Blue Heaven Docks and Maintenance

Belle observed the guards as they engaged in hushed conversations among themselves, their expressions tense and their voices low. She couldn't help but wonder if her presence had something to do with their unease. Were her unusual features causing them distress? Maybe they didn't realize she could change her appearance. Perhaps she hadn't communicated that it was an option? She had little actual experience with this whole social thing but she darn well wanted to be better at it. She, at the least shared in their confusion on what neoprimordial meant.

With a playful smile, and raised hands, Belle tried to put them at ease, despite her sharp teeth. The effect of this in the past had, well, mixed results on her observers.

As Miiya had recovered a more stable rhythm and seemed out of the worst of it, to Belle's relief. She was more She seemed to get the guards to relax, at least somewhat, and while certainly not spiteful towards current company, the offer of a less tense environment was appealing, to say the least. She nodded her head in agreement.

"Wait, GeneCorp?" Bashemath asked, a bit of confusion in her voice. She could be heard speaking with indistinct voices in the background, shortly before communicator turned off.

Station Security
The fewer detainees the guards had to deal with, the better, as far as they were concerned. Remanding the giant rat and the two corpers to GeneCorp custody was fine with them. The remaining four guards would escort Miiya, Aishe, and Belle to GeneCorp if that is where all three wanted to go.

Miiya Aether
“Great!” Miiya chirped. “C’mon Aishe, let’s get back!” She forced a cheerful demeanor for Belle and Aishe’s sake. The wild pursuit had left the Aeros a bit battered and her thigh was throbbing fiercely. I can walk. I’ll get it looked at when we get back. She thought to herself, gritting her teeth and trying to keep her limp less pronounced as security escorted them back to the main concourse.

Aishe
The human girl followed her winged minder without saying much.
(To: Airlocks and Checkpoint)

Belle LeTroix has left the area, heading in towards Blue Heaven Airlocks and Checkpoint.

Tetsuo Demaru has arrived, coming from Blue Heaven Airlocks and Checkpoint.

Tetsuo stumbled his way onto the docks, reassuring the staff that he doesn't intend to drive under the influence of alcohol, not like he cares. He was tapping at his watch again, which, as it turns out is really more a wrist-mounted computer that has access to his personal database. He had been hovering over a particular page for a long while, of a primordial goddess who has become the subject of his obsession. Along the side he started to flip through a long list of patients, some of their ID numbers in red.

He then raised his head and, standing before the light freighter Delfye was working on. He grinned and held up his hand.

"Ahoy there! Quite the adventure you had earlier, heh!? Have you seen this, by the by?" He said in a loud voice before pushing something on his wrist computer, projecting an informational 3D display of a large ring-tailed creature.

Miiya Aether has arrived, coming from Blue Heaven Airlocks and Checkpoint.

Delfye

The sammaran was elbow deep in the guts of engine number one of the Conestoga class freighter, inspiringly christened “AC-13”, which GeneCorp had signed over to him. This left him some fifteen feet off the ground, above the inebriated vagrant who had stumbled up from the Airlocks. He poked his head over the side of the engine cowling at Tetsuo’s hail. ”Ahoy there, yourself!“ He called back, chuckling at the archaic nautical term. He thought about remotely closing the hatch to AC-13 so the drunkard couldn’t go rummaging around inside.

When Tetsuo displayed an image of Belle, Delfye decided there was no need. This guy’s after rat-face? He wondered to himself how the man had made the connection between the neoprimoridal and himself. ”Yep! Seen it--headed to GeneCorp as far as I know.“ He replied amicably. Delfye had no reason to withhold the information, and every reason to want this stumble bum stumblin’ off somewhere else.

Miiya Aether
(From: The Checkpoint)

“HEY! Kveckhead! Not enough to steal my ward and lose me my job; now you’ve gotta steal my friend too!?” Miiya shouted, approaching from behind. She interrupted Delfye’s and Tetsuo’s conversation by hucking her broken PED at the cyborg working on the rusty-looking vessel. Aeros eyesight and aim were both evolved to be much more accurate than most humans’, and Miiya was a good shot for an Aeros, so her broken commpak skipped right off Delfye’s dome, just as she had intended; hard enough to surprise and hurt, but not enough to do damage or knock him off his perch. Maybe. Don’t really care. Miiya thought, baring her teeth at the cyborg pilot.

”Fukin shit! “ Delfeye shouted in surprise as he just about fell into the intake of engine number one, from the surprise impact. ”Kid! What the hell!?“ He yelled.

Miiya launched from the ground and alighted on the engine nacelle next to Delfye. “Where’s Belle!?” She growled.

Delfye glowered at the Aeros girl, nonplussed that his elevation was no refuge from her fury or her tiny fists. ”What are you talking about? Who?“

“Belle: Your big stripey-tailed passenger!” She stuck a finger in the pilot’s face. “Don’t pretend you don’t know who I’m talking about! I saw her listed on your manifest!” Miiya ignored Tetsuo for the moment, though she was certainly shouting loud enough for him to feel included in the conversation.

Delfye made a confused noise, rubbed the knot forming on his head, and considered his options. He wasn’t going to hit a child, he didn’t want to get hit by a little girl (again), and shoving a winged person off her perch wasn’t likely to have much effect. Also, maybe she’d stumble off with the bum if he was compliant.

“I thought rat-face was with you. It’s name is Belle? Sheesh, why’s everyone suddenly so interested in it all of a sudden?” He appeared to stare into space as he brought up his cargo list from GeneCorp. ”Belle… LeTroix? It’s not big, and if it’s got a striped tail, I wouldn’t know.“ He protested. ”It’s that box down the--HEY!“ Delfye shouted again as Miiya dropped from the engine to the ground, grabbed the box atop the small pile of cargo on a loading pallet, and started shredding the “VOID IF OPENED” GeneCorp tape wrapping the container. ”Don’t open that!“ He protested. ”I already scanned it! It’s just a--“

Miiya landed next to Tetsuo, giving him a pretty good dusting with her downdraft. That was rude as hell, but she was too focused on finding her friend for politeness. The Aeros Girl recognized Belle’s communicator as she opened the box. “This is hers! Where is she?! What have you done with her!?” Another jump, two more flaps, which would blow back Tetsuo’s hair pretty good, and Miiya was right back up in Delfye’s face. Normally such little hops wouldn’t tire her out, but she was spent from the morning’s events, not yet having recovered from storm dancing. She was also running a pretty good calorie deficit for the day and the effects of too little food were starting to tell. Even so, she was ready to stop talking and start hitting if Delfye didn’t come up with an answer she deemed sufficient.

