Rakkal Baeliv'jhor's Story

All along Main Street, car alarms suddenly flared to life. There was a ripple in the air, distorting the light from the streetlamps, and for any wide-eyed child in the windows or any low-life in the alleyways, that ripple seemed to wash away into the air, resolving as a tan ship, sleek and obviously meant for travel through the void of space, came into view. A flash of light and all the alarms were silenced, slight sparks rolling off them as their internal magnetics were fried. The lights dimmed, but the power source that fuled Wing City was strong enough to repel the weak EMP that the ship had released.

As it lowered towards the ground, three similarly sleek legs unfolded from the bottom of the craft. Though the ship could hover about a foot off the ground normally, the pilot liked the archaic look and feel of having his craft securely touching the ground beneath him. Let him know he wouldn't fall to his death when he got out.

As the canopy separated, opening only a few feet backwards to allow the pilot to exit, it seemed to become nearly invisible again. Nearly.

"Damn. Maybe I shouldn't go so fast in atmo. 'Specially if the cars are just gonna make a racket like that. I just hope that the ship I'd seen ain't a bounty hunter. I don't mind taking a head or two, but I'd rather not-" He was cut off as the smell of ozone permeated the street. He could hear a faint hum, but he couldn't determine how far it was, and that bothered him more than anything. He slipped off to crouch behind one of the now-dead cars and readied his rifle, priming the rails in case the weapon was required.

And then, drifting down out of the clouded night sky, the ship he'd seen earlier came into view.

Nearly seventy-five meters long, and comprised of a strange smoke and ash colored metal, the ship broke the lower clouds at a rapid, but decelerating pace, the hum of its ACPE similar to that of a thousand Terran hummingbirds synchronized all at once. Angular and rigid, its design was not one made of stealth, or even subtlety, and with a venting of thick crimson and violet gases, it began to descend not far from where the ship it had seen land prior, though the being aboard had quickly lost track of it. At the last second, however, and with another cloud of dark yet bright smoke, the cruiser began to hover some distance from the ground, kicking up waves of air that knocked over trash bins and small animals alike.

A quick scan of the area revealed to the being that it was not alone here, in a more local sense. Just by the amount of sub-orbital traffic and beyond, he had guessed he had found some sort of hub-world, which would hopefully be more beneficial that the last, and once more, with hope, more hospitable.

With another scan, it learned that the atmosphere would sustain his life presence, however, not very well. So, with much trepidation, it donned its exploration gear, and for a moment, pondered on any weaponry. However, he would not make that mistake again. With a small whirr the miniature engine on his Enviro suit kicked to light, and a bright flash briefly illuminated the beings frame. With a final systems check, it would leave the ship in hover before stepping onto the Prince's Door...

...appearing right below the vessal. A large being, covered head to toe in space-age protection, nearly two and a half meters tall, with equally ridiculously large weaponry slung across its back, a blindingly blue white light emanating from its visor as it looked about the area...

Tenna watched as the ship floated down. Despite its bulk, and despite the fact that, to his eyes, the damned thing shouldn't even be capable of flight, let alone space travel, it moved with a grace that showed there was more to it than just looks. The mercenary's mind reeled slightly with ideas about what tech kept it aloft. Was it repulsors? Anti-grav? Maybe some undiscovered form of propulsion. Either way, just as he was planning on moving closer, a Thing came into view directly below. He took it for some kind of mech that the craft had deployed, but it moved smoother than any machine could.

"Semi-organic then," he whispered to himself. "That leaves at least one vital area, but where would it be. Bipedal, so legs would be a good shot unless they're pure mech. Arms aren't worth the chance of missing, and the head could be a decoy, at that height. Center of mass it is, then." He checked his grip on his rifle, and when he was sure that he had full control of the weapon he stood straight and stepped out from behind the hulk of metal he'd been behind.

"You a hunter?" he asked, his tone not hostile, though not initially friendly. As his eyes roved over the weapons strapped tot he suit's back, he couldn't help but be impressed mentally. Neither one looked weak, let alone light enough for any one creature on the Disc to carry on their own.

His lack of experience with the capability to do so made him wary, and thus he kept his rifle aimed just in front of the thing's feet. If there was one way he could guarantee himself a bad day, it was by getting hit by a shot from whatever those guns were.

