The Sigma Fleet
A large collection of ships, they have formed their own settlement in space using their ships. Some people here spend their whole lives without ever touching a planet.
Minimap
northwest |
north |
northeast |
west |
You are here. |
east |
southwest |
south |
southeast |
| "out" to Deep Space 1 » | ||
The Sigma Fleet is a part of 
AP-755.
4 Characters Here
CEO Wilson Colk [14] Founder of Zenith Enterprises
Clumohne Phisnore [13] A halfblood has the benefit of a human's impulse control and a devil's lack of empathy.
James Hyfield [0] Always Finding A Way To Survive.
Akemi Himura [0] A vampire and an a assasin.
Start Character Here »
Mr. Colk was rarely utilized by LogicRoad as he was known for being rather sadistic in nature and prone to bouts of extreme rage. He was a fixer, someone whose job was to handle the far more sketchy jobs. In this matter, LogicRoad was setting up a subsidiary known as Zenith Enterprises, Zenith Enterprises would take up HQ in the abandoned Sigma Fleet, a city created by interconnected ships. The goals of Zenith Enterprises was to study effects of various chemicals, personnel under Zero-G as well perform more illicit experiments of LogicRoad, including creations of Bio-Weapons and Cyber-Organic Augmentation of the body to provide pain relief as well as far more militaristic intentions.
In short, Zenith Enterprises was the facade that allowed LogicRoad to act professionally, with subjects being brought from the RIP who fit specifications they were providing Aschen Nation with a delivery of 40,000 soldiers without pain inhibiting their performance, both male and female. Effectively who would only act by logic, rather emotion. The Sigma Fleet allowed for such creations to be done in secret and also provide less chance of people finding any of the bodies if they were searched for.
Eros Fletcher had demanded that once Sigma Fleet was taken over and everyone was comfortable to take an order of 100 RIP prisoners and begin the experiments to create perfect soldiers.
Why do this instead of cloning, because Cloning was messy and while it was faster, the subject may lack emotion in future, but their minds would be unique allowing for far more diverse methods and plan. Combined with cybernetic augmentations within bones and outside the body, with the nimble Cyber-Nano Threads, allowed for form-fitting armour yet protecting against from most artillery barrages unless prolonged. The Nano-Thread technology with cybernetic implants, made it so armour if hit by powerful shots, would quickly reform.
Eros normally would not have sold such technology so fast, but Aschen's were breathing down his neck, and this was a way to appease for the situation that occurred at the secret facility in Langara.
Mr. Colk would represent Zenith Enterprises as the CEO acting to all Independently --- their field of expertise military enhancements via Bio-organic, Cybernetic and creation of Weapons. Completely legal and removing culpability from LogicRoad.
In short, Zenith Enterprises was the facade that allowed LogicRoad to act professionally, with subjects being brought from the RIP who fit specifications they were providing Aschen Nation with a delivery of 40,000 soldiers without pain inhibiting their performance, both male and female. Effectively who would only act by logic, rather emotion. The Sigma Fleet allowed for such creations to be done in secret and also provide less chance of people finding any of the bodies if they were searched for.
Eros Fletcher had demanded that once Sigma Fleet was taken over and everyone was comfortable to take an order of 100 RIP prisoners and begin the experiments to create perfect soldiers.
Why do this instead of cloning, because Cloning was messy and while it was faster, the subject may lack emotion in future, but their minds would be unique allowing for far more diverse methods and plan. Combined with cybernetic augmentations within bones and outside the body, with the nimble Cyber-Nano Threads, allowed for form-fitting armour yet protecting against from most artillery barrages unless prolonged. The Nano-Thread technology with cybernetic implants, made it so armour if hit by powerful shots, would quickly reform.
Eros normally would not have sold such technology so fast, but Aschen's were breathing down his neck, and this was a way to appease for the situation that occurred at the secret facility in Langara.
Mr. Colk would represent Zenith Enterprises as the CEO acting to all Independently --- their field of expertise military enhancements via Bio-organic, Cybernetic and creation of Weapons. Completely legal and removing culpability from LogicRoad.
Clumone took it upon herself to avoid having a 'company vehicle' since it was bad for business if she was recognized easily at a glance of the scanner. It was much easier to go about company business while on other business. Plausible deniability. Especially when the job came with resources. The captain's chair of this military transport crammed full of Gardener mercs was actually rather comfy and the environment suitably warm to her liking. The Gardeners had a missing person and apparently someone in Logicroad had passed along her card to Volla as a 'helpful' gesture. A few changed hands later Matriarch Nemesis, High mother of the Gardeners that made the business of war, made the call. She pulled in her services for a very reasonable fee and stipend to track them down and perform any rescue if needed. If found under duress then rescue 'by any means necessary'. A nice open-ended mission that was likely going to take time anyway and she could afford to be seen handling other responsibilities. With a crew bonded by a neutrality doctrine that looked on her in some societal role very close to a deity. No questions and as long as she did not mistreat them or dispense with abandon, per her contract, then Clumone's word was law.
Not alone in the bridge either in presence, or nakedness for that matter, Clumone eyed the display as they neared the exit point for where the sigma fleet was located. Arachnid-looking crew with spindly arms silently went about their duties. Gardener high and low soldiers around her had their weapons on spring clamps near to their station ever at the ready should she order them to deploy them. They otherwise only wore tools of destruction, armor, or harnesses thereof not clothing which she found quite utilitarian. Earlier she ordered one to see to her other needs and that not-so-little weapons display made the physical dichotomy with their Matriarchs apparent. Mostly things she knew about xenophysiology of that particular system. Matriarchs clearly grew to at least a magnitude larger size than the two meter wide soldiers just by the physical proportions. A little sore but not disappointed she eyed the Gardener crew that looked on at her like some beloved art piece. A handler could ask for more but not by much. Still, she needed a shower to be presentable before warping in.
