Cath

Price of Life (EliteCommander and Cath)

Vitality paused to consider this for a moment. “Perhaps that will work. There is one other matter we must consider though. My sources are clear about one thing – the surface of Veppecantel is extremely dangerous now. Even if you are resistant to the virus itself, its…effects still pose great risks. To protect my investment in this mission, I have made arrangements for a security detail, of sorts.”

Light flashed surprise at this statement. It was notoriously difficult to gain access to protection through FGC, for any sort of mission. The large Chekeri seemed to notice this reaction.

“As Quadrarch of Vitality, I cannot access mercenaries through normal channels accepted by non-profits such as ours without raising undue attention. So instead, I found another person who needs to get onto the surface but needs a skilled pilot. They have agreed to protect you all, in exchange for your help in extracting a very important person from a Myrmidon facility on the surface and getting them off-world. Senjen, your frame could provide useful cover in this gambit. If you are registered on their system as a worker that may no longer be an option, hmm?”

Price of Life (EliteCommander and Cath)

Ruknar seemed troubled. “I have been…selected as handler for a new type of automata containing advanced AI. Seraphim. She has the best virology credentials of anyone we’ve seen before but she’s…temperamental. Your job, should you choose to accept…”

Vitality clicked her bill and Ruk froze again.

“Your job is to get us through the blockade and onto the surface of Veppecantel, to the site of Patient Zero. Seraphim will do her thing, and then hopefully we get out of there again to formulate a vaccine. Or she might be able to make one on-site, who knows.”

Vitality sprayed murky juice everywhere and coughed.

“You are dancing around the problem, stupid girl! The blockade is very severe, only the most skilled smugglers will make it through unaided. However, my sources tell me that the makers of that fine suit of yours…” She raised a gnarled claw above the fuzzy nest material and pointed to Senjen.

“…Are still running mining operations on the planet. They have bought passage through the blockade for their transports because they require no organic crew to operate, and are continually cleaned with liquid and fire. All ships dock at a terminal in high orbit. Someone wearing one of their suits could go there, steal a ship ID and then sail straight through the blockade!”

Light wasn't liking the sound of this. “But if Senjen is caught stealing from Myr-“

“DON’T SPEAK THAT NAME” Vitality turned the Voice on him and his suit rippled. It didn’t have the same effect on QV within their suits but still served to make him pause.

“Ok! If he’s caught stealing from his maker, then they will seek a heavy punishment for him. Who knows what kind of kill switch they might have hidden away.” He looked at Senjen. “Sorry buddy, its true right?”

Price of Life (EliteCommander and Cath)

“Your word? Good, the first thing I’ll need is your word. Your word that this meeting remains secret until the final dregs of life force eke from your bodies. There’ll be no recording of what I’m about to say, understand? It incriminates us all, including your friend.” They tilted her head gently towards Ruknar, who held the jug with lightly trembling claws. She approached the nest of fibres and poured the murky liquid into a circular trough which the old Chekeri then slowly lapped up.

Light didn’t know who this was either. But a few fragments of street rumours and half-remembered history swirled around his head. It seemed like Ruk may have been there as insurance against any potential treachery. Both himself and Senjen would obviously agree not to record to protect her. But the fact that this mystery person had access to Ruk at all prompted a link between these fragments in his head.
“Are you someone high up at For Good Cause? Is that what this is about?” He asked.

The Chekeri raised their open beak like a chick being fed by its mother and set forth a dry, rustling laugh.

“So the reef-dweller is the brains of the outfit. Very good. I helped found this organisation back when it was called ‘Four Good Causes’. Vitality, Plenty, Innovation and Peace. The Quadrarch of Peace proposed we change the name nearly two centuries ago; turns out that was just to place a claw on scales of power in his favour. But that matters not now. Ruknar, my voice tires. Show you listen and tell them what I’ve told you.”

Ruk had fled the presence of the Quadrarch now and lingered by the bar. She glanced nervously at them before looking back at the other Chekeri.

“I don’t know if I’m the best person to tell them-“

“OBEY ME!” They cawed. Their Voice nearly sent Ruknar reeling backwards. Every muscle in her sinewy body tensed and untensed as one. It took a moment for her to recover, but eventually she became still, looked at Light and Senjen, and began.

