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Tyraus Ravia Pratix

"We've got a job to do."

0 · 475 views · located in A Sad, Sad Place

a character in “Martyrium”, as played by Messiah

Description

Name: Tyraus Ravia Pratix (TEER-ouse RAH-vee-ah PRAY-ticks)

Age: 34

Race: Vaegoth Execrul

Appearance: Tyraus stands at a few inches above five feet, a height that would traditionally be tall for a male of his species. His scales are a grey-blue mix with the scales around his extremities (head, hands, feet) more blue and the scales on his chest and back more grey in color. He has eyes the color one might call a dark sea green with flecks of yellow. Tyraus' snout is slightly shorter than your typical Vaegoth, a feature that he seems to take some measure of pride in, though other races aren't likely to notice such a difference. Perhaps his most striking feature is a long scar that runs from his left nostril to just to the side of his left eye.

While in combat, he wears moderate armor, being middle-of-the-road as far as both dexterity and protection is concerned. His shield also provides moderate to high protection. He would wear heavier armor, but his particular brand of tactics is more suited for hit-and-run strikes and ambushes that require being able to move faster than heavy armor would allow.

His armor is custom-designed, both in manner of design and color. It is primarily black, but on the right side of his torso, it bears what one may describe as an orange slash-design. Along the left arm of it, only faintly visible are six sets of three-lettered initials scratched into it.

The armor is specially designed with built-in "pockets" that hold ammunition for his Storm and Hawk, as well as his explosive weapons. He had this design implemented for the specific purpose of keeping them from being damaged or, in extremely rare cases, even detonated while still on his person.
Outside of combat, he most frequently wears typical Execrul clothing, though he has foregone Federation military clothing so as to avoid being identified as one.

Personality: Tyraus values honor, justice, and honesty above all else. He may also be described as loyal to his superiors, but only to the point where he believes his orders don't put others in danger or conflict with what he believes is right. As his new "squad", he remains loyal to the crew of the Second Horseman and would make any sacrifice necessary if they needed him to.

He has a near obsessive way of handling his weapons and his explosives, so much so that he'll take issue to someone even touching his weapons or his armor or explosives. To this end, he keeps them all locked up in his quarters where no one else can get to them. Tyraus feels that his obsessive nature is justified, particularly with the explosives, as nobody on the Second Horseman has the knowledge of the explosives that he does. If they were mishandled, it could have disastrous effects, particularly on the ship.

Although Archer seems to have molded himself into the one the rest of the crew listens to (how, Tyraus has no idea), Tyraus views himself as something of a second-in-command. Considering the other options, the choice of Tyraus seems obvious. If Tyraus had his way, he would be the one in charge, as he views himself as the most pragmatic of the crew.

People who profess to know him to some degree have often called him "brash" and "honest to a fault". Tyraus isn't one to often mince words, which can sometimes cause issue with the rest of the Second Horseman. This also leads to the misconception that Tyraus doesn't have a sense of humor. But, that's contrary to the truth. Tyraus has a very dry sense of humor. Unfortunately, most people don't seem to be able to tell the difference between when he's joking and when he's being serious. And he does have a softer side, but he rarely allows others to see it, as he views it as unprofessional.

He believes in settling conflicts in an honorable fashion. However, his sense of honor doesn't extend as far as some others of his race does. Pirates and slavers and others who prey on the weaker are not deserving of his honor or respect and he has no qualms with ending their lives when the situation calls for it.

On some level, he shares some guilt of surviving the Toeckel Incident, but those feelings are much less intense than they used to be. Instead of dwelling on what happened and how he managed to survive, he has decided to devote his energy honoring the memory of Omega Squad.

History: Tyraus was brought up in a military family, as many Execrul are. His was slightly different in the manner that he had grown up not knowing his father. His mother had told him that his father had been killed shortly after Tyraus was born. From a young age, he was teased by the other young Vaegoth about his snout. "Shortsnout" and "Runtnose" were the most common names he was called. The names were insulting and this eventually led to a fight between him and the other Execrul that had made fun of him. He had won, but this led to severe punishment. The lesson he had been taught, particularly by his mother, was to bear that feature with pride. It made him unique in a way that kept him from acting out. From then on, he took the advice given to him and wore the feature that others saw as a flaw as a matter of pride.

During his adolescent years, he found he had a fascination with explosives, and the inner workings of non-explosive weaponry. This put him on the fast track to becoming a more sought after recruit. As evidence of this, after being formally accepted into the Federation military, the commanding officer of Omega Squad (one of the more elite squads) had requested he join.

The commanding officer, whose name was Averii, had become a father figure to Tyraus, and taught him lessons about the things he holds most dear now; honor, justice, and honesty. The other members of Omega Squad didn't warm up to him very quickly, having just lost their previous explosives expert, but Averii stood up for him. Eventually, the other members of Omega Squad began to take a liking to Tyraus after witnessing enough of his expertise and his combat prowess. They had become one big happy family.