Beside her captain's chair she turned flaring red eyes to a smaller low soldier beside her that eagerly clutched a set of shower supplies stating plainly, "Second, I'll need my business outfit after a shower. Have someone collect it. Bring the rest of my things and a plasma pistol sidearm."
The small .6m green jumping spider with its head full of eyes bounced with sheer joy at being ordered to serve by a False Matriarch by caring for her. Their silence was noted hence the name they chose for their encrypted broad-spectrum RF neuroform language. Rapid clicks of mandible hands showed her that much and the best agents were ones who couldn't imagine not serving their leader or handler. Another small green spider left the bridge without an audible word. Sometimes that kind of loyalty was accomplished by cybernetic compliance implants and sometimes by advanced conditioning training. These creatures she could feel lurked in her brain by some psionic group willpower just itching to conform to her wishes.
An abyssal brain literally full of not so metaphorical spiders very much worried enough for another Matriarch to form a war party. Only one major complaint she had was that they valued the group as much as her which made some frontal assault tactics nonviable. The ludicrous notion that missions disregarding the value of group members were self-harm on her part. Some utility for implants she supposed but then they wouldn't exactly adapt well with independent thought being the mother of creativity.
She left for the small bathroom in the captain's quarters with her second and made a mental note to have research make some sort of neuro harness compatible with this Quietus they used to communicate with each other. Without a hint of shame but more than so of reverence the small green spider clambered up onto the shower walls soaping her up from the small bucket of cleaning supplies on one mandible arm. The other came and went without a word depositing clothes and tools onto the desk.
Only the second bothered to wear a waterproof transceiver to speak as most were quite bad at sound imitation, "Your clothes are here as you asked! Do you need to be serviced before your meeting, False Matriarch?"
"No," she said turning off the shower her spiked tail tossing a bottle on the floor up to the spider, "so dry me off. I need to dress and call the CEO."
Four ambidextrous limbs made short work of the drops slowly moving downward across her hydrophobic skin. The spider even took care to clean her limbs and body the right direction. Astute creatures they were indeed helping as she dressed and even doing basic checking of her sidearm. Dressed in a form-fitting grey suit the thick cloth around her neck hid the top of the light environment suit. The long jacket protected and hid her sidearm but she shifted it forward so it didn't look like she was actually hiding it from her superior. She moved to the bridge with crew silently communicating in quietus nodding to her second. The ship had already dropped out of warp a military transport armored to the teeth belonging to the Gardener Matriarchy.
The comms channel opened to Sigma fleet from a large blade arm gently pressing a touchscreen, "Sigma Fleet. This is handler Frostbite, authorization Romeo Two Sierra Charlie Eight Nine. Stopping by while on long-term assignment to check for logistical supplies."
Honestly the ships looked haggard but this was where everything was going. She gave the time-appropriate call sign and the wording indicating she was here with plausible cover for assignment. Somewhere from inside the swarm of ships a comms signal would light and direct her where to dock. They'd better have something together enough to take her class of ship as some of the ships looked like they were missing a deck or two. A work in progress but a lot of salvageable hardware she reckoned. She eyed a console where the weapons crew were planning cover, maneuvers, and targeting solutions. Once riled their attention to war didn't ever sleep. Good. She knew they wouldn't dare shame her by opening fire without her word. The squirming mass she could feel in her brain looked like this splatter of ships but had a similar certainty about it she couldn't define.
Not alone in the bridge either in presence, or nakedness for that matter, Clumone eyed the display as they neared the exit point for where the sigma fleet was located. Arachnid-looking crew with spindly arms silently went about their duties. Gardener high and low soldiers around her had their weapons on spring clamps near to their station ever at the ready should she order them to deploy them. They otherwise only wore tools of destruction, armor, or harnesses thereof not clothing which she found quite utilitarian. Earlier she ordered one to see to her other needs and that not-so-little weapons display made the physical dichotomy with their Matriarchs apparent. Mostly things she knew about xenophysiology of that particular system. Matriarchs clearly grew to at least a magnitude larger size than the two meter wide soldiers just by the physical proportions. A little sore but not disappointed she eyed the Gardener crew that looked on at her like some beloved art piece. A handler could ask for more but not by much. Still, she needed a shower to be presentable before warping in.
Beside her captain's chair she turned flaring red eyes to a smaller low soldier beside her that eagerly clutched a set of shower supplies stating plainly, "Second, I'll need my business outfit after a shower. Have someone collect it. Bring the rest of my things and a plasma pistol sidearm."
The small .6m green jumping spider with its head full of eyes bounced with sheer joy at being ordered to serve by a False Matriarch by caring for her. Their silence was noted hence the name they chose for their encrypted broad-spectrum RF neuroform language. Rapid clicks of mandible hands showed her that much and the best agents were ones who couldn't imagine not serving their leader or handler. Another small green spider left the bridge without an audible word. Sometimes that kind of loyalty was accomplished by cybernetic compliance implants and sometimes by advanced conditioning training. These creatures she could feel lurked in her brain by some psionic group willpower just itching to conform to her wishes.
