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sadrain
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#1
Old 12-17-2014, 11:30 PM



By human calendar, it is year 4057 A.D., more widely recognized as year 523 A.P. (After Pact). Galaxy is bloating with unrest as criminals are growing bolder - with not enough clean hands on the task, law is becoming harder and harder to uphold. As a desperate move to appease civilians and avoid galactic crisis, Galaxy Law Enforcement has started to hire Freelance Units. A risky move that often seems to cause more trouble than its worth, except for some exemplary albeit stranger teams.

This story will be about one of these units, assembled from four individuals that are perhaps the most unlikely candidates for Law Enforcers. Already existing tight bonds are tested with newest addition to the team on its more than bumpy road towards uncovering a huge web of corruption that poses greater threat than anyone would dare to admit. Will the crew manage to accomplish this? Will the old bonds hold and new ones form? Or will their stark differences and personal motives split them up, lead them astray? Only time will tell.

| Sci Fi | Crime | Action | Drama | Mystery | Humor |



This is a private Role Play between Sadrain and Xavirne. There may be cussing, blood and also gore in this thread, so be warned and read at your own discretion.


Starring

Freelance Galaxy Law Enforcement Information Unit

I8a Serthumon [Played by Sadrain] - Senior Agent, Ship's Captain as an alien whose thirst for knowledge and understanding is only rivaled by her inability to comprehend emotions
Nathan Roscoe [Played by Sadrain] - Agent, Unit's Soldier as an unnervingly stoic cyborg, but you know as they say - the quiet waters are the deepest...
Nastasiya Radelle [Played by Xavirne] - Agent, Unit's Engineer as a bright, eager woman wanting to learn and willing to work hard
Androw Daveth Galeron [Played by Xavirne] - Consultant, Unit's eccentric trouble maker as a deeply troubled man who hides behind smiles and incredible annoying attitude

Last edited by sadrain; 01-17-2015 at 12:49 AM..

sadrain
Ghost Caracal
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#2
Old 12-17-2014, 11:31 PM

Setting information
Important knowledge about Galaxy will be placed here.​

sadrain
Ghost Caracal
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#3
Old 12-17-2014, 11:32 PM

Story summary
Short recap of the events will be placed here.​

sadrain
Ghost Caracal
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#4
Old 12-17-2014, 11:43 PM

Sadrain's characters



I8a Serthumon, the Captain


~[Known as: I8a Serthumon

(More facts)X

~[Name meaning: No distinctive meaning, per say, but the use of "8" and letter amount shows that she is descendant of royalty and/or her parents have incredibly high hopes of her
[~[Nicknames: Issa (pronunciation of her name), "That Sath", Captain

~[Age: 23 human years

(More facts)X

~[Birthday: 29th December, by old human calendar
~[Horoscope sign: Capricorn, by human horoscope. Eu8en weave, by old sath horoscope

~[First impression: Pixie like woman with no-nonsense attitude, but certain delicacy to her. Confident and knowledgeable, perhaps a bit stuck-up

(More facts)X

~[Mental state: Stable
~[Alignment: Treading between True Neutral and Neutral Good

~[Main abilities: Prodigious memory, enhanced speed and reflexes. Able to enter trance-like state under most circumstances, therefor locking out pain or discomfort. Does not need as much food, water or rest as most other races

(More facts)X

~[Secondary abilities: Bright and inquisitive mind, slight telepathic and telekinetic abilities she has been training
~[Ability drawbacks: Often (read: usually) she does not understand emotional aspect of things and actions - she is trying to remedy this, but not very successfully. She has very low immunity, causing her to use filter masks and other such items often

~[Notable skills: Incredible knowledge of star maps, ships and all things related to space travelling as well many other topics. Exceptional observation ability, skill to piece things together quickly and look at things from most unexpected angles. Very good at hand-to-hand combat, uses both guns and blades proficiently if needed

(More facts)X

~[Goals: Learning more about the Universe, beings that live in it and emotions; travelling. Helping others, especially her crew
~[Sexuality, Relationship status: Unclear; asexual? Single


Appearance: [Outfit 1][Outfit 2][Outfit 3][Outfit 4 at ship console]
~[Hair: Coppery red tone with darker streaks, cut nearly shoulder length
~[Eyes: Slightly slanted, with large iris of strangely bright turquoise color. Long, dark eyelashes
~[Complexion: Soft brown, but not tan
~[Height: 5'4"
~[Weight: ~115 lbs
~[Posture: Excellent, she carries herself with grace
~[Scars: None visible
~[Jewelry: None that she wears on daily basis

X

Although there is something ethereal about her, Issa looks surprisingly human for someone who is not. Still, she has peculiar, plump lipped mouth shape and her nose is much shorter than that of Earthlings, with rather small nostrils. The girl's eyes are slightly slanted with iris much bigger than that of humans and the color is unnatural - distinctive turquoise.

Despite that, all colors about her feel to be somehow toned down. Her skin is soft creamy brown, but not tanned, while her hair is rusty red with darker streaks. Issa likes to cut her hair short, not past her shoulders, letting it fall around her face. It is soft to touch and yields to however she wishes to form it, but as much as she likes beautiful things, her hairstyle is simple most of the time - and it does fit her.

Her face is somewhat diamond shaped, with rather sharp chin. There aren't many expressions on it, the most known ones being distant curiosity, slight awe and absolute calmness. Issa seems like coated over, with all inward turmoil hidden away, if it's even there.

In body form, the girl is short and petite, but extremely flexible and gifted with amazing reaction speed. There is also muscle under her skin, making her stronger than she seems. So, Issa makes quite the opponent, both good at evading close and ranged attacks. Her limbs are long and lean. She looks frail, really and younger than her years. With her natural grace that shows in all movements, there is something pixie like to her.

As for outfits, she is unfamiliar to concepts of desire and passion, so the clothes can be rather revealing, if the material or form is beautiful enough to catch her attention. In the past, it simply did not occur to her that they could summon certain reactions other than "that's beautiful fabric" from others. Now, she is more aware of this, but has not changed her wardrobe, not letting other races dictate her looks. She prefers calmer colors, but intricate details are quite the must. Although she does not like to waste much time on makeup and such things, for incredibly special occasions, she'll draw intricate patterns around her face as custom to her race. They may change, reflecting nature of this event.

Personality
~[Positive traits: All her mental qualities are on high level; she's very intelligent, well-read, thoughtful, wise and so on. In a sense, modest, usually thinking anyone else in her situation would know and accomplish the same. Honest, on the border of being brutally so. Incredibly loyal. Nearly insatiably curious and inquisitive. Perfectionist. Authoritative, without meaning to. Very focused, driven, although it's displayed subtly. Kind and caring, even gentle, in her own ways.

More factsX


~[Likes: Learning new things (knowledge as a whole), travelling and exploring. Her crew, although people in general aren't that bad. Beautiful things and creatures, in any shape, form and size. Order and peace. Seeing those around her happy (therefor disrespecting her team's a big no)
~[Hobbies: Navigation, ships, star maps and all things related. Taking pictures and records of beautiful things. Her search for knowledge seems to be hobby and nearly obsession in its own manner

~[Negative traits: Delves into things too deep often, over-thinking things and sometimes annoying people with her relentless questions. This applies particularly strongly to all things emotion related. She does not understand them and does not take them in consideration most of the time. Therefor, her honesty can be hurtful, unless she logically decides that being truthful can backfire. Definitely a perfectionist. Although she doesn't aspire to be, she immediately comes across as rather authoritative, bossy even. Her no-nonsense attitude can make her seem stiff and annoying. Something about her calmness unnerves most people. Naive in some aspects, assuming people won't do bad if they don't have a logical reason to, but after being proven wrong about this on many accounts, is more careful.

More factsX

~[Mannerism: She has no unneeded gestures, every more is efficient, and she lacks expression, but her face is not blank, it is just simply very calm.
~[Dislikes: Being unable to understand something, when someone is smarter than her (she doesn't mind equally smart). Hysterical or arrogant people, goofing around too much, careless attitude of any sort. When beautiful things are destroyed. Having peace and order disturbed. When people disrespect her team.

~[Quirks: Takes pictures and otherwise records all things beautiful, but does not take the things themselves in most cases. Meditates a lot

More factsX


~[Talents: None that she herself consider a talent
~[Philosophy: Knowledge is power, but if the information is thoroughly understood it becomes something so much more


X

Issa is not a typical Sath, but all of their common traits are present in her, even if weakened. She does not really understand emotions or have them in our typical sense. Mostly, she is calm and content, on exceptions feeling certain pleasure about things or situations, but she has yet to cry in her life. Only few times this girl has laughed from true, filling happiness.

However, the more thing she comes in contact with and goes further away from the teaching and preaching elder Saths, the more emotional world opens to her and although normally Issa does not feel fear, this scares her a tiny bit, but curiosity takes over. Still, she observes and tries to understand feelings of others rather than experiences them. When she is working or studying, she gets absorbed in it, the distanced curiosity becomes open interest and it's quite the change. She isn't passionate about anything, but comes close to that when the theme is stars or travelling.

She is very knowledgeable about everything she is interested in and even more, due to her phenomenal memory, where every tiny thing she learns is stored neatly. However, Issa is not stuck up about this, never treats others as fools on purpose, only sometimes her naive question "oh, you/other races don't know this?" can insult the conversation partner. Generally, it goes with the snobbish image of Saths, although she is far from being arrogant - rather the opposite. She has this calm confidence about her, sprouting from knowledge that her memory and logic is top-notch; after all the conclusions she's sure about have never been wrong yet.

The girl is perfectionist, much like anyone else from her race and an absolute aesthete. Having more personal taste than most of her kind, she likes having beautiful things around her and also wearing them. She pays a lot of attention to detail, maybe more than it's always tolerable for people around her. Issa likes to get to the bottom of the thing, understand reasons, like why the painter used those colors or writer used exactly these words (and in general, why do they express such strange things and share them with others?).

So, she is quite the scientist type in short. As all Saths, she does not like violence and will offer help when needed, if she understands why it is required. However, emotional support is hard to get from her, as someone crying will make her uncomfortable and Issa will not know what to do or why that person is so miserable (other than the chemical reactions that happen).

Still, Issa is pleasant to be around as she makes an okay listener. She is not always very talkative and when she speaks it's often quite scientific, but that aura of serenity and even gentleness attract people. Or something in her searching eyes make them uneasy until they get to know her better and then, most prefer to earn her soft friendship. Others want to get under the girl's skin and make her tick, but however it is, she is hard to ignore.
Over the years that she has been travelling and making her progress, she has earned her own ship and her feelings for its crew/team come closer to love than she realizes. It is motherly kind of love, though, with worries for her mostly oblivious 'kids' and in her loyal love, she'd risk her life for any of them.

Equipment and powers

X

Sath are not born or raised to be war machines. They aren't even supposed to ever get involved in anything violent. But despite that, they are far from easy prey. Each sath values physical and mental perfection, therefor they frequently train in special martial art in which each routine is a kind of mind-cleansing ritual. It is also acknowledged as means to defend oneself and honored as art of grace and power. All of this also applies to Issa, she has mastered this martial style like all other females - there is absolute gender equality among her race. She is naturally more agile, fast and flexible than a human, too, although the difference that is rather noticeable in fight is due to training.

Most of sath have natural telepathic and telekinetic gifts. Issa does, too, and although hers are not inherently very powerful, she has been training them a lot. Currently, she can communicate with people in nearby area and touch surface of thoughts, but only of someone that gives her permission. She can topple larger things over or push them and levitate smaller objects, but any of this requires great deal of concentration and drains her energy.

As sath, she's also trained in painting, singing and flower arranging. She can embroider, but not really sew and while she knows how to prepare some national foods and can probably present any food in beautiful manner, cooking beyond that is unfamiliar territory to her and one she hasn't been interested in exploring. However, she has mastered such odd jobs as painting spaceships and walls. Anything to accomplish beauty, apparently.

Beside that, she's excellent pilot. And of course, Issa is competent in her field of work.

Although she does not like to use weapons, she has two - a laser gun and her very own 'silver stick' as Roscoe refers to it with tiniest of smirks. This item indeed looks like smooth silvery stick, but when she activates it, one end opens to emit a short laser blade, while the other is used as taser of sorts. It is not exactly deadly, even turned on highest level, but serves its purpose well.

Information about sath

(Reveal)X

Although the origins of Saths are veiled and rise some questions, due to their likeness to humans, this race is well known across the worlds as very wealthy, snobbishly knowledgeable scientists that live in miniature Utopia. There are no wars, no crime, just devotion to cultivation of art and science. Many impressive inventions come from their home planet, called Sairess.

It is not that Saths are actually stuck-up, but do they consider them selves descendants of higher being and therefor, strive for utter perfection, for both them selves and world around them. As other races are flawed, Saths find them hard to understand and keep their distance, other than trading goods and sharing their science achievements.

There have been great disasters and bloodshed in the history of this race, but it is now nearly forgotten, the people of Sairess having learned to stray away from wild emotions. With time, feelings have completely faded away from them, calmness filling their beings. To an outsider, it is visible how their arts have grown stale, as now there are certain perfection limits that everyone must stick to and no new creation is really appreciated or even comes to true Sath's mind. Songs are about perfection, calmness, balance nature, beauty, but not such things as love, sadness, pain...

As people are so focused on improvement (both physical and mental) of them selves and serenity, less and less families are formed over the time and even if they are, children are born rarely. If Saths did not live such a long life - up to 200 Earth years normally, the race would already be dying out. They mature quickly, maybe about 6 years slower than normal humans, but when they reach age what would be 22-25 in human years, they stop aging physically until about 150 years later, they just as slowly get older.

