to hit the ground in mid roll. As graceful as it was, he had too much momentum and slammed audibly into the back of a chair upside down next to Junebug and the prince.

Neil blinked and groaned, collecting his senses. "Got one." he muttered. Sayeeda grabbed his leg and yanked it, sending him rolling once over to get upright, though this time his head bumped the wall. If it wasn't for the fact he'd had some plates placed into his head after a dodgy mission on Corvus, it might have actually hurt him a bit. "Jesus!" He seethed, reciting a name from one of the traditional deities from old Terra. He blinked the stars away. "You didn't have t- whoa you look good tonight."
@Penny

"Well thank you for noticing," Junebug replied with a tight grin. The seat backs above them puffed and sprayed foam and splintters into the air. The boom of gunfire and the screams of crowd were magnified many times over by the excellent acoustics and the thrum of sound was unpleasant at the level of bone marrow. Sayeeda wiggled off the protesting Aiden who had given up on the jammed communicator. The prince wasn't paniced but the situation was clearly well beyond his frames of reference.

"We should get of here," Aiden declared glancing towards the paniced crowd. A fresh burst of gunfire ripped overhead.

"I see four, maybe five problems with that," Junebug remarked dryly. She lifted her head to peer over the seat and ducked again as a pair of plasma bolts flew over her head with a sizzling shimmer of heat.

"And if I had to guess I'd say problem six and seven are probably covering the upper and lower exits with automatics, at least they would be if I were in charge." In Sayeeda's experience you rarely went wrong assuming your enemies were as competent as you were.

"Well what are we going to do?" Aiden demanded glancing toward one of the sprawled body guards who lay lifelessly atop the landing. Junebug hiked her skirt up revealing the body stocking beneath her gown. Aiden looked at her in shocked amazement. A thin garter belt encircled her upper thigh.

"What are you..."

Sayeeda pulled a small four barreled pistol that she wore tucked into the belt and snapped the action back with a metallic click. The pistol was a tiny plamsa weapon which traded everything for reduced size. The barrels were single use tubes which would be deformed by the shots they fired.

"Am I the only one without a gun?" Aiden asked a little plaintively. Sayeeda snickered despite the gravity of the situation.

"Taya's still young its hard to know how far along she is," Neil commented with a chuckle.

"What are we going to do?" Aiden demanded, unmoved by the banter.

"We are going to wait," Sayeeda said before touching her mastoid inplant. The unit was shut off due to the jamming. SHe would have to trust Taya to move when the option presented itself.

"Are you crazy? Wait for wha..." the prince began. The fire alarms began to wail as the burning insulation blocked the infrared sensors. A moment latter the sprinkler system fluttered to life dousing the room in a shower of icy water that cut visibility to almost nothing. The lights died and the emergency lights flicked on in the space of a heartbeat. Sayeeda stood up and fired the first of her four barrels into the assassin at the top right corner of the stairs. The rain shower attenuated the plasma bolt into a ball of super heated steam which struck the unfortunate killer in the neck. Grabbing Aiden by the hand she pulled him to his feet and took three quick strides towards the right exit. With deliberate aim she put the remaining three rounds into the point between to sprinkler heads. Plaster flamed and then the water delivery pipe beneath burst like a bomb transforming the stairs into a waterfall. Neil, Sayeeda, Aiden and a moment later Taya dived through the concealing cascade of water and into the stair well, soaked but alive.

"I thought you said they would have someone covering the exit?" Aiden asked, the prince took an odd looking device from his belt and held it before him.

"Yeah well, one problem at a time," Sayeeda replied casting aside her useless derringer

@POOHEAD189.

The stairway was well furnished, with lush carpeted floors fit for a royal opera. The fabric darkened due to all of the wet, everyone now soaked to the bone. Neil let out a 'woo' as he moved his mop of hair out of his eyes. "Here I was thinking the Opera would be boring. I was always more into 'La bohème' anyway." He said, getting to his feet. As the Prince placed a tossed chair at the door to keep the barrier in place, Taya coughed.

She shivered from the cold, rubbing her arms in frustration. "Why can't we ever get a break?" She asked.

The door behind them burst open as if kicked. Neil was knocked to the side, and out stepped a man with a hydrosonic weapon. An experimental firearm, water cooled and using vibrations to create deadly airwaves. If he'd fired the weapon at any of them, it would have carved a clean hole through any unarmored individual.