Tenna watched as the ship floated down. Despite its bulk, and despite the fact that, to his eyes, the damned thing shouldn't even be capable of flight, let alone space travel, it moved with a grace that showed there was more to it than just looks. The mercenary's mind reeled slightly with ideas about what tech kept it aloft. Was it repulsors? Anti-grav? Maybe some undiscovered form of propulsion. Either way, just as he was planning on moving closer, a Thing came into view directly below. He took it for some kind of mech that the craft had deployed, but it moved smoother than any machine could.

"Semi-organic then," he whispered to himself. "That leaves at least one vital area, but where would it be. Bipedal, so legs would be a good shot unless they're pure mech. Arms aren't worth the chance of missing, and the head could be a decoy, at that height. Center of mass it is, then." He checked his grip on his rifle, and when he was sure that he had full control of the weapon he stood straight and stepped out from behind the hulk of metal he'd been behind.

"You a hunter?" he asked, his tone not hostile, though not initially friendly. As his eyes roved over the weapons strapped tot he suit's back, he couldn't help but be impressed mentally. Neither one looked weak, let alone light enough for any one creature on the Disc to carry on their own.

His lack of experience with the capability to do so made him wary, and thus he kept his rifle aimed just in front of the thing's feet. If there was one way he could guarantee himself a bad day, it was by getting hit by a shot from whatever those guns were.

Before the conversation could continue, the duo would be interrupted by a single unmarked car. It rolled casually up to the hulking giant roaming across Main Street and the cautious merc facing him down. A single man emerged from the vehicle, dressed in a bland suit and black tie. He was short, slightly squat and generally unattractive.

"Uh. Hello," he waived meekly to the pair, smiling awkwardly, "nice day. Nice day." He shut the car door and walked steadily over to them. "Name's Pringley. NPA." He looked up at the massive ship, the hum of its engines still permeating the streetways. "That's uh." He nodded. "That's a nice ship. Big. Very big."

He cleared his throat, a short but awkward silence passing between them.

"...you're gonna have to move it though..." he sounded apologetic, "yeah. Sorry. Traffic hazard, y'know. Just uh." He cleared his throat again. "Maybe take it to the space port or something. Yeah. That'd be..." He scratched at the back of his head. "That'd be good."

The technology of this planet seemed...sporadically advanced. In some places, it looked modern in comparison to others, but in others, the houses looked so primitive and under-developed. As it scanned the area, the visor would shift in color, but never shying away from a pale, luminescent shade of blue. The language was unfamiliar to the being, and as the universal translator, known to its kind as the Maiden's Heart began its work of creating a cipher, and a translation script, it knew not how to respond to either.

On one hand, the original that was hiding, poorly, behind a nearby metallic hunk, seemed defensive, but not eager for any form of combat. Still, the creature would reach around and prime its rifle-like weapon, however it would not upholster the deadly weapon.

On the other, the secondary visitor, or visitee?, seemed more nervous than anything else, and though he understood not the request, it could read the tone in the being's voice.

Trying to address both, it could only hope that the translator was working. As it began to respond, its auditory sensors picked up what sounded like screeching, rending metal tearing against itself with an electrical reverb in the background, heavy with static. Coming from itself.

With a wince, it realized that it hadn't quite yet finished the translation script...The Maiden was working slowly today...

Tenna watched as the NPD Officer stepped out of his car and began addressing them both. He smirked when he realized that the officer had only seen the ship above them, not the semi-cloaked Solitude resting in the middle of the street. That would have been a real pain in the ass had it been otherwise.

Picking up the movement from the strange armor-clad...thing, he raised the barrel of his rifle, aiming it now at low center of mass on the larger biped, both hands on the weapon to steady his aim.

"Officer, I would suggest you stand down for just a moment. I know you've got your boys on speed dial, but there ain't a reason to call 'em in, promise. We'll be outta your hair before you know it." In his head, he added, 'What little hair you've got left,' but he kept his eyes and weapon trained on the larger being, his military training denoting it as the more dangerous of the two.

And then the noise ripped through his head, like two starships shearing through one another in atmo from a Magneto-gel implosion.

