[center][@LustForDecay][@Red Fox][@datadogie]

[color=skyblue]"Huh?" Who's there?"[/color] A strangely accented voice responded to Frost's voice- and it wasn't Vorra's. She instantly reached for her gun. She looked down off the balcony and saw something moving among the boxes and crates, a large, arthropod like creature. A Vrexul, eavesdropping on her, they weren't very common to see in federal space these days, and it only added to the amount of surprise to see someone here. [color=skyblue]"The hell?!"[/color] She was half tempted to raise her gun and fire on sight, but that wouldn't be a good idea, Frost had seen Vrexul once or twice in her earlier years- they were made for fighting. How much had this one heard already? They said something about work, did Vorra say something, or did he just hear that much? [color=skyblue]"Who told you that? Where did you come from?"[/color] There was a sharp tone in her voice as she barked questions at the intruder, she hadn't heard him come in. Ultimately this Vrexul probably wasn't that big of a threat, if he had been eavesdropping as long as she thought he was, he knew she was a criminal. 

[i][b]" " Frost, you have to see this. I'm saving the scan data onto my ships computer, it's too dangerous to be sent out freely. But the rumors seem to be true. Formalis is a gold mine. My scans picked up dozens of possible wrecks, I'm actually still counting them. But they are there, waiting for us. I'll go trough the scans in depth while travelling to you, filtering out the duds. You better get a trustworthy crew for this one. There could be enough stuff here to warrant a backstabbing or two. I'll leave Formalis within the hour, it will take me around a week to get to you. You prepare your part of the plan, I'll see what we have there. " [/b][/i]

Instantly brushing off the unknown party, Frost would've smiled if she had a mouth. [color=skyblue]"Good, good. Get back here as soon as you can, that place'll probably be crawling with federal toadies before long, we gotta get there and get out as soon as we can- load the scrap onto your ship, and and sell it for creds. While you're on the way back, I'll put together a crew for us, I know just the person for the job, Frost out."[/color] The line clicked dead as Frost reach for her datapad, a slightly outdated model that was a little smaller than the more recent ones. Her fingers glided along the screen for a few minutes until she reached a particular contact with a group that owed her a solid- the White Ashes. They were a rebellious black-ops dystopian killing bunch of assassins who wanted political power, in Frost's eyes anyway, but they got results. A while back, she ran with a few of them around the back ends of Kastrack to set up something shady- the kind of shady Frost deals in. That was probably years ago, she didn't remember, but they made her a promise personally that they'd throw her a bone with one of their better agents when the need were to arise. Luckily, having friends in high places on rare occasion came in handy. Frost scrolled to a contact listed under the name [b][color=gold]APOLONIR.[/color][/b] She ringed them up, beep...beep...beep.

Total silence for what felt like five entire minutes, Frost kept an eye on the guy downstairs in waiting...[color=skyblue]"I'll worry about you in a minute."[/color]

[color=gold]"Underneath the sun."[/color]
[color=skyblue]"Far above the clouds we soar."[/color]
[color=gold]"Into blinding winds we ride."[/color]
[color=skyblue]"Down into the darkest night."[/color]

[color=gold]"...Code acknowledge-"[/color] A voice retorted in a Spryzali accent. [color=gold]"Greetings, Ra- Frost."[/color]

[color=skyblue]"Yeah, s'me. About that time in Bluestrand..."[/color]

[color=gold]"The White Ash repays their debts. Whatever you need."[/color]

[color=skyblue]"I need one of your best agents, I have work that needs numbers."[/color]

[color=gold]"And I presume this agent is to be treated fairly, in relation to your...work."[/color]

[color=skyblue]"You get dirty, you get rich."[/color] Frost remarked bluntly.

[color=gold]"Very well, do you have any names in mind?"[/color]

Frost pondered that one for a second, then she remembered a certain someone.

[color=skyblue]"Get me Agent Wicked Falcon. ASAP."[/color]

[color=gold]"Understood. You will be patched through shortly, once Wicked Falcon and her handler are relayed your request. "[/color]

[color=skyblue]"Got it."[/color]

[color=gold]"And Frost- don't get our agent killed."[/color]

The line went dead as Frost waited for a phone call.

In the secret cogs of White Ash, information was sent to the people that needed it, until the brass got ahold of the tacks, and Molly "Wicked Falcon" Agaphira was assigned yet another mission.

Meanwhile, Frost pinged Vorra again. [color=skyblue]"If you're still there, I've got us someone good coming on board, I'll get back to you on that one, Frost out."[/color]

The plan was in motion. She turned back to the uninvited guest on the ground floor, roughly 15 feet down.

[color=skyblue]"Okay, explain yourself. Who are you? What's a Vrexul doin' in federal space?"[/color] Frost spoke with a blunt tone in her voice, her grip on her pistol had visibly relaxed a little, even if she still wasn't all too thrilled about someone getting the drop on her like that. It was a strange sight to see someone of his kind in a place like Davenrom, Vrexul despised the feds- probably more than her. She didn't actually know that much about his people, other than their weird biology and their messy history with the federation.

Meanwhile, on a distant land wracked with rime and mist...

A gruff, yet feminine figure trudged through feet-deep fresh fallen snow into a sunken valley. The sky was a churning cauldron of vapor and snow that one could rarely distinguish from the monochromatic, dim glow of the far away star that fit the barest definition of a sun. This was Formalis- a fringe land closed off from most of civilization, where you have to either be as hardened as the permafrost to survive, or capable of exploiting it. The physically stoic creature forged through the snow into a twisted, vaguely warmer mass of crashed ships, into shelter from the endless blizzards. Shortly after finding way inside. These ships hadn't been here long, they were still flaming and were painted with the hues of the Federation. No one survived the crash of these ships, which were meant to touch down in relative safety and establish a foothold, whether the native people wanted it or not. If agents of the government could gain so much as a scrap of influence over any land that wasn't already their own, they would spread like wildfire. The humanoid figure that stood to be roughly 6 and a half feet tall was a Skala, a native subcategory of Elksie to the frigid planet. She carried with her a walking stick with hardened bark for texture, and was covered head to toe in long, bulky clothes made of animal pelts and bones stitched together. The Skala woman stared at the broken mess of metal in curiosity, none of her people have surely ever seen such a thing. What would they say? Will more appear?

Bad things were coming to the dreary planet.[/center]