Redemption (Rated T) - A Pirate/Fleet RP

[Kat]

When the man mentioned Dunburrow, Kat bristled. "The only demons I hate are your kind, those who cause trouble for us. I hunt only when there is a reason to." She glared, almost wishing that a single look would be enough to torture him till he spilled any information about Leraye.

"And, tricking young 'uns like that is just low. You make me sick." She waved her staff, and instantly the shimmering purple rope began to tighten, like a sleek, magical serpent.

At first, he continued grinning up at them as though Kat had been joking. But eventually, he began to show signs of discomfort, and to add to that, she gave him a kick in the face - though not hard enough to knock any of his teeth out.

[Zylaa]

"He's not that creepy. You just have to know how to deal with these people," Jina said. "Come on, I'll show you. Or you could stay here and be a scardey-cat if you want."

"Scaredy-weasel," Zylaa corrected as they walked over to the man in the corner. She wasn't worried, really, although a bit nervous. She had run into many worse things as a pirate. In her opinion it didn't make the man any less creepy, though.

Jina began to strike the deal with the man, who did not spontaneously attack them at first. This was a good sign.

"...you get a number of drinks depending on how well you do the first two. Do you like it?"

Zylaa sincerely hoped that number was one. Her purse wasn't that fat, after all. But the man seemed to appreciate the deal, finishing the last dregs of his own drink.

"Alrighty then. What do you know about demons?" Jina asked.

The reaction was both unwelcome and unexpected. The man sprang to his feet and hissed, "You draw far too much attention to yourself, Miss-- whatever your name is." Grabbing Zylaa's sleeve, since she was the closest, he dragged her through a back door and angrily motioned Jina to follow. The room they entered, a storage room by the looks of it, was empty of people, and Walker spun around to close and bolt the door behind them, then strode through the room, examining the crates for any hidden listeners.

"Just wondering, here-- since you've grabbed us and pulled us away into some sort of closet, isn't that the more attention-getting move?" Walker turned his head and glared at her as if looks could roundhouse kick.

"If you would prefer the demons overhear your questions, you're free to leave. I'm sure the Train club will be more than able to protect you."

"Right. Anyway, since, you've pulled us in here, I assume you have some information to give us?"

"I'm telling you what I know about demons. Far too much, in recent months. That war gave the demons confidence, and they've been coming to Tabloid Town by the droves. Everyone fears them, even without knowing the true numbers. Demons are masters of disguise, after all, and unless some mage comes by, they can stay hidden."

"How many demons are there, then?" Zylaa asked, uneasy.

"At least two hundred." Zylaa stared.

"Two hundred? How? Why?"

"Vengeance. Justice. They think they have enough power now, and they want to finish what that knight started."

Kit, Zylaa thought. And this new power... that must be the gem.

[Huntress]

((Consider this a bit of a filler, but ye gods, was it ever fun to write x3))

Two men were wandering down the street.

At first sight, it was just that: two men wandering down the street. But taking a closer look, some corrections would have to be made in that impression.

For one, they were wearing similar clothes. The word 'uniform' comes to mind, or rather peers in very sheepishly through the door, but it was clearly the kind of uniform that had been passed down the warehouse for a couple decades through many, many hands that took it with their first badge and gave away with retirement, and had done some adjusting and general needlework in the meantime. They were good strong uniforms, including leather and chainmail and some crucial bits of metal as well as different kinds of belts and patches and other convenient additions that hadn't come with the uniform but made it easier to wear. They weren't tailored after the men, and were somewhat uncomfortable to wear, but hey, they were uniforms.

And the two weren't wandering either. They looked like they did, but there was a rhythm to it, and they had a... vaguely synchronized pace. It was like marching, but it was marching on holiday.

Long story short, the two were city watchmen; more specifically, watchmen bordering on the fine line between looking like watchmen - because they had the duty to Keep The Order - and at the same time not looking like watchmen - because there's no sense in getting in trouble.

One of them was tall and chubby, with the kind of jovial look characteristic to people who are mortally afraid of getting in any kind of conflict, and the other was a skinny little guy with the kind of look characteristic to people who only join the city watch because it's nice constant pay, and don't care much about the bits that talk about the duty for the people and community.