”Ahh… fuck me. That communicator belongs to your rat friend?“ Delfye wiped his hands on a rag. ”That explains a lot.“

“She’s not a rat!” Miiya growled. At least, she didn’t think so. More like a marmot. “WHAT does it explain? Where is she?!”

Delfye started to say something, then paused. He looked askance at the Aeros girl perched on the engine nacelle before him. ”How old are you?“

“What the frett’s that matter? I’m twenty-four. My people run small; flight, ya know.!” She lied, rather unconvincingly. Miiya louvered her feathers for effect. It was supposed to make her look bigger.

Delfye clicked his tongue. Before becoming a sammaran, he would have considered this no skin off his nose. The more hassle he threw at GeneCorp, the better for him. But this kid looked to be getting in way over her head, for whatever reason. He had already gleaned--from her words, blotchy face, and red-rimmed eyes, that she had been fired from GeneCorp. That meant both her and Aishe could be quit of the corporation. Why foul that up for them? His time was measured in weeks. He didn’t need to carry any more blots on his soul into the next life. If there was a next life. ”Nah, go home kid. You’re out of your depth.“

Delfye leaned over the side of the ship again and called down to Tetsuo: ”Yeah, it’s like I said.“ Rat-face was at GeneCorp for sure. Probably being dissected as they spoke. Delfye wasn’t stupid, he’d scanned the cargo the ‘corper’s wanted him to carry, and picked up the subspace beacon from the communicator. GeneCorp had put the neoprimordial on his cargo manifest to be “returned” to Deep-17, stashed her locator collar--or whatever that communicator was--in his cargo, and would ice him the moment he lifted off. Then they could keep what was left of Belle and leave D-17 without a legal leg to stand on. Intercorp--Delfye’s old employer--had often employed similar tactics. Of course, the sammaran wasn’t going to share any of this with Miiya or Tetsuo.

With his hair disheveled and specks of dust and debris in his face, he sputtered and waved his hair aside, all the while silently eavesdropping on their conversation, idly picking at his chin and pecking his forehead as he pondered his next move. He chose to bide his time, waiting until their heated argument had run its course. The verbal exchange between the Aeros and the cyborg struck him as oddly amusing, and he leaned back for another swig from his bottle. Then, a sudden realization washed over him, causing him to drop the bottle in surprise, letting it shatter on the ground, his reaction punctuated by a sharp sputter.

"GeneCorp!? GeneCorp has her!?" he erupted in fury, his voice filled with righteous anger and disbelief. He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair, making a concerted effort to sober his thoughts enough to formulate, and then took a sharp, deep inhale through his nose. With renewed determination, he slicked back his black hair, focusing his thoughts on the task at hand. He then raised his hands and "Okay, sooooo~! I get it now. What you are telling me is that a bunch of corporate morons currently have hold of what is the most major cornerstone of my research, likely to make some stupid product of some sort as the visionless hacks they are! And you, yoooou!"

Tetsuo paced around to the side of the freighter, pointing up at Delfye. "You, my DE-addicted friend, are the cover story," he declared, his tone laced with a mix of urgency and cunning. He placed a hand on his chin, deep in contemplation once more, as he weighed his options and considered the best course of action. He extended a finger, pointing at Miiya. "And the young one is correct, she's not a rat... gold star!" He continued, his tone lightening as he explained, "Her genetic structure is very similar to human but has evolved a third strand which acts as a complex modifier so the genetic structure doesn't collapse the foundation as the body changes according to her desires. Stable selective mutation. "The intriguing part is that she has an O negative blood type, and when applied to humans, it—oh, there I go again," he muttered, cutting himself off with a self-deprecating shake of his head. "Anyways! Best of luck being the fall guy. I'm off to orchestrate a hostile takeover!" he announced with a wry grin, his eccentric personality shining through once more as he embarked on his next endeavor.

Miiya

That was that. No matter how much Miiya threatened, wheedled, or cajoled, Delfye was done talking to her. Despite her insistence, Miiya couldn’t find it in herself to beat the answers out of the mechanic, and the Sammaran didn’t respond to her petty annoyances as he went about readying the ship for launch. Fortunately, the strange-looking rando, she had (kinda rudely) dusted, connected the dots for her.

“Wait!” Miiya hopped down from the engine nacelle and landed in front of Tetsuo. “Belle never left GeneCorp?” Miiya’s brow furrowed as she bit her lip and tried to bend her brain around that idea. Tetsuo had called Delfye the “fall guy”, which meant that Belle was on his manifest--and her communicator was in his cargo--as a decoy. Which had totally worked on her, she realized, with more than a little embarrassment. Was this guy being sarcastic when he had awarded her a “gold star”?

Well, if the weirdo was going to help Belle, then Miiya wanted to go with him. “Let me come with you! I can… I can get you in!” She stated. “My GeneCorp ID should still work--and I know the place really well.” She lied. She knew the youth program dormitories and some of the office space really well. She doubted they’d find Belle there, but it was at least a start.

Delfye
Did he have a dog in this fight? The sammaran wasn’t sure. He really ought to just let the featherbrain go off with the drunken vagrant. What was the worst that could happen?

…meh, it was all pretty bad, with getting disappeared by GeneCorp being one of the better outcomes. Then again, what did Delfye owe Miiya besides a fat lip and a black eye?

…a fat lip, black eye, and some knocked-out teeth she’d given him in misguided defense of Aishe--true. The Master would tell him that his obligations only extended as far as he felt they did. ”God fuckin dammit!“ He growled. Buddhism sucks.

”Don’t be stupid, kid.“ Delfye leaned over the side and called down, resolved to at least try to head off this disaster. ”GeneCorp owns this rock. You and your homeless friend have zero chance going up against them.“ He asserted. ”Even if you can break fuzz-face free, she sticks out like a sore thumb. Blue Heaven’s not big enough to hide a giant space rat for long.“

Miiya

“You’ve got a ship.” Miiya observed. “You could get us off Blue Heaven.” She stated boldly. ”…and take us to Deep-17!” This she suggested with a hesitant glance over at Tetsuo. Was this guy from D-17? Belle had mentioned them, and Tetsuo knew her, so… it made sense, right?

