Recruiting Once More

[Kyeera Hastur]

"She's waiting at the docks," Kyeera tells him in her matter-of-fact way. "Thought you might appreciate a ride out of here."

She could see a change in the strong warrior she once knew. Xi'asz's shoulders shook with emotion, either fear or frustration, she couldn't tell, and some of his implants hissed and buzzed as they worked overtime to compensate for the adrenaline rushing through him. He looked tired. Haggard.

"And maybe a safe place to sleep for the night," she jested dryly, seeing how years of accumulated exhaustion had taken their toll.

The warrior she knew was still in there though. She could see it. Those calculating eyes. That head on a swivel. He was ready and prepared for anything that might happen. She always loved that about him. Once he had a task and knew what needed done, it happened.

Our hunters have found us again, and they crash through violently...

Kyeera began playing with a tendril writhing playfully against the side of her face, wrapping it around her finger as the sounds of stomping boots and shouted orders grew closer to their location. "I have a proposition for you, if you're interested," she told him, talking like they had all the time in the world.

And even as the troops began to appear, shouting and pointing their weapons, she made no show of worry that they would interrupt her.

[Xi’asz Séalgair]

“Sleep’s overrated,” he grumble-sang, “but a clean extraction would be appreciated.”

The inevitable strings attached, however, would not be, he realized, slinging the rifle over his shoulder and pulling electro-bracers over his hands.

…and we fight them off together, as I hide my wounds from you

Xi’asz didn’t need to follow Hastur to know where the ship must be docked. Considering her penchant for secrecy and smooth talk, there was really only one docking paddock she’d use, unless she’d changed.

And she never changed.

“Non-lethal, some of the guards want him gone as badly as the populace. I just don’t know which ones.”

He made to run then noticed Hastur’s cane. Well, slow and steady can be more intimidating, he thought and began methodically pummeling anyone who dared get in their way.

We have the perfect opportunity to hurt or kill our hunters…

[Kyeera Hastur]

Kyeera nods in agreement. "Mixed loyalties make things messy. Non-lethal it is," she accepts. A brave and foolish soldier slips from the line as she disengages from the wall, his aim to capture this strange woman who seemed an ally to the man who had just attempted to assassinate their leader. Unfortunately, his quarry was none other that Captain Kyeera Hastur, who casually flings the contents of her beverage into his face without so much as batting an eye. And before he even has a chance to scream from the strong alcohol blinding him, casually crumples to the ground.

The cause of his defeat is not immediately obvious to the onlookers until Kyeera's central tendril, attached to the base of her crest, trailing down her back and writhing about like a tail, retracts from striking the poor fool, having released a mild paralytic venom into his bloodstream. The captain seems unfazed as her tendril writhes about in agitation, clearly marking the space around her as an unsafe area for others to be.

"Seems you know the way," she remarks casually as she follows behind Xi'asz after a few minutes, briefly pulling out her pistol to zap a soldier that thought attacks at long range would be a safer option.

...and I encourage you, saying it's whats necessary for now.

"Why don't we pick up the pace a bit?" she asks him, another soldier felled by her tendril as it strikes like a viper. "I think its only going to get worse if we dawdle."

Xi'asz does indeed pick up the pace, and before long they're standing before the Siren at the docks. Even though she'd come in it, the Captain still takes a few moments to stand and stare at her ship, and then her old companion. He seemed less sure about accepting her offer than he had in the past. They had, for a long time, had a sort of understand given that they both came from societies that prized strength in both their warriors and their scholars. Perhaps the times had changed him.

'What will make you betray me?' she wondered...

[Xi’asz Séalgair]

Standing at the foot of the entry ramp Xi’asz felt his breath catch in his throat. The last time was supposed to have been the last time.

He clenched and released his jaw, remaining motionless despite more shouts beginning to echo behind them. The words came out before he’d even turned to look at his former captain.

“I’ve felt it too. I hear them in my sleep. You didn’t just show up here for no reason, you never do.

We fucked up last time. YOU fucked up last time.” His words were dripping with as much venom as Hastur’s tendrils as he leveled his gaze on her.

“You were so SO sure. We all bought every bit of it. I killed friends, that now…now I’m not sure were part of its plan. But they’re gone, and I can’t let your ego be the death of more innocent people. I’ll do what I have to do to keep everyone safe from the threat.

Even if that threat is you.”

He stood stock still, eyes searing into her, the weight of self-doubt he’d been carrying threatening to crush him and unable to comprehend why she trusted him anyway.

[Kyeera Hastur]

Kyeera matches his stare, sizing him up as he dresses her down for her past failings. For their past failings. His words would sting if she hadn't already chastised herself over and over for letting this happen. So when the symphony of criticisms finally dies down, her face is all business.

"Good," she tells him. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

That was why she trusted him. Why she needed him. Tik. Lav. Batua. She doubted there ability to put aside their feelings if it came down to it, and they needed to take her down to make sure they succeeded in their mission. If she had to have sights trained on her for the entirety of this mission, she would want Xi'asz to be the one pulling the trigger.

She waves her hand, the hatch for the Siren opening for them to board. "Oh, and by the way..." she trails off, her hand fishing into her jacket and pulling out a small device. She pushes the button, and the ground them rocks as the Mayor-Baron's villa goes up in a pillar of smoke and ash. "...this point goes to me."

She smiles, knowing that Xi'asz's distraction with his missed shot would have given her the perfect opportunity to kill the bastard after all of his staff had been dissmissed due to his paranoia, and only he and his honor guard would have remained.

[Xi’asz Séalgair]

A reflexive smile tugged at the corners of Xi’asz’s mouth. Of course she’d had a backup plan.

Of course.