Unfortunately, families can't stay together forever. While on a seemingly routine patrol, Omega Squad was ambushed by pirates. A nearby civilian settlement was nearby and the presumed target of the pirates. The squad had been pinned down in the settlement, waiting for evacuation. The evacuation didn't arrive until all of Omega Squad had been killed except for Tyraus, but, amazingly enough, he had managed to not allow one single civilian casualty.

After the incident (officially named the Toeckel Incident after the settlement that had been under attack), a trial was held in order to determine what punishment, if any, should be levied onto Tyraus. Although he wasn't convicted of anything, at the trial, it was decided that it would be best that Tyraus be discharged.

After his discharge, he forcefully exiled himself to the outer reaches of space where pirates and slavers frequented. On his own, he managed to dispatch hundreds of pirates and slavers with a clever combination of tactics, explosives, and conventional weapons. For close to fifteen years, Tyraus remained in the outer rim, fighting criminals until the Second Horseman and its crew found him and sought his help. His motives for joining up remain a mystery. When asked, he simply responds with "I just wanted to see new things."

General skills/specialties: Aside from being knowledgeable about explosives (in their implementation, arming, and disarming), Tyraus also has an extensive knowledge of weapons in general, having been both the explosives and weapons expert in his squad while still with the Federation military. Due to his military training, he is also skilled in hand-to-hand combat. In addition, Tyraus, like many Execrul, is a valuable tactician, often combining that with his know-how of explosives to create lethal assaults and ambushes.

Typical weapon loadout: N-43a Storm - The N-43 is a standard ballistic type selective-fire assault rifle. However, the N-43a is a slightly modified version that allows for a grenade launcher to be attached, used primarily for crowd control. The Storm is considered an older and slightly outdated weapon. The Storm that he has, he has been using since he started his military career. It has been an efficient and reliable weapon for him.

D-2 Hawk - Rocket launcher. Tyraus rarely uses it, but he always has it with him. Only in cases of extreme duress, which will commonly be under a situation where they are being attacked by a ground vehicle or some kind of anti-personnel aircraft where using any of his mines (see below) is not possible. Ammunition on his person for this weapon is relatively limited. The Hawk possesses a standard lock-on feature. However, like anything of that type, if the target is quick and agile enough, it may avoid a shot from the Hawk that has been "locked-on".

SK-7 Dagger - A standard semi-automatic sidearm.

Knife - A close-range blade that resembles a kukri.

Proximity Mines - Explosive weaponry set to detonate when someone gets within a three meter spherical radius. The particular mines that Tyraus carries makes use of a specific technology that some others do not: The mines makes use of Friend-or-Foe technology. Although not foolproof, it has certain measures to prevent it from detonating on friendly targets, including scanning for armored targets. Each member of the Second Horseman has been defined as friendly under these parameters, as have any unarmored and unarmed targets, preventing detonation on civilians. Used in favor of manual-detonation explosives (see below) when line-of-sight on the mine is not possible or not preferred. Most useful against personnel.

Timed Charges - Used for explosive and dramatic entrances, or when the tech cannot force open a door. Though, of course, that's not the only application for the timed charge. The weapon itself is designed to allow the user to choose the amount of time before detonation. Effective anti-material explosives, but unreliable against personnel due to their timed nature and the relative unpredictability of where targets may be during detonation.

Manual-Detonation Explosives - Unlike proximity mines or timed charges, these must be detonated manually by the user. These usually have a lower chance of creating unwanted casualties due to operator discretion. However, it is generally advised to use these only when line of sight is possible. These are useful as both anti-personnel and anti-material explosives, but are more useful against vehicles and structures than people.

All of the mines in Tyraus' possession it use a clamp-like mechanism that allows them to attach to most any surface, whether it be a floor, a wall, a ceiling, any incline/decline, or an uneven surface (such as a rock).

Fragmentation Grenades - Your standard anti-personnel grenade that explodes into pieces of shrapnel, meant to cripple and kill organic targets.

Concussion Grenades - Anti-personnel grenades that uses its explosive power alone to cripple and kill targets, as opposed to shrapnel. Generally seen as less lethal to targets, but there is less risk for collateral damage using these grenades.

Thoughts on the Crew:

Tyraus on Archer - "Immature, but the others seem to take to him as the man in charge. At least he listens to my advice."

Tyraus on Kaine - "Not sure I can trust him. Let's just leave it at that."

Tyraus on Aranoth - "Good at his job. Needs to work on how he resolves crew issues."

Tyraus on Salis - "She needs to learn to use weapons. We can't afford to have the medic aboard the ship if we need her and can't get to her."

Tyraus on Jag - "Psychotic, but at least if she wants to kill you, she's not going to hide it."

Tyraus on Rin - "Kind, but a little too naive."

So begins...

Tyraus Ravia Pratix's Story

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Rin-Naera Character Portrait: Tyraus Ravia Pratix Character Portrait: Zack Archer Character Portrait: Salis Hunar Character Portrait: Aranoth Character Portrait: Jag
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#, as written by Savader




A long, long time from now...

Actually, it's not really that far into the future...