Delfye’s laugh was more of a humorless bark. ”Yeah, I’ve got a ship, but no and ---- no!“ He replied.

“Hey! You owe me! And you can’t leave without her onboard. You said they’d blow you up, otherwise.” Miiya insisted. The Aeros girl wasn’t so sure Delfye owed her any such thing, but--hey--he HAD stolen her friend and gotten her fired. None of this mess would have happened if he hadn’t abducted Aishe.

”They’ll try.“ Delfye snorted derisively. The kid wasn’t totally wrong, but having Belle onboard might not make a difference. Delfye had found and disarmed the two bombs he was supposed to find plus the one he wasn’t. He’d also discovered and reversed the sabotage done to the ship before they turned it over to him. That GeneCorp had bothered meant they had a backup plan--probably telling the Aschen he had a rogue Xeno onboard so they’d try to blow him out of the stars. Even so, he figured he had 60/40 odds of getting through the jump gate before the Aschen could shoot through X-13’s armor. The Conestogas were tough old birds, and Delfye knew how to fly them. Well, I hope I found all the sabotage. He thought.

GeneCorp had put a million credits in an escrow account. The first half would be deposited when he undocked. That deal was probably voided if he made himself and his ship accessories to stealing the neoprimordial. ”I don’t owe you shit, except maybe a fat lip. You think I’m gonna walk away from half-a-million credits for you and your space mouse, you got another think coming.“

”So, here’s a better plan; why don’t you just fuck off, and let this dipshit die trying to jailbreak your furry friend so he can invent a better kind of shampoo?“ Delfye suggested.

"I'm a drunk, not homel—wait, you've got a working ID?" Tetsuo muttered, his curiosity and interest growing as he spun around to Miiya. He then rubbed his chin thoughtfully, considering the possibilities. While he had no knowledge of the layout of GeneCorp, having access to a functioning ID card could save him from resorting to explosive methods to enter. "Okay, that would eliminate the need to bust in through the front door," he acknowledged, nodding at the potential advantage.

As he considered his options and observed Delfye's apparent reluctance to assist, he came to the conclusion that he didn't truly require the assistance of either Delfye or the winged girl. If Belle was the same as she was back then, she'd be less than cooperative if a child was harmed. Moreover, he had reservations about relying on Delfye, who must to be near the end of his DE supply and likely had only a few months left to live. That stuff wasn't made anymore since Intercorp was now defunct. His brow furrowed. The notion of a potentially incurable disease caused by corporate interests irked the rogue doctor, almost as if it were a direct challenge he couldn't resist.

With a sense of determination, he pulled up his wrist device and began to tap furiously at its holo-display, initiating a thorough search on DE addiction and the drug DE itself, driven by the need to understand the intricacies of the situation he found himself in.

As he delved into his research with a sly smile slowly creeping across his face, he couldn't help but ponder the unusual circumstances of Delfye's presence. He mused aloud, "Now, why does a man of your pedigree even bother coming all the way out here? People typically come here to party, to club around, maybe seek job opportunities or simply get lucky. Interestingly, none of those seem to quite fit you. Surely, it wasn't business, as this arrangement was recent. There has to be... ahhh, the one last deed."

His speculative remark hinted at a deeper motive or mission that had brought Delfye to this place, one that intrigued him as he continued his research on DE addiction.

Delfye

The sammaran sighed as his two problems refused to take his advice and depart. Oh well, what--really--did he have to lose by being a little more civil? Closing up the access panel, Delfye descended from the side of the ship to the floor of the dock and made his way over to Tetsuo.

”What’s it to you?“ The pilot asked. His tone was no longer offensive or annoyed, just resigned. He really could not fathom what interest this person could possibly have in his condition, nor did he really want to discuss it. ”I’m just marking time.“ He said.

It did not take Tetsuo a deep dive to uncover the details of the Intercorp “mind control” drug Dark Eyes (DE). The substance had been developed with similar intent as many “super soldier” serums, and joined thousands of others in the dustbin of history. It was meant to speed cognition, reaction time, and actual physical fast-and-slow-twitch muscle speed. Further, it was supposed to instill total loyalty in addicts.

The drug was a two-part course, the first dose of which rather ham-handedly rewrote the subject’s DNA using the ancient technique of retrovirus delivery. The subject would then be able to operate on a vastly-accelerated time scale--not just their cognition, but also their physical speed--when supplied with the second course of DE.

The second course was an ongoing sustainer drug to keep the altered cells from degenerating. It took the place of adenosine triphosphate synthesized by the altered mitochondria. A relatively small amount of the drug would allow the addict to live without food or sleep. Larger amounts would provide accelerated and enhanced perception and speed. It also provided an altered state of mind with neural receptors flooded by an enhanced form of synthetic endorphin--promoting ecstasy in users while muting signals from pain receptors.

A sustained lack of the second course of DE injections would result in cellular degeneration and, eventually, death.
DE was partially successful in granting addicts enhanced speed and perception. Fresh users could move fast enough to dodge most projectile weapons, besides laser and other speed-of-light or high-hypersonic systems. It did engender loyalty inasmuch as the addict would do whatever it took to secure more DE--as an involuntary function. Addicts could no more resist commands that would be rewarded with DE than could a non-addict stop their own heart from beating. They were resistant to physical damage, and retained most of their humanity--both in form and thought--with the only obvious indication of their addiction being blackened sclera, and unconcern with matters other than acquiring and injecting more DE.

DE had many drawbacks. Addicts needed larger and larger doses in order to generate enhanced speed and perception. The average utility of a DEA after injection was three-to-five years with regular use. Once altered, DE cells did not replicate except to replace damaged tissue. This was intentional, so as to ensure that there would be no way to reverse the genetic rewrite or “cure” an addict.

The innate loyalty of DE addiction was to the sustainer injections, and not necessarily the Intercorp agent who held the drug. This necessitated extreme safety measures be implemented around DEA’s, lest they kill their handler and steal the supply. Only a very narrow population were good candidates for DE; low enough in intelligence and creative problem-solving to avoid going rogue, but clever enough to operate autonomously--and to remember complicated instructions--during periods of dosing, as their handlers could not react fast enough to give out orders on an addict’s time scale.