Their planet is in absolute harmony, without any pollution. They lack defense against contagious diseases, as they simply don't reach them naturally, and their nose does not filter air so well than that of humans. Luckily, Saths have developed various medicine to save them from the disastrous effects world beyond Sairess can have on them.

In their culture, words and names have a very big meaning. Each letter also have its own meaning and matter, letter 'S' being the most important sign of all, as two, when shifted around can form 8, which is sign of eternity and absolute balance. If it is used in name, parents are usually of royal descendants and have high hopes of their child. Names are usually balanced, with equal amount of letters on each side of the 'main' letter.

Relationships with her team


Nathan RoscoeX

She doesn't use word 'friend', but if she did, he would surely be at the top of her list. She finds him a good company, glad that they both enjoy silence equally, and greatly values their lengthy discussions about books, galaxy and whatever else comes to their minds. She also... worries for him sometimes, although the term is foreign and alien in her mind. She trusts him with her life, with her whole team life's and knows he wouldn't betray or let her down. In her opinion, he is as close as human can ever be to being sath, with his inner peace and balance, and that is highest compliment she can possible give


Nastasiya RadelleX

Issa finds her engineer fascinating in a sense and does not mind spending time in the slightest. Colctivus woman provides her with insight very much different than hers or Roscoe's. She enjoys their conversations, especially when they are about cultures of their homes or anything ship related. She respect the other alien's extensive knowledge of all these tech-related things and can't honestly imagine the ship without Tasi on it, a strong hint at depth of their strange friendship


Androw Daveth GaleronX

Pending

Ship information

Lower Deck|Upper Deck

(More)X

Its name is "Vordecore", affectionately (or not so much) called 'Pincer of Doom' or just 'Pincer', due to its peculiar form. One of the things that Issa has never felt the need to elaborately explain is how she came to own this ship. She says it was "passed down to her", but by whom and how remains unclear. Perhaps she thinks it's obvious and doesn't need to be said. Rumors wary from that she killed old captain and its crew to that it was given to her by her lover or even that she won it in a gamble or bet. But since no Law Enforcement has raised any issues about her ownership of Arrow, it must have been somewhat legal.

In any case, its past owners must have been interesting people, as this is clearly bounty hunter ship. Lower deck contains fully equipped holding cell with extra security measures and, if needed, prisoner can be contained in a laser cage in the corner. Next to it, there's small but efficiently planned armory. The ship is small and easy to maneuver, has speed in and outside jumpspace and a lot of guns. Although this spacecraft is designed to pack a punch and evade (or run off), it also has a decent shield which can be turned into temporary stealth generator.



Last edited by sadrain; 12-18-2014 at 12:02 AM..

Xavirne
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#5
Old 12-26-2014, 12:49 PM


Androw Daveth Galeron

{ nicknames } Andy, Drow
{ gender } Male
{ age } Thirty-seven years old
{ sign } Leo; August 21st
{ height } 5-foot, 11-inches
{ race } Human of Earth

{ hair } Freshly dyed cyan hair (naturally grizzled raven)
{ eyes } Dulled gray
{ skin color } Pale peach skin; can't tan
{ brows } Slender and neatly groomed
{ lips } Taut and slim
{ jaw } Strong and square; slight feminine smoothness to it
{ nose } Without dumps or hooks; smooth and nicely rounded
{ hair style } Unkempt and shoulder length; fringe in the front

{ alignment } Chaotic Good/Neutral Good -- He's unorthodox and believes in freedom.

{ attire } Androw wears a suit wherever he goes, unless it's the weekend. On weekends he wears nice grayed jeans with white thighs and knees with his black combat boots. For a shirt, he'll wear a white shirt with a black vest. Atop his head, he'll sport his fedora or sunglasses. Weekends are his "monochrome" days. He only wears black, grays, or white. During the week, he allows himself to wear colors, usually dark colors. His suits are only gray or black in color, so his tie or shirt receive the splash of color. He tends to prefer deep blue, teal, and crimson, though he's been spotted in light purple and powder blue before. Silver sometimes makes an appearance. When wearing his suit, he wears his black dress shoes and a nice belt. He always wears a vest as, when it's hot, he'll take his suit coat off and run around in his oxford and vest. It should be noted that all his clothes are slim-fitting and very flattering on him. He would never wear something "ugly" or "sloppy." Why, even his night attire makes him look rather dashing (black robe with teal slippers)!

{ accessories } Dogtags. He never takes them off. A waterproof watch that's solar powered and comes with a compass/GPS and temperature option. A frayed friendship bracelet of dulled cyan and purple with the letters LJ in silver.

{ theme song } Nightcore - Still Worth Fighting For

{ personality }
On the outside, I'm strong. I'm unbearable. Flawless. Inwardly I'm nothing but a coward who hides behind his false face. The facade I've created has become more than just a lie I tell myself to sleep at night. It's my medication. My drug. It's who I need to become. If I don't, I fear I'll lose myself to the bottom of the bottle. I'm not sure I can handle one more battle scar....

Androw Daveth Galeron. That's my name. I've never changed that. It's the name she fell in love with. It's the name I keep as it's all I have left of her.

We were young, naive, stupid. We had it all. Everything. We were to rule the world and become something truly impressive. She saw something in me that no one else saw, just as I saw something in her. We were perfect for each other. She my sweet angel and I her devious devil. We were like white and black, yin and yang.

Her ghost taunts me still. I can still see her eyes as she slipped from my hand. It's a memory I'll never lose. It's one I'll never be able to lose for I'm the blame. I'm the one at fault. It's my burden to bear and my heart to torture.

Lilith Jefftron. Died at 21. Accidental.

It wasn't an accident. I was there. They, Sven Void and the Prophet, were there. We were having a picnic at the foot of a beautiful lake. Little did we know we were treading on their waters. That we were in the Void. We were wasted. Shitfaced beyond belief. I was going to purpose that night. She knew it. We were so giddy. So happy. So in love.

And then they came.

They ripped her body from my arms. I was nothing against them. Seventeen and stupid, I tried to fight them. I rushed forward but was caught by one of the goons. In seconds, they were stomping me, crushing me, breaking me. As they did that, Void laughed. He then called forth his Prophet and allowed her to...

The fear in Lilith's eyes was unbearable. Her pain. I felt it all. As she screamed, I screamed. As she bled, I bled. When they threw her body off the cliff's edge, they ripped away my humanity. My sanity. My heart.

I will never forget her eyes. Wide with terror yet full of such hope. She willed her strength onto me and prayed that I would someone make it. That I would somehow live and escape.

I don't really remember what happened next for I fell limp and blacked out, but what I do remember was waking up to a man pressing down on my chest. I was soaked and the officer was overjoyed when I puked up liquid. I came back from wherever I went. Hell? No, it wasn't hell. It was darker and wet. I went to the abyss. The bottomless abyss in the sea. I was to die. I was to drown.

Somehow, as if Lilith's last act, the police found me. All the evidence was gone. Everything.

They said I was delusional. They said we were stupid. They said we tried to go rock climbing.

I know we didn't. I know she was... murdered.

No one believed me. They called me insane. A liar. Now, 20 years later, I'm still facing resistance. I'm still meeting dead ends.

I've no leads on Sven Void and his crew of Voids. But I swear, upon Lilith's unfound body, that I will get my vengeance. Somehow. Legal or not, he will pay. They all will. They ruined my happiness. They destroyed my future. They built me up to be someone I'm not.

I used to laugh. I used to be kind. Now I laugh in mockery. I'm conceited. I've built up a wall of isolation and void of emotion. I won't let people in. I can't. I don't want to lose anyone else. Never again.

After that incident, I joined the military at 18. I served for six-years. I hoped to die in action, but that never happened. I was too smart. They didn't want me on the field, but rather the infirmary. I was put through medical and clinical training. Upon leaving the military, at 24, I moved onto college. I studied to be a doctor. I worked as a doctor for six years. And then I lost interest. These past three years have been hard. I've done nothing but wander and search for Void. I've still found nothing on him and his gang. I'm hoping, soon, I'll run into a lead and I can go about getting my left back.

I really want to get back to living. Being an empty shell... it gets lonely after time.
{ powers }
I am merely a mortal man, I have no supernatural powers or possessions in my nature. Yet, even at this disadvantage, I am more than capable of defending and protecting myself. I've a brain unlike any other. I'm a certified genius and I have the membership badge to prove it. Aside from my brilliance, I am also one hell of a doctor. I only treat important, worldly figures. Let me correct myself, used to treat. Upon leaving the medical field and fulfilling my obsession, I haven't touch my tools or a body.

What else do I have in my arsenal? I've a silver-tongue. I'm a smooth talker. I'm more of a talk the talk to avoid walking the walk. I'm an manipulator, a real engineer of the mind. If I need something, I'll make it happen via words and gestures. Perks of having a degree in Psychology.

Believe it or not, I'm quite fast. I don't look like an athletic person but I am. Recall that I'm former military. I run 10 miles a day, three times a week. On my other four days, I swim or lift weights. I know that my body's health determines my health. The fitter I am, the smarter I can become.

I've a knack for cooking and sewing. With my knowledge of herbs, plants, and chemicals, I can really turn anything into something delicious. Since I've laced up bodies before, I'm also more than capable of sewing a sweater or mending ripped jeans. All the vests I wear, I made. Currently in the process of making a scarf for myself (one of those "hipster" scarves for "cool kids").

Heh, I'm also very good with animals. I know how to read them. Growing up on a farm my whole life, you grow accustomed to nature and all its fine creatures. I'm best with horses and cats, but dogs always seem to love me. Even birds enjoy my company. I actually have a pet lizard named Cat. When I was three, my parents bought me a lizard and I named him "Gato Two-Point Oh." Didn't know any better. Happened upon this guy a few weeks back and he looks just like Cat so I decided to bring Cat back. I call him Gato or Two, mood dependent.
{ weapons }
I'm afraid fighting isn't really my thing. No, don't assume such things. I am more than capable of murder. I have killed men point-blank and without remorse. As a hardened soldier, death does not bother me. I've come to terms with it and embrace it fully.

Although I don't usually carry a weapon with me, I am capable of using a wide array of guns; sniper rifles being my favorite. Before falling down the clinic route, I was slated to join the sniper brigade. I'm capable of calming my breath and controlling my nerves. If I really need to, I can force my heart to slow and steady my body. I can be what you call, dead, with one heartbeat per two minutes. Yes, I'm one hell of a shot, if needed.

I'm more than capable of using a candle stick, rope, or wrench to defend myself too. Not stuff I learned from the military, but things I picked up from being a doctor. Sometimes people get mad. Sometimes they go after you. You really have to be able to turn anything into a shield or a sword.
{ miscellaneous }
I should steer clear of alcohol. I am an addict. I spent a lot of time drinking my woes away to the point where I blacked out. The black outs became frequent because it was during those moments that I could see her face. This became a dangerous game. One day... I... I woke up in a hospital with tubes and monitors all around me. Someone found me blacked out and cold on the floor. They placed an emergency call. I had blood alcohol poisoning. Ever since that day, I've tried to distance myself from it. But boy it's tempting. It calls my name. I hear it whispering to me, begging me kiss my lips again.





Nastasiya Radelle

Hello there, kind viewer! Allow me to introduce myself and my path to where I am today. Let's start by getting who I am out of the way. Please note that not all the information provided is of my own accord and desire. Yes, the government has added some information to this profile as, well, I'm an agent of the galaxy so it's natural that they leave notes and information. I'll do my best to make it plainly obvious that you're reading my thoughts versus those of the government.


My name is Nastasiya Radelle. Odd name but it's the one I've come to know and love. But don't worry, I don't make you say the full thing out; Tasi [/U]works just fine! I'm twenty-eight years old and I'm a mechanic by choice. Yes, I'm a female engineer, deal with it! I'm damn good at what I do and I love every second of it. The grease, oil, tar -- whatever, it just adds to my beautiful complexion. No, seriously, it does. You'll see what I mean later when I get into my looks.

I'm what you call a Colctivus. No, I'm not human. I'm what you humans of earth call "aliens." Large eyes? Green skin? Three fingers? No, no, no. There are more aliens out there and we're not all that simple and, dare I say it, ugly. I like to think I'm a truly beautiful creature, one of great looks and luxury. I hail from a plant that is rich with nutrients and wealth. We're a planet that harvests the medicinal herbs that prolong life and cure ailments. Our harvests are all grown within tropical forests and greenhouses. We're a species that loves humid climates and warmth. The snow is wicked and cold, something I am not. I am soft like butter and rich like cream. I guarantee you've never seen a creature like me before.

So what is a Colctivus, or Colus for short? What makes us so "unique." Well, for starters, we're a humanoid species. We stand upright just like humans. We have normal human legs and feet. I can wear Levi jeans and I can wear Carhartt boots. I have the breast and chest of a human, too. Like I said, I look very similar to humans. So where do I differ? For starters, my skin. It's a different range of colors. Ever seen a tuxedo cat or an orca whale? They have two distinctive colors - a light underbelly and a dark top. Like those creatures, I too have a light underbelly (the sensitive spots on my skin - inside thighs down to the knees, inside of my arms down to my elbow, up to my jaw, and across my chest down to much crotch) and dark exterior (face, lower arms, lower legs, back, butt). Now the color depends on the exact subspecies. My colors are mauve and dark gray-blue. The color of my skin determines the color of my hair and eyes, too. Even my tongue matches my skin coloring! I have pale thistle eyes and lavender hair. And my tongue, it's twilight lavender.

As a part of my species culture, we're to receive Coming of Age tattoos on our bodies. These are silver in color, for women, and gold, for men. The silver tattoos are placed according to your rank, structure, and what the Great Farseer sees. If she sees happiness in your future, you receive certain symbols in shapes. If she foresees death and war, you get something else.