In a galaxy far, far away...

Wait, that's not right either...

It's THIS galaxy...

Yeah, this one...

The one with the spiral, or whatever...


MARTYRIUM





Well here we are, folks... The beginning of the story... The moment that started it all... Well, maybe not all of it, I mean, I'm not the guy who created the universe-- I'm just the guy who wrote this little introduction to an epic tale following a ragtag group of mercenaries doing whatever the hell they please throughout the Milky Way Galaxy IN that universe. No... No, that other guy was God. God did that. I'm not God. If you want creativity, then go and talk to that jerk. But hey, thanks for reminding me of my insecurities! Assholes... Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah; The beginning of a...really long journey...filled with...epic...stuff-- OKAY, YOU KNOW WHAT? FUCK THIS SHIT. JUST... Here it is...



It was a rather boring day for one particular crew of mercenaries that were currently stationed at a sad, sad place, in their equally sad, sad ship, doing God only knows what. One of them, however, was very clearly snoring quite loudly with the side of his face stuck to a desk thanks to the help of his own spit. In one hand, he held a near-empty bottle of whiskey. In the other? Well...that one... That one was digging around in the front of his pants. Again; doing God only knows what... This man, who was not unlike the common lowlife of a man you'd regularly find in any dysfunctional family's study each night after getting drunk for no other reason than simply because "fuck you", was none other than Captain Zack Archer: founder and current leader of the widely unknown mercenary business, The Second Horsemen. But hey, at least the name is cool. How many better names for a mercenary group can you think of other than the second horseman of the apocalypse? None, that's how many! Well, probably none aside from the actual horseman's name, War -- but that was already taken by another group known as War & Ruin, so fuck you anyway! Know why? Because that group doesn't have Captain "Mother-Fucking" Archer on-board their ship, now do they! No, they do NOT. And he's fucked a LOT of mothers, most likely, so deal with it!

So there was Archer, sleeping his troubles away without a care in the world. Wait, that doesn't sound right... If he's got troubles to sleep away, then doesn't that mean he's caring enough about them to do so...? Ahhh, that's right-- he's sleeping his cares away without trouble! What was I thinking? The Second Horsemen don't have any "troubles". Least not yet, anyway... Well, that was more-or-less the run-down of an average morning for Captain Zack Archer. A killer hangover from the now-passed Sunday night. Which meant that today was Monday. Which meant that something terrible was about to happen. Because Archer totally forgot all about it until that terrible something reminded him that it was so incredibly terrible.

The phone rang...

Well, it was the future, so it wasn't really a 'phone' phone, but rather the thing that acted as our sense of the word's replacement, which was in the form of an inter-galactic bridge of communication networks stretching across to every corner of the Milky Way Galaxy. In other words, a fancy-ass cellphone. But I'm going to call it the "holophone". So yeah-- suddenly, the "holophone" rang. And it was loud. At first, Archer just kinda grunted slightly, trying to turn his head the other way, only to give up because his face was too damn stuck to the surface of the desk he never used for anything other than...well, that. Then again, there was the occasional female bartender he'd pick up and bring back here from time-to-time... Anyway, as the "holophone" continued to ring, the orange light from the Caller ID's 3D hologram flashed the name of one of his clients, which illuminated the immediate area. This bright light was beginning to annoy the young captain, although he still managed to fight it with a scowl and a grit of his teeth.

Because someone on his ship chose to change the settings of his "holophone" so that it would continue to ring louder and louder each time he didn't pick it up; by the 4th ring, Archer was practically screaming inside his head, telling himself to 'Just pick the damn thing up already!' However, being Archer, he didn't actually give in until the 7th ring -- which was a good thing he did, too, because if he would have waited even one more second, he would have lost his chance at what was supposed to be their biggest job to date!

"HWAT!?" he yelled, rather stupidly, dropping the bottle of whiskey after forcefully ripping his face off of the desk. "D'YOU rEALIZE WHaT TiMe it...is?" Pausing to check the time on his holophone with squinted eyes, Archer nearly vomited all over his desk, but somehow managed to keep it down for the time being. "S'like... 12 iN the afTeRNOon, bro...!" he grunted into the receiver, burping a little. The voice that spoke from the other end of the connection sounded rather annoyed with Archer's usual lack of professionalism.

"Yeah, today's the day, asshole." said the client. "You know, THE day... I'm gonna need you guys out here to pick up the package within the next couple 'a hours, or else I've been told told to pass the job off to someone who can tell me with certainty what fuckin' day it is..." Archer merely scowled in disbelief before looking to his right at the calendar on his wall.

"Well I'm certain you sa..id it was on...MONDAY..." hiccuped Archer, looking ahead once more with a slight wobble. What happened next nearly made him drop the "holophone" out of startle.

"IT IS MONDAY, YOU JACKASS!!" screamed the client. "Now sober the FUCK UP, get DOWN HERE, and DELIVER THE PACKAGE!" With each raise in emphasis, Archer pulled his ear away from the receiver, creating something of a comical head-wag.