DEA’s saw use as enforcers within Intercorp, and as assassins and brute-force corporate espionage external to the corporation. DE also saw limited use as a torture and terror device during interrogations. In the end--due to the unstable nature of DEAs, as well as ICON declaring the administration of DE (voluntarily or involuntarily) to be a human rights violation, Intercorp canceled the DE program in favor of their Genetically-Engineered Sentient (GES) soldier corps. The resources consumed by the failed DE program, and the revolt of a prototype GES were major contributors to the corporation's eventual bankruptcy and termination of operations.

That had been over a decade ago. Footnotes in Tetsuo’s documentation would note that the last stockpiles of DE were thought to have been destroyed at least a decade ago, and all DEAs were now long-dead, as neither stasis nor cryosleep worked on their altered physiology.

Tetsuo’s wrist display would come up with some pretty graphic and gruesome imagery of addicts deprived of DE. Neural degeneration led to a zombie-like state where addicts would search mindlessly for DE while their bodies decayed. Since it was injected into neurons, and the optic nerve was the most common injection site, there were a lot of images of gouged-out eyes--both of addicts and their victims.

”Enjoying some light reading?“ Delfye inquired, looking over Tetsuo’s shoulder. ”That’s what’s coming; thanks for the reminder.“ The sammaran said with more than a touch of sarcasm.

Miiya
While Tetsuo and Delfye were distracted, Miiya decided to check out the AC-13. Just as she had his previous suggestion, she ignored Delfye’s half-hearted (she thought) demand to: ”Stay outta my ship!“ and wandered up the loading ramp.

“Hey! You’ve got plenty of room in here for us!” The cargo hauler was not small. It had a cockpit with seating for three. There was a central pressurized cabin with benches, a compact galley, and lavatory. Access tunnels ran to rear and ventral defensive turrets as well as a cramped engine room. The passageways had alcoved bunks for a crew of six.

Miiya didn’t spend long exploring, she wanted to make sure that Tetsuo did not leave without her. She was nonplussed by the man’s appearance and apparent inebriation, but he was Belle’s… friend? and they seemed to share a common goal of freeing her from GeneCorp. Better go talk to him--despite how weird he is. She resolved.

“Ech.” Miiya caught sight of the images Tetsuo was perusing. “Gross.” She hoped he wasn’t looking that stuff up for fun. “So… Belle’s human?” She asked. “She sure doesn’t look it! What sort of a mutation is that?” Then, figuring some prompting might help, she introduced herself. “I’m Miiya, by the way.” The girl stuck out a hand, though she expected the gesture to be ignored. “I’m an Aeros. See? Wings. She gave a little turn to display her folded flight appendages--not that anyone could have missed them, with all the jumping and flapping she had been doing of late. She kept her prosthetic wingtip covered by the feathers of the wing that was still whole. “You got any fun mutations?” She inquired of Delfye and Tetsuo.

Tetsuo continued to peruse the information about DE addiction, seemingly undisturbed by the graphic imagery on his wrist display. As Delfye approached and commented on the grim future that awaited him, Tetsuo gave a wry smile and replied with a shrug, "Ah, well, we can't all be winners in life, can we?" He then frowned up and furrowed his brow as his arms dropped and then rolled his head around to the side then rubbed his chin. "Though, don't accept being a loser either. It's unbecoming. But seriously, retrovirus delivery? I've surpassed that decades ago! Might as well be smashing rocks together and calling that science! ATP analog, though?"

His fingers danced furiously against his brow, a symphony of thought conducted by a mind immersed in contemplation. Unbeknownst to him, or simply ignored, the Aeros girl had ventured once again into the AC-13. As the gears of Tetsuo's genius whirred and clicked, he muttered to himself, "Adenosine Tetraphosphate...? Hm?"

Turning toward the Aeros girl, he was briefly puzzled by her apparent reemergence. She had inquired about Belle, a topic he was more than eager to indulge, and with a deft motion of his wrist, Tetsuo summoned a complex set of charts and diagrams from his device, a visual exposition of his thoughts.

"Not in the conventional sense, no," he began, his voice carrying a note of excitement as he embarked on a scientific explanation. "I suppose it would be more akin to a new attempt at the human concept, or a parallel of humanity. The true abnormality lies in her evolution, which is selective and, I dare say, rapid. It's as if her very existence and mental state are interwoven, a choice-driven phenomenon rather than a gradual process. In simpler terms, think of it as shape-shifting, though her transformation defies the boundaries of conventional understanding. Regeneration too, you could theoretically cut off her tail and reattach it! Don't look at me like that. It has profound applications! That third strand in her DNA is the bridge together previously imposs- er, do you know what a chimera is?"

Tetsuo paused, sobering, his scientific curiosity piqued once more as he observed the Aeros girl's distinctive features. His eyes traveled over her wings, and a spark of recognition illuminated his expression. He tilted his head to the side, his mind racing to grasp the intricacies of her unique biology.

"Oh... oh!" he exclaimed, a sense of wonder in his voice. "Avian and human? How extraordinary! It's remarkable how they function, with a lightened bone bass and a meticulous readjustment of muscular growth? And that wingspan! It must've taken bioengineering a while to-," He couldn't help but admire the elegant design and functionality of her avian-human hybrid traits. "You see, my colleagues thought the concept of flying humans were stupid, I thought that making predatory dinosaurs stronger and smarter was stupid... guess who won that argument?" He was cut off on his rant when she asked about fun mutations.

"Well," he began with shrug and grin, "I must admit, I've tinkered a bit here and there using Belle as the basis of my research. Hit-and-miss... sadly, much of my notes were lost, been trying to reconstruct everything from memory, but being in stasis also muddies memory. I've given myself a test run, though! Yet to see the desired results... But I must say, being born hunched and having a limp in my right leg, I now stand upright and can dance with the best of them! Progress!"