He dropped to a knee, dropping his rifle and putting his hands to his ears. As the noise subsided, he stood, rifle in his right hand and pistol in his left before he was standing straight, aimed one dead center of mass, the other at the head of the armored noise-maker.

"That...was not the nicest thing you could've done."

Blue lights flashed in Pringley's ears as the stranger unwittingly unleashed a painful-sounding sonic screech. Had the NPA officer not had his earbuds in, that might have hurt.

"Uh, that was an attempt to communicate, right?" the agent suddenly looked very worried, "not an attack? That wasn't an attack right?" He looked at Tenna, slightly panicked. He really hoped he wasn't being attacked. The mercenaries aggressive stance did nothing to alleviate his concerns.

Taking a deep breath, Pringley mustered his courage and stepped forward. He removed a small black cell-phone device from his belt and tapped his fingers over the screen. A moment later, the device began greeting Rakkal in every major Milky Way and Andromedan language on the TNG database, politely asking the alien to notify the officer when he heard a language that he recognized.

A faint shimmer glossed over the agent's figure. An omni-shield. Though scared half to death, Pringley wasn't a complete fool. The situation was escalating. He only hoped things would cool down...

Perhaps risking communication before being notified by his Maiden to do so had been an unnecessary risk. From the reaction the being observed on the other's faces, that was most likely the case, and it truly did regret it now. However, that little box that the unarmed male held was only serving to confuse his own personal translator even more, and after awhile, it shut it off, deciding to merely listen. Some things sounded familiar every now and again, though nothing stood out...until...

With clear and perfect native Misranan, Rakkal introduced himself, a voice that while filled with mild static, sounded almost too rough to be called angelic. A harp with twisted, broken wires, or honeyed gravel were the best ways to describe it. And still, he kept his helmet on. "Hello, small fat male. Is there an issue you wish to talk about?"

Perhaps introduction was the wrong word, but Rakkal's people were not known for their courtesies, nor for there trusting in others. In fact, unbeknownst to most, his species wasn't known at all. Still, he felt that this would do for now. These thoughts did little to distract the hulking being from the other one present however, and he kept his hands within quick, accessible reach of his rifle, which now hummed lightly, nearly inaudible against the thrum of his own massive cruiser.

Tenna watched as the officer went about his business with the alien. While he watched, he slowly put away his pistol and dragged his left thumb across a sensor on his hip. A second hum, almost as loud as the one of the ship visibly above them, droned into life slowly. It found a pitch at a pleasant tenor range, and as power was diverted to running the ship's main sub-luminal engines, the Solitude became visible.

Undoubtedly a ship know to the Terran officer, the tan skin of the ship rippled once or twice as the Chameleo device finish shutting down. With another few deft motions across the sensor, Tenna had the ship floating on a cushion of ions in moments, turning after a second, and silently drawing a bead on the officer all the while.

And then a thought struck the mercenary.

'Killing this fat man won't help me any, and might bring harder units down my neck,' his mind said to itself. 'I don't mind a little danger, but upper echelon NPA isn't something I need to be dealing with at the moment, cause they don't sleep.' His train of thought passed by, and with one more motion, he turned the Chameleo on halfway, the ship shimmering like a mirage, before sending it into orbit.

All without ever lowering the rifle's sights, though he'd tilted his head towards the officer.

"You understand this guy, pig? I've never seen that kinda ship anywhere before, and if you recognized my ship, you'll know I've been cruisin' the galactic disc for more'n a decade or two. He here for me?"

Pringley breathed a sigh of relief, glad to have a viable means of communication with the stranger. Speaking into his translator, he relayed his response back to Rakkal.

"Hello, yes. I'm investigator Pringley with the National Police Agency. We um. Sort of keep law and order in this part of the world." He offered the alien a smile. "It's just your ship, y'see. Too low to the ground. City regulation dictates that all airborne vessels maintain an altitude of at least 2500 feet off the ground during common travel, unless boarding, docking or unloading." He swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. "...extenuating circumstances apply, of course! Perhaps there's something wrong? Something you need help with?" He looked between Rakkal and Tenna curiously, faintly aware of the fact that Tenna had yet to disarm himself. "Do you two... know each other?"

Pringley squinted at the Solitude as it rippled into visibility. Where had he seen the image of that vessel before? It didn't give him a good feeling... not on UCON's wanted list... surely not...