"O-Okay, okay! Jeez... You don't to yell--" began Archer, only to be cutoff by the sound of his client hanging up on him. "H... Hello...? Pssht, little bitch hung up on me...!" Turning off the "holophone" and setting it down on the desk he was now propping his elbows on top of, Archer sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. Trying to kick his thoughts into overdrive so that he could remember how important this job was supposed to be, Archer just sat there, barely breathing. And then it started coming back to him... For over a month, Archer had been promised a "special job", as it were, by a reliable client that would regularly get him jobs from various groups and other businesses. However, this one was said to be completely anonymous; Archer's client telling him how little he knew of them himself, other than the fact that they always pay well. This job in particular required some sort of package to be picked up and delivered to the mother ship and home of the Xilass race: The Dephdra. Until a week ago, Archer was beginning to lose hope, as most everyone on his ship figured he was spouting the regular nonsense that came out of his mouth each day, since there had yet to be any "big" or "special" jobs. The job itself was easy enough: Archer needed to swing by The Dephrdra again anyway in order to keep his promise with a certain Xilass crew member of his, so there was nothing all that "special" about it... And then he remembered the best part. The main reason why he accepted the offer back when he was first told about it.

"THE PAY!!" he suddenly shouted, waking up the female bartender that was crashing on the floor beside him. Her shout having made him give out a rather high-pitched scream of his own as he turned his head to look at the bizarre creature that was capable of making such a sound. Pausing for a moment to look at her, he scowled. "The fuck are YOU still doing here...?" he asked her in a strained voice. Her reaction to such words was less than pleased.

"Well, excuse ME for not being able to walk home after last night!" she sassed back at him. That's when they both smiled at each other, Archer giving her a nod.

"That good, huh?" he asked with a suave tone of voice.

"Oh, yeah~" she replied, giving him a suggestive look, by which Archer just leaned back in his chair, one arm over it as he stared at her until his smile began to fade.

"Well that doesn't quite answer my question, now does it!" he gradually shouted back at her, making her flinch slightly. "You can walk NOW, can'tcha'?! So get the fuck off my ship! I've got important mercenary crap to do here!" Finishing with that, he stood up and walked over to his coffee pot next to the sink. Scoffing, the female bartender stood up, albeit weakly at first, before moving towards the cabin door.

"Fuck YOU, Archer!" she said back, giving him the finger.

"Too bad you already beat me to it, lady!" said Archer, waving the back of his hand at her in farewell as he poured himself a cup of fresh coffee while the woman growled at him before leaving. There was nothing like a fresh cup of coffee in the morning to Archer... Well, it was 12 in the afternoon, but that wasn't the point. Taking a few sips of the delicious concoction, he let out a satisfied sigh, walking back over to his desk to sit down once more. Head still pounding quite fiercely, he took a couple of sips more, already thinking that he would be needing a bit of the hair of the dog that bit him in order to make a comeback from last night's binge. But instead, he figured he had better get to work, so to speak...

Leaning over his desk a bit, one hand grasping the handle of his mug while the other stretched out its index finger to click in the ship's intercom system. Speaking into the mic, Archer made his first announcement of the day.

"Well... It's that time of the day once again, kiddies." he started, his voice low and soft over the ship's speakers; evidence that he was suffering from yet another hangover. "Just got off the phone with one of our top clients... Looks like that big job I mentioned awhile back is happening. Like, right now. That means it's time to WAKE UP, you lazy sacks of shit! Ow... It's time to go to work! Hnng... Let's get Rev started up and heading for planet Alta Jarvis, located in the...Centaur Region. Don't keep papa waiting! Guh..." Finally done torturing himself with the sound of his own loud voice, Archer took his finger off the switch to the intercom. And then, on cue, one of the hands stopped while passing by his doorway.

"Archer, dear." she said, pausing to give him a look. "It's 12 in the afternoon; the only one who hasn't already been awake since morning is you..." At this, Archer made note of two things: 1, that bitch bartender left his door wide open, and 2, Kelly was looking rather hot today for someone who wasn't even compatible with his species.

"I know, Kelly." replied Archer. "I was just doing the 'professional' thing for once." Taking another sip of his coffee, he then kicked back with his legs up on the desk, looking relaxed. "By the way; your ass is looking especially awesome today."

"My name's not 'Kelly'..." she said with a bored tone, giving the impression that she'd told him this many times before. "It's Kei'Hally..." Placing her hands on her hips, she blatantly ignored his 'observation'.

"Knew that too, Kelly." said Archer, giving her a tilted nod while looking away from her. This just made Kei'Hally smile wryly and roll her eyes before hanging her head back in defeat as she walked away. Things were looking good, Archer thought to himself as he finished his first cup of coffee. By then, Rin-Naera should have already been prepping the ship for departure just as the bartender finally left, and the others would be getting ready for any problematic situations that may arise to meet them in the near future. For while Archer's crew knew how much nonsense he spewed out each new day to be his regular thing, and no matter how much they figured on this "big job" having been just another one of those things, they also knew one very important thing: Archer never joked about a job...