Delfye

”Dafuq you know about it?“ The sammaran muttered. Tetsuo’s comment struck a nerve, despite the last few years meditating and working away the feeling of helplessness brought on by his chemical dependency. Delfye had tried to make peace with the idea that he was not, and would never again be, master of his own destiny. Early in his addiction, he tried to kill himself rather than betray those close to him for a hit of DE. He found that it was impossible. He couldn’t eat a bolt or bullet, couldn’t step into a combustion chamber or jet behind fusion exhaust in a MMU. Anything less was nonlethal to a DEA. The drug would let him maul himself pretty well, but he could do nothing that would result in no more Dark Eyes. The same was true for those who attacked DEA’s.

He had managed--one time--to set up a complicated series of events that fooled his traitorous brain into letting him blow himself out of an airlock, but Intercorp had simply scooped him right back up and put him back in service moments--and a restorative shot of DE--later.

Delfye welcomed death, but it would have to come from somewhere other than his own hand. He had a few months left, so long as he kept the urge to dose suppressed, and in that time he needed to find a how and a who to end him, before he became an eye-gobbling zombie. He had a vague idea it would have to be done when his reserves were critically low--too low to dose properly. Critical damage, imminent death, those caused him to dose autonomously--speed up and focus down until he could watch the dance of molecules; could rearrange the world around him so there would be more Dark Eyes for him. He’d left more than one body behind who had tried to help him with his life problem, some of them had been strangers, and some of them had been people he loved knew, all of them haunted him.

The pilot’s dark thoughts were exacerbated by the young Aeros mucking about in his ship, and then asking if he had any “fun” mutations. Gritting his teeth and suppressing the twitch of his right hand toward the DE reservoir, Delfye replied; ”Oh yeah, mine’s a real barrel of laughs.“

Delfye’s control slipped a little, and he made a snap decision. It was petty. It was mean. But maybe it would turn out for good. ”Alright, kid, you really want a berth? Follow me.” He said abruptly when Tetsuo had finished complimenting her physiology and revealing that he had restored his dancing abilities with SCIENCE!

Delfye led Miiya aboard the AC-13 and back to the aft turret. He did not invite Tetsuo, but if the man came along, the pilot would not complain. “Put this on.“ He snapped at Miiya, as he squatted to check the hydraulics.

Miiya

The Aeros girl was not really following even Tetsuo’s simplified-for-laymen explanation of Belle’s nature. She had heard the term Chimera and shapeshifters were pretty common, but the rest was greek to her. She blushed a little--though her dark complexion masked it--as Tetsuo complimented her physiology. Well, he’s complimenting the geneticists that made my people, but it’s still nice of him to say. Miiya smiled and gave him a rundown of her aviating capacity. There were actually tables of gravities, atmospheric compositions, and pressures that determined her flight range, but it was simpler just to say: “I can fly in up to one-point-three gee’s, and down to about half a bar of pressure… ya know, depending. ” Miiya needed a certain partial pressure of oxygen in order to breathe, but her range was beyond that of unmodified humans.

Miiya liked to fly. She liked to talk about flying, probably almost as much as Tetsuo liked to go on about incomprehensible gobbledegook . Miiya listened as he talked about tinkering with his own genetics to correct some physical deformities. “Yeah!” She agreed, enthusiastically, when the doctor cried “Progress!”

Now we’re getting somewhere! Miiya thought, as Delfye invited her back aboard the AC-13. This tub needs a new name. She thought, as she ducked inside and followed him down the passage to the aft gunnery station.

“What? Why?” The Aeros girl took the helmet Delfye handed her and looked at it.

”You wanna throw your life away, at least do something useful with your last few minutes. I could use a tail gunner; let’s see if you can shoot.“ The annoyed Sammaran replied.

“Oh. O-okay.” Miiya stammered, surprised by his abrupt turnabout. “Shoot, like, people?”

”People inside spaceships, yeah. Is that a problem?“ Delfye demanded, nastily. Of course it was a problem. In spite of her lies, this little guttersnipe wasn’t much past sixteen, if that. There were child warriors in the Multiverse--but they were in the employ of monsters. Delfye was a monster, but not that kind of monster. He was no despotic warlord; he wasn’t going to rip out a kid’s soul over some credits--but he would make her think he would. Maybe then she’ll **** off.” ”Strap in. We’ll run a sim and see how many fighter pilots you can murder.“

Miiya looked at the helmet in her hands, then at the gunnery station. It was just a simulation, right? When it came down to it, she could always shoot to miss. The Aeros girl took a breath. “Okay, let's do it!” She glared defiantly at Delfye as she donned the helmet and climbed into the turret controls.

The gunnery helmet was an Augmented Reality display. She had played plenty of games with similar headsets--not in real gunnery stations with actual weapon controls at her fingertips, but she quickly got the gist. When Delfye told her to follow the onscreen prompts, she did so easily, flipping the relays and pushing the buttons--indicated by her helmet--to power up the Ionic Pulse Cannon. Her seat was directly over the acceleration chamber of the cannon, it vibrated unsteadily and the air inside the turret started heating up. “Hey, is this thing supposed to actually be on?” Her AR display read “simulation” and the scenery displayed had abruptly shifted to mimic space around Blue Heaven, but it felt like the cannon was ready for live fire.

“What? Quit complaining and run the sim!” Delfye’s voice was muffled, echoing from another part of the ship. ”If you can’t score at least 40 percent accuracy, you’re off my ship! Get shooting!“

Simulated fightercraft appeared in her helmet, and Miiya pivoted the turret to take aim at the nearest ship. “Woa!!” She yelped in surprise as the turret moved. She hadn’t expected that in a simulation. Delfye wasn’t saying anything and the incoming fighters were firing simulated particle beams at her. Miiya lined up her shot and squeezed the triggers.

BA-WOMP!

The discharge of the Ion Pulse Cannon inside the station was deafening. Miiya felt the ship lurch under her. There was no chance to line up on the second target as the sensation of tumbling and then free-fall yanked her from side-to-side in her seat.

“JESUS FUCKING WEPT KID, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?!” Delfye’s voice crackled clearly over her headset. “YOU JUST BLEW A HOLE IN THE STATION OUTER WALL!!” Delfye sounded busy. Abruptly Miiya’s view of the simulation faded to a confusion of debris. The ship was tumbling in a rapidly-dispersing cloud of atmosphere. As the station rotated into view, the gaping hole blown in the docks by the Pulse Cannon could be seen, glowing with an emergency containment field.