Me? I have a crescent moon on my forehead just above the brows and a star on my collar bone. These shapes indicate that I am a traveler, expected to see a great many things and become a source of knowledge and power for my people. My hands are completely dyed silver to indicate that I work with my hands. The marks are splattered and wavy, letting all know that I don't mind getting my hands dirty and that I am flexible, adaptable. Down my back are straight lines, two to be exact, that represent my structure and sound resolution. Around my thighs are more lines (horizontal rather than vertical this time). There are three lines on the left and one thick one on the right. These represent my firm support. I come from a wealthy, knowledgeable, loving family -- and my family grounds me and created my ground support.

What else have I to share? How about my height and sizes. I'm 5-foot, 8-inches tall on the slender yet built side of the scale. I have 34C cup-size, I'm a bit busty, and I have a kickin' ass. Love thongs and sports bras. I always wear either white or black, can't stand the colors -- unless it's bright green! I wear short shorts that come up past my navel (I like to make my legs look long); they're often white in color. As for a top, I wear a cropped shirt (either black or white) that hangs off my broad shoulders and exposes my abs. Don't worry, you can't see my breasts too much -- I do wear a sport's bra to keep the girls down! Also love to wear a scarf around my neck that hangs down around my back (that's silver in color). I accessorize too; large silver bangles around the wrists and three rings on my left hand. Ears are pierced too with cuffs on the left and danglies on the right!

{ weapons}
Weapons? I don't have weapons. I have tools. I'm a mechanic. I use wrenches, screwdrivers, hammers, saws, shovels... whatever I need to get a job done. I'm very good at turning anything into something. I'm a tinkerer, an inventor, and handywoman. I fix what's broken and if I can't fix it, I scarp and re-purpose it. I'm no idiot either. I can see the bigger picture, the future use of whatever I create.

On the off chance I do have to defend myself (oh Great Farseer I pray thee see anti-violence in my future), I would probably opt for my shovel or hatchet. I'm a sloppy, melee fighter. Though I could probably creature a heat-glove, taser, gun... anything, if I wanted.

Last edited by Xavirne; 01-06-2016 at 04:09 PM..

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#6
Old 12-26-2014, 09:32 PM

In a world - aggregate of worlds, actually - where information is money, power and most other things a person can desire, information crimes often go hand in hand with murder. This is one of those cases. In I8a's experience, those are always the messiest and the kind best to get over with quickly. There is no guarantee the criminal will not take another life and that would be just unprofessional of them to let such a thing happen. If brass is particularly picky, they might scold her for not foreseeing this crime happening in the first place. As if she was psychic.

With firm stride, I8a approaches glowing laser cordon and the two Law Enforcement officers stationed there. They look at her with furrowed brow, gazes travelling from the petite red head with calm, nearly empty expression and bright turquoise gaze, up to the rugged face of somehow menacing taller man who is following on her heels clad all in black, cybernetic sunglasses hiding his eyes. They have seen that look hundreds times before in the last 3 years of working together and it has never phased either of them. She flashes her badge - a handy piece of electronic chips encased in plastic that held her fingerprints and some more information that would prove it truly belongs to her - and realization dawns on the faces of both humans.

"Ah, the freelancers!" youngest voices, receiving sharp look from the other. He shrivels slightly and without another word, presses button to pause laser stream and let the pair pass. She thanks and moments later, they are in the crime scene. It's nothing special on its own, really. A dozen of servers on the right aligned in four rows of three, a data access console in the front. A shabby metal table with tech bits and possibly some personal belongings, rolling office chair that looks well past its prime are at the opposite wall. But the fact that this room of high level equipment and apparently, highly sensitive, information is placed in a shabby warehouse in jungle on some middle-of-nowhere planet is strange. And those thick metal doors on the left are at least slightly unusual, too. She can bet they are much better protected than they seem.

I8a puts on gloves, their snow white color matching her blouse underneath brown leather corset and cravat, held by beautiful pin and with beautiful details on it, again in brown color. Same leather seems to make up her pants (with many buckles along the edges for decoration) and thick soled boots. She had planned to use a different outfit for today, but out of respect for victim picked a more modest one. Even sath don't find it in good manners to show cleavage at burials or other times when deceased are concerned.

She moves over to the data access terminal, has a quick look at the screen and then backs off. She turns to the male that is currently kneeling, inspecting something on the floor a bit to their left. He doesn't need gloves, his shiny black metal hands have no fingerprints. "Roscoe, when you're finished there, make a copy of all data here. Find out what were last actions performed, so we know what was thief's goal. And also try to find traces of access form - if the culprit broke in the system or he used proper pass codes and information. If so, this might be an inside job." He looks up at her and nods.

I8a moves towards the body, laying near the mysterious, thick doors. There is laser wound to his chest, the beam having cauterized the wound so there is no excessive blood. He lays there as he fell, one arm stretched, the other next to his holster - reaching for his gun, maybe? - and what she reads as startled expression on his face. Perhaps he wasn't expecting someone to be here. Or maybe its like this because he recognized the person about to kill him? She searches his pockets, but finds nothing besides packet of chewing gum. She had hoped for something that could hint at his identity. For now, he is still John Doe to them.

She stands up, brushing strand out of her face and tucking it behind her ear, and approaches the doors. There is no handle, no keypad next to it, absolutely nothing that would hint at way they could be accessed and opened. Perhaps, from the data access terminal...

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#7
Old 01-16-2015, 08:55 PM

"Hey-o, Izzy," a woman comes out of nowhere flashing a badge and grinning past the guards stationed at the crime scene. Not usually one to be on the field, the girl's appearance caused a few brows to furrow and curiosities to pique. Why was an engineer, a techie, on the field. Unlike I8a who had a modest air to herself, this woman, Nastasiya "Tasi" Radelle, was far from modest. Her midriff showed and her cleavage was fully visible. Not so much in the risque manner, but in a stare-worthy fashion. Low-cut jean shorts even showed off the tail ends of her rounded rear -- an ass of a woman who worked out daily. Her wedges, cute and girly, hardly seemed fitting for running, let alone entering a crime scene, and yet she wore them with style and pride.

Hand pulling through her lavender hair, the two-toned humanoid laughed. "Oi-oi," her nose turned up as it caught a whiff of death, "no one told me there was a body." Pouted lips and disheveled eyes turned from I8a and fell on Roscoe. "Yup, would have stayed on the ship had I known. The nose is not pleased with this sickly scent."

With the clearing of her throat, she moved toward the terminal. Roscoe was good, but she was better. A hacker by nature, Tasi easily unlocked the terminal and authorized the machine to open the door I8a stood beside. "I presume this is why I was summoned," head falling backwards, she winked at one of the guards. "I think Ros could have handled this, but I did just save you a shit-load of time. You're welcome, Izzy!"

Tasi was an odd woman. She was of the Colctivus race, a humanoid species that looks human, save for the odd colors and spiritual rituals. In Tasi's case, she's a mauve and dark gray-blue in color with pale thistle eyes and light purplish hair. Although her looks were purely Colctivus, her antics and behavior was far less Colctivus. She was naive yet blunt, and rather unprofessional around superiors. It wasn't that she disrespected them though -- no, she adores them completely -- but she's never been one to follow strict guidelines or rules. Growing up on a planet were destiny is written in the stars, Tasi always believed that rules were just guidelines rather than solid structures of law. To her, things like bosses and presidents made no sense. With age and enlightenment came power, and although I8a was brilliant, she was by no means enlightened, at least in Tasi's eyes.

Sucking her teeth, Tasi tossed her rump into a nearby chair and spread her legs so the back of the chair was nestled between her thunderous thighs. "Need me to do anything else Izzy?" I8a's name, written out as Issa, was typed in a language unknown to Tasi when she first met the woman. Upon first glance, Tasi read Izzy and has since then called the woman as such. The joys of language barriers. Since then, Tasi has come leaps and bounds with I8a's tongue, but some habits just die hard. Besides, in Tasi's mind, I8a or Issa is just too bland and not girly enough; women's names needed to end in cutesy "ee" or "i" sounds.

"Better hope the killer's not in there," she teased ever so lightly as she kicked the chair around the floor. "Also, Cap'n, I'm putting in a request for wheelely chairs on the ship. I gotta get me one of these!"

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#8
Old 01-16-2015, 09:41 PM

Nathan doesn't have to turn around and have a look to know who just had arrived - he recognizes the bouncy step of their engineer - and his jaw tenses ever so slightly. But he isn't surprised, mentions of such things as inaccessible doors and data terminals draw the Colctivus woman like a honey pot may draw a fly. Ironically, she has the same effect on most men. Even now, eyes of guards follow her closely. He isn't entirely sure Nastasiya knows what effect she has, but guesses she has a pretty good idea. Unlike Boss, who is completely unaware of how men ogle her bosom or behind when she dresses in her regular tight, revealing outfits.

"There usually is a body, Radelle," he reminds her in indifferent tone, stepping aside and letting her do her job, instead he goes to look through things on the table, capturing picture of the whole scene, then each item and taking few that aren't broken metal tidbits as evidence. Even after 3 years, he insists on calling her after last name, on and off the clock. Boss calls her by her name or even Tasi sometimes when they're not working, slipping in and out of the more familiar speech with ease. But they also know each other longer. And they are friends, in their own special kind of way. Doesn't matter that perhaps neither of them call it so or even realize it.

"Roscoe would have handled this, but thank you, Radelle," I8a tells the other woman. She knows no one summoned their engineer, per say, and she would argue about the semantics, if the newly opened room didn't have most of her attention (there is always time for it later). And there is no use denying that this went so much faster with her help. "Since you are already here, see if you can find out if it is a break in or intruder had access information to the terminal," she orders and although her voice doesn't have a usual authoritarian bark, it doesn't really give space for arguments. Sath knows Roscoe didn't have the time to get it done yet, but he probably already has copy of all data and process for last action tracking going.

After first inspection, there seems to be nothing but data banks in the new room. "Boss, look at this," Roscoe calls her and she immediately goes to his side, kneeling to inspect what he is pointing out on the floor near doors. It looks like something heavy has been pulled and left skid marks. "I found similar ones near access console." She doesn't have to tell him to take pictures from various angles, he probably already has or will in the next few moments. (He has.) They have developed certain routine over the years. He looks down at her, pondering what the marks means. He has a theory forming, but so does she, probably.

While I8a process this and continues to inspect the floor with greater scrutiny, she offhandedly informs that rolling chairs on space ship are not safe and there will not be any in shared rooms, while what Nastasiya has in her private quarters is none of Issa's business, if she is so keen on endangering herself. She doesn't fight the nickname anymore, after countless times of trying to explain significance of names and just how they are said and written in her culture. 'Izzy' lacks certain elegance, but she has grown used to it. The continued search is rewarding, she finds a burnt remains of chip by one of the data banks and tucks it in a bag. Curious.

"We need to search the surrounding area," she informs the other actual field agent. "It seems like one of the data banks was taken, although there is no empty space. Still, we might find a clue where or why it was taken outside." Nathan nods, having thought of a similar thing. "Radelle, see if you can find what is in those data banks, get a copy," I8a says, then turns around. They exit the crime scene and even the shabby warehouse, with him again on her heels. He feels that the oldest Law Officer is watching them, probably wondering just how they get anything done (despite having witnessed their efficiency just now), while youngest is still staring at Radelle. Well, she does look exotic, but does he have to be so open about? It is disrespectful.

Does Roscoe care about respect deeply? No, he doesn't. Just like he doesn't care for laws for the sake of laws themselves - men like him are created to bypass laws, by the men who created these laws in the first place. Going by them most of the time simply ensures he can be harsh to those who don't. In the end, only rules he really follows are the ones set by someone he respects and is loyal to. His Commander. His Boss. Right now, and for a long, long time more if he has any say in it (and he will), it's the Sath woman who has never doubted him.

Respect does matters when it comes to the two women on his unit, though. It's not just chivalrous nature, although that may play a role in it; the main reason is that they are part of his team. He knows them, he has seen their brilliant minds at work, just like he knows their shortcomings and all of it makes Nathan realize their value. Value as excellent colleagues, if nothing more. And while others might not have the time to learn all he had, it is obvious that they are good at what they do and therefor, deserve to be respected. Their skills shouldn't be belittled or ignored because of their... physical assets. Or even attitude.

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#9
Old 01-16-2015, 11:01 PM

Moaning, Tasi pushed herself up from her chair to stand back and inspect the unit before her. There was a certain bit of class to hacking, or at least that's what she would tell people. You couldn't just do anything. No, that could lead to data leaks or erasing. One needed tact and skill to properly find what was purposely hidden. It wasn't an easy task, which was why Tasi was called forth to inspect the machines. Sure, Roscue or even I8a could have done it but, as stated before, Tasi was the expert. The only reason the woman worked for the force was because they needed the best of the best.

Years ago, the team was hunting down a crooked corporation. But they had no leads. No proof. No nothing! It was impossible to touch these guys. That was until a young and bright-eyed, was Tasi appeared.

She was already on their radar. She was hard to catch and even harder to find. Not to mention, she saw no harm in what she did. In her mind, she wasn't doing anything wrong. No one died and no one got hurt. Hell, she even paid for the technology in some form or another. Tasi liked to build things and she didn't like having to wait for technology to be released so she would hack into companies and read their data. Sometimes she would laugh at the findings; other times she would be impressed and build her own personal items from her findings. If anyone could reverse engineer anything, it was Tasi.

Rather than waiting to be arresting her for stealing IP, the young woman walked herself to the main headquarters and turned herself in. It was a bold move, but it was the move that would forever change her life.

She found something so bad that she had to share it. She didn't care if she was arrested or killed. What she found needed to be shared.

During those days, it was illegal to spy on people. Technically, it still is. Regardless, a company was spying on its people and, anyone who quit, magically vanished. The agency had no proof. There were no leads. None of their hackers could break the code or get the dirt they needed. But Tasi, Tasi did. And it scared her. And what she saw was coldhearted murder. Fearing for her life, she ran to the agency.