"I don't think he's here for you," Pringley fiddled with his hands, "he's just a visitor, it seems like. He speaks Misranan." He cleared his throat. "Would you um. Would you please put your gun down?"

As he spoke, the agent nonchalantly flipped the same black device from under his belt and snapped a picture of the Solitude before it zipped away.

This did not come as a surprise to Rakkal, however he did not expect to be breaking laws this early into his arrival. With an upward gaze towards his ship, the being would casually shrug. Seconds later, his vessel would almost grown to life, the pectoral fin along its horizontal end would slowly begin to retract, into where was uncertain, and with another thrum of electronic choirs, climbed higher and higher into the atmosphere, going a few more hundred feet past where the officer had asked him to relocate it.

"This one apologizes for the inconvenience it has cost you, Investigator Pringley. It was the furthest thought from our mind when we approached this world." It was truth enough, for the moment. However, that could very well change depending on what the armed being across the street decided to do. His personal code of ethic preached pacifism unless directly threatened, or in the defense of his people's secrets, however, Rakkal did not always adhere to his own rules, and having a weapon aimed at his chest for the last few minutes was quickly grating on his last nerves.

Still, it was far too early to toy with the notion of spilling outworlder blood. Perhaps diplomacy would continue to work for now. With a thought, his suit began to pump his blood system absolutely full of chlorine gas, enough so that this world's atmosphere wouldn't effect him marginally for about a day. Hisses of purple and yellow smoke vented from his suit as Rakkal began to unfasten the series of magnetic locks that held his helmet to the rest of his enviro-suit...

Misranan? That wasn't a language Tenna had heard of before. Hell, he'd never even heard of a planet called Misrana. Still, at the Investigator's words, he lowered his rifle a few inches, pressing a pad on the side of the weapon's furniture that caused the electrical whine it had been emitting to die down into silence. And still, the mercenary couldn't understand a word anything the two said between them.

"You say it's visiting? Well that takes a load off my shoulders. And I wouldn't mi-" His words were cut off as the alien began to remove its helmet, the yellowish gas emitted causing Tenna to back up rapidly. "Chlorine? Really? Lovely...Everyone needs a good dose of lethal gas in the night, right?" He returned to being beside one of the long-dead cars, mouth covered with a swatch of cloth he'd pulled from a pouch on the side of his suit.

"Investigator, you mind getting it to speak a bit of Terran, or at least something we all understand? I'd like to know why the hell it drove me out of the sky and then followed me until I landed."

Pringley cleared his throat, glad that the alien didn't have any immediate hostile intentions. He frowned a bit at the mercenary as he mentioned something about 'driving him out of the sky'. That was curious.

"Uh. This gentleman would like to know..." Pringley took a few steps back, "...why you engaged him with your shuttle and then followed him after he landed..." He still didn't know if these two had any history, but as it stood, it seemed like they were as foreign to each other as he was.

He briefly checked his phone. Still transmitting.

Taking the helmet under his arm, Rakkal would shake his head about for a moment, his black braided hair jingling mildly as the bits of scrap metal that was intertwined within the thickly coiled strands clinked together. The fresh air felt refreshing, if a bit thin on his almost chitinous burgundy and orange skin, and with a deep breath, he would continue to speak, his hot pink eyes blinking rapidly to keep from drying out.

"If the man wishes to know these things, he needed to only ask me. I would have understood all questions eventually, instead of having to settle on this dialect we now use, Investigator." He was only able to use the Maiden while his armor was fully equipped as it were. "And I merely had the notion that he," Rakkal would point a massive limb in the vague direction of the other male, "Would be heading in the direction of the spaceport, or whatever it is your kind and the people of this...planet...use for one, at least. Landing here however, did seem strange. And please understand, I only carry my own weapons as a means of personal safety. If your world has a law against such a thing, I will return them to my ship as quickly as possible."

Rakkal had found in his travels that civility was always a good start to any introduction, and judging from their reactions, it would probably confirm his belief that his kind had never ventured to this planet either. Just how isolated was his home planet.

Tenna stepped back as the alien removed its helmet. While it appeared to be organic, and not the robot he'd worried it could've been, that single fact didn't make him less wary. Nor did the fact that the Investigator kept checking his phone. Even as Tenna began looking for an out, only to be gestured at with an arm the size of his thigh.