“I’m sorry!! I’m sorry!! I didn’t know the gun was live!!” Miiya cried frantically. “What-what do I do now!?” She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw bodies in the tumbling debris surrounding them. Miiya’s heart was pumping madly and she had a death grip on the cannon yoke.

”You DIDN’T toggle the controls to SIM!!? Shit! We’re in it now! Fighters inbound! I’ve gotta get the engines started! See if we can jump out before we get killed!“ Delfye answered. “Shoot anything that looks unfriendly, but don’t fucking shoot the station again!!”

The discharge of the cannon must have lit up the Aschen screens, because their Combat Space Patrol vectored in on AC-13 almost immediately. It was a busy environment with other ships scrambling to get away from the explosion. The Aschen showed atypical restraint, making an identification pass before turning and coming in weapons hot.

“Frett! Frett! Frett!” Miiya breathed as she yanked the gunnery station’s harness as tight as it would go, then used the yoke and pedals to line up a shot on the nearest fighter. This is real! I just…! I’m gonna…!! She squeezed the triggers. The pulse cannon was quieter in vacuum, but it was not quiet. The shot went downrange and skipped off the Aschen fighter, causing its shields to flare briefly. Both the CSP fighters responded by opening fire. The ship shook with impacts, then there was a stomach-twisting lurch as Delfye got the engines lit and threw them into a corkscrewing maneuver down closer to the bulk of the asteroid.

Miiya was able to keep track of the pursuing fighters and lined up several more ineffective shots. Meanwhile, the Aschen seemed to burn right through whatever shields their freighter carried. Bits of molten metal and chunks of rusted plating spun away as the ship juddered under fire. “Get those fighters off us! Shoot them, you little idiot!!”

“I AM!! It’s not doing anything to them!!” Miiya screeched, bouncing another pair of ion pulses off the nose of the nearest fighter. It was practically on top of them now.

“That gun’s thirty-year-old salvage! You think it’s going to do anything against military-grade shielding!?” Delphye yelled back, continuing to put the ship through wild maneuvers in an attempt to keep from losing a critical system to the gunfire. “Just keep them distracted!!”

Miiya shut up and shot. The turret was blazing hot from the overheating ion accelerator, she was yanked up, right, left, and down--alternately pressed into the saddle or slammed against the restraints of the gunnery station. Sometimes the direction of acceleration decoupled from what she was seeing. Is the grav damper failing?! Even so, she tracked the lead fighter with precision, putting shot after shot into it. Abruptly, the Aschen fighter’s shields collapsed and Miiya’s subsequent shot tore right through the canopy. Miiya felt her guts twist in ways that had nothing to do with the wild flight. She had caught sight of the pilot a split second before she pulled the trigger for the fatal blast. The image of the last instant of life of the man she had killed stayed with her even as the damaged fighter peeled off and started to tumble. “I got--I got one.” She almost whispered. Something inside her went numb, had to go numb, because she wanted to live! I’m sorry! I want to live!! She thought, as she kicked the turret around to target the dead pilot’s wingman.

“Four more coming in! ” Delfye warned, as a second CSP arrived on station and blazed within firing range. They were skimming the old mining pits around Blue Heaven, Delfye was trying to use the asteroid and equipment as cover enough to sprint to the jump gate, but the Aschen were swarming now. “We’re not gonna make it! ...I’m sorry kid.” The voice in her ear was filled with resignation.

Dozens of contacts filled Miiya’s screen. Alarms sounded and warnings flashed in her vision, but she did not have time to read them. Shoot as many as possible! Make them break off! Maybe we can… “No!! Delfye!!! I--” A shot struck just behind the turret, Miiya’s canopy cracked, sparks exploded from the pulse cannon’s hardware. She screamed, but never released her grip on the cannon’s dead controls as a second shot struck the unshielded canopy

and the world went pure white.

…then the inside of the turret slowly faded back into view. Outside, a cargo transport pod rolled past on the undisturbed floor of the docks.

Delfye

Returning from where Miiya was strapping herself into the aft gun, Delfye headed up to the cockpit. If Tetsuo had come aboard, he would motion for the geneticist to follow. “Watch this.” The pilot took the flight engineer’s seat and powered up the ship’s gravity generators. He logged in to Miiya’s AR helmet and overlaid a simulation of the exterior of the station on her field of view. With his other hand, he cranked the environmental controls to “hot” in the rear turret and put the ion chamber of the cannon through a gas purge cycle. “That’ll make it feel like the real thing.” He said, maybe to Tetsuo, maybe to himself. Delfye loaded a second sim--this one starting them in the interior of the docks--and prepared to swap to the horrifying sim when Miiya took her first shot.

If Tetsuo was present, he would warn him: “You might want to buckle up.” The ship only had one grav generator, and he was about to use it to put them all through Mister Toad’s Wild Ride. “Here’s what she’s seeing.” Delfye pointed to the screen in front of him. The Conestoga class was only a few years shy of being a museum piece and its cockpit didn’t have holodisplays. He split the screen to show an image of Miiya nearly falling out of the gunner’s saddle as she engaged the turret controls. A speaker beside the monitor gave a tinny replication of an ion pulse cannon discharge. Delfye keyed his speaker and shouted at Miiya for “blowing a hole in the station!”

Delfye got a bit busy then, loading targets and aggressors into Miiya’s sim, joggling the grav generators, and shouting at the kid. If Tetsuo was strapped in nearby, he’d be slammed against his harness as gravity reversed and fluctuated in multiple stomach-wrenching directions. If he wasn’t strapped in, then he would likely be doing a pretty authentic impression of a ping-pong ball.

During a particularly energetic bout of corkscrewing accelerations, Delfye pointed to the simulation window next to where the Aeros girl was fighting the cannon controls and swiveling the aft turret wildly. “You wanna give it a go?” He asked after putting his hand over his microphone. “It’s pretty fun.” Tetsuo had not been present when Miiya had beaten the stuffing out of Delfye, so he might be forgiven for not understanding the fun of tormenting her with imminent simulated death and wanton destruction. Then again, perhaps the scientist had a sadistic streak, and would appreciate the indulgence.

Eventually, whether Tetsuo joined in or not, Delfye ended the simulation with overwhelming odds destroying their ship. He shut down the gravity generator and powered down the turret controls. “Okay, let’s go scrape her off the floor.”