An abyssal brain literally full of not so metaphorical spiders very much worried enough for another Matriarch to form a war party. Only one major complaint she had was that they valued the group as much as her which made some frontal assault tactics nonviable. The ludicrous notion that missions disregarding the value of group members were self-harm on her part. Some utility for implants she supposed but then they wouldn't exactly adapt well with independent thought being the mother of creativity.
She left for the small bathroom in the captain's quarters with her second and made a mental note to have research make some sort of neuro harness compatible with this Quietus they used to communicate with each other. Without a hint of shame but more than so of reverence the small green spider clambered up onto the shower walls soaping her up from the small bucket of cleaning supplies on one mandible arm. The other came and went without a word depositing clothes and tools onto the desk.
Only the second bothered to wear a waterproof transceiver to speak as most were quite bad at sound imitation, "Your clothes are here as you asked! Do you need to be serviced before your meeting, False Matriarch?"
"No," she said turning off the shower her spiked tail tossing a bottle on the floor up to the spider, "so dry me off. I need to dress and call the CEO."
Four ambidextrous limbs made short work of the drops slowly moving downward across her hydrophobic skin. The spider even took care to clean her limbs and body the right direction. Astute creatures they were indeed helping as she dressed and even doing basic checking of her sidearm. Dressed in a form-fitting grey suit the thick cloth around her neck hid the top of the light environment suit. The long jacket protected and hid her sidearm but she shifted it forward so it didn't look like she was actually hiding it from her superior. She moved to the bridge with crew silently communicating in quietus nodding to her second. The ship had already dropped out of warp a military transport armored to the teeth belonging to the Gardener Matriarchy.
The comms channel opened to Sigma fleet from a large blade arm gently pressing a touchscreen, "Sigma Fleet. This is handler Frostbite, authorization Romeo Two Sierra Charlie Eight Nine. Stopping by while on long-term assignment to check for logistical supplies."
Honestly the ships looked haggard but this was where everything was going. She gave the time-appropriate call sign and the wording indicating she was here with plausible cover for assignment. Somewhere from inside the swarm of ships a comms signal would light and direct her where to dock. They'd better have something together enough to take her class of ship as some of the ships looked like they were missing a deck or two. A work in progress but a lot of salvageable hardware she reckoned. She eyed a console where the weapons crew were planning cover, maneuvers, and targeting solutions. Once riled their attention to war didn't ever sleep. Good. She knew they wouldn't dare shame her by opening fire without her word. The squirming mass she could feel in her brain looked like this splatter of ships but had a similar certainty about it she couldn't define.
Mr Colk was currently in IC talking to some individuals about fraternization between crew members. He had adopted more kindly persona as this was a minor he could let slide unless it effect performance. Which, normally it did not, nonetheless these crew members have neglected duties and had to be spoken too. He could see the fear in their face and relished how much of shock to their sensibilities it would be when they realized how gentle he was being. As he prepared himself, his thoughts were interrupted by communication officer, "Begging your pardon Mr Colk, but a ship is requesting to land with correct documentation and code. They are that Tiefling you hired on, she appears to be delivering logistical supplies." turning he nodded, "Yes let them on board, docking bay 278 --- give them VIP welcome."
Turning back to the others he saw them exchange looks before he reached a hand up, "I do hope you two will not neglect duties again. You are both good at your jobs and would be crying shame to have to replace you. If you must fraternize with one another, do it during breaks or off hours." the relief he saw in their eyes was delicious, "Now, back to fitting this place and making it the HQ of Zenith Enterprises, forward a message to Eros Fletcher and tell him stage 1 shall be completed in one month."
Turning back to the others he saw them exchange looks before he reached a hand up, "I do hope you two will not neglect duties again. You are both good at your jobs and would be crying shame to have to replace you. If you must fraternize with one another, do it during breaks or off hours." the relief he saw in their eyes was delicious, "Now, back to fitting this place and making it the HQ of Zenith Enterprises, forward a message to Eros Fletcher and tell him stage 1 shall be completed in one month."
A comms signal bleeped and a low soldier manning it thumped at a control to silence the noise. The consoles were complex structures not easily redesigned. Gardener warriors much liked the silence as noise covered enemies, she was told. Consideration of that came briefly for the merits of the pervasive stillness this hull gave to the bridge. No vibrations or soft hums it was as if nothing existed in the walls. One could hear a single screw drop in nearly every room, even engineering, but never the Gardeners despite their size. Given full range of the ship she was very sure they'd seized someone's prototype angling for a look at the technology surrounding their planet. Exactly how they achieved that without damage to the craft was due great consideration.
They'd not yet gathered the inherent newness of this tech from their limited experience in spacecraft. Logicroad was on their planet of course, they'd been invited in due to their association with Matriarch Volla, and the engineers learned quickly. Though a thought picked at the back of her brain; they'd broken into the computers somehow. She probed the computer herself and got nowhere. Some agent inside silently fobbed her off with honeypots and access denials. Some ship intelligence that had learned Neuroform interfaces and chatted with the low soldier engineers directly. As docking instructions came in from traffic control the considerations were filed away for negotiable assets to prolong her stay, and thus her plausible deniability, for Zenith. If nothing else than to report back for investigation by a piercer more qualified than herself.
Her voice acknowledged the control tower, "We acknowledge receipt of docking information, heading in now."
"Pull us in slow. Weapons cold.", she ordered to the active room but echoing only herself as weapon consoles went dark across the bridge.