“You’ve probably seen in the news about the planet Veppecantel. A prosperous and respectable world on the Darkling Plain, its been under an inter-system naval blockade for over two hundred cycles. The official reasoning is that separatist elements have threatened to export a deadly poison to other planet in the Plain. That is a load of cack. The real reason is because the planet has fallen victim to a touch-virus residents of Veppecantel are calling the Holophage. The Quadrarch of Vitality wants us to figure out what it is, and how to stop it.”

Price of Life (EliteCommander and Cath)

The Chekeri relaxed. It seems something Senjen said had satisfied them. A short jumble of staccato notes rattled from their chest. The other two who were approaching Light grabbed some devilled eggs from a patrolling cart of delicacies and left. “Come with me.” The first Chekeri said, turning away and heading deeper into Wurvel House.

"Wait, what? How did you do that?" Light asked, confused.

They led the pair of them through the winding passageways for an inordinate amount of them. Light was beginning to think they were playing some kind of practical joke when they turned off seemingly at random into one of the nests. It was occupied by a party of five, and then he noticed all of them wearing variations of the same amaranth keffiyeh. They stared at Senjen & Light as they passed, and their guide opened a secret door in the mossy wall. It closed and locked behind them.

The quiet barrier hit them like an invisible wall when they entered. They’d both feel their senses dampened, and difficulty memorising any details which weren’t meant to be recorded. They might recall they were in a larger version of the nests, very dark and smelling of incense. A private kitchen and bar abutted it, lit with sconces. Light gasped. At the bar mixing a large jug of murky juice stood Ruknar. She turned at the sound; she had a hard to read expression on her face. One filled with sparks of relief, apprehension and fear. She made to greet them, then something rustled within the pitch dark of the far corner.

Light’s vision adapted exceptionally quickly to the low light. He could see an unusually large and impossibly old Chekeri nestled into a bed of fibres taking up about a third of the whole nest. They wore a cloak that obfuscated nearly everything about them apart from their four beady eyes, two on each side.

“So, you have come. Ruknar was right – you can solve a problem. But that doesn’t mean I can trust you. Do you know who I am?”

Price of Life (EliteCommander and Cath)

The Chekeri didn’t seem satisfied with Senjen’s answer in the slightest. They tilted their head and studied them both on a slant. Their beak hung open a crack.

“Who would have good cause to invite you, fella? We can’t see inside your heart – It may be blackened. Brittle. Maybe you’ve spent too long in the cold water with your friend, eh?”

A couple of other Chekeri with purple scarves exited nests behind them and came up the aisle. It was very plausible they were just looking to squeeze past to go to the toilet, but Light doubted it somehow.

“Senjen.” He warned simply, turning so they were back-to-back and he was facing the newcomers.

“Maybe tell the nice Chekeri more about our very special invite, or I’m about to get pummelled into your back.”

Price of Life (EliteCommander and Cath)

“The first bite is with the eye, as they say.” Light replied cryptically.

He shook his head at Senjen when they mentioned the change in sound. He wasn’t as perceptive as the new Myrmidon suit as a rule. His whole body was designed to be immersed in water, and while his gel did a fair job of translating the air-filled environment for him, he still missed a lot of cues. He did point out the colour pattern of clothing within each of the dining groups though.

“One could certainly blend into the crowd in here. Maybe we should ask if there are any smaller parties waiting for people? Again, some service would be nice…”

The Chekeri wearing the amaranth keffiyehs began to take notice of them as they headed towards the back. When one caught Senjen looking directly at her, she left her nest and approached them. She was unkempt and rough-looking, but with a deeply intelligent look in her eyes.

“You fellas look lost. I don’t see any good cause for you stick around. Just say the word and I’ll show you the way out of here.”
Her voice sounded strange, muffled somehow. The noise of conversation around them died off somewhat.

Price of Life (EliteCommander and Cath)

“Life is brutal. Billions of years of things eating other things to survive. But at least it has meaning. What is life if you don’t need anything to survive?”