They knew it was go-time.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Tyraus Ravia Pratix Character Portrait: Zack Archer Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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#, as written by Messiah
Archer's voice resonated over the speakers on the ship. Tyraus could tell that he was hungover. When wasn't he hung over? The execrul had long since stopped trying to change the man deemed to be in charge of the ship. Trying to get that man to change would have been no different than trying to stop a gnirloc from hunting a klexel. It just wasn't going to happen.

"Well... It's that time of the day once again, kiddies." he began, "Just got off the phone with one of our top clients... Looks like that big job I mentioned awhile back is happening. Like, right now. That means it's time to WAKE UP, you lazy sacks of shit! Ow... It's time to go to work! Hnng... Let's get Rev started up and heading for planet Alta Jarvis, located in the...Centaur Region. Don't keep papa waiting! Guh..."

He had wondered...

The captain had been boasting of an upcoming job a lot lately. Tyraus took it for nothing more than fluff. He hadn't really counted on the job to manifest itself and had been looking for other jobs. Things had been so slow lately that he'd been entertaining the possibility of looking for other work. Of course, he had a certain loyalty to Archer and the rest of the crew, but no work means no money and no money means you might not get to eat. There had to be a point where he said enough was enough.

But, thankfully, things seemed to be looking up.

Tyraus had his quarters nearest to the armory, by the exit of the ship, as he'd taken to unofficially labeling himself the chief weapons officer while aboard the ship, just as Archer had taken to unofficially labeling himself as the captain of the ship. By this point, most of the crew was willing to trust him with their weapons, especially if they were having problems. The only notable exception was Jag. He didn't even bother trying with the noxchi crew member. That would have been as futile as trying to change Archer's self-detrimental habits.

The vaegoth execrul that shacked up by the armory rarely ventured outside of it or his room these days, except for twice a day when he went to mess to have a meal. And, even then, he rarely saw any of the other crew members. A few days ago, he came upon the tatari, Salis, in the mess, but she didn't stay long after his arrival, and no words - other than a greeting and a farewell - were exchanged. He would have to bring up her reluctance to carry or use weapons at some point. If they were going to be facing gunfire, then they may not be able to afford to have her aboard the ship. Emergencies were inevitable, and if they needed the medic in the field as soon as possible, well, it wouldn't end well.

Tyraus relished the quiet whenever he could get it. In his younger days, he would hunger for battle, to the point where he would have gone stir-crazy after a wait like this. But now, there was a certain serenity that he took in his work, making sure his own weapons and the ones in the armory were maintained.

He had spent nearly fifteen years fighting pirates in the outer rim day in and day out. A break every once in a while was rare, and now he was glad for it.

But, at the same time, if he had remained in the outer rim, he would probably still be fighting them and helping the colonies out there. Now, he was just sitting around, trying to find some way to be busy. For the first time in years, those pirates would probably now have a chance to raid those colonies. Some sacrifices had to be made, and Tyraus had to make one in order to close a certain chapter of his life that had been open since the incident that had caused his discharge.

Normally, Tyraus wasn't one to hold grudges, but he didn't like to call this a grudge. He always told himself that this was justice. It was about more than just him. It was about Averii, and Frael, and Ket, and the rest of Omega Squad. They all deserved closure on the issue.

That was another task for another time. Now, he had to get to work. After the announcement had been made, Tyraus had gone to his room, where he had picked up a holopad and looked up the planet Alta Jarvis. The planet was a smaller hub world. Not as busy as some other worlds, but it had a fairly large population of mixed races. At least they wouldn't be out of place there.

A hub world like that meant that they could expect almost anything. Their contact could be anybody. He might have been of the reputable sort. He might not have been. Either way, he would have liked to know what they were getting themselves into.

So, that meant that the execrul was going to have to venture up the ship to the captain's quarters and ask him about it. And that's exactly what he did.

Archer's door was open when he arrived, and he let himself into the captain's quarters without so much as a word of warning from himself or a word of permission from the captain.

"Archer," he began, not bothering to sit down, as the white-haired human turned to look, "About this job. You haven't been exactly forthcoming. You know how I dislike surprises. Don't you humans have a saying about traps?" Knowing them, they probably had ten or twenty, "I'd much rather avoid walking into one. It would be good to have more than just yourself knowing what we're getting ourselves into. What kind of job is this? Who is our contact?"

Tyraus wasn't exactly hopeful that the captain would be willing to disclose the information that he had. He liked to do that from time to time, which directly contradicted Tyraus' own personal philosophy of being as prepared as possible before going into a job.

But, here he stood expectantly. Sometimes he wondered why he bothered.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Rin-Naera Character Portrait: Tyraus Ravia Pratix Character Portrait: Zack Archer Character Portrait: Aranoth Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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#, as written by Savader
Yup, things were going great on the Revenant, as they always did when a job came up. Archer was still kicking back in his seat when his holophone rang once again. Not picking it up right away, despite giving it a quick turn of his head, he smirked a little. Knowing it was likely Rin who was even bothering to call at this point. Finally picking it up, he was greeted with the small voice of the ship's scout, as was predicted.