As lateral thrusters in the angular ship fired they threw a faint pattern to them that bothered to ape background noise. It made them harder to pick out of the background. Some sort of adapted ECW deep in the computer hardware folded passing EM to make itself look smaller depending on who was looking. This had to be a covert surveillance craft. What she still understood of the interfaces showed they appeared to change to accommodate the thought process of its new owners. It was likely due to engineers interacting remotely throughout the ship. That there were any displays at all in conventionally readable form were because the Gardeners choose to provide them to her. Holographic displays were losing the 'tactile' interface that humans frequently produced as non-physical signs that humanoids of some sort built this craft slowly faded. Eventually only the gravity-aligned construction and pervasive silence would remain.
As the ship pulled up to a newly constructed docking port its accordion insulating sheath extends outward. Plates of some metamaterial absorbant to many sensors confused the simpler parts of the docking hardware.
"View on the docking port, second," she ordered as a new window on her nearby console shows a low soldier helpfully emerging into hard vacuum with flares in hand.
Her eyebrow arched as the green Gardener fervently waggled lit flares; even the low soldiers were hardy. She left as the docking port recentered on a new gleaming target. A crude solution on the part of the engineers but effective nonetheless. Ever in tow the 'second' followed her as she went down the elevator to the dock. The engineers were busily stuck to walls and ceilings where she presumed they'd installed more Quietus communication nodes. One was actively removing a door panel as interfaces turned to display only throughout the ship. They kept secure habits which was good.
When her second bothered to vocalize a conversation through the speaker atop its head that wasn't for the benefit of the person he was talking. It gathered her immediate notice, "No, no weapons unless the False Matriarch asks. I will follow this place is safe. Wall to defend is fine."
Were they building a defensive position around the airlock? No matter. It would be gone by the time she needed to get through and said nothing. Her chatty second was perfectly happy with absolute silence unlike frequently chatty humans. Paranoiacs of security were rarely surprised she supposed. Flaming red eyes looked about as Clumohne sought someone to indicate where she would be debriefed.
They'd not yet gathered the inherent newness of this tech from their limited experience in spacecraft. Logicroad was on their planet of course, they'd been invited in due to their association with Matriarch Volla, and the engineers learned quickly. Though a thought picked at the back of her brain; they'd broken into the computers somehow. She probed the computer herself and got nowhere. Some agent inside silently fobbed her off with honeypots and access denials. Some ship intelligence that had learned Neuroform interfaces and chatted with the low soldier engineers directly. As docking instructions came in from traffic control the considerations were filed away for negotiable assets to prolong her stay, and thus her plausible deniability, for Zenith. If nothing else than to report back for investigation by a piercer more qualified than herself.
"Pull us in slow. Weapons cold.", she ordered to the active room but echoing only herself as weapon consoles went dark across the bridge.
As lateral thrusters in the angular ship fired they threw a faint pattern to them that bothered to ape background noise. It made them harder to pick out of the background. Some sort of adapted ECW deep in the computer hardware folded passing EM to make itself look smaller depending on who was looking. This had to be a covert surveillance craft. What she still understood of the interfaces showed they appeared to change to accommodate the thought process of its new owners. It was likely due to engineers interacting remotely throughout the ship. That there were any displays at all in conventionally readable form were because the Gardeners choose to provide them to her. Holographic displays were losing the 'tactile' interface that humans frequently produced as non-physical signs that humanoids of some sort built this craft slowly faded. Eventually only the gravity-aligned construction and pervasive silence would remain.
As the ship pulled up to a newly constructed docking port its accordion insulating sheath extends outward. Plates of some metamaterial absorbant to many sensors confused the simpler parts of the docking hardware.
"View on the docking port, second," she ordered as a new window on her nearby console shows a low soldier helpfully emerging into hard vacuum with flares in hand.
Her eyebrow arched as the green Gardener fervently waggled lit flares; even the low soldiers were hardy. She left as the docking port recentered on a new gleaming target. A crude solution on the part of the engineers but effective nonetheless. Ever in tow the 'second' followed her as she went down the elevator to the dock. The engineers were busily stuck to walls and ceilings where she presumed they'd installed more Quietus communication nodes. One was actively removing a door panel as interfaces turned to display only throughout the ship. They kept secure habits which was good.
When her second bothered to vocalize a conversation through the speaker atop its head that wasn't for the benefit of the person he was talking. It gathered her immediate notice, "No, no weapons unless the False Matriarch asks. I will follow this place is safe. Wall to defend is fine."
Were they building a defensive position around the airlock? No matter. It would be gone by the time she needed to get through and said nothing. Her chatty second was perfectly happy with absolute silence unlike frequently chatty humans. Paranoiacs of security were rarely surprised she supposed. Flaming red eyes looked about as Clumohne sought someone to indicate where she would be debriefed.
The Sigma Fleet housed many different labs, used by many different people. However, Veronica's lab had been her mother's and was used solely by the little girl now. It was near the outer edge of the fleet, as to minimize collateral damage should any of her experimentation go wrong. Once "accidentally" a toxic cloud that caused near instant drowning to anyone who inhaled it was released from the lab, and it had been moved as far out as it could get ever since.
Veronica was synthesizing a gaseous compound that infected most bipedals with a sort of accelerated rabies. She was working to make the onset time almost immediate, and the stage of hyper-reactivity and aggressiveness as violent and long-lasting as possible, before ultimately killing the host. Test subjects were kept in cages nearby: rats, dogs, bats, birds and raccoons. Birds had a curious reaction to the virus, becoming asymptomatic and recovering nearly immediately; they would be used to synthesize a cure.