Miiya
“...what…the…yfretting shu…?!!” Miiya breathed. She was not dead in a cloud of vapor dispersing into space. She was here, at the gunnery station, rigid with fright, her hands locked in a deathgrip on the cannon controls.

“Still wanna fly with me?” Came the sardonic query from the turret hatch. “Use the bucket on your right.” The pilot said.

The Aeros girl scratched the side of her temples yanking the helmet off. She ripped off a fingernail clawing at the harness restraints, and fell off the left side of the gunnery saddle once she finally freed herself. There was no bucket on that side, so she ended up on the floor on all fours, shaken by dry heaves. Later, she wouldn’t be able to decide if she was thankful or regretful she had skipped lunch. She kinda wanted Delfye’s ship to smell like puke. Her feathers wouldn’t settle and she was having a hard time getting her heart rate under control. When Delfye--and possibly Tetsuo--chuckled from the turret hatch, she tried to turn and scream at them, but her voice was just the ghost of a whisper between her hyperventilating breaths. “...you fre--you fre-- you fretting arflines!!”

Tetsuo's attention was interrupted from the intricacies of genetic modifications to the unfolding scene with Delfye and Miiya. "What are you-", he began to say. The notion of placing the young Aeros girl in a simulated weapon turret, even if it was meant as a test, stirred a whirlwind of contemplation within him as he strapped himself in and looked at the screen. It certainly did feel like the real thing! His glasses flew off at least three times in the process, but being shaken about rattled something else loose from the doctor: memories. His analytical mind deciphered Delfye's intention: to give the young one a good scare, no doubt. As he observed Miiya spiraling into hysteria as all hell broke loose, his gaze oscillated between her, Delfye, and the screen.

Okay, it was a bit amusing at first, he conceded to himself, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Yet, beneath that veneer of amusement, something profound began to churn within his mind. The act of shattering the youthful spirit felt distinct, an unfamiliar sensation that he couldn't easily categorize as good or bad. It was as if he had stumbled upon a terrain of emotions he was not well-versed in, a realm he had long kept at arm's length due to his disconnection from others during his formative years.

His thoughts drifted, touching upon the ties he once shared with his former colleagues. Maybe Greg didn't deserve to be devoured by a raptor, he pondered, acknowledging a fragment of empathy that had long eluded him.

With a half-hearted chuckle, Tetsuo straigtened his glasses and peered down at Miiya, who now lay on the floor dry-heaving, overwhelmed by her ordeal. His brow furrowed as he juggled his thoughts, his wrist device offering a welcome diversion. Sorting through emotions had never been his forte, and his therapists had duly informed him of his "borderline" tendencies in this regard.

"So, what's the takeaway here? That things are too perilous? To embrace mediocrity, perhaps?" he pondered aloud, his voice tinged with a hint of defiance. "I don't know about you, but when I'm told something is impossible, that it can't be done, it sounds an awful lot like a challenge! Who are they to dictate my limits? Tetsuo Demaru, after all, is not one to bow to the word 'impossible!'" His words resonated with a determination to defy constraints. "I've taken a boy with over 90 percent of his body covered in burns and restored him and made him better than before! I've made chimer- ahhh... I've made leaps and bounds in navigating genetic science! Aand... neither of you will comprehend the importance of any of this. Really I just came here to confirm her whereabouts."

Tetsuo attempted to leave but was momentarily thwarted by his locked restraints, an amusing oversight on his part. However, he swiftly rectified the situation, unbuckled himself, and meticulously straightened his tie. As he proceeded to make his exit from the vessel, he paused, seized by a dark thought. He slowly turned his head and, taking a sharp breath and raising a finger to tap against his brow, his voice taking on a more sinister undertone.

"You know what is truly terrifying?" he began, his tone laden with an unsettling gravity. "When Belle first descended from... wherever, like a shooting star, there was a rrrradiant teal light upon impact. In a ten-block radius, all biomass simply... vanished! Mind you, this occurred in an uninhabited area, devoid of human life, but teeming with various animals. No humans were present. However, it does raise an intriguing question: What if GeneCorp were to decide to replicate her?"

Delfye
“That’s for breaking my face. Now we’re even.” Delfye responded calmly, watching the girl struggling with her autonomic nervous system trauma response.

Surprisingly--or maybe not surprising, but certainly impressive--Miiya could shoot. She could really shoot. Delfye was reading her accuracy ratings on his ocular implant. She was in the high 90th percentile--for hits. That put her a lot higher than most restricted AI targeting systems. It was just one sim, but Miiya seemed to be able to shoot as well as any championship marksman, and Delfye didn’t think it was a fluke. Random movement, gravity fluctuations, stress, and fear of death didn’t seem to affect her accuracy at all. If anything, her aim had improved with desperation.

That’s annoying. Because Delfye had not seriously considered taking on Miiya and her space rat. This sim was supposed to have sent her running crying back to the airlocks. But she was a crack shot, and more unflappable than he would have expected for an airhead with wings. He had figured he had a fair chance at escaping alone. With a gunner like Miiya at the rear and ventral turrets, it was almost guaranteed. Delfye was not all that altruistic by nature, but his years of buddhist training as a sammaran had not been completely expunged by the last few weeks away from the village. He couldn’t help but wonder if maybe the girl was better off coming with him--at least long enough to get away from lawless space.

Miiya
Miiya was struggling with shooting chest pains. It was not a real heart attack, it wasn’t even atrial fibrillation. She had not physically stressed herself, but she had danced twice in one day now, and that was very ill-advised. She gritted her teeth and pressed her knotted fists to her sternum even as she pushed to her knees. Her pills wouldn’t help with the pain, she just had to ride it out.

“What’s wrong with you?” Delfye asked, dispassionately staring down at the distressed Aeros girl.

It was not too long before Miiya recovered enough to speak. “What the frett do you care, arfline?!” She ground out, using the gun saddle to climb unsteadily to her feet. “It’s nothing.”

Tetsuo was leaving, after suggesting either that this was too perilous a task for Miiya or that she was a coward to walk away from it--the dude was hard to understand, even when he wasn’t talking organic chemistry in latin. Freet, can’t I have, like, a minute?