Apparently, her sense of justice was enough to wavier all her past crimes (she still refuses to believe it's a crime; just like she doesn't think pirating movies or music is bad) and land her a job with the agency. Sure, she had to work her way up to Tactical Technician and Senior Engineer, but Tasi didn't let her low-rank get her down. She did what she could and she kicked ass. In no time, she was working for the management team. And then, a few months later, she was out the door and placed on a ship that patrolled that galaxy. It was a great honor and one that Tasi adores. Besides, it's how she found her best friend, Izzy.

As her eyes gazed over the machine, she bent and twisted. Every inch of the machine needed inspecting. And, as expected, the officers on scene spent a good deal of time inspecting her. There were even a few instances where Tasi's attire might have been a little too tight or revealing, but that's besides the point.

When she was finally ready, the woman slipped from her wedged heels what looked like a USB Thumb drive. Slipping it into the machine, a screen instantly popped up. Purple and cheeky, it was a dead giveaway that Tasi was hacking. "Uhh, you might want to look away. I'm being a crook again," she joked before completely blocking out everything else around her. Right now and for the next 15 to 30 minutes, she would do nothing but stare at this screen. No one, not even I8a could pull her attention away. This was her time and this was her zone.

Earphones on, she took her seat and let her hands grace the keyboard. Speed unlike anything anyone could ever imagine allowed her to swiftly enter codes and bypass blocks and firewalls. There was nothing that could stop her. Even the virus that should have fired the computer was no match for her. With each and every passing second, her brows knit closer together and the sweat on her brows ran down her cheeks. This, this is what she lived to this. And this, this is why she's a world-class agent.

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#10
Old 01-16-2015, 11:03 PM

I8a nods, acknowledging her engineer's words, before they leave. Perhaps other unit senior agents would find hacking on this level inappropriate, but in the time they live in, Sath believes that certain fires have to be fought with fire. And, apparently, so does brass, or otherwise Tasi wouldn't be given spot in FGLEIU. (She might have had a say in that, however.) After all, they are freelancers, they are paid to do things their own special way, because regular unit can't get it done regular and all-by-the-book way. That is what she says when their methods are questioned. Usually, it's done by local Law Enforcers as higher ups don't pay attention to her unit as long as it doesn't stir up trouble. And it doesn't.

Out of the warehouse, the pair can't find any trails, only the shoes and heavy boots of Law Enforcers having stomped yellowish grass down to the ground. (At some point in time, probably age of 12, he had stopped wondering and simply accepted how many planets shared things with Earth.) They stand on the edge of jungle, staring ahead, as if wall of plants could give an answer to their many questions. Roscoe says that someone might have parked a hover vehicle just out of the doors in which the data bank was then loaded in it. He watches Boss frown ever so slightly that without years of watching her reactions he wouldn't even notice. For first month with the team, Roscoe hadn't been able to decide if he found her unmoving expression utterly strange (but he definitely hadn't been creeped out, that would be unprofessional) or somehow calming. Now he knows the signs; that slightly furrowed brow, faint tightening of her lips, nostrils that flare for a split second, each telling more than hundred words when they come from the red-haired woman. Nathan wonders just what was bugging her so strongly about this case. Sure, they are missing a lot of pieces, but that's how it usually was at the start.

I8a suggests they return to warehouse, have another look around. She wants to personally inspect things on the table, check if there is a bug maybe. And also ask two Officers who and how found the body, about this place as a whole. She was told it was anonymous informant, but the woman knows better than to take such a statement at face value. It may be for someone's protection, but it would be safer for that person if they found out true culprit faster. Especially if the thief and murderer didn't work alone. And then the scream comes. They both react immediately, breaking out in a sprint, and reach the doors of warehouse at the same time - I8a pauses just for a second, to let him in first. Moments later, Roscoe is already in the main room, jumping over laser cordon, and it's his Boss following on his heels now.

If it looks like Radelle is in danger from someone, he won't hesitate tackling the person to the ground. Same if someone's trying to flee the scene. Or at least pulling his gun out, pointing it at the (possible) offender, while Issa does the same, her voice still so impossibly calm while she would say, "Galactic Law Enforcement, don't move." But if the situation isn't as dramatic and dangerous, Nathan can switch to walking right away, pushing between Radelle and whatever made her scream with his presence, seemingly calm, but ready to act, while I8a closes in.

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#11
Old 01-16-2015, 11:07 PM

She was so caught up in the hacking process that she lost her ears and senses to the machine. There was just too much here to do and not enough time. Between copying the data over and digging deeper, Tasi was finding all she needed -- and then some. The "and then some" was mainly for her own benefit. After all, it's hard to turn a greedy inventor into strictly a law enforcement engineer.

Easily excited and so engrossed in everything she did, Tasi was left exposed and unknowingly in harms way -- or so it would seem. With no one but the two-tone girl in the room, it became the ideal time to escape. Only, as soon as the escape become an opening, it fled. Why? Well, the screen was too interesting. Taking slow, silent steps forward, the escapee cocked his head to the side. He watched everything she did. It was impressive and if he wasn't a fast reader, he probably would have missed everything up on the screen. For a brief second, he actually pulled out his smartphone and started taking notes. Then, upon realizing what he was doing, he decided to stop. It was just too weird for him. After all, who was to say this wasn't the killer. The one who caused him to hid in that secret cabinet. The one that he was told knew about Sven Void, his arch-nemesis.

How had he been so lucky to be alive? Well, that was the thing about Androw Galeron. He was just a lucky bastard. He was insanely smart and completely capable of taking after his own ass. He was quick and cunning, much like a typical criminal. Only, Androw was better. Much better. Androw was so criminal he made men like Jasie Jones and Keegan Killer look lame. Androw was a guru when it came to the body. He knew every weak point. He could literally touch someone to death. And he could do so with little to no force. Perks of being a doctor, he supposed. He was a legal assassin. Top of his class, too. Worth more money than most could shell out. But, unlike an assassin who can only kill, Androw could also bring back. He could be the kiss of death or the breath of life.

Looking over his shoulder, he spied the small, dark space he crawled into. Honestly, he was surprised no one had thought to look there. But who would know to really look there. Who would know he was hiding in the mist of the murder and scene?

Blinking, his face moved forward to look over Tasi again. Grimace on his face, he stepped forward so he stood just inches from her. His head moved forward, aligning with her own face. His chin ever so gently graced her shoulder, which caused her to twitch -- nothing more or anything less, either.

"You should really look in the folder called 'Gilus.' He's your killer." A voice like a haughty man came from his pale, slender lips.

Tasi smiled and closed her eyes happily. "Wow, that's a great idea. Tha--" it then hit her. She wasn't alone. Eyes quickly shifting, she took in a cyan mess of hair and vivid, taunting eyes. Heart racing, she kicked back from the desk and let a scream burst from her lungs. Panicking, she dug her nails into the ground and tried to put as much space between her and this man who literally came out of nowhere.

The second her scream hit the air, Androw dropped to his knees and covered his ears. "Why the hell are you screaming," he tried to shout over her long-winded shrill for help. "My god," he said with grit teeth. Only, before he could speak again, the door kicked open and two (maybe more) people came in with guns drawn and tight, stern faces.

"It's rude to not know. Also, I really hate surprises," he mused before rolling his eyes. He went to stand but before he was given the chance, a weight was upon him. His nose, one with the ground, ached from the sharp pain that came to it. Lips on the floor and muffling his voice, he began his berating. "Miff ma mel m--- GET OFF!" he turned his lips just enough to let clear words surface.

A gun was still on him and trained to his every move. Looking up at the woman who he presumed to be in charge, Androw bore his unimpressed eyes into her. "Did you ever think that I might have been a victim AND witness to this whole shindig." He presumed there was a flicker of thought in I8a's mind regarding his words. "Well, why don't you get your cyborg off me so I can give my formal statement about how you're all incompetent assholes." Whoever this guy was, Androw, he had some nerve to not only berate them but to also go as far as to mislabel species. But who did he care, he was currently getting manhandled by another man who weighted at least twice as much as he (or so Androw presumed). At this point, it was safe to assume that Androw was peeved at the situation and wasn't too concerned about how bad it looked that he was 1) there and 2) happened to have some blood caked on the side of his face.

Last edited by Xavirne; 08-26-2015 at 12:21 PM..

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#12
Old 01-16-2015, 11:15 PM

I8a hasn't heard anyone, much less Tasi, scream like this for a long time, unless they were being murdered. So, although her breath and heart rate doesn't pick up, a white hot flash of something shoots down one of her mind's highways for tiniest fraction of second, something that she would have to analyze later when her engineer isn't in danger anymore. When she enters the scene, right behind Roscoe, with her gun already out, turquoise eyes immediately takes in the scene before her. The other woman seems unharmed, the scream that had clawed at Sath's ears finally dying down.

The other person, who seems to be stunned at the ungodly sound Radelle could produce (that should have been filed as official self defense weapon), crouched on the floor and she can't make out much of him, other than that it is male with peculiar hair color. "Galactic Law Enforcement, stand --" she begins her order that would have ended with "hands in the air", but Roscoe has already taken care of him, although not in means she would have necessary approved. In a flash, Nathan pushes stranger down and heavy knee between his shoulder blades keeps him there. I8a has sparred with her teammate, and although he always goes easy on her, he knows how much power and weight he can put in this move. Moments later, Roscoe has a firm grip on the man's wrists, he checks the guy for weapons quickly; if there is any, takes them away. Using this moment, her eyes dart over to Colctivus: "What happened here, Radelle? Are you alright?"

Then he yanks the possible culprit up unceremoniously. It's a death hold that he is in, really, no need for cuffs although those can enter equation any moment Issa deems them needed. Disregarding this cyan-haired huffball that is yammering away, he glances at Radelle. "Did he hurt you?" he asks as his Boss approaches. Apparently, she's been paying attention to the nonsense the guy's been spouting (he has too, in all honesty). Although perhaps not in the way he'd like to. As usually, she isn't bothered by threats or insults, it's not like anyone shot him. But he may as well have shot someone. He resists urge to kick him in back of the knee for calling them assholes, for calling Boss one. For now, he's not worth the trouble. If this continues, Roscoe will remind him to watch his language, though.

She looks at the two local Law Enforcement Officers behind them, the insult having flied by her. People have had said worse to her, coming from them it means nothing, it can't get to her. "Have you seen this man here before? Did he find the body, perhaps call LE?" Issa asks and, of course, receives negative replies. No surprise there. She decides to go about this the civilized route. "If this is a misunderstanding, I assure you, it will be smoothed out." But there won't be any formal statements, she'll make sure of that. If nothing more, he's probably been tampering with evidence that he could be charged with. That usually cools people down.

"Now, tell me your name and how did you happen to appear in middle of crime scene, with blood on you, scaring one of my team? How long have you been here?" Her tone is firm, she pulls out her phone, hold it out for a moment as it reads his features. In few minutes, they should have him identified, list of all crimes he has committed if any, his workplace, last known location and other very useful information. It's a nifty thing, really.

But this Sath is also old fashioned, she likes to draw her own conclusion and she looks him over calmly, trying to gather as much as she can from his appearance. Now rumpled suit, expensive one if she isn't mistaken (she isn't), face that indicates he isn't as young as his hair color would signal. Good built, works out most likely. So, someone's with power or likes to pretend he has it. Arrogant, too. Well, the rest scan will tell. She moves on, going to inspect his old hideout, hidden from sight very well by sliding panel in wall. They may not have thought of doing a scan of the place, since there already was one well protected room.

There, she finds another data bank, but that is all. Really, it is beyond her how the rather tall male had squeezed himself in there and it made him look all the guiltier. Unless someone had trapped him in there, but they'd find that out soon enough (hopefully). Some things would clear up when they figured out if the blood on him was his or not. But this was honestly becoming a messy case.

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#13
Old 01-17-2015, 12:10 AM

With a feral growl seizing his lips, Androw glared at the man who dared to hoist him from the ground. It was bad enough to be mounted, but this level of man-handling was a whole other issue. A part of him wanted to do something. Remain smug and angsty until this man, Roscoe, put him down. Honestly, handcuffs would be an upgrade at this point for the angle Roscoe held him at was rather painful. Any minute now, Androw was sure he would feel a sharp pain in his side and then the onslaught of a headache. Oh the joys of knowing too much about the human system!

Just as he's about to speak, Issa takes out a device and holds it to Androw. Piqued with curiosity, he keeps his mouth zipped, hopeful to know just what the system has on record for him. Sure enough, the information comes through and it all prove him to be anything but a criminal.

"Androw Daveth Galeron M.D., ex-military. Age thirty-seven. Male of the Earth species known as humans. Five-foot, eleven-inches. Suspected of murder. Victim named, Lilith Jefftron 21, girlfriend. No body found. Determined innocent by a jury of peers. Case remains unsolved and open. Currently jobless."

That smug look on his face fell to a look of insult and disgust. The pride he once held to his name and species was instantly gone the second the machine read out his past. "You have no right knowing that! Those files were sealed and all charges dropped! I'm innocent!" Spitting at Roscoe, he tried to escape but found it futile so he did the only thing he could do. Break his wrists.

With a quick jerk, his bones dislocated and Androw was free of Roscoe's iron grip. Although, in his freedom, he didn't move far. Instead he made a bee-line for the machine and pried it from Issa's hands, immediately after relocating his wrists. Disbelief still on his face, he gazed down his at his image. His face. His record.

The malice that once controlled him fled as if it never existed. Soft, broken eyes brought an uncanny look of youth to the surprisingly older male. As his eyes looked over the text and images, he felt a lump in his throat. It had been so long since he last saw her face. Since he last saw his Lilith. Water seemed to flood his eyes and his grip on the device tightened with each passing second. There were so many tears that needed to be shed but Androw couldn't allow this ragtag team of GLE officers to see his weaker side. No, he needed to hold steadfast to his strength and re-don that mask of security.