However, the assassin that Sayeeda had predicted had failed to realize the weight he'd hit with the door. Neil was on him in a flash, grabbing at his gun and kneeing him in the stomach, causing the weapon to drop to the floor. The Pilot headbutted him, but was similarly shoved back and punched. Neil knocked aside the blow with his forearm, redirecting the kinetic energy of the attack and stepped forward, using his weight to add force to his next punch that struck the man's throat.

The assassin coughed up blood, and fell to his knees, gasping for air that wouldn't show. Neil's method wasn't as fine tuned as Sayeeda's, but it was a step above what Aiden, Taya, and possibly the Captain expected. The Prince blinked, having stopped from activating the device in his hands to stare at Neil. Taya squinted. "I wasn't expecting that." she said. Neil let out a breath and looked the group, finding his signature grin.

He knelt down and picked up the weapon the guy had been aiming at the Captain and Prince. "Yeah well...I can't always be here to save your-"

The door opened again forcefully. Neil was hit a second time, nearly being knocked down the next flight of stairs as a frightened couple surged out of it, fearfully looking back and forth. So scared were they, they didn't notice the heir to the throne was in front of them, and they hurried past Neil who was collecting his senses.
@Penny

The four companions were borne out of the theatre ahead of a tide of screaming civilians. The gunmen must have given up their attempts to block the exits when it became clear that Aiden had slipped the net. Lights flashed in the sky and sirens wailed as airborne ambulance units spiraled in towards the opera house, lights and sirens blaring. Sayeeda led them through an alley and across several broad streets. Things seemed surprisingly peaceful so close to the scene of a life and death shootout.

Suddenly all of the holo screens went black. A moment later they lit again all showing the image of a distinguished looking man in his later years. The man was dressed in a sober business suit and some sort of ceremonial sash of office. Behind him was Aiden’s brother *BLANK*, the latter dressed in a somber uniform of military cut. The words ‘emergency broadcast’ blinked below them in violet lettering.

“What is senator Gaius doing using the emergency address system?” Aiden asked, clearly puzzled “and why is Alexander with him?”

“Citizens,” the distinguished man began, his voice somber and controlled. Traffic on the street began to slow as eyes turned towards the unusually uniform broadcast.

“It is with a heavy heart I come before you. Our King *BLANK* has been murdered.” A shocked gasp went through the citizens, audible even over the wails of the wounded and the clangor of sirens.

“This heinous act appears at this stage to have been hatched at the highest orders of government. An hour ago the constabulary attempted to detain Prince Aiden for questioning. He, and his foreign associates killed several officers and fled. Any citizens with information regarding the whereabout of these individuals should contact the constabulary at once. Prince Blank and several other nobles have offered troops from their household guards as levies during this crisis.”

The screens blanked for another moment and then dissolved into a dozen different variations of ‘Breaking News!’

“Well shit.”
@POOHEAD189

"Father." Aiden breathed in disbelief, seemingly unable to process the information. He stared into nothing and shook his head, though he didn't seem too broken as of yet. It must have been the adrenaline and the constant surprises.

"No!...I'm sorry, my Prince." Taya said, placing a hand on his shoulder. He nodded, and drew himself up, squaring his jaw. "I should have known it was them. Gaius I can understand would have no qualms, but Alexander killing our father...I did not think he would go that far. But no one will believe I did it. I'm to be King tomorrow, why would I jeopardize my position?"

"I'm sure some people would believe you, but if they have the ear of the people with that vidcaster, eventually they'll believe anything." Neil said, having seen first hand what government propaganda could do on his world. "We're not going to have any help with the palace guard as long as they're up there spewing bullshit. But if we could broadcast ourselves..." He let the words sink in. The Prince began to ponder at that.

"Taya, could you hack into the broadcasting system?" Neil asked. The young woman nodded after a moment, biting her lip as she considered. "If I had some rudimentary equipment, yes. I just need a good frequency and a high place to work. The higher the elevation, the better."

"We can't go back to my palace or your guest rooms." Aiden said.

"Why don't we go into Alexander's quarters, up to the highest level? I don't think anyone would be expecting that." Neil said, peeking around the hall corner to check if anyone was approaching. Behind him, he heard Junebug reply. "So we're to walk into a heavily fortified, enemy quarter of the Palace to hack into the system in the hopes people will listen?"

"Yep."

"Well, I hope you don't mind the dress being tarnished." She said, tearing off the lower section to give her legs more room to move. "We need some more weapons."