"Heya, Tink. What's happening?" said Archer, speaking in his usual, confident tone of voice. Rin then went on to tell him that the ship was ready whenever he was, wondering whether or not he'd be doing the honors of taking her out. Archer pondered the thought of flying it out to Alta Jarvis, but decided against it, as it wasn't exciting enough to him as it were. "Nah, I think I'll pass. You take her out if you want to, Rin." he said, only for her to move on to a different topic. "Ohhh, certainly! I just love our talks! Especially when they're about finance." Giving her a "You got it, dude." he ended the call. Archer has had many "talks" with Rin over the company's finances, usually resulting in the scolding of something that Archer did, followed by some sort of compromise he was forced into. While he wasn't particularly excited at the thought of losing yet another privilege on his ship, he wasn't all too interested in the matter for the time being.

Not even a minute later, he received yet another call; this time from the ship's technician. "Aranoth?" asked Archer, feigning surprise. That quickly faded back into his previous smile. Aranoth explained that he was at the ready for any commands to fly the ship, should Archer want him to. "Well, that's up to you, my friend. I already gave the go ahead to Rin, but if you wanna give her a hand, go right ahead. Never know what those little hands might need help with!" He added in a wink, as if the Xilass could somehow see such an expression over a communication link. Hanging up, Archer went back into his kicked-back, relaxed position, heaving a comfortable sigh.

Another couple of minutes, and this time, Archer had an actual visitor. Walking into his cabin without question, the explosives expert known as Tyraus was standing before him; the desk sitting between the two mercenaries. Archer turned his head in the Execrul's direction, acknowledging his presence without any qualms regarding his informal conduct. This was a rather usual encounter the white-haired captain had with the stoic man, so it was of no surprise to see him so suddenly. Without greeting his visitor, Archer waited for him to finish speaking his mind before looking away for a moment to smirk at nothing, and back at him, finally sitting up straight in his seat, leaning forward with his hands together over his desk. Once finished, Archer nodded, understanding where the Execrul was coming from.

"No idea." he said, a short silence between both men following after. Scoffing out a slight chuckle, he continued, albeit a little more serious this time out of consideration to who he was talking to. "Our 'contact' is the same guy who gets us all those other jobs from the smaller companies of the galaxy, so no change there. The only difference is that this specific group doesn't want anyone to know who they are or what they're up to-- not even the guy they hired to hire US. I don't know a damn thing about these guys, and I don't care. All we need to know is that someone needs a package delivered somewhere, and they're willing to pay us a loooot of money to do it for em. That's all that should matter to a bunch of lowly mercenaries like us, my friend." Archer paused, kicking back into his usual attitude as he leaned back in his chair again. "The job is simple: we head to station Z93 on Alta Jarvis, grab whatever the hell it is that needs grabbin'; take it to the Xilass' Dephdra, and get the fuck out of there. Easy money. The credits will be wired to the Second Horsemen's private account as soon as I send the confirmation order of the delivery to our client, who will then send word to our employers that the job is done." Finally finished with his explanation, Archer clapped his hands together. "Boom! And that's that. Any other questions?"

Archer understood why Tyraus was so curious over the details of such a sudden job, as any mentally sound mind would be, but he wasn't personally interested in such details. Someone needed the Second Horsemen's services, and the Second Horsemen needed a job; it was a win-win, whatever that job may be. Any worries over the possibility of picking up a device that could turn out to be potentially threatening to either them or the place they were meant to take it to was just unnecessary. They had an explosives expert and a master computer on-board the Revenant; any threats of that nature could easily be scanned without even peaking at what was inside the box, which they would do either way, as they did with any package they picked up. It was just common sense to at least run a security check on anything they brought aboard the ship, so that wasn't a problem. And given the fact that this specific group of mercenaries have only ever done so much throughout these past 3 years, it was hard to believe they would have any enemies out to get revenge on them, so a trap was also unlikely. Either way, Tyraus's discretion was taken into account, as Archer had done with most everything the Execrul brought to his attention. He was, more or less, Archer's only sliver of hope when it came to common sense. Something he made to remind himself of ever since he recruited the man back in the canyons of planet Gallek...

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#, as written by Messiah
Tyraus listened respectfully to Archer talking about the job. There was definitely something up about this. If this was such a simple delivery job as he claimed it to be, why were they getting paid so much? And what exactly did this company have to hide?

"Walking into this blind isn't a good idea, Archer. The money is only good if we're alive to spend it." The execrul paused, then, and stepped closer, "You know I respect you." It was true. The human had managed to get the better of him once, and that had earned Tyraus' respect. "But, if any of the crew is killed because you didn't do your research or kept us in the dark, I will be holding you accountable." Tyraus didn't allow any hint of anger or resentment show through. It wasn't a threat, it was honesty - a warning, maybe. He wanted to be clear about what he intended. And, of course, his promise could only be fulfilled if they both managed to survive.