The locals, of course, knew them well, as did the criminals (who are, after all, also locals) and paradoxically, the odd couple was actually very good at keeping the peace, because criminals keep away from people who are known to run away very fast when attacked, overdramatize the situation in the local station, and bring back everyone that's currently on duty.

"As I was saying," the chubby one currently explained, "things really have changed since 'em moonpeople showed up, y'know what I'm saying? I mean, I of course know that they'd been around for months, a good watchman has to know what's going on in his city, but now they're all in the open and parading around with their shiny hi-tech weapons like they own the place."

The other watchman, ignoring the blatant lie in that monologue because he too didn't want to admit that some mysterious moonpeople had been working in the city without anyone but the highest city watch officers knowing, nodded in agreement. The City Watch wasn't exactly the same as the police force. The former was a remnant of the latter, and both worked side by side at that point, the watchmen mainly focusing on patrolling and keeping an eye on things whereas the police took care of any bigger operations.

"Who gave 'em the right to bear shiny weapons?" he grumbled in support. "I mean, here I was perfectly happy with my brand new model 223-B sixth release crossbow, and then all of a sudden some people show up with weapons that can melt holes in the walls."

"Uh... mages do that too," the chubby one said.

"Well, they're our mages," the other watchman said sulkily. "We know 'em. Who gave the right to some outsiders to just pop in with their shiny new weapons being all better than ours, s'what I'd like to know."

Being in complete mutual understanding, they turned around the corner and saw people fleeing a bar farther down the street. The two froze on spot, allowing one of the escaping men to grab the chubby man's collar.

"Watchmen... please..." he gasped. "Demons!"

The two froze even more. Demons were another big problem in their eyes, the difference being that you could actually talk about shiny annoying moonpeople because they had the order not to touch terrestrials, especially watchmen. Demons... you couldn't even tell if some of them were demons or not, and most of them had good hearing, and some of them got irked easily. Complain about demons and you risked getting your intestines pulled out through your ears in some back alley. Most of them were peaceful, yes, but it was all too clear that they were only peaceful until someone prodded them.

Like right now.

The watchmen edged closer to the open door of the bar, having a quick argument about who gets to peer in first. After hasty rock-paper-scissors, the skinny guy craned out his neck to look inside.

"Well?" his partner hissed. The other one took a deep breath.

"Looks like a very ordinary bar fight to me," he said, his voice carefully blank. "A small issue between a mage and a demon."

The other guy took a relieved breath. "No... sense in trying to interfere in quarrels that have their roots in traditions and honor, right?"

"Right."

"They haven't disturbed-slash-hurt-slash-attacked without provocation anyone irrelevant to the fight, right?"

"Right."

"And us getting involved would only provoke the possible escalation of the conflict to include innocent civilians, right?"

"Right."

The two walked away in that same semi-patrol pace, albeit considerably faster than before.

[Ikkin]

"Excellent!" said Fraze, smiling. He led the way out of the room, onto a wide walkway overlooking an enormous area filled with creatures of all descriptions, and over to the railing.
He began to point out each of the different alien races - "Corbanites," he said, pointing towards a group of round creatures who appeared to be wearing space suits inside. He continued with "Uryuom dignitaries" - small aliens which looked somewhat like a stereotypical martian, except with a puffball on top of an antenna. "Seneschai Aluit, Hooloovoo, Akerataeli" - Ikkin wasn't really sure what they looked like; she'd never seen anything like them. "At any one time, there are dozens of alien races here."

This had become readily apparent. While Fraze had accounted for a good portion of the aliens Ikkin had seen milling around, there were many more which were clearly something else entirely - some more human-looking, others significantly less-so. She wasn't really sure how it was possible for so many different creatures to get along well enough to live together; while some of her own friends weren't human (or even kitsune, like she was), the Spacefleet's kind of life still was completely different than anything she was used to.

Fraze lead Ikkin down to the lower level, which was filled with shops and restaurants. "This is one of my favorite places to eat," he said, stopping in front of the smallest restaurant Ikkin had ever seen. "I never could pronounce this place's name, but it's based around some race's cooking philosophy that says that the smell of food can give one life force." Considering the delicious smell that filled the air around the restaurant, Ikkin thought she could understand why.

"Of course, for more traditional and cheaper food, there's always the old mess hall. They serve practically anything and everything there. You could eat there three meals a day for a year and only have tried a third of what they offer. And conveniently situated next to it is the bar. Kinda like the mess hall, they serve drinks you never imagined possible. Not all of them are safe for humans, either."