"The guards have checkpoints every few miles." Aiden said. "I know the codes to get into one of them. They'll have small arms. But we need to try not to kill any of my Palace guards if we can help it. They're just doing their jobs."
@Penny

Junebug found a small alleyway and led the little group of fugitives into its shelter. There as no sign that anyone was on to them yet but on a world as infested with cam drones as this one it was only a matter of time.

“...aptain?” a dim voice chimed in her ear.

“Lonney? Is that you?”

“Aye… c… chrrcch… bollocking… zwweep… amm… bitches,” came the reply. Taya began to fiddle with her own implant though she didn’t appear to be having too much luck. Sayeeda cursed. Someone was still jamming the ship even though they had escaped the smaller scale jammer that had been used at the opera.

“Taya anyway you can boost the signal to Lonney?” she asked glancing out of the mouth of the alley. The holo boards continued to blare with talking heads excitedly debating the shocking announcement of a few minutes before. Taya considered it.

“If you can get me to a credit terminal and you don't mind text only,’ she replied.

“I wouldn’t mind smoke signals only at the moment,” Junebug said with a grim smile. Aiden chuckled despite still looking drawn and pained. They walked down the street to a nearby credit terminal. Junebug stood close to Taya, shieding what she was doing from view with her own body. The girl made some arcane adjustments to some settings Sayeeda hadn’t known existed. A moment later a message appared on the screen.

Multiple hostiles in the hangar. No effort to get aboard after what I did to the first group. Ha ha.

It as Neil’s turn to chuckle. Junebug had Taya send a reply instructing Lonney to keep the ship bottled up no matter what to which she received the worryingly cheery reply of ‘Aye Aye Captn’ with a smiley face emoji winking.

“Well I guess we haven’t much choice but to Alexander’s chambers, we cant get to the ship,” Junebug confided to Neil and Aiden.

“I need a weapon though, any way we can pick some up?” she askd Aiden. It as his city afterall though she doubted the prince himself ran much to gun dealing.

“I know just the place.”

“By the Goddess…” Sayeeda breathed when, fifteen minutes later, Aiden led them into a nondescript but neatly kept apartment complex and opened a door to one of the penthouses. Inside was a bed, a refresher and a refrigerator. Every other square inch of space was covered in weapons ranging from the state of the art to the ridiculously antiquated. A powder loading musket hung next to a laser carbine of alien manufacture, below them stretched a row of handguns of bogglingly diverse origin.

“What is this place?” she asked in shocked awe as she ran her fingers along the packing case of what was almost certainly a pintle mounted triple barreled plasma gun. Aiden chuckled sadly.

“It is… or was maybe… Ranald’s apartment. I’ve been on him for years to donate these to a museum, some of them are quite valuable.”

“I’ll bet…” Sayeeda breathed as see picked up an electrochemical rifle fed by a box magazin of caseless ammunition and weighed the balance in her hand. The effect with her evening ware was enough to make Taya giggle.
@POOHEAD189

As the lights turned on, Neil's jaw dropped as soon as he saw the stacks upon stacks of weapons. This couldn't all be for the museum. But he wasn't about to question it, simply drinking in the different weapon types and calibers and wondering which he'd use for a mission like this. "Now Neil..." he said to himself. "Grab what you need, not what you want." He repeated that to himself as he walked forward, grabbing assault rifles and sniper rifles, along with lasguns and plasma rifles. Some of these he had no idea how to operate, but when in Romeula...

"You know what we need..." Neil said, holding up a fletchripper, one of the more notorious shotguns on this side of the Galaxy. "Some rope."

"Why would you need rope?" Taya asked, simply lost in the maze of weaponry and content with sitting down next to the Prince, who'd simply grabbed a handgun and called it a day.

"Haven't you seen any of the vidcasted movies? You always get rope."

"Name one thing you'd need a rope for."

"You never know what you need it for, you just always need it." He said, and grabbed a coiled bundle of 50 feet worth of rope the Prince pointed it.

"It does have a lot of practical applications." Junebug said, the commando checking the ammo stock. Taya rolled her eyes, defeated. "Fine, get your stupid fucking rope."

Once Neil's weaponry boner was gone, he grabbed a combat shotgun and a plasma carbine. Luckily they had straps to them so he could carry both with minimal effort. He tossed Junebug her weapon of choice, and he tossed the prince with probably the most valuable item in the room, a personal shield. "You place it on your chest, and you get a small forcefield around your body. Can't handle sustained fire, but it should get you in without getting killed."

"Want anything Taya?" Neil asked her.

"No, but give me something anyway."
@Penny