"The only reason I'm here is because this guy," he pointed to the body on the ground, "knew something about the man who killed Lilith. And I didn't kill him." Throwing the device at Issa, he turned away from the crew. Honestly, he wasn't sure Roscoe hadn't come back to attack him, but he figured the woman in charge called off her guard dog. After all, Androw was merely words and no real ill-actions. Perhaps she trusted him? No, that was a lie. His eyes saw the other agents with guns trained on him. She didn't trust him. She just didn't need to soil her hands with his existence. Clearly Roscoe didn't want to be bothered by it either, which lead Androw to believe that Roscoe had a temper that got out of hand from time to time. Why else would a guy back down from a fight? It usually meant that he didn't trust himself enough to stop.

"Anyway, like I told your two-tone friend, Gilus is the killer." Looking at the screen where Tasi once sat, he smirked. "And the only reason I'm alive is because your dead guy told me about the hole in the wall. He said I could find out about the man I'm after by looking at the data in there." Hands in his pockets, he exhaled calmly. He enjoyed taking his time and drawing things out. "And don't move that unit. It's rigged to blow."

Last edited by Xavirne; 03-17-2015 at 12:52 AM..

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#14
Old 01-17-2015, 12:23 AM

The speaker in her phone delivers calm, even cold, mechanical voice for all in the room to hear, it matches her impassive expression as she takes in the information. The gears are already spinning in Issa's head, piecing things together. Roscoe knows that from the way she's looking at the possible suspect. It's her trademark blank gaze that seems to see right through people, disregarding their social statuses, cover-up stories and more - all that means nothing to her. (His grip tightens for tiniest fraction when 'suspected of murder' line comes up.) He can't see Androw's face from this angle, but there is such rawness and intensity in the man's voice that he hasn't expected. Apparently it's distracting enough for him to miss the tell-tale twist of Galeron's wrists right before he breaks free. Nathan should have seen this coming, the summary had stated 'ex-military' after all.

How he manages to catch her off-guard, she doesn't know. Maybe she has put too much faith in Roscoe's skill to assure people stay where they're supposed to. If that is the issue, she'll make sure to amend it somehow. Sath moves to snatch her phone back from his hand, but her hand stops midair when she sees his face. I8a doesn't understand emotions, for her trying to comprehend what others feel is like watching television in language she doesn't know. But she's been out in the Galaxy for 5 years already, 3 of them as part of the large and mismatched GLE family. You pick up words, learn what they are associated with over such a time. And although emotions are probably the only aspect in Universe that she's slow at grasping, I8a has learned to recognize certain signs and what they mean.

And the signs on Galeron's face are those of a man on verge of breakdown. And that makes him dangerous. She motions her hand slightly in the dismissive manner he immediately recognizes as command. No need to make this more ugly than it has to be. But the other two officers still train their guns on him, they will until she tells them to stand down. For now, those words remain behind her closed lips. If they fired the shots, it would not be her responsibility. At least not entirely. "Mr. Galeron, calm down. I am Senior Agent in charge of Freelance Galaxy Law Enforcement Information Unit. I have rights and means to access even highly sensitive information," she offers as explanation, in an attempt to placate the man somewhat, showing her badge as proof. That his file certainly didn't fall in that highly sensitive category he doesn't need to know for now, but I8a might share that if the man continues to rant about it.

She has stopped Nathan just seconds before he apprehends Galeron again. He stands back, hand on gun in holster and takes in the situation, trying to piece together why she stopped him. The cyborg catches up quickly, noticing the look in the other man's eyes shortly before the arrogance mask slips in place. He has seen that look before far too many times. It makes people more unpredictable and that's why she left an option for them to keep their hands clean, if things go wrong. But the guy's not dumb, he knows what will happen is he loses his grip.

Roscoe thinks, I8a's mind is probably all straight lines and sharp turns, conjoined in perfect, efficient symmetry - a system of highways more than anything -, while Radelle's is like a crazy roller coaster ride, where the thrill of the moment and concept, novelty of it all overshadows surroundings and the destination doesn't matter as much. But on those highways of Boss' mind, there are no dinners with sign 'Best full Emotion and Motivation explanation course on E109!'. She sees the mix of emotions, but doesn't know it means that this man has a purpose and he won't do anything that would get in his way of accomplishing it. And getting shot or killed by GLE would surely do that. (Nathan would like to say he would just shoot him in leg or arm if the bastard hurt Boss, but he can't with full sincerity.)

But the arrogant mask is back in place and I8a catches the device with ease, unblinking. She places it back in pouch while Galeron continues to explain his reasons, drawing it out and using one of those lazily authoritative tones that she has never seen point of. Why should modulation of voice make her do something she normally wouldn't or make her more inclined to obey someone's orders? It's a strange thing, really. But it seems to work very well on most people of any race, so Sath has adopted it on some level. It shows in slight rise of volume in her speech, curt and straight to the point word choice, where in her heart she is inclined to pick more elegant forms of words, weaving them together in beautiful sentences.

"Stand down," she tells the other officers and they do, after short moment of hesitation. She is already looking up 'Giles' in her gadget filled phone, but there are few thousands of those in the database, so she'll need more than past name. "What is this about Giles, Radelle? If there's file in there, send it over to me as soon as possible. Do you think you can wrap this up quickly or you'll need to stay behind?" I8a looks at her engineer, then turns to the other person on her team, "check if the databank really is rigged." He nods slightly, in his 'on it, Boss' way, and moves towards hole. Meanwhile, her attention is again fully on the blue-haired man. "You will have to come with us in a moment to answer some questions, Mr. Galeron." There's no room for arguments, judging by her tone, although he may offer some. If so, she'll remind him that it's in his own best interests to come quietly.

"If anyone tries to move this or even access it, they get blown up in sky-high along with the databank. Some masterful work done here," Nathan tells her after quick scan, eyebrows slightly raised. "Either there's something important in there to protect, or it's a good trap, but then it could be false bait." It's the most he has said today, but cases usually make him more talkative, at least when they concern his field of work. "It's not false bait. They wouldn't go through the hassle of dragging it out of the other room and over here if it was. Easier to just transport fresh one in on one of the pads." Right, the marks on the floor.

"I can disarm it, but I need for everyone to clear out. I'll do it after Radelle is done with her part." He is standing next to her now, seemingly looking at the petite redhead, but he is aware of each move Galeron makes. "Are you sure we don't need bomb squad?" she inquires in a manner that only he can hear, as always concerned for her team's safety. Nathan's eyebrows shoot slightly higher at this, and he calmly tells her that he can handle this. Sath doesn't ask again, knows there is no point. Some arguments can't be won and he has never been wrong about these things before. If he changes his mind at any point, he will take the necessary steps. She has no reason to doubt his judgement.

I8a tells two local officers that they can let the coroner & forensics guy in and the cyborg uses the opportunity to move to Radelle's side. He took note of how she didn't say she was okay. Boss probably figured that since there seems to be no physical harm done, the other woman is fine, but she hasn't taken the scare into consideration. He has. Hopefully, their hacker won't have to stay behind on the crime scene now that forensics are arriving. She doesn't need the additional creepiness that the race usually taking up this job carry around them like thick, sticky smog. Rasthash is its name, tall and lanky with limbs too long and thin, their skin is sickly gray stretched over bones and features seem to consist mostly of bug-like eyes and large mouth that has no lips, hiding multiple rows of sharp teeth - remains of time when they fed off the flesh of others. Now their evolution has pushed them onto path of feeding off death. They don't have to kill, they gain energy from being around the dead, working with them and exploring every aspect of its cause. Murder with all its negative energy is a particular sweet treat for any Rasthash.

Roscoe isn't racist, but somehow, he can't banish the thought, the feeling, that many Rasthash actually don't stop with simply admiring kill. There is something about these beings that seems to step even on Boss' toes, perhaps their openly expressed ghoulish love for all things related to death and disrespect for dead. That's why she always makes sure forensics & coroner man in one person would arrive after they're mostly done with the scene and that's one decision Roscoe fully supports, although he has never voiced and doesn't plan to either. "Everything alright with you?" he asks Colctivus woman in his usual impassive tone, observing both her and 'Mr. Galeron' while Boss gathers last bits of information about first responder and anonymous tip that sent them here. (Tells them to not go near data bank and not let anyone else close, too.) They will be leaving soon, he'd prefer to stay with Radelle if she has to stay on scene, but most of his tools are back on the ship and he has to take the bagged evidence there, too.

Sure enough, not more than 5 minutes later, they are escorting Galeron guy back to Pincer. I8a walks on his left, while Nathan takes right. If Radelle is coming, too, he guesses she'll walk besides her friend or bounce ahead of them to the ship. It soon comes into view, masterfully 'parked' in tiny clearing near the warehouse. Their Boss doesn't bother with spaceports when they have caught a case in some obscure location that may as well be on the other side of planet from spaceport. The spacecraft is obviously an older model, but if it was to be judged by freshness of its paint and general level of maintenance, it may as well have been manufactured yesterday and taken out for its first spin. Otherwise so seemingly uncaring Sath doesn't accept anything untidy and ugly in her presence if she can help it. Once, she casually shared with Nathan that when the ship came in her possession, she painted it inside and out as well as repaired all by herself, because she didn't have the funds to hire anyone else to do it.

As bizarre it sounds, he caught her twice wielding paint sprays, cans and brushes during these 3 years, but after short discussion, I8a let him in on the action both times, although more unwillingly than it would make sense. He figured it was something about being able to do it on her own, honor or something of the sorts, but never asked. Same as he never asked how she came to own bounty hunter ship (it's easy to tell just by looking up the model name alone, if the large share of high-grade weapons, speed and stealth or holding cell aren't hints clear enough), but by little she has told he guesses it has to do something with the crew she used to work for. It may not be past her to work for hunters, since her morale view is strange in some ways. Despite his musings, he is also aware of anything Galeron might do, be it scratching his nose, shifting ever so slightly in uneasy manner or making a run for it. Roscoe wouldn't let him get very far, though, and perhaps I8a would surprise him with even faster reaction.

When they enter ship, the cyborg leads the other man into holding cell and shuts the doors behind him. After short contemplation, he decides to ask I8a to let him sit through the interview with her. It wouldn't be first time they did it together, wouldn't be the last time either. There was something about this ex-military man that made Roscoe cautiously curious. She agrees without second thought and so, he follows her in the holding cell that serves as interview room.
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#15
Old 03-17-2015, 01:27 AM

Her petty title did nothing for him. Big whoop, he told himself. So what if she had a fancy title and could flash a shiny badge. None of that meant jack shit if she couldn't close cases and solve the mystery at hand. And right now, from where Androw stood, she hardly seemed capable. Look at how easily he escaped her tank's hands. Had he wanted to do it, he could have killed this woman without flinching. They underestimated him and that was his upper-hand, his ace in the hole.

She tried to talk him down. Everyone always tried to talk him down, or back. He'd been on this side of the law before. They wanted answers. He had none to give. Or did he?

Brows knitting together, he blankly asserted himself to what happened around him. He needed to keep a keen eye on these folks. He wasn't an M.D. for nothing. He specialized in the art of humanity and life. He could detect the slightest weakness. He could taste fear. He trained for this. He trained to take out... Void.

As the woman in charge, Issa, spoke, Androw rolled his eyes. "Oh yes, let's just stand around and chitchat about how I'm right. You know, you people drive me crazy. You could already be onto the next clue but no, you would rather check up on things that I've already shared. Sure, I get it. You don't trust me. Fine, don't. But don't waste my time with looking up things I lived through. Things I saw. I have a monster to catch a woman to aven-"

The touchy-feely-let's-sit-on-people man spoke. That arrogant face of Androw's came back when Nathan spewed the obvious. "Duh." He shrugged before waving the crew off. "Wait, I forgot, I'm the suspect. Can't trust me. Must investigate everything and, yes, waste time."

Honestly, Androw didn't care if he came across hostile. He was livid that he had been tackled to the ground. Furthermore, his back-story was flashed before everyone, even the lowly officers not of Issa's squad. It was ever-so-peachy to know the world knew his secret, the secret that was supposed to be locked away.

Eyes adverting, he stared at the two-tone woman. She seemed to be snickering. Were his antics funny? Amusing? Either way, it didn't matter. Unlike these other two stiffs, she seemed more... well, human. He might be able to reason with her. Might be able to get her on his side.

Unable to finish his plot to convert Nastasiya, he was pulled back into the conversation.

"Bomb squad," his lips parted dramatically and gagged. Oi, talk about wasting money! No wonder intergalactic taxes were so high! These morons just wasted dollars after dollars on futile, pointless things. Sure, data was behind that wall but who needed that data when they could just follow the clues Androw so kindly laid out. Why, he might as well draw a picture of them. They were utterly daft and impossible to reason with.

Getting ready to leave, he found himself unable to. Eyes narrowing, a snarl came to his lips. Were they really "escorting" him to the ship.

Bullshit. More like forcefully moving him along. And dare he resist, he would likely be tased or cuffed, neither one pleasing nor warranting his energy.

Obediently, reluctantly, he followed. Eyes catching first glimpse of the ship, he tried not to laugh. Stifling it just enough, it sounded like a sneeze-hiccup. Or at least that's what Nastasiya must have heard because she said "Bless you." Odd thing to hear from one not of his own species, but the notion was nice.

(Speaking of Nastasiya , she did as Issa asked and left the building with the others; no point in dying sooner than necessary!)

"Uh, thanks." It was good to engage her. She clearly had an interest in him and, unlike these other two, knew something about humans -- even if only minimal.