And if she’d really meant what she said, maybe, maybe there was still a chance to get it right this time.

He had to try.

Striding up the ramp he immediately made his way to the bar to see what was left of his old stash. This night called for a drink.

[Kyeera Hastur]

She's happy to the smile tug at his lips. He may still blame her and himself, but he wasn't against giving this another go. In fact, his remorse was a good sign to her. She wasn't immune to the guilt at what they had done, and it felt good to have another along that understood it from something akin to her point of view.

They could do this. And if they remembered all of the sacrifices that made doing this again necessary, maybe they could do it right.

[Kyeera Hastur]

The Broken

Kyeera stands before the door, hesitating. Above anyone else on the crew that she needed to recruit, she was the most worried about this one. The neighborhood looked nice enough. A bit run down. A bit empty. But nothing compared to the look of this residence, its windows dark (some even cracked) and an oppressive, negative aura that she couldn't quite place hanging in the air around her. With trepidation, she knocks on the door, loud and clear.

What about your current state shocks me?
What behavior of yours disgusts or saddens me?

[Lavender]

There was a suffocating stillness clinging to the brutalist structure where Captain Kyeera Hastur stood. The silence felt alive, oppressive in its weight, broken only by the faint hiss of the domicile door sliding open. Unlocked.. No one stood to greet Captain Kyeera Hastur on the other side. Inside, the air was stale, thick with the bitterness of neglect. The lights struggled against their decay, casting faint, faltering glimmers that painted the room in uneven shadows. Dust blanketed the consoles like ash from a long-dead fire, their faint glow barely piercing the suffocating shroud. Beneath the grime, screens displayed fractured images—ghosts of purpose long abandoned, lost in the monotony of their endless cycles of perhaps happier times. Dead plants slouched in their pots, their brittle stalks bowed as though in surrender. The soil, cracked and barren, bore no trace of care. Clothes lay discarded in heaps across the floor, their fabric dulled and matted by the invasive dust, as if the owner had once thrown them aside and never looked back. The room reeked not of death, but of an unsettling, drawn-out apathy—a place where time itself seemed reluctant to move forward.

And everywhere, bottles. Alcohols, medicine bottles. Stim packs crushed or ripped open, their contents scattered and mixed in the dust layers of the table.

"What are you doing here, Captain Kyeera Hastur?..." came a breathy voice from behind her. The words came out with a resonating hum. Lav's people did not speak so much as intone thoughts to one another at various harmonic frequencies. When they spoke language, their voice always carried an airy bell-like quality to it, making even the most wry comment sound somehow sweet when uttered from their lips.

And there they were, behind the Captain, appearing like some ethereal ghost and dressed in a form fitted dress that clung to their frame. The fabric shimmered faintly, catching the light like liquid metal, with bold accents that echoed the luminescent glow of the spots on their skin. The sharp lines of the dress hugged tightly around their otherwise androgynous build, drawing eyes toward them only to be caught in the gaze of a distant, haunted stare and empty smile trying to fill the void.. A void that now encompassed the Captain, then looked past her, lavender eyes still softly aglow but looking tired and puffy, the luminous irises almost completely engulfed in to the black saucers of their dilated pupils. A half drunk bottle of Zelyx dangled from their delicate fingers. Their movements were languid, almost hypnotic, as they raised the frosted, half-full bottle to their lips. The faint blue glow of the liquid inside pulsed softly, casting eerie shadows across their pale features, liquid shimmering almost hypnotically while Lav took deliberate, slow. swallows straight from the bottle's icy blue tip. They staggered a bit as the brushed past the Captain into the building, bracing themselves against a wall momentarily to avoid collapsing entirely as they tried to avoid any kind of physical contact while moving past her.

"Well?.." they intoned, wondering if the visit had more meaning than just to gawk. Somewhere deep in their eyes, a sense of knowing there was more to this visit than just to gawk.

What evidence of our time together do I try to hide from you?
What weakness of mine do you exploit?

[Kyeera Hastur]

Kyeera's eyes linger on the bottle clutched in Lav's hand as she expertly drains it. They traveled around her form, and to the world around her. Neglected. Wallowing in the shared misery of its inhabitant. It was clear where that oppressive aura came from.

As Lav shuffles past her, she can't help but notice their hand instinctively go to one of the nearby screens, turning it off before she can see what is displayed on it. See who was displayed on it. Though she could guess. Of all the people on the crew, Lav cared the most for those around them. They felt in ways that were absolutely foreign to the Captain, and when everything was said and done, grieved more deeply than any of them could fathom. The guilt that they felt would pale in comparison to Lav's.

"I think of them too," she finds herself saying. "All of them. Everyday." She hated herself for even bringing up the old crew when Lav was clearly still so torn apart by what happened, but she wasn't above using their memory to stir Lav from her stupor. She used them in life, why not use their memory in death as well.

One of us admits to feelings we never thought we'd say out loud...

"I still wonder if the choices I made are the rights ones," she admits, laughing ruefully at the irony of that statement given the last few days. "In fact, I'm almost certain the choices I made were as wrong as they could be, given the circumstances."

She lifts a small trinket from a nearby shelf, examining it idly before placing it back down, the outline of its base now skewed due to the settled dust. "And I never... I never apologized for what I put you through," she continues. "I still don't even know if I have the right to do so. The right to open myself up to even the possibility of forgiveness. Its why I've put off this meeting for as long as I have, but..."

Her eyes settle on Lav once more, an aura of pity and remorse exuding from her. "I think I'm starting to realize that it was never about me. You deserved an apology, regardless of what it would mean for me. I'm sorry for not realizing that sooner, and I'm sorry for what I put you through. All of it."