The girl's work was important to Zenith Enterprises as it represented advances in bio-weaponry, as well as measures of population control, without directly linking to the company or their partners. If all went well she would present her findings and all relevant data to the CEO, Mr. Wilson Colk. Her mask was running with full safety protocols in place, filtering the air while also monitoring it for potential contaminants. A long, wistful sigh caused it to fog up every so slightly before counter-measures defogged it. Turning a forlorn eye to the window, Veronica noticed a ship coming in to dock.
The experimentation would be at a stand-still for some time, while she waited for the latest batch to distill so she could ensure the gaseous delivery wouldn't be compromised. She unlocked her door, the air-tight seal hissing as she did, and stepped out of her lab. Before heading away, she re-sealed the lab, locking it with a combination oral pass-code, finger-print, and retina scanner. The girl calmly proceeded to find the docking station, curious as to their newest arrivals. A red-eyed devil girl was one of them apparently. "Are you here to see Mr. Colk?" Her voice was distorted due to the mask's voice modulator, she'd tuned it to sound older and more mature.
Veronica was synthesizing a gaseous compound that infected most bipedals with a sort of accelerated rabies. She was working to make the onset time almost immediate, and the stage of hyper-reactivity and aggressiveness as violent and long-lasting as possible, before ultimately killing the host. Test subjects were kept in cages nearby: rats, dogs, bats, birds and raccoons. Birds had a curious reaction to the virus, becoming asymptomatic and recovering nearly immediately; they would be used to synthesize a cure.
The girl's work was important to Zenith Enterprises as it represented advances in bio-weaponry, as well as measures of population control, without directly linking to the company or their partners. If all went well she would present her findings and all relevant data to the CEO, Mr. Wilson Colk. Her mask was running with full safety protocols in place, filtering the air while also monitoring it for potential contaminants. A long, wistful sigh caused it to fog up every so slightly before counter-measures defogged it. Turning a forlorn eye to the window, Veronica noticed a ship coming in to dock.
The experimentation would be at a stand-still for some time, while she waited for the latest batch to distill so she could ensure the gaseous delivery wouldn't be compromised. She unlocked her door, the air-tight seal hissing as she did, and stepped out of her lab. Before heading away, she re-sealed the lab, locking it with a combination oral pass-code, finger-print, and retina scanner. The girl calmly proceeded to find the docking station, curious as to their newest arrivals. A red-eyed devil girl was one of them apparently. "Are you here to see Mr. Colk?" Her voice was distorted due to the mask's voice modulator, she'd tuned it to sound older and more mature.
The spider with Clumohne said nothing when the tiefling was addressed as they didn't speak for false matriarchs unless bidden. He stood a little over a meter tall in a bright green color though he had white pock-marks from bullet scarring all around his cephalothorax. Along a bandolier strapped to the head-torso a small green light blinked from its RF transceiver used for speech. It held a PDA lacking a keyboard in two flexible mandible arms occasionally raising it into view to check status reports. They didn't have any vocal flaps to speak with as the Vulcan organ used for thermoregulation left scalding breath and made any such adaptions by the Gardeners a statistical rarity even among their rarer genome mutations.
Clumohne looked at the little girl, figuring by the look of her must be in research somewhere, given the mask. At least the small girl looked like a young human. Clumohne eyed her second's PDA with a dock overview showing soldiers moving into view. Anti-material rifles could be heard sliding from between deck plating inside the ship behind her. They wasted no time moving defensive walls into place either the creatures now under her command clearly very much believers of defense in depth as none moved even as the airlock bulkhead closed behind her.
The Tiefling smiled though it clearly ill-suited her face, "Yes. I've been invited to discuss any concerns Mr Colk may have now that I'm enjoined by Matriarch Nemesis for a search of lost personnel. Who would you be?"
Clumohne looked at the little girl, figuring by the look of her must be in research somewhere, given the mask. At least the small girl looked like a young human. Clumohne eyed her second's PDA with a dock overview showing soldiers moving into view. Anti-material rifles could be heard sliding from between deck plating inside the ship behind her. They wasted no time moving defensive walls into place either the creatures now under her command clearly very much believers of defense in depth as none moved even as the airlock bulkhead closed behind her.
The Tiefling smiled though it clearly ill-suited her face, "Yes. I've been invited to discuss any concerns Mr Colk may have now that I'm enjoined by Matriarch Nemesis for a search of lost personnel. Who would you be?"
Certainly unique members of the company, a half-devil and an arthropod, both mercenaries by the look of them. Though, "mercs" were certainly by no means strange when it came to Zenith Enterprises. Her ship seemed to contain a contingent of soldiers, clearly audible in their preparations. Were all mercenaries so paranoid? The girl thought to herself while sizing them up. No, only the good ones, she concluded.
The airlock closed, and the half-devil addressed the little girl, inquiring as to her person. "Ms. Crowe, I am a legacy employee working with R&D." The girl extended a tiny hand to the Tiefling and continued her introduction without changing tune. "My work hit a waiting period, and I came to see what all the fuss is about. Your spider there, the green one with bullet-scars. Does it secrete toxins?"
Certainly there was always new creatures from across the Universe coming to the fleet, however as a spider-ish creature this one was interesting. Who knows what kind of exotic poisons or venom it may produce. The Black Widow's neurotoxin hijacked the subject's own nervous system, a poison similar to that could easily be the next step in her rabies project.
Veronica waited for the answer, whatever it might've been, before continuing on. "Ah yes, Mr. Colk mentioned visitors. Rather, the fleet's been abuzz expecting you. Let us go see him then, don't dally the fleet is a maze this time of year, and I've got to be back to my lab sooner rather than later."