If Archer was going to be this casual (as he often was) about this, Tyraus would just have to do his own part to keep ahead of this. That meant that he was going to have to make another stop.

With a respectful nod to the captain, "I'll leave you to... whatever it is you're doing," and then he exited the human's quarters. His next stop would have to be to see Aranoth, the xilass tech expert, who was sure to either be in his quarters or in the cockpit. The quarters seemed empty, so he headed to the cockpit.

Aranoth was at the flight controls, just as Tyraus had expected of him. For a moment, he stood near the back of the cockpit, just watching, and not saying anything.

Finally, after a little while, he spoke up.

"We don't know what we're picking up. Aranoth, I want it checked before it's allowed on board the ship. I want it checked three times. I want you to make sure there's nothing in that package that could be harmful to the ship or the crew. I'll be checking it as well for explosives."

And, without waiting for a confirmation from the xilass, Tyraus turned around and vacated the cockpit, and made to return to lower parts of the ship where his quarters, the armory, and the cargo bay were all located.

He took to his quarters and sat at his desk. Inside one of the drawers, he took out some more appealing cuisine. Today, he'd be dining in his room.

Archer only ever ate chili dogs, and he only ever got the ingredients for it. Chili dogs were the first meal he'd shared with Archer, and it was then that he discovered that he didn't like them. Tyraus had told him, several times, that he didn't like the messy concoction, but the captain just looked at him like he was insane. Now the execrul had taken to dipping into his personal account that the crew was unaware of, maybe except for Aranoth. That was precisely what he hated to do, as he was saving the money there for something else - something other than himself.

When he arrived at his desk, he discovered that he had a message on his holophone that hadn't been there when he had left his quarters in the morning.

He recognized the frequency, as it had been used to contact him on several occasions before. It was surely from Nexa, a "representative of the Federation".

The message would be the same as the others. Some higher-ups at the Federation were trying to get a hold of him to save face at their handling of the Toeckel Incident. They wanted to bring him in, probably apologize, and maybe pin a medal on him and call him a hero for saving those civilians at great personal cost.

"This is Nexa Asa Veces," the message began. He knew it. Nexa was young, probably younger than Tyraus had been when Omega Squad had been killed by the Toeckel settlement. She would have been much too young to even remember. "And I'm calling on behalf of Sparas Kelun Ordranus," it continued. Tyraus knew that name. Ordranus had been one of the ones as part of his trial to recommend the punishment of discharge. No doubt the man wanted to clear his own conscience for his part in Tyraus' judgment. "He would like to meet with you and discuss the Toeckel Incident from approximately fifteen years ago." That said about as much about it as anything else. It had taken fifteen years. "This is the most recent number listed under your name, and I do hope you are getting these messages. Please contact us when you get a chance."

Just like every other time they had called him, the message would go without a response from Tyraus. He held no grudge against the Federation or Ordranus for the judgment levied upon him, but Tyraus wasn't interested in apologies, nor was he interested in ceremonies.

It was as simple as that.

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Character Portrait: Rin-Naera Character Portrait: Tyraus Ravia Pratix Character Portrait: Zack Archer Character Portrait: Aranoth Character Portrait: Character Portrait:
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#, as written by Savader
Archer merely sat in his seat, a simple smile on his face as he listened to his friend mention a few important points regarding the suspicion that came with this job. All obvious ones, but important all the same. Archer scoffed out a small chuckle at that. He didn't know what package it was they were supposed to be picking up; he did know that it was odd for someone to be paying a small group of mercenaries like the Second Horsemen such a large amount of credits to deliver such a simple package; and he was aware that it could prove more troublesome than his client had originally let on. All of this meant that the package had to be either very valuable... or very dangerous. Either way, Archer was well aware of these strong points Tyraus was bringing up, yet didn't drop his usual confident gaze whilst waiting for the execrul to finish.

When he finally did finish, however, Archer was no longer smiling as prominently as before; his expression now containing a hint of annoyance, as though he were upset that a member of his crew could ever believe that he'd put any of them in harm's way so ignorantly... Then again, the impression he had given them all upon meeting and working with them over the last few years wasn't all too commendable, so it was understandable if none of them truly got what he was about. Realizing this, he frowned wryly, giving the air an understanding shrug and nod, as if to say 'Well played, Life'. Bottom line, Archer wasn't about to let his lovable crew die because of some stupid delivery mission. Not even for the pay it came with. Just wasn't worth it to him. He was leading a rather comfortable life with them at the moment, and he wasn't about to let that end over something so small. If Tyraus was ready to hold Archer responsible for such a thing, then Archer was ready to accept any punishment the execrul thought to be fair, because there was no way in hell he was going to let any of them die. And if he did, then he wouldn't deserve to be this ship's captain anymore, so he thought it was perfectly reasonable for Tyraus to punish him accordingly. He gave him another smile and a dismissive wave, nodding along with him to show he understood. With that, Tyraus bid farewell to the captain and left him to his devices.