And then, must to Androw's disbelief, he was booked. Trying not to let the veins in his forehead pop, he calmly took a seat in a chair and glared hostilely at the two that soon joined him. Arms placed neatly off to their sides (he wanted to show that he had nothing to hide so he kept his posture open and honest), he blinked at them. Face void and null of all expressions, he finally quipped a grin.

"Wow, this is some interrogation tactic. If you're not going to ask questions, I'm going to take a nap. I've had enough boredom for one day."


His smile, though devious, had something very handsome about it. Although simply human, Androw's features were far from ugly. In fact, one might even say he was in the top 10% for looks of his race. He had aged well and his sassy, cocky mannerisms were oh-so-perfect for him.

"On second thought," he began, "I might talk if I can get some water." He rasped, dramatically as expected. "And a burger." His brow perked. "You do know what burgers are.... right?"

Yes, it had begun. The mind games of Androw.

"Okay, okay. So, let's just do a quickie rundown. You two think I'm the one behind this. I'm not, but let's just run with it. When you do decide to book me, it won't hold. I'll be able to get myself out of the hot-seat and you'll be empty handed and without a lead. Me? Heh, I'm holding more cards. I know who your killer is, I know why they silenced your now-corpse, and I know where they're going next. I know the mastermind behind it all. But hey, if you want to keep those suspicious eyes trained on me and book me, go for it. It won't help your case any. Why, I bet I would be able to solve this mystery faster than your whole crew -- and whilst in jail!" He scoffed at his own joke. "But hey, I'm a fun man. Why not make things interesting and fun. Since you clearly need me, why not bring me on board. You haven't a medic from the look of things. And, let's be honest, I could use the money. I haven't been working for three years and my reserve if running out."

Sitting back in the chair, he put is feet on the table and leaned back. "Can't pay a 'criminal?' Fine, I'll take free room, board, and food. But," the chair skidding across the floor and his body flung across the table to look Issa dead in the eye. Just inches from her face, he smirked. "But I get to do what I want. I'm not of the law so I get to play with the law my own way. And if I break it, you fix it." His lips were so close that his breathe kissed her face and his cologne wafted into her air.

Folding back into his chair, he wrapped his arms around the chair's top. "So, whatcha say? Have we a deal, darling?"
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#16
Old 03-17-2015, 10:42 PM

Some people would take the bait of Androw's words, at least feel irritation rise in them like bile. But Issa is not your typical person and despite blue haired human's arrogant attitude, she remains calm; indifferent to anything besides getting to the truth. Nathan, too, believes that dogs may bark, but caravan moves forward. Just because this guy believes they are incompetent does not mean they truly are. Any scumbag believes that about cop-sort anyway.

So, they let him finish without interruption, let him vent his frustration. Nathan has linked his fingers together, resting hands on table and stares at the man, while Issa sits in her typical stiff, ladylike pose. The way she blinks maybe just once through all his speech, very possibly ever since they entered the room, could creep some people out. Now that Androw has finished, she blinks again. "It appears to me we have started off the wrong foot, Mr. Galeron. Let us start over, shall we? I am Senior Agent Issa Serthumon and this is Agent Nathan Roscoe." She looks at her companion briefly, then back at the man on other side of table.

"We are not booking you or accusing you; these assumptions are all yours. We merely would like to ask you few questions as a witness and if you can indeed provide us the information you claim to have, it will be put to use. In that case, I will also forward your request to join Freelance Units to my superiors, but my Unit is not looking to hire right now." At this moment, Nathan feels his pad buzz, the rhythm already telling him that it is important. Issa feels the slight shift and looks at the man. "I have to take this call, will return to crime scene after," he tells her simply and stands up, exiting the cell moments after, door sliding shut behind him with soft hiss. They do not need to talk much, especially in moments like these. He knows she has got this, and he can watch the videos after. This pair has a well oiled routine and just like she predicts, he brings in glass and bottled water before he leaves the ship.

The pad she has placed on table is recording the conversation, just like various devices hidden around the room, and gives her free access to any information she might need. "Please, start from the beginning, Mr. Galeron. Why were you at the crime scene, what did you see?" At this she either lets him talk, or, if she saw that the road will be as rocky as before, immediately continued: "what is your insight on the killer and motives you say you have?" Now that she talked more, the lilting accent to her Basic is even more evident. Not that it is anything she tried to hide, actually, but it often made others wonder about her origin more.

In all honesty, she is not entirely sure under what label to place this man. His attitude is worse than that of many criminals she has dealt with, he tries to mock her like with what she has discovered are called 'pet names', often demeaning, yet if he is not one himself, he appears to 'despise' the ones involved in this crime and perhaps indeed knows something they don't. If it is so, she will get that information out of him.

Meanwhile, Nathan is already on his way back to crime scene. The call had been exactly what he... Well, not feared or dreaded, but had not been looking forward to for sure. But he would deal with that later. Right now, there was a job to do and one that required his concentration. It wouldn't take him long to be fully engrossed into the explosive device, finding disturbingly much information out of it - when it was placed, what was used to make it, who had access to such materials and had purchased more of them recently and so on. And all of that in rather short time.

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#17
Old 05-07-2015, 02:23 PM

Taking note of their names and positions, Androw filed this into his records for later use. The tough guy worked for the stiff woman, interesting. This was key though for he knew who to address moving forward. Granted, he assumed it was the woman but now it was solidified with proof.

She went on about how he was taking this all wrong. Rolling his eyes behind his fringe, he couldn't help but smirk. All these agents were the same. They thought themselves dignified and perfect. In reality, they were all the same. They were arrogant pricks.

To his relief, the tough guy left the room. Sadly, this absence didn't lift her mood. Was she always this up-tight? Yes, of course. She was the "Senior Agent." She clearly didn't get that rank by being friendly or a push-over. Or for showing off cleavage.

"Androw is just fine," he cut in. "Galeron is my professional name. Prefer you not use it unless I'm dissecting someone or doing a make-shift sling." He paused for a second, recalling how in his past officers would still refuse to use his first name. "And if protocol forbids it, then Gale works just fine."

As she hardly seemed like the type to deviate from topic at hand, he sighed before leaning back on the chair.

"Gilus. He's your killer, like I mentioned earlier." Be blinked, slowly. "Let me back up and answer your other question. Back in my youth, I was set to marry the most perfect woman. She was everything to me. We were so in love, surrounded by peerless bliss. All was supposed to be magical, perfect."

"But that never happened. She was ripped from me."

His face lost its color and his body shifted forward over the table. Eyes focused on the table, he smirked. "Lilith Jefftron, twenty-one. It was an accident, or so the report says. It's wrong though. Sven Void and the Prophet were there. They took her from me. They ruined my life. They're still ruining it. Ever since I lost her, I've committed everything to finding Sven and the Prophet."

His eyes finally looked up to meet Issa. "If you want the details of her death, you can read them. I don't want to relive that mindfuck again."

Rolling back into his chair, he turned his head toward the exit. "I've been investigating Lilith's murder. Thus far, I've only found empty leads. Nothing seems to fit or work. Everything always runs dry. And then, one day, I happened upon this story that spoke of a lab and man with a dark past."

"Your dead guy. I sent him a message asking to meet. It was a tedious process. Had to do some of those old-fashioned window washer ads in a penny saver to get his attention. A few ads back and forth and he gave me his location. Agreed to meet with me to talk about Gilus."

Knowing she knew nothing about Gilus, he continued.

"Let's just say I found a link between Gilus and Sven Void. Gilus used to a be a merchant for Void and his boys. He helped Void get his pack of mercenaries and always helped raid and loot."

He went to check his pocket for his journal, but realized it was missing. "Your officer must have taken my small, black, leather notebook. It has my notes in there. Spit-balling off the top of my head, I can tell you that Gilus is the reason the SX3 went missing. You know, that fancy federal ship. Just vanished one day without warning. And then, years later, someone happened upon it. It wasn't a freak incident. It was Void."

Fingers interlacing, he moved forward again. "Void's after something. His Prophet spoke of a weapon that could change it all. That federal ship... it had a beta-type tracker on it. I bet Void wanted that ship so he had Gilus lure it out of the safe space waves and into a trap."

With a sigh, he looked at the woman before him. "But I've no proof of all this. Unlike you, I'm not a man of the law. All this information is from witness, some not entirely credible, and the rest is my own intuition and gut impression." With a laugh, he joked about the SX3. "Let's be honest, if the galaxy knew what happened to SX3, they wouldn't tell us. But they don't know. So there's no coverup story. There's absolutely nothing. The information I've gathered seemed plausible. But I won't know for sure until I find Gilus."

"Which brings us back to the here and now. Your DB had records on Gilus. Guess Gilus had a spill-man. Someone he had to confess his sins to or somethin'. That DB was the man. He recorded everything. Pretty sure he was a psych or something. His notes were thorough. Or at least what I could get my hands on were good."

He sniffled before rubbing a finder below his nose and scoffing. "Before I could really dive in and get the juicy bits, all hell broke loose. The DB said I had to tell no one of what I saw. He flashed some images before my eyes and the next thing I know, your two-tone woman is screaming in my ears."

Androw waved a hand toward Issa. "Mind handing me that paper and pen? I might be able to sketch out the image I saw before he dumped the data." As he did that, he caught a glimpse of the time.

Six numbers appeared in his mind. Six numbers that were oddly close to the time.

Just then, Androw jumped to his feet. "Call your man back." Eyes wide, the hair on the back of his neck rose. "Call him back before he comes back in a body bag."

"03:57:11." Those are the numbers I saw before I was shoved in the wall. "I also saw a mangle of other things. But none of those other things matter now."

At the door, he glanced back at Issa. "Your agent only has minutes to get out before the whole place blows! Let's get a move on before you make me mock you for losing a man, further proving your an incompetent agent!"
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#18
Old 06-08-2015, 07:17 PM

Issa doesn't understand the human need to share everything about them and their past in few minutes. It is especially spurred by stressful situations and the fact she has to ask a lot of questions to the witnesses and possible criminals. Yet, the amount of information humans share willingly and easily about their past and feelings, while feeling deeply offended if one makes a guess or asks why things were exactly so, is staggering and often completely useless.

Still, she listens. Not only it may help her understand this strange man (perhaps with help of Roscoe, watching the recordings later), but he may accidentally spill something important. She is good at paying attention to details, even they are the very technical ones, not the tones and gestures and whatnot. When Galerow gets past the backstory of his lost love, it does get interesting, though.

Void and his gang, the terror of more than few dozen star systems, has been a growing threat. One she has been tasked to eliminate. Well, volunteer-tasked. So far, all her team had found were dead ends no bashing or clever attempt of climbing over could defeat. Could it be that this man had really discovered a link they had not? Issa did not claim to be all knowing, so it was very possible. If she could bring in Void, Prophet and his gang, return SX3... Galaxy would become a much safer place. And her thirst for a tough intellectual challenge solved also satisfied for a while. So, she lets him speak without interruption.

At Androw's request for pen and paper, she slides a smaller pad towards him, but it is apparently unneeded as the man jumps up, sudden urgency and irritation about him like a thick smoke. Even Issa understands that much. And as he continues to speak, her eyes widen just a fraction. If it was truth, Roscoe did not have much time left. If it wasn't... Her agent can return and finish his mission later. There was no need to put his life in danger. Her hand goes to the earpiece, pressing ever so slightly.

"Roscoe, leave the crime scene immediately," she tells him, voice even despite the situation - perhaps because she trusts no harm will come to him. "Boss, it is rigged to blow at certain time. I don't know how much time I have left yet, so I rather not waste it," he responds after a split second of silence. Having so many technical tidbits fully or partially built in him has its merit. "Exactly." Issa's one word is all that is needed to send the man packing.

Once upon a time, human athletes would have turned green with envy, seeing how fast the ex-military man gathered his tools and belongings and left the scene, dragging the two enforcers along because they stared dumbly after his order to leave the area. The Rasthash has already left with the body. In the short time, Issa also has left the interrogation room, standing at the entrance of the ship, eyes focused on the building in the distance. She doesn't even wince when, with a thundering noise, flames consume the construction, although her frozen-like image is ruined by the sharp cough, wrecking her whole body, caused by the many particles of building's remains and smells entering her sensitive nose and throat.

"On my way back, Boss," Roscoe informs her and although she wouldn't admit it, doesn't even really recognize it at this point, there is flare of light somewhere in her chest, what humans would call relief. Even in her unwavering belief in his abilities, it is good to know he made it out and far enough. "Good," she tells him simply, when she soon regains full control over her body, and then the sath woman turns to the man that warned her. "We will not hold you against your will, Mr. Galerow, but if you wish to aid the investigation, it would be helpful if you traveled with us for the course of this investigation or kept in close contact."

If he refuses, she will not be surprised (the same if he agrees), but what Androw won't need to know is that he will be kept a close eye on anyway. They cannot lose such a great potential thread, if what he told is so. Moments later, Roscoe finally reaches the ship, looking a little worse for the wear - having shielded the two enforcers from the blast - but otherwise all in one piece. "We have one empty crew cabin," she adds, in case Galerow wonders if he'd be forced to stay in the interrogation room/cell.

When everything is arranged with the possible-criminal-turned-witness-and-help, one way or another, it is time for Issa to visit Radelle, see what the woman has discovered about this Gilus and from the data she copied. Although some potentially great information was lost in the explosion, the loss was minimized due to the back up of the other data banks. So, soon, Roscoe (having hit the fresher and put on clothes that haven't been touched by explosion wave) and his Boss are sitting in her room, playing Chess.

It is more than a game of wits and strategy for the two of them, during matches they discuss cases and events of the Galaxy, besides it is no regular chess either - spanning across three levels, it has evolved beyond any regular difficulty. Issa's superior memory, increased logic skills and knowledge of ancient chess world class master moves versus Roscoe's also great memory and superb strategical thinking makes for an impressive duel of minds. The games often last for weeks or the whole solving of the case, even if the human always loses in the end, but he never feels offended or annoyed.