The girl's tiny boots clicked along, heading to the CEO's office. Whether or not the Tiefling followed her, or didnt, she had to report this to Mr. Colk and get back to her work. Perhaps with Colk's assistance she could requisition some samples from the Spider for personal use. If negotiations went badly, she may even be called in to deal with it. A dead spider could produce useful samples as well as a live one, after all, just not for as long.
The airlock closed, and the half-devil addressed the little girl, inquiring as to her person. "Ms. Crowe, I am a legacy employee working with R&D." The girl extended a tiny hand to the Tiefling and continued her introduction without changing tune. "My work hit a waiting period, and I came to see what all the fuss is about. Your spider there, the green one with bullet-scars. Does it secrete toxins?"
Certainly there was always new creatures from across the Universe coming to the fleet, however as a spider-ish creature this one was interesting. Who knows what kind of exotic poisons or venom it may produce. The Black Widow's neurotoxin hijacked the subject's own nervous system, a poison similar to that could easily be the next step in her rabies project.
Veronica waited for the answer, whatever it might've been, before continuing on. "Ah yes, Mr. Colk mentioned visitors. Rather, the fleet's been abuzz expecting you. Let us go see him then, don't dally the fleet is a maze this time of year, and I've got to be back to my lab sooner rather than later."
The girl's tiny boots clicked along, heading to the CEO's office. Whether or not the Tiefling followed her, or didnt, she had to report this to Mr. Colk and get back to her work. Perhaps with Colk's assistance she could requisition some samples from the Spider for personal use. If negotiations went badly, she may even be called in to deal with it. A dead spider could produce useful samples as well as a live one, after all, just not for as long.
Clumohne wasn't entirely sure of that answer herself and looked to her second with a raised eyebrow. An eye cast back toward were the ruddy half-ton high soldier sort hid itself by subfloor grating behind the bulkhead. She saw the rifle in lockup under the high soldier's name easily reached into the realm of artillery. Their sawtooth grip shock-absorbant gimbal mounts while expensive had excellent performance characteristics after watching them at the ship's range. After looking him up in person she could tell he had poison of some sort after a 'close look' from underneath but the small ones had small fangs too on the inner mouthparts. All the Xenobiologists on Sopitos released papers constantly from what she could tell but mostly along encrypted private links. The Gardeners hadn't finished the wideband interlink building yet so wide public access to their limited global internet didn't exist for her to dig through data that deeply.
The Tiefling took the small girl's hand and shook it politely, "A developer of new tools. How useful, Miss Crowe. Poison, Second?"
Her second quite a well-read generalist for this position picked up on the hint from his False Matriarch filling in missing common knowledge as they went, "The high soldiers do have explicit poison. Some of Oculi's new healers have odd poisons but only one I know of is MIA. It varies by what the high soldiers are exposed to like the gestalt immunology of group low scout cabals. I, a low soldier, would still kill you humans if I bit you as mine are for blood transfusions. We may all be our equivalent of your Rh Null but our fluorocarbon blood is horrifically chemotoxic and hemotoxic for human iron-based diploids if our immune cells don't start detonating hydrofluoric acid in you first. Our organs can easily tolerate hemolysis by injury."
Clumohne raised an eyebrow realizing it was no wonder the things bruised and bled milky, "Acid? Whatever for?"
Her second stated matter of factly gesticulating a pulsing curl of its mandible arms with his elegant voice from the transceiver on his head, "All Gardeners have adaptive nanoimmunological structures. No black lung for us. We became deeply resistant to nanites from the blood wars after the purge of our former dominators."
The second followed with Clumohne but a faint scuffing of its skittering feet was all the noise it made. Clumohne's boots made the telltale clap of reinforced combat boots however business casual they may be. She made a mental note to ask Colk about getting some of those research papers coming out of Logicroad.
The Tiefling took the small girl's hand and shook it politely, "A developer of new tools. How useful, Miss Crowe. Poison, Second?"
Her second quite a well-read generalist for this position picked up on the hint from his False Matriarch filling in missing common knowledge as they went, "The high soldiers do have explicit poison. Some of Oculi's new healers have odd poisons but only one I know of is MIA. It varies by what the high soldiers are exposed to like the gestalt immunology of group low scout cabals. I, a low soldier, would still kill you humans if I bit you as mine are for blood transfusions. We may all be our equivalent of your Rh Null but our fluorocarbon blood is horrifically chemotoxic and hemotoxic for human iron-based diploids if our immune cells don't start detonating hydrofluoric acid in you first. Our organs can easily tolerate hemolysis by injury."
Clumohne raised an eyebrow realizing it was no wonder the things bruised and bled milky, "Acid? Whatever for?"
Her second stated matter of factly gesticulating a pulsing curl of its mandible arms with his elegant voice from the transceiver on his head, "All Gardeners have adaptive nanoimmunological structures. No black lung for us. We became deeply resistant to nanites from the blood wars after the purge of our former dominators."
The second followed with Clumohne but a faint scuffing of its skittering feet was all the noise it made. Clumohne's boots made the telltale clap of reinforced combat boots however business casual they may be. She made a mental note to ask Colk about getting some of those research papers coming out of Logicroad.
While this was going on Wilson Colk was in a phone call in his sparse office, "Well you tell Terran Government if they try to block The RIP being reopened then I'll personally hire my best lawyer and bankrupt the Government. The RIP is being reopened and none of your stone-walling will stop us." Pausing only to emphasize he continued, "Zenith Enterprises may be a young Company, but I promise you don't want to make us the enemy Ms Madame Secretary. ARE. WE. CRYSTAL. CLEAR?" he ended hostility barely hidden in his voice, "Good, now don't dare call me again unless you are approving the project." ending the call he smirked cruelly before patching into his secretary, "Brenda, withhold any calls from the TNG. I want to make them sweat."