Now this struck Ikkin as a very bad idea. She wondered momentarily how many people had gotten sick trying to show off by drinking drinks that they weren't supposed to drink - after all, some of the pirates managed to get sick drinking things that were meant to be consumed by humans. Then she realized that there probably were things in Tabloid Town that were nearly as unsafe - so, maybe, in a way, Spacefleet wasn't quite so different after all.

Fraze then led Ikkin to the boundary of the area, which was a long wall with thick sliding double doors every so often. "The station branches out around here. Down these doors are the Science and R&D departments. You probably arrived around here. If other Mages agree to let us study their magic, they'll probably come here."

He continued walking, showing her to another set of doors a bit away. "Down this hallway are the holodecks. We use them for training. They're also used for recreational purposes. In them, we can create completely interactive environments that you can walk around in, and computer-generated people or creatures that you can talk to, dance with, fight with, and so on."

Now this, Ikkin thought would be incredibly fun. The idea of playing out epic battles without actually being in any danger was downright appealing, and was something she'd never really seen recreated with magic. She made a note to herself to see if Mage Manor could be used in a similar way; after all, it was able to change according to the wishes of those inside it, so maybe...

Fraze then led Ikkin to yet another set of doors, breaking her out of her daydreaming. "Through here we have the physical section of the library. Spacefleet's library is composed of books, notebooks, and electronic hardware, but all of this information is backed up electronically. That way, we can lose one copy of information and the other copy still remains." Ikkin thought this made a huge amount of sense - books could be rather fragile, after all. Fraze opened a door, and said "This is just one level of the library, there are five more." Ikkin could only look on in awe - the Spacefleet's library was by far the most impressive she had ever seen. Though, it was rather inconvenient that it was so big - there was no way she could find Sev in it, if he was even still there.

Before Ikkin could decide whether she wanted to ask if she could look for Sev, Fraze closed the door. "That's all that I think you may be interested in. Would you like to get something to eat, or will you be heading back?"

Ikkin concentrated for a moment, trying to find Sev - nothing. She wasn't sure whether or not the space station might have been interfering with her senses, but she had no idea where she was. Well, if he wasn't there, it wasn't like she had a choice about whether to stay or not.

"Well, I am getting a bit hungry," she said. "But I'm not sure that I'd have any kind of currency that you'd take, just some shinies and a couple of pieces of eight. And I certainly don't expect to be treated; considering where I showed up when I got here, I'm just glad you didn't have to wipe my mind or something."

***

Sev wasn't exactly sure what kind of reaction he expected when he dropped the book on Hunty, but he certainly didn't expect for it to be caught by a street rat. Fortunately, the pirate cap'n managed to catch the kid by the hand within seconds and quickly turned her attention to him - and she wasn't even mad.

"Come again?" she asked, looking up at Sev as if she didn't have a whimpering boy under her hand. "You got demon-info from the moon?"

Sev thought this was rather obvious and just glared down at her as Bloody Mary reminded her that keeping the kid trapped wasn't exactly the best idea. Before long, though, her attention turned to him again.

"Get down here, Sev, high time for you to show up. How's life up there? Ikkin still tickin' and not in too much trouble?"

Sev really preferred flying around, but he could understand if other people found it annoying to have to watch him circling in the air, so he obliged and landed on the ground several feet from Hunty.

"Ikkin's fine. Too fine, really; there's nothing interesting at all going on up there. That's why I left, actually."

One of Hunty's meepits, meanwhile, had busied himself with the book. "Paperback copies in the Fleet library, didn't expect that. I thought they'd all be in fancypants machinery... lemme see that index." She quickly looked through the book, quoting out relevant parts when she found them - "Says here that he's a low-rank demon, non-magical, relies on alchemy. Et cetera, et cetera, yadda yadda... quite a bit about Guild Wars. Assisted the pirates in their attacks against the knights of the terrestrials, more random junk we all know by now cos we were there... disappeared in the middle of the battle in the iceberg, hasn't officially been spotted on the planet since." She paused, clearly recognizing the oddness in the phrasing. "Officially?"

Sev, being a bit of a cynic about human (or any other kind of intelligent being, really) nature, automatically took that as a sign that they were hiding something. It was pretty clear that none of the others around thought differently.