Light checked the time. “I’d say it’s the start of ‘tonight’, yeah. They didn’t specify a time so we must assume whoever might be here going to be here a while, no? I'm not hungry yet, and am in no mood to sit down when we've come all this way to find the person responsible for the messsage. I think we should search the restaurant, look for clues. Maybe if there is a member of staff around here we could ask them…”

He looked around. The paths between nests were crowded with rowdy and low-status Chekeri, with the occasional QV and Tindrel, but no one who looked like they might work here. Though that was difficult to discern. A song about the four horsemen of the apocalypse crackled through speakers overhead.

Price of Life (EliteCommander and Cath)

Light sighed and placed his tools down. He thought about digging his metaphorical heels in, but it wasn’t like their schedule was jam-packed with job opportunities. His current to-do list for the day included pottering around in the engine room with a cheap beer and a diluted drug bowl. He checked Wurvel House’s web presence quickly but couldn’t see any particular promotion. That didn’t necessarily mean anything though.

He slopped out from under the dash and got up. “Fine! Let’s travel all the way over there and learn about their new menu. I can always bring back takeout.”

---

They took public transport, since short term docking fees were extortionate pretty much anywhere. Light sulked most of the way but did take in interest in the view from the window as they left their urban conurbation and headed towards another.

Bakaran Parkside was a community on the north face of a large mountain range overlooking the city. A diverse range of buildings nestled into copses of old-growth trees. A steady stream of flyers went to and fro, landing on pads surrounded by lush vegetation. It was hot and humid despite the late hour.

The building that housed Wurvel House had been a particularly grand residence Chekeri once. It boasted six integral trees adorned with a maze of platforms and towers. However, it had evidently fallen on hard times. Both wings had been sold off to businesses, its front garden paved for parking and the back terraces overgrown with weeds. The restaurant occupied about 1/3rd of the west wing. A garish yellow sign with a symbol of the Wurvel bird protruded from the roof.

Light looked sceptically around as they alighted from the taxi. Two scruffy Chekeri fought over scraps on the front steps.

“Well this looks…quaint.” Light said.

Upon approaching the entrance, they’d find Wurvel house to be bustling with patrons. Inside was a claustrophobic space full of twists and turns. Diners squatted sociably together in synthetic ‘nests’ dug into the floor. Large platters of succulent roast Wurvel, a prey bird, along with their eggs, steamed vegetables and fried breads descended from the ceiling.

“Ok, tough guy. Who are we looking for?” Light asked as they shouldered their way into the lobby area. No one came to seat them. The chatter was deafening.

Price of Life (EliteCommander and Cath)

Light got a rush from helping to decipher the message, even if his contribution was relatively minor. He was then surprised when he recognised the name that appeared.

“Oh, I know Wervel House! It's an old Chek-brek joint. Serves at all hours, literally never closes. This must be some kind of clever marketing trick to get new customers. Well played, well played…” He moved to continue what he was doing before. He wasn’t hungry at that moment, and Bakaran Parkside was over an hour away. They’d have to do a little more to get him through the door.

Price of Life (EliteCommander and Cath)

“We don’t have to just be smugglers, we can do other legitimate jobs too! Now we’re armed, we could try to land a gig transporting rare metals or something? Ah, I don’t know.” He finished with a big shiver. Light had been a haulier for a long time, but never for anything as valuable those nondescript devices in the last job. The possibilities seemed dauntingly endless.

“Let’s go eat. World domination can wait until tomorrow. You can tell me all about the discount Jess offered you.”

---

Twenty day cycles later…

---

As it turned out, world domination could wait much longer than tomorrow. There was no new job offer from Jess, and only one short excursion For Good Cause. They picked up a few odd day-long jobs around the planet, but the payment from this only just covered their regular expenses. The current jobs on the Myrmidon board all had lengthy contracts that would’ve precluded any other activity. Senjen did fulfil his acting duties though, gaining a meagre bonus.

Then out of the blue they receive a junk text message via the ship’s comms net:

<< KFJDHT HBITW, JDSAEOO HIUSSVRF. LWQQGUH>>

“Hmm, weird.” Light said. He was repairing a busted power conduit under the main dash when he heard the ping.

“Senjen! You seeing this? It has got to be some kind of interference, right?”