With that, he would approach his exquisite mahogany desk and pour himself a drink of the finest scotch before checking his schedule, "Ah, so it is today. I best prepare myself then." pulling up projections of Quarterly Reports and other stats that the Mercenary would require.
Preparation was key
Of course, he was aware of the meetings nature. He had been briefed by Mr Fletcher on this as LogicRoad were the ones truly in charge here, of course, this was never stated overtly for important reasons.
With that, he would approach his exquisite mahogany desk and pour himself a drink of the finest scotch before checking his schedule, "Ah, so it is today. I best prepare myself then." pulling up projections of Quarterly Reports and other stats that the Mercenary would require.
Preparation was key
Of course, he was aware of the meetings nature. He had been briefed by Mr Fletcher on this as LogicRoad were the ones truly in charge here, of course, this was never stated overtly for important reasons.
Crowe nodded slightly, already navigating the maze that was Sigma fleet. "You're aware that our company goes through Mercenaries like water?" The near silent click of her boot-heels punctuating her sentences suggested a thoughtful cadence. "No matter, you're here at Sigma Fleet, so you have to know what you've involved yourself in." The girl continued purposefully, weaving throughout the maze of ships that made up Zenith Enterprises.
"You have to be quite confident, to garner Zenith's attention. Most of the people I meet in regards to company matters come from our sister company." The spider was quite confident in it's pharmacology. She wondered if it was even intelligent enough to denote pharmacology, but it was no matter at this point. Veronica had served this company for a majority of her life, regardless of the consequences, and she had no intent to worry about the repercussions now.
"I'm no diploid, Sir Spider. Haploid, as it be. I am of a single set. Not that the fact bars anything. I can easily replicate diploid-ism via certain procedures..." Biological replication became so tiring to Ms. Crowe. People always thought of it as some be all, end all. Where it was really only a simple step in Biology.
They stood outside Mr. Colk's office. "We have arrived, Devil-child and Arthropod. Mr. Colk isn't to be trifled with. I bid you pay him careful respect. As for me..." The girl feigned at brushing dust from herself. "I've work to attend to. Best of luck, to the both of you." The girl curtsied, leaving in a hurry, rushing back to her lab.
"You have to be quite confident, to garner Zenith's attention. Most of the people I meet in regards to company matters come from our sister company." The spider was quite confident in it's pharmacology. She wondered if it was even intelligent enough to denote pharmacology, but it was no matter at this point. Veronica had served this company for a majority of her life, regardless of the consequences, and she had no intent to worry about the repercussions now.
"I'm no diploid, Sir Spider. Haploid, as it be. I am of a single set. Not that the fact bars anything. I can easily replicate diploid-ism via certain procedures..." Biological replication became so tiring to Ms. Crowe. People always thought of it as some be all, end all. Where it was really only a simple step in Biology.
They stood outside Mr. Colk's office. "We have arrived, Devil-child and Arthropod. Mr. Colk isn't to be trifled with. I bid you pay him careful respect. As for me..." The girl feigned at brushing dust from herself. "I've work to attend to. Best of luck, to the both of you." The girl curtsied, leaving in a hurry, rushing back to her lab.
Clumohne gave a wry smile at Ms. Crowe following close in her own combat boots, "I never liked wasted resources. Too much work training the new help. I make it a policy not to waste an employer's resources. My clients so far have been quite appreciative."
The second replied to Crowe their name chosen by being a venue of knowledge, "You are a single copy, barren false Matriarch Crowe? How interesting! I will have to read about it Purveyors for the matriarchs must know a little of everything. Our Matriarchs use two males for their birth eye to choose among potentialities. Logicroad tried to replicate us but all the eggs were dead-minds. Matriarch Hygieia was not pleased."
Clumohne put up a hand to quell her second before giving a polite goodbye to Crowe, "Thank you, Second. I appreciate the warning, miss Crowe. Good day."
She looked down at Second to speak whom tilted immediately to look with a primary eye the implicit obedience left a pleased tone, "Second, If you could please remain outside the office. I wish to talk with Mr. Colk in private. Ensure we are not interrupted unless I or Mr. Colk make an invitation for such."
Second tapped its front two legs on its forehead in their custom of obedience. Clumohne nodded and entered the office. Second turned and gripped the door with his hind legs to close it slow and quietly. Two legs braced on each side of the door and the front four clung hard to the floor. A battering ram would probably break the door before it dislodged Second.
Clumohne waited just past the doorway both hands in view as one did in meetings like these. The red eyes looked at him closely evaluating her employer as much as he did her.
Her flat tone had none of the emotion she usually faked as a token of respect, "I'm here with plausible cover for work since you're paying a pretty penny. I heard logicroad even seeded the option. I've sent my new second out of the room so we can speak plainly. As covers go this one comes with an unexpected benefit that makes me Captain so I assume you have quite the problem."
The second replied to Crowe their name chosen by being a venue of knowledge, "You are a single copy, barren false Matriarch Crowe? How interesting! I will have to read about it Purveyors for the matriarchs must know a little of everything. Our Matriarchs use two males for their birth eye to choose among potentialities. Logicroad tried to replicate us but all the eggs were dead-minds. Matriarch Hygieia was not pleased."
Clumohne put up a hand to quell her second before giving a polite goodbye to Crowe, "Thank you, Second. I appreciate the warning, miss Crowe. Good day."