Ever the twitchy trigger-finger, Tenna had his pistol sighted instants later, hands steady and breathing calm. Despite how much he didn't want to be there, his combat training had kicked in regardless, and even now he was itching to let the first pellet in his magazine fly true. Only at that thought did he realize what was going on, and through that realization he brought himself to heel, lowering his weapon's aim once more.

He wouldn't be that monster. Not today, at least.

Looking up at the sky, he noticed that stormclouds had begun to gather, promising a long and heavy rain that Wing City likely didn't need. But that was the weather. Always causing problems.

"There's no problem," Pringley nodded, clearly relieved that they were able to work things out peacefully, "Terra gets visitors all the time. You're uh. Free to carry your weapons and stuff so long as they're only used in self defense." He nodded. "Though if you um. Y'know. Plan on staying for a while, you might want to register your guns with the local police department. Different regions have different restrictions on guns n'stuff."

The officer glanced nervously down at his phone as it lit back up, the results of his photograph returning to him. It took every ounce of his meager willpower not to pale as he looked at the data.

Slowly, he raised his eyes back towards Tenna.

"H-hey..." he swallowed, "that... that ship you had earlier..." He did his best to make the question sound nonchalant. "...what... what was it named?"

"If you could point me in the direction of this police department. I do not know how long I will stay here, but it could be for a time. A hub world is a rare thing, and perchance I could find some resources that other planets have been sorely lacking in." Rakkal could feel the nervous tension return to the air. The other male had lowered his weapon and was now staring at the ever darkening sky, perhaps a sign of oncoming weather. It was his best guess.

On his own world, such warning were rare and fortuitous. Disastrous weather could come from nowhere, and completely at random, and if you happened to be outside, it was better you made your peace with the Seven...

Rakkal intended to be away soon, but he would need to know this language the other two spoke before his travel resumed, and he quickly began to re-equip his helmet. The Maiden could not be accessed unless his armor was entirely adorned, and he could no have the newer alphabet cipher added to his vocabulary until he did so. His movements were slow and methodical, and the towering alien had still not yet powered down his rifle. Once again; Rakkal was no fool.

Tenna looked at Pringley, his gaze a bit cool.

"Her name's Solitude. I take it your database finally found out which one it was? You've only been glancing at your phone every few moments, so I assumed that's what you might've been doing. A mercenary can never be too careful. Anything you need to know about her, or were you just curious about her name." He shifted how he was standing, narrowing how much of his body was presented to the larger man. He twitched his fingers slightly, the urge to fire his weapon rising once more.

And still there wasn't an out. Shooting the officer would only make things worse, considering that it would likely cause them to send a Sanctifier out after him. That was something he would do well to avoid, unless he was already in his ship with weapons primed and waiting. That and with the alien re-donning his helmet, an extra layer of armor to keep it safe, Tenna knew that shooting the creature would be even less helpful to his escape.

Not to mention he'd sent his only form of transportation away to keep it and it's secrets safe.

He sighed and grumbled a bit of nonsense under his breath, then looked back at the sky. There would definitely be rain. He hated the rain. It always fucked with his suit and telemetry. Luckily, his weapons would be unaffected, despite how intricate they were.

"Oh, sure thing!" the agent's fingers flew back over his phone. "Here, I'll transmit the coordinates to your ship. Just stop by whenever, there's uh. There's really no rush."

He looked back to Tenna now. The cards were on the table.

"Anything you need to know about her, or were you just curious about her name?"

"Well um. Actually." Pringley struggled to bring himself upright. He suddenly looked surprisingly taller - as if he'd been hunching the whole while and had only just dared to erect his full height. The prospect of confronting a wanted man, it seemed, did not do much to intimidate the otherwise bumbling NPA agent. Perhaps it was the adrenaline coursing through his body - banishing his timidity and fear. Perhaps it was a higher sense of duty - this was more than just a simple traffic violation, this was a bounty. It was his responsibility to apprehend this man, whatever the cost to his own life.

Or, perhaps, agent Pringley was not quite as small as he looked.

"I'm actually wondering why there's a 5,000,000 Cay bounty on that ship," he nodded, "yeah. That's uh. That's what I'm wondering right about now."