Apparently not. And, that’s sorta fair, I guess. It had been a simulation. She hadn’t killed anybody, nobody had died… yet. But they could. She could. She could shoot into an unshielded cockpit if she had to. That was a kinda fretting terrifying revelation, but if she couldn’t get her shu together after a (scary) sim, then how could she be trusted to keep it together when everything was real?

Well, I can. I can keep my kveck together. Watch.

She turned to Delfye, as Tetsuo departed. “So…? You gonna give us a ride or not?”

Delfye
The sammaran was nonplussed by the girl’s attitude and--whatever affliction had seized her after. She could shoot, though. She could shoot well enough that--dammit--he cursed himself inwardly again, she was better off aboard the AC-13, rather than trying to dodge GeneCorp security in Blue Heaven. And he would be better off having her--and even her stupid space rat--onboard as well. “Fine. Just don’t choke when it counts.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Its not like you’ve got a snowball’s chance of getting in and out of GeneCorp, anyway.” Delfye opined. “But if you do, I’ll ship you and your rat to D-17. They might pay something for the favor.”

No sooner had Delfye agreed to transport feathers and fuzz-face--does the weirdo come as part of the bargain too? He wondered--then Tetsuo said something about Belle annihilating all organic life. “What?!” Delfye demanded of his retreating back, but it seemed like he was getting no more answers.

Miiya
“Great. Get the ship ready to go. I’ll be back soon.” Miiya growled at Delfye, and stumbled off after Tetsuo. “Hey, wait up!” She called as she followed him away from the gangway of the ship. “Sorry I called you an arfline.” She was panting as she caught up with Tetsuo. “I didn’t mean it.” I mean, you are one, but I didn’t mean to say it out loud where you could hear. She thought to herself. You’re an arfline, but an arfline that I need to break Bella outta GeneCorp.

Miiya, when she had not been terror-welded to the gun controls, had a sort-of half-baked plan rattling around her head. She knew she could get back into GeneCorp unnoticed at shift change. She did not know exactly where Belle was being held, but she guessed it must not be in any of the public labs or spaces. The neoprimordial was supposed to be aboard Delfye’s ship, so GeneCorp would definitely want her somewhere out of the way. That ruled out anyplace Miiya could access with her co-op badge.

There were a couple of restricted areas that she knew of--and hopefully none that she didn’t. She doubted Belle was on the executive level, so that left the lower levels. She had heard them referred to as “storage” and “the old labs” when she’d asked about a particular lift that rejected her badge and pin. Tetsuo seemed like he might have some resources to help them get past that lift and down to the lower levels.

Miiya decided that she would just act like he was on-board for a joint rescue operation with her. Fake it till you make it. “We can’t exactly waltz up to the front desk at GeneCorp and ask to see Belle.” She stated, toed the floor in a nervous gesture. “I’m kinda… persona-non-grata there at the moment, and you will be, too, if they know you know about her.” Miiya paused. “I know a way in, though, that’s not guarded at night.” Or, rather, she knew when the shift change happened and when the guards weren’t watching. She and the other interns took advantage of the lapse in security to sneak in and out late at night. “I’ll show you if you promise to help me free Belle… and buy me dinner.”

The day cycle was mostly over and Miiya had still not eaten anything. That would have been hard on the Aeros under ordinary circumstances. With the extra activity and aviating she had done today, she was starting to actually starve. She was having a hard time suppressing compulsive tics to which she had been prone during the lean times back in New Warsaw. She was pretty sure her breath was starting to smell, and she was feeling abnormally tired and irritable. If she didn’t carb load soon, she would lose the ability to aviate at all. “I can tell you what I know while we eat. Sound like a deal?” Miiya wasn’t totally broke, she could afford food. But why pay for it, yourself, when you can get some other sucker arfline person to cough up for grub?

Tetsuo paused as the Aeros girl called out to him and hurriedly ran up to catch him. He glanced at his wrist monitor with a knowing smirk, as expected, and on time. His sharp mind had anticipated her punctuality, but it also raised concerns about the safety of their endeavor. Well, most certainly not! Nothing I do is exactly safe, but involving a child... He couldn't help but rub his chin thoughtfully as he considered the moral and ethical implications of their mission. He could probably talk his way in, but getting out is another conundrum, also there will most likely be violence.

After only a brief pause, he shrugged with an air of nonchalance, holding his arms off to the side, and abruptly said, "Sounds reasonable, Deal!"

"In fact, I'm a bit peckish myself. Any preferences, or is anywhere fine with you? Well, anywhere but that place with the clown," he added with a sidelong glance and a shiver.

Miiya Aether
Miiya had to suppress a flash of greed when Tetsuo let her pick the place. Was he rich? Did he really not care? No, she needed to focus on Belle, and soaking the geneticist might spoil that. “I eat, um, a lot.” She admitted. “You okay with Indian?” There were two all-you-can-eat places Miiya had been holding in reserve. It was not so much that she was banned from the other four, but they had kinda wised up to her, and service--like replacing empty buffet trays--slowed down when she was among the patrons.

Miiya had scoped out an Indian buffet--actually she had a ready catalog in her head of nearly every eating establishment in Blue Heaven--and knew when they had a curry-and-naan buffet. It would be just about to open if they headed there now, which meant several kilos of sauces and stacks of flatbread would be ready for her to devastate. “Follow me.”

(To: The Checkpoint)

Miiya Aether has left the area, heading in towards Blue Heaven Airlocks and Checkpoint.

"As do a lot of my subjects," Tetsuo muttered in a voice so low it was almost inaudible. To the question of Indian food, he simply gave a thumbs up. He seemed to jump back to checking his wrist monitor.

Unbeknownst to the Miiya, he was checking various vitals to numbered "patients." Given the lawless nature of Blue Haven, he had been continuing his research, trying to utilize what he could reconstruct from Belle's data in order to try recreating her genetic phenomenon. Multiple were failures, barely making it past the conception phase, but later iterations were hardier, and were stabilizing... but still it wasn't even close. The mutations though were fascinating! Now if only they could be sentient, at least a couple haven't awoken yet, so he's been fixated on their EEG for anything.

Almost on auto, Tetsuo followed Miiya.

Tetsuo Demaru has left the area, heading in towards Blue Heaven Airlocks and Checkpoint.