She looked down at Second to speak whom tilted immediately to look with a primary eye the implicit obedience left a pleased tone, "Second, If you could please remain outside the office. I wish to talk with Mr. Colk in private. Ensure we are not interrupted unless I or Mr. Colk make an invitation for such."
Second tapped its front two legs on its forehead in their custom of obedience. Clumohne nodded and entered the office. Second turned and gripped the door with his hind legs to close it slow and quietly. Two legs braced on each side of the door and the front four clung hard to the floor. A battering ram would probably break the door before it dislodged Second.
Clumohne waited just past the doorway both hands in view as one did in meetings like these. The red eyes looked at him closely evaluating her employer as much as he did her.
Her flat tone had none of the emotion she usually faked as a token of respect, "I'm here with plausible cover for work since you're paying a pretty penny. I heard logicroad even seeded the option. I've sent my new second out of the room so we can speak plainly. As covers go this one comes with an unexpected benefit that makes me Captain so I assume you have quite the problem."
To say Mr Colk was not fond of being addressed so plainly was frankly an understatement. Nonetheless, he merely ground his teeth before turning, "For many what is a problem is more often an opportunity. And this is what it is." he gestures to the projected screen, "In essence, we need a group of individuals no questions asked to perform a commute from Terra to Sigma Fleet. The package is from The Davrell Insitute otherwise known as The RIP in common parlance. These are extremely dangerous individuals and you will be transporting a hundred journey. They are magical, otherworldly or just plain dangerous without enhanced capabilities. You deliver them here every two weeks and you get paid."
Turning back to the mercenary he went on, "You are not to ever ask what we are doing with them and if you try free these individuals I shall send our best bounty hunters for your head." pausing he surveyed their expression, "The other problem, little more complex but Mr Fletcher asked me to look into it, hire a team to survey what happened to The Cryo Facility near New Canton, we have no idea what it is but we feel it is time to address this issue now. The second job payment up front, the first is payment when you deliver. You can take both or neither." walking over to the table he produced an electronic tablet, "Here are details you need for Cryo Facility and here are the details for the delivery. The amount promised for Cryo Facility is 500,000 of any currency denomination paid upfront on the ship before landing."
Turning back to the mercenary he went on, "You are not to ever ask what we are doing with them and if you try free these individuals I shall send our best bounty hunters for your head." pausing he surveyed their expression, "The other problem, little more complex but Mr Fletcher asked me to look into it, hire a team to survey what happened to The Cryo Facility near New Canton, we have no idea what it is but we feel it is time to address this issue now. The second job payment up front, the first is payment when you deliver. You can take both or neither." walking over to the table he produced an electronic tablet, "Here are details you need for Cryo Facility and here are the details for the delivery. The amount promised for Cryo Facility is 500,000 of any currency denomination paid upfront on the ship before landing."
Radio Static sounded from Mr Colk's comm system. Then...
"This is Kekkonen. I can confirm I am en route to New Canton with Vrisz, and will be expecting the payment of 500,000 in my off-shore bank account by the time I get to New Canton. Over"
"This is Kekkonen. I can confirm I am en route to New Canton with Vrisz, and will be expecting the payment of 500,000 in my off-shore bank account by the time I get to New Canton. Over"
If Clumohne noticed his irritation her face didn't move at all in just meeting his gaze and listening intently until he finished, "What you do with the packages after I deliver them isn't something I'm paid for so I don't care about knowing of it. Your conditions are satisfactory; the opinions of the packages will be of no interest. The Gardener crew will do as they're told and keep secrets even if they might object. I'll need to know containment procedures for each package if not included. The why isn't important but otherwise some breakage of packages may occur."
A light shift of her shoulders nothing in the tiefling sparked empathy or even a care for their personage within her voice, "The crew's silence is a part of my contract with the mercs I selected from Nemesis. The packages will be communications isolated as best as I am able."
She looked over the tablet considering the job remote location with possible hostiles and arbitrary recovery. She didn't do field work preferring to manage others that did that. The Gardener ship had several covert systems they were maintaining if not a full field cloak by the system readouts. The not so small armory and mercs to hold a LZ and move cargo could be useful.
She made a counter-offer, "As for Cryo I'm a handler of specops not the front line, Mr Colk. I can offer cloaked field support at Cryo and hostile LZ extraction for the mission but not the direct survey by my person as stated. I'm sure I have a heavy weapons specialist among the Gardener crew I could subcontract for you. They can carry heavy cargo, have their own emplacement-class munitions, and extreme environmental tolerance. The bug in question can take payment as it maintains goodwill for my cover used for the package transport."
A light shift of her shoulders nothing in the tiefling sparked empathy or even a care for their personage within her voice, "The crew's silence is a part of my contract with the mercs I selected from Nemesis. The packages will be communications isolated as best as I am able."
She looked over the tablet considering the job remote location with possible hostiles and arbitrary recovery. She didn't do field work preferring to manage others that did that. The Gardener ship had several covert systems they were maintaining if not a full field cloak by the system readouts. The not so small armory and mercs to hold a LZ and move cargo could be useful.
She made a counter-offer, "As for Cryo I'm a handler of specops not the front line, Mr Colk. I can offer cloaked field support at Cryo and hostile LZ extraction for the mission but not the direct survey by my person as stated. I'm sure I have a heavy weapons specialist among the Gardener crew I could subcontract for you. They can carry heavy cargo, have their own emplacement-class munitions, and extreme environmental tolerance. The bug in question can take payment as it maintains goodwill for my cover used for the package transport."
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