Archer sat there in silence as he mulled over the mission in more depth. He was -- like he had when his client first brought the idea of this mission to him a month ago -- wondering if the possible risk that came with not knowing anything about the job other than what to do and where to go was even worth it... Sighing, he pulled up a datapad that was sitting at the end of his desk, now looking at his recent financial activity-- something Rin had forwarded to him about a week ago, which he had only barely looked at until now. It was obvious that what Rin needed to talk to him about involved this very issue, but that was beside the point. He really went all out over the past few weeks, and it showed on the data in front of him. He knew he was probably getting a little crazy, but he never could have imagined it would be this bad... His shoulders falling as he let out another, depressed sigh, he realized he was going to have to force himself to take a break from the high life of chili dogs and sex. At least for a little while. When was the last time he had a simple steak dinner, anyway...?

Whatever the case, risk or no risk, they had to see this mission through. They needed the money now more than ever, and it was all because he went overboard with the company's money. Not even Archer was dumb enough to miss how serious this was. Dropping the datapad back onto the desk with an audible clatter, he began massaging his shoulder as he continued thinking about the whole thing. The mission itself was beyond suspicious, but it wasn't their job as mercenaries to pry, and seeing as how they needed the money, it left him little choice.

"Hmph..." he grunted aloud while scratching the back of his head. "Guess I'll just have to be extra careful on this one." That being said, he was still doubting that there would be any significant trouble to worry about. But being a little mindful of the possibility couldn't hurt this time around, as long as it meant keeping his crew alive. Either way, he chose to stop being so dramatic about the whole thing, knowing that there was no sense in worrying about any 'what-ifs'. If it was too late to cut their losses by the time they picked up the package, he'd take the lives of his crew above all else once trouble finally came uh knockin' -- just as he always did with anything else. He would deal with any future problems whenever they decided to meet him in the present. Until then, this was just like any other job...

It was then that Aranoth's voice came over the intercom, counting down the ship's jump into hyperspace. With that, the now-sober Archer jumped up from his seat and walked over to the door of his cabin, grabbing his iconic red leather jacket on the way. Throwing it on, he eyed himself in the mirror for a moment, giving himself a wink before heading towards the elevator that would take him down to the main floor of the Revenant. It was time he payed the rest of his crew a visit.

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As Aranoth sat back in the pilot's seat, waiting for the internal scan to be completed, he heard the cockpit door open. Since the self-diagnostic was running in the background, his ability to carry on a conversation was unimpaired, so the Xilass glanced round to see who it was. Ah, it was Tyraus. Aranoth was just about to ask what the Execrul wanted when the latter managed to answer that question before it had even been spoken.

"We don't know what we're picking up. Aranoth, I want it checked before it's allowed on board the ship. I want it checked three times. I want you to make sure there's nothing in that package that could be harmful to the ship or the crew. I'll be checking it as well for explosives."

"Acknowledged. These are indeed valid concerns. Once we receive the package I will -" The sound of the doors opening and closing again caused the Xilass to stop talking. He looked round again to see that Tyraus had left the cockpit. That was... actually somewhat rude, but if he had pressing matters to attend to elsewhere, then so be it. His brief appearance was a welcome break to the monotony of waiting in the cockpit, if nothing else. Leaning back in the chair, Aranoth prepared himself for more of said monotony.

Some time later, the doors opened again, and this time it was Rin who entered. She was just sitting in the chair next to Aranoth and already she was asking how she could be of assistance. Aranoth was going to answer when he saw that the Minagora's attention was diverted. A message going directly to her neural link, perhaps? Regardless, it was rude to interrupt her concentration. Once she had finished, Rin instructed Aranoth to search for information on a group called the Nolai Regents whenever possible, and to keep said findings private.

"Understood." the Xilass replied. "I would likely be able to... acquire some information from local databases once we arrive at our destination, but what I currently know is that they are a dominant mercenary group within the Centaur region. Hopefully we should be able to avoid an encounter with them while we receive our cargo." As much as Aranoth would've liked to believe those words, it didn't seem too likely that the Second Horsemen would be able to keep quiet for that long before raising some hell. Still, the Nolai Regents couldn't be everywhere at once, so if they were lucky, they just might be able to quickly get in and out, right under their noses.

Aranoth swivelled the pilot's seat round to face Rin, his brow furrowed as he tried to think of how best to respond to the offer of help she had given just as she had entered, even though Aranoth hadn't even asked for help of any kind. Eventually, he reasoned that blunt honesty was probably the best option here. No point in trying to sidestep the issue.

"The reason I called you was not because I required help in anything, Rin," he told her. "In fact, it is the other way around. With the amount of work you do it is a miracle you have not yet exhausted yourself today. Please do not hesitate to ask me for assistance in your duties in the future." Without waiting for a reply, Aranoth swivelled the chair back to its original position. The Xilass kept silent for a few minutes before speaking up again.

"Since you have made yourself comfortable, I assume you have no other duties to attend to as of now. It will be several hours before we reach our destination, so if you want, we could chat for a while. I think it has been a while since we last had a proper informal chat, wouldn't you agree?"