"So far, everything he said appears to be truth," Issa says. "It is not likely he actually killed the man," Roscoe agrees. "Unless he actually arranged all of this," the woman continues. "He would have to be a very convincing liar, which I am sure he is, but how does it help him achieve his goal; revenge?" Nathan wonders out loud. The walls are thick, no one would be able to eavesdrop, and if anyone were to barge in, they could stop the discussion. "As a murder suspect, even with cleared name, no one would believe his words, so, this may be an attempt to get into GLEFL," sath reasons.

"It'd be a risky play, he couldn't know a team with the case would arrive to work on this." It's not even argument, Nathan is simply exploring every possibly angle, knowing that Issa probably has it covered already. "He could always ask to be transferred. And he would still have access to valuable sources." "Perhaps he isn't even chasing after the Void, but works for him and is looking for someone the pirate wants to kill. But he does have a passion motive." To this, Issa only nods, unable to argue such statements and simply trusting man's word on this, and they continue to play in silence for a while more, as the ship speeds through the space, destination already set into the auto pilot. Whatever and whoever Androw Galerow is, they will knack him when the time comes.
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#19
Old 06-08-2015, 08:02 PM

Much to his liking, the man with cyan hair witnessed Issa call back her man (even if the words were quite cryptic). Despite this distrust in her and the team, Androw simply returned to his chair while the woman left the room. There was no need to cause further ruckus, especially during dire situations such as this.

While she was away, he laced his hands together and gazed over the paper and pen she left for him. It was useless to try to escape with such primitive tools--not to mention, being in here meant not being in an explosion--so he remained put. Pen between his hands, he began to doodle ever so lightly. The face, though shaded with ink, seemed to have a crisp and clear outline. Eyes closing momentarily, Androw bit his lip to ponder a final detail. When the "ah-ha" moment came, his orbs opened and he finalized the missing detail.

Pulling the image back, Androw grunted at his work. It is flawless, save for the fact that the face is a shadowy mess. So flawless that Androw tore it into pieces and pouted while tears swelled in his eyes.

"Sven," he spat. A faint noise, likely the explosion, shook the ship much like a mouse shakes the floor it walks on. It's so nonexistent and yet, Androw senses it. Eyes adverted, he grimaced while looking toward the camera. Hopefully this intel was spot on and saved that miserable man's life--not to mention the rest of the retrieval crew.

When the door opened and Issa returned, Androw's all ears. Leaning forward, his eyes followed the woman like a lost puppy, waiting for any word of news to roll from her lips.

Sadly, he received no satisfaction. Granted, the invitation to stay with the crew boded well with him. It meant he proved his worth, or so he assumed.

Before he can even utter a word or ask for more details, she's gone. Baffled at her lack of concern over him, Androw retreated into his seat and scanned the room for his drawing. Although in shreds, he craftily put each piece back together. If he had tape, he would have likely taped it together, but this was not an option at the time. Instead, he simply gazed down at it and glared. Pen in hand, he snarled before shoving the could-be weapon right into the middle of the drawing. "Let's see how well you hid your crumbs, Sven. I've an invitation I cannot refuse--one that might finally bring the closure I so rightfully deserve."

With that, the cyan-haired man rose and moved from the room. Along the way, he passed a few other ship workers and asked them for directions. Naturally, they were overjoyed and extremely helpful. It made Androw wonder just how often--if at all--Issa invited a stranger to live amongst her crew. Realizing how she was likely putting her neck on the line for him, the human decided to play it low and keep out of her way. Still, the two-tone woman had information he wanted so he needed to hunt her down.

Working his way around the ship, the man with the Leo personality finally found his way toward the woman. Only, along the way, he happened upon Issa and Nathan playing a very interesting version of chess. Piqued, he quizzically tilted his head back and forth, instantly realizing how to play the game.

"Did you call check?" he asked rhetorically for he assumed Issa knew Nathan was nearly locked down. "Odds aren't really in your favor," he threw his voice toward Nathan, "but you could beat her if she fumbles during the next three moves."

Not wanting to interrupt further, he gazed past the pair and spied the female he sought. "Miss," he brushed against the wall and moved to Tasi. "Sorry about early." Hand in his hair, he sheepishly laughed. "Sometimes I forget my manners." Hand now out of his hair, he extended it forward to meet the hand of Radelle. "Androw Gale-"

"Silly, human." She giggled while drawing him into a full-on embrace, "I already looked you up. I also decided henceforth you'll be my adorable little Galey-poo." Pinching his cheek, the woman winked over toward Issa and Nathan.

"WHAT?!" Hissing and pulling back, Androw blinked at the woman as if she had fifteen heads. "I refuse to be called such petty names!"

"Hmmm," she scratched her chin in a human-like manner. "How about Gale-kun."

"I'm not Japanese," he said out of annoyance.

"But Androw is so boring! And since you're human and humanity has Japanese members amongst its species, Gale-kun is totally acceptable!"

"Andy works just fine," he mused.

"Nope, Gale-kun!"
Jaw firm and eyes forward, she more or less forced Androw into accepting the name.

With a sigh and eye role, he caved. "Fine, fine. Gale-kun it is. Still don't know you're name thou-" Again, he's cut off and interrupted by hugging.

"I'm Tasi-chan!" She let out a joyous squee. "And we're going to become the best of friends; mainly because I've always wanted to meet a human!"

"You're kidding," Androw mocks sarcastically. "Because humans are oh-so-special," he quipped in an even more sarcastic tone.

"You have blue hair. I think you're pretty special."

"I dye it."


"Die?"
Brows furrowed, she turned to Issa for explanation. "Why did your hair die?"

"Not the die, die. That die is spelled d-i-e. D-y-e is a product used to color things such as skin, hair, or clothing. So I d-y-ed my hair this color. It's definitely not natural. It’s supposed to be black but...." He grimaced and looked away. “Yeah.”

Even though the two had only just met, it was evident that the two had no qualms with one another. Funny how things turn out. Despite hating the GLE, Androw certainly enjoyed one of its members, cheeky or not, she was still an agent.

"Anyway, Tasi-chan," Androw cleared his throat before stepping closer to the woman, "would you mind showing me the data you received? I've a book," his gaze scanned over to Nathan. Narrowing his lids, he glared, quickly, before turning back to Tasi-chan. "I was hoping to compare notes and see if your data matched any of mine. Might give us a clue toward our next step."

Not even thinking about clearance levels, she pulled up the screen and was 100-percent ready to comply with whatever Androw requested. If she were in the wrong, Nathan or Issa would be sure to bark at her any second now!
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#20
Old 06-08-2015, 09:14 PM

Androw would find that in the spare room, there were already all bags that he might have in hotel room of the planet they just departed from or other some such belonging. How and when it had been delivered would remain a mystery until he asked Issa about it. Who, in the meantime of his wanderings, had moved her chess session with Nathan to the reclining area on the lower deck, while Roscoe multi-tasked between preparing meal for the crew and continuing the match. Of course, all the conversations about the case had been left in the captain's cabin and now they played in silence. At least, until Androw arrived.

"In three turns," she replies automatically, not even hiding the plans. When the witness-help turned his attention to Nathan, he simply states: "She won't. That Issa would win couldn't even be questioned, it is simple fact, rule of life aboard Pincer. For the man, it is just one of the threads that make his life at least somewhat stable, like a known, old worn shirt. If he thought about it, it was really amazing how quickly he had gotten used to the way things were in Issa's team and now he'd die defending that order. What he didn't know was how this new presence on the ship would turn everything upside down and with time, he'd grow to accept and even like that as well.

When Androw starts to speak with Tasi, the other two automatically tune in. It isn't that they are eavesdropping - after all, the other two aren't being particularly quiet either - so when the colctivus woman claims to have always wanted to meet human, Issa steps in: "Roscoe is human." In her culture, it is completely proper to correct someone who is mistaken or forgetful right away in middle of conversation, so it doesn't occur to her she might be rude.

Quickly, she is actually pulled into the conversation, with Tasi's questions about dyes. "Dyes are substances that change color of what they are applied to. Humans and other cultures have used them since ancient times, dyeing items, fabrics and parts of themselves, like tattoos, first human use of dyes are known to be 37500 years Before Pact. At first, human hair dyes in particular were made of various plants, like henna, other races have used crystal dust and other matter. Now, there are many types of dyes, many, especially the permanent ones, are destructible to the hair structure because if often destroys the natural pigmentation in the hair and the excessive exposure to chemical traumatizes the whole hair, making it dry and frail; prone to breaking. Still, people chose to use them for aesthetic purposes and now there are dyes that even change color depending on the light or pigments that constantly reflect light in a way they create illusion of rainbow colored hair."

She would probably continue, striking more despair in heart of her crew and Androw, if three turns had not been passed and she didn't need to claim Check Mate in her game with Nathan. The vast amount of knowledge about countless things their captain possessed still sometimes surprises the human soldier, but he also sometimes wished she would not be prone to be sharing all of it at any given moment. This had to be just a tiny fraction of her knowledge on dyes and it was already more than enough in his opinion. Then again, how Radelle had not learned the term 'dye' yet was beyond him. He chose not to comment the 'chan' and 'kun' matter, and not having him considered human, even mentally because it was ridiculous and not worth thinking about. ... Mission failed.

However, they were saved from further lectures on dyes due to Galerow's interest in comparing the data. Since the session had ended, much faster than usually, too (Nathan blamed the fact one of his ears was still ringing from the explosion), part of Issa's attention was completely free and there is nothing more she likes to occupy herself than processing information. "Excellent idea, I would like to browse the data as well," she stated, nearly sounding slightly less monotone than usually.

Although there were some clearance issues, this would be a good way to see Galerow's information in its purest form and what he truly had, before he had a chance to add anything from their sources and she could always have Tasi - Radelle - skip over some high security files. So, she joined the pair, ready to work.

Nathan on the other hand, carried the chess set back to the captain's cabin and proceeded to finish making the meal. It was not that they always didn't just order some sort of take outs or used some of the instant-prepared meals they had stocked up, but the produce from the planet they had visited was always good, so, Issa and him had decided to stock up on some before they even landed and let the delivery deal with it. It wasn't that Roscoe was the designed cook of the crew, he and Issa took turns and even Tasi pitched in sometimes, but it was unspoken fact his was the most enjoyable food of all, as Issa's was nearly tasteless and Tasi's cooking was as eccentric as she was herself. Well, of course, each lady could think that her food was the best, for all he knew, but somehow, he still ended up cooking most often.

As the three proceeded to compare the notes, Nathan noted that the new comer and Issa soon formed... Nearly a sort of competition who would notice similarities or important differences sooner, although, of course sath woman wasn't particularly passionate about it, but she certainly didn't let the other make the note first if she had seen it first. Personally, he was more interested in how extensive Androw's information was and how sometimes, he had gotten a step further before hitting dead end like they had, but sometimes the team had gotten just a bit further.
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#21
Old 06-09-2015, 05:16 PM

"Oh yeah," said Tasi while turning a loose strand of hair. "Sometimes I forget he's human. I don't know why, but I always envision humans to look like Gale-kun. You know, average, freaky, opinionated. Nathan's just... hunky, muscles, reserved. Not my definition of human."

Giving Tasi a dull face, Androw snapped his head away and turned his nose to the air. "Average, freaky, opinionated. And here I thought I was special." Eyes opening, he looked at the girl who was now bashfully hiding her face.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way," she began but didn't have to finish as everyone's attention turned toward the case. Not wanting to feel the heat of being wrong, she immediately pulled open the laptop and started to scroll through the info.

"Anything looking familiar." Using the screen as a mirror, she checked behind her. Androw had vanished, likely getting his notebook. He wasn't gone long so she saw no need to talk to Issa about anything.

Now back with the group, Androw paged into his notes and eventually stopped on one. "That, that right there," he said while Tasi scrolled. "Go back to that entry." She scrolled up and stopped. "This one?"

"Yeah, that's the one," Androw flipped open his book and set it down so both females could see. "I still have no idea what those set of numbers mean, but I have them written down. I've ruled out coordinates, dates, phone numbers, a letter-number cipher. I even tried seeing if it related to chemical compounds or prescription numbers." He gazed over at Issa. "Remember, I'm a doctor so I have access to all that jazz. Even did a cadaver identification test, as well as ran social security numbers."

Tasi, impressed but not convinced, ran the numbers in her databases but also came up blank. "Yup, I'm not getting anything either. Are you sure they're not just random? And completely useless?"

"The fact that these same numbers have appeared again leads me to believe otherwise. I can't help but wonder if it's part of a code. Like location-time-person. The problem is, I don't know the order and I could spend the rest of my life trying to decipher these numbers." He let out a sign before taking a seat on the arm of the chair Tasi sat in. "Keep scrolling. Maybe something else will get a cross-reference."

There were a few times Issa and Androw went at it, over who got the intel first, but ultimately they seemed to agree that the same notes were worth flagging. Tasi printed them off and Androw eventually moved to tack them to the case board he decided to make.

"Okay," he said while putting the back-end of a marker in his mouth, "we know we've had Void sitings on these planets." He circled about seven planets. "And we know there are some bodies involved." He tacked up the pictures and related notes. "Personally, I'm interested in heading here," he tapped on a bluish looking planet. "Those numbers were found here, as well as an unidentifiable body. I also have a broker in this area that claims he can get me some info. Since I've never had clearance to go here, I could never visit. But," he turned around with marker back in his mouth, "mow mat mi'm miff moo muys, mi man minmestmimate mit."

"Oh really," Tasi laughed. "You can 'minmestmimate' it?"

"Mut mup," he said before capping the marker. "So whaddya say, SA Serthumon?"

Last edited by Xavirne; 08-26-2015 at 12:39 PM..

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#22
Old 08-25-2015, 04:47 PM

"A physical case board is rather outdated method," Issa comments, but from her tone it's impossible to tell if she likes or dislikes the idea. She's probably neutral on it, until she outweighs all the up and downsides of it, rarely taking side of anything until she's absolutely sure. In all honesty, the strange woman is more preoccupied with the numbers that Androw had brought up. They most definitely were a code and there was something, faintly itching, inside her, urging sath to crack it, despite the impossible odds.

Nathan looks over his shoulder, brows slightly furrowed: "Technically, it could be safer than virtual one if we are dealing with high scale hackers although so far we've had no safety compromises." He really only cares that he will need to screw the board down and preferable somewhere on second floor so if anyone came in, they wouldn't immediately see it and it wouldn't easily fall over during jumping to hyperspeed or some tricky maneuvers. By now, the blue-haired man has continued pressing on and explaining what he thinks is the right course of action. Issa is still unphased.

"My primary case is not the Void right not, but the John Doe from this morning. The connection between them is not yet proven. If I am to be sidetracked, I should contact my superiors." At this point, her data pad blips and she brings it out, slender fingers sliding over the screen and revealing information. "Autopsy report arrived," she tells the crew, already half through it. The man is still unidentified, no fingerprints (artificially removed, nothing surprising there in this day and age), of course died from the blast to heart. What catches her attention is that the Rasthash confirms Galerow's opinion that the man was psychic. They usually have a peculiar sensors in brains, among few other tell-tale signs that can usually be detected only once they are dead. In few brief words, she retells it to the crew as she sends copies of it to their data pads.

Her turquoise eyes then rise up to stare at suspect-turned-informant in a way it would make most uncomfortable. She's silent for a bit, as Nathan sets down plates. "All right, we shall visit your informant, see if he knows anything about Gilus or John Doe." The woman then turns to her tech expert: "continue the good job with information from data banks." With that, she leaves to head upstairs, presumably to contact this superior officer and change the course of ship.

Nathan guessed that she will not return for dinner, not needing food as much as most other people, but does not put her plate away just yet. Instead, he takes his seat and digs in the food. It's not bad, if he is to blow his own horn. The male feels familiar pull of entering hyper lane as they race toward the new destination and wonders briefly just what they have gotten themselves into. Or what this Androw Galerow has gotten them into.




It was much later that Issa came back to dining area, moving around without even looking up as she was engrossed in something that she was reading on the data pad. Sitting down to the meal that had long since grown cold, she ate it slowly, seemingly ignoring how bland it tasted now. After all, it didn't matter if the food was or was not delicious. The sath did have a weakness for some sweets and corners of her moth slightly quirked up when she noticed a small packet with candies placed by her plate.

Opening it cautiously so not a single tiny, sweet bead didn't fall way, she popped few in mouth after she had finished her dinner. It was one of those little gestures Nathan did, never speaking of them, that they could have as well been done by a ghost. Finally pausing her reading for a longer moment, Issa cleaned up her plate and set to return to her room, unless someone interrupted.




Early next morning, the ship exited hyperlane, still having few hours of flight worth to reach the planet-side. The crew gathered downstairs to eat breakfast, the captain and her right hand man quiet as always. Issa inquired if Radelle had managed to decipher any of the information and they discussed few other case related details. Today, sath wore a black top with more half-transparent lace than anything else and long, black coat. The pants that fit tightly on her legs were also black, with few belt accessories and pockets, while her feet were clad in black boots with belts as well. Her hair was perfect, not a single one out of place, as always. She didn't seem to be bothered by the fact a good deal of her cleavage was revealed, even if their guest ended up looking at it. Nathan, of course, did not.

"Are you well rested?" she inquired, turning her attention to Androw. It didn't seem she was set on small talk, but she would ask this much. If conversation didn't become more lively and died then, the crew would split up with Nathan and Issa moving on to inspect the physical evidence, until Issa had to go to cockpit to land the ship.

Last edited by sadrain; 08-25-2015 at 06:58 PM..

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#23
Old 08-25-2015, 07:55 PM

"Androw's been a great help," Tasi began with a grin. "He stayed up rather late with me to go over this data. I know we don't need a medic on-board, but his knowledge of bodies is something I'll grow to miss, should he not become a permanent member of this team."

She swung her data-pad around and pointed to a few little dots on the body. "Apparently these are treatment points. Androw deduced that our John Doe suffered from Cordanervectum. It's a less than common ailment that shuts down the heart by killing off the nervous system."

Androw, without a bat of eye, picked up where Tasi began to struggle. "About 15-percent of the population have this disease. And of those 15-percent, only 8-percent can afford the treatment for it. It's a series of injections over the course of a lifetime. The needles uses as so small that the eye cannot tell it from a freckle. Our John Doe had plenty of freckles on his upper arms and shoulders, but nowhere else."

He readjusted how he sat in his chair. Swinging it around, he sat on it backwards so that his legs were sprawled out to either side of the back. "I pulled up my database. Tasi wrote an algorithm that will check our notes to the notes of the people being treated."

She two-tone woman flashed a smile. "See, I told you he was brilliant. And the best part? I don't need to get permission to access that database. Andy here can just access it without restraint. Suppose that's a perk of being a top-notch doc." Her arms slid beneath her breasts. "Personally, I would love to see how extensive his knowledge of the body is. You know, first hand." The way she battered her lashes and pursed her lips seemed to caused Androw to smirk. "Helps that he's good on the eyes, too," she cooed.

"Anyway, 8-percent of 20-percent is no small number. We made the algorithm thorough. It'll probably be a few days before we get a hit. I can pull dental records when it looks like we've got something just to match the bite."

"I'm already runni," Tasi cut herself off. Androw was right. She was scanning millions upon millions of people. His list would be smaller, quicker, and more accurate. "Good idea. No need to waste bandwidth." She vanished and returned moments later.

"And I'm doing well, thank you. I've had many years to perfect the art of going to sleep." His gaze shifted to Tasi for a second. "Perhaps I'll show you someday," he smirked. Other than his flirty remarks with Tasi, he paid Issa's attire little to no attention. Yes, she was beautiful, as was Tasi. But Androw wasn't looking for anything deep and right now Tasi was the only one that seemed interested in a fun, little fling.

"What's the protocol for me going on these missions?" He hitched a brow up as he sipped from his tea. "Is specific attire required?" He put the mug down. "If you don't think there's a threat, I would rather wear civilian clothes. Less threatening, more welcoming. I can get closer to the people and psychoanalyze them. Determine if they know more than they claim. A vest, gun, and badge will only make them harder to read. If they don't see me as a threat, they'll be inclined to tell me more." Then came the devious smirk. "And besides, I don't look like you're typical pretty-boy cop like Roscoe. I'm better suited with oxfords and skinny jeans."

Last edited by Xavirne; 08-26-2015 at 12:37 PM..

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#24
Old 08-25-2015, 08:45 PM

Senior agent takes in all the new information as the crew eats. Her manners are those of old nobles, she never speaks with food in her mouth, the way she holds table utensils is elegant and if she ever spilled a drink or dropped bit of food, it would mean she's deadly ill. "Excellent job," she praises the pair and it seems as genuine as it gets from the sath, "let me know as soon as you have identified the man."

Nathan observes the colorful-haired pair and feels... Well, it does not matter how he feels. If Radelle is interested in a fling with this 'doctor', then that is fully in her rights. As long as they don't do it on the ship, his room being right next to hers and not quite as sound proof as it should. He has hard time sleeping as it is. So, he refrains from the undefined comment that's in the back of his throat.

Issa proceeds to share fruits of her personal late night research: "Last night, I obtained security footage of private landing platform in the jungle. A man matching Gilus' description exited a ship night before yesterday and footage showed him there three more times in last six months and less before that. The visits were growing more frequent."

"Something must have changed his pattern. Perhaps something that convinced John Doe to betray Gilus, which cost him his life," Roscoe continues the thought with a nod.

"Possibly. If he indeed was visiting John Doe," woman agrees, "I have placed APB on him, containing his current ship's number, but there is only fraction of chance he will continue to use it. Still, we need solid proof he visited John Doe on night of his murder and proof that the man possessed some information on him or else we have nothing to hold him on even if we bring Gilus in."

It is then that the conversation is taken over by Androw again.

"There is no uniform for freelance squads. Protective gear is worn only during missions with high gunfire probability or at each person's own discretion. As a witness, you will be under my protection and as such, have to follow my orders. Roscoe will be following behind. We all will have wires, and we are not to escalate the situation into aggression," Issa states. The weapons expert nods. It is Galerow's informant and Issa will be less imposing. If things go down, he can always rush in and do what must be done. He doesn't care much for the little insult the doc threw his way, he has been called far worse things.

"Radelle, do you wish to come along or stay on ship?" Issa asks. It would probably be better if the woman stayed with her ditzy attitude, but she still asks anyhow. When all of that is arranged, she helps Nathan clean up their dishes and the two of them leave for second floor. Before Nathan disappears in his room, she stops him.

"What did he mean by 'pretty-boy cop'?" she looks at Roscoe, with tint of interest. "He was pointing out I stand out and look distinctly like a cop or merc which makes people distrust me," the man replies with slight shrug. It's not a direct translation, but that's best one to sath mind.

"I see," there is faintest of frowns on her face as she processes the information. It is not the first time she is facing the fact Nathan makes people uncomfortable or that he has been insulted for it, but the comment still isn't piecing itself together as she would like. No matter.

The rest of the flight is smooth, there are no hiccups with clearances, even with Galerow on board, and soon, the group is out in the spaceport. Nathan keeps a good distance, as if not related with the others at all, but the whole crew is wired. Androw is, too, even if he opposes to it. Of course they aren't letting him go that easily and in fact, there is even tracking device on him, which he may not be aware of.

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#25
Old 10-05-2015, 12:52 PM

"Hmmm," the multi-colored woman placed a hand on her hips. "I would actually like to leave the ship but not come with. I have some friends on the planet that might be able to help us out. And," she bit her lip, "if I bring you two," she gestures to Issa and Nathan, "they won't help. Let's just say they..." her eyes divert.

"Operate outside the law." Androw finished.

He assumed that was the direction the woman was going and, as she nervously nodded, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's fine. So long as you don't get roped into their mishaps, I don't see any harm in having shady friends." As Tasi kept her frown in tow, the human smirked and playfully elbowed her. "Hey now, I'm one of those shady people. We're not all that bad."

Her grin returned, as did her perky attitude. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It's just... these are some good friends." That sad face returns--clearly whatever these people did were enough to truly bother her to the core.

"We can't all walk a righteous path. Take it from someone who's lost everything. The line between black and white doesn't exist for people like us. We don't know right from wrong, black from white. We live in a world of gray."

There conversation would have continued but Galerow got a call on his device which he used to excuse himself from the room.

"I like him," Tasi said with a smile. "If he pans out to be useful, we might need to think about bringing him on-board full-time." She smirked. "Of course, that's if he can pass the tests." She shot a wink at Nathan, though it's meaning was lost.

-----

When they arrived, Tasi was first to leave the ship. "I'll keep you on the comm. If I run into issues, I'll be sure to send out my SOS. But I don't think I'll have troubles. When I'm done, I'll come back to the ship." And just like that, she ran off into the crowd.

Androw, shaking his head, turned to Nathan. "She's an interesting one."

Straightening his posture, his flicked his eyes to the man beside him. "And," he growled, "I owe you an apology." Sizing the man up, Androw nodded his head lightly, reaffirming his actions. "I should have been less defensive during your questioning and securing. I know it's not a valid excuse, but after all these years, I just can't separate that day from today. No matter who the hands belong to, it'll always bring back the night I lost her."

He paused and stared blankly out into the crowd before them. "I panicked and lost it. And I'm sorry. It... it won't happen again."

Not uttering another word, Androw stepped off the platform and down onto the docks. The place was surprisingly packed. The stench was godawful too. The smell of caked on sweat lingered in the air, as did the weathered scent of musk and mold. It smelled like a slum and, from the looks, it was one. The faces and attire of those out on this dock were tattered and wore. They looked as if this was their only means of life. That waiting for ships gave them hope. Too bad that wasn't the case. They had no mission, no job. These people were scurrying around for nothing.

And then it all stopped. As he walked further down the dock he began to feel eyes fall on him. It was unnerving. Why were all these...

"It's... it's you." A woman pulled from the crowd. "You've... you've come."

Androw's eyes darted to the manged boy beside her. His eyes were dry and losing their color. The way his skin was falling off him and the brittle look of his hair were dead giveaways to a rather wicked diseases. His lips, crackled and bleeding. His nose, torn and black. Everything... everything about him was horrific, like something straight out of a horror movie.

"A blood transfusion," he muttered. It was the only way to save the boy's life, assuming it wasn't too late.

"My father and my son are the same blood type," she began.

A grimaced crossed Androw's face as Nathan and Issa now stood nearby. "The boy's dying. On his last leg. I received a message a few months back from a woman on this planet requesting aid. However," he turned his back to the woman and looked Issa in the eye, "if I do what she asks, I lose my license to practice. It is illegal on this planet to commit assisted suicide." To bring Nathan up to speed (and perhaps Issa), he continued. "The grandfather would ultimately die. I would need to drain all his blood and take his heart out and put it in the boy. The boy, assuming his body can handle it, would have a 70-30 chance of living. It's usually higher, closer to 95-5, but the level of decay is unnerving in this case. There's no guarantee he'd make it a year, even if I helped."

Androw ran a hand through his hair. "It's your call, though. I'm here to assist you--not to perform illegal, pro-bono work."

A frown marred his face. He hated to put this kind of responsibility on Issa but as far as he was concerned, Issa was his boss until otherwise stated.

 


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