"I'm interested in what comes after the disappearance," Hunty said.

Sev was, too, but he wasn't about to go back to that library to try to get more information for her. After all, they'd probably be on the lookout for him, and while he didn't really care about anything they could do to him, he'd rather not mess things up for Ikkin while she was on some kind of diplomatic mission. That could only end in lots of work for him.

In any case, he really did need to get back for Ikkin. Hunty had all the information he could give, and she was stuck on the station until he came back. So, after she finished with the book, he took it back, excused himself, and disappeared in a flash of fire. There was no reason to actually steal it, after all.

He found himself in a room right off of the one he'd landed in the first time he tried to teleport to the station - the one with the bike. Now, that was bizarre. Was the bike somehow changing the world around him somehow to draw him in?

In any case, his attention was diverted by voices from the other room - the same scientists from before. "I'm feeling energy, like we thought might happen, but there's something else too," one of the scientists said. "…Some guy with glasses, pointy ears, and wings. Luh… leh… lar… Larry? Something about a prison… AUGH!"

"That's it! I'm aborting!" said another.

That was all Sev needed to hear - there was definitely a connection to Leraye there. He hid himself somewhat and tried to listen for anything else interesting - however, after a bit of a commotion, nothing new had come up, and one of the scientists started walking towards the room he was in to change. He managed to teleport in right before the scientist came into the room, and rather hoped that if the flash from his teleportation was seen, the scientist wouldn't know what it was.

Fortunately, the bike didn't seem to affect his teleportation so much when he was only going short distances, so he wound up almost exactly where he wanted to be - on the balcony outside of the room Ikkin and Fraze had been in.

Of course, Ikkin and Fraze were no longer there.

How inconvenient.

[Rider]

[glow=red,2,300]Rider clenched her teeth. This man would even infuriate a knight of Dunburrow into kicking him while he was down. Rider wanted to rough him up a little herself. Perhaps give him a mark to remember her by.

Whatever, he probably didn't know where Leraye was anyway.

"Keep those ropes tight, Kat. Leave him tied up and let the locals deal with him as they will. Let these boys' mother deal with him as she will."

She picked up one of the unconscious boys and laid him in a bed in the inn upstairs. "They'll come to sooner than later," she explained to Kat. "Might as well make them comfortable, and keep them out of the demon's reach. Meantimes, we have to get back to Hunty." [/glow]

[Jina]

"Vengeance. Justice. They think they have enough power now, and they want to finish what that knight started."

"So wait... How do you even know so much about demons?"

"I know people."

"People like Leraye, perhaps?" Asked Jina.

He spat. "He's not a person, he's a demon. Do you really think I would associate with him?"

"For all we know you could be anybody. Do you know where Leraye is?"

And then Walker snapped. "Don't... even... think about it. Get out, now!"

There is something about swords that helps to enforce such decisions.

[Huntress]

As Sev left, Hunty sat down on an empty crate in the alleyway, remaining staring at the street where the city's busy life flowed past her. The meepits, bright enough to realize when it was smart to keep quiet and let her think, gathered around her feet.

"So what do we have, then?" she finally asked. "The Spacefleet has info on Leraye. Classified info, therefore important info... right?"

"Well, not necessarily," Justice said. "Some organizations classify anything that isn't on tabloid front pages. But if it's highly restricted, then I'd think so, yes."

"Would level 9 security pass be high or low level in their system?"

The meepits didn't know. Hunty knew that they didn't know. It was a rhetorical question. She leaned forward, staring at the ground. They'd been searching for Leraye for a month, but now that they finally got some info, it suddenly made things a lot more complicated.

Spacefleet. She'd briefly thought of the possibility of them having useful information on the demon, what with them having info on pretty much the entire planet, but she'd dismissed that thought fast, partly because it had felt too unlikely that something so... technology-centric would have thorough info on something as supernatural. The other reason was that she'd simply been afraid of the thought of getting info from Spacefleet. They had freakin' lasers. And they lived up on the moon. And they had a number of security levels, all there for a reason and not broken with a simple dagger.

But it'd been a month. They'd pretty much used up all the other info sources they had, and although it was still possible that the crewmembers might dig something up, Hunty had a nagging feeling that it'd still lead back to the Fleet. They were thorough, she knew that. Once they already were researching something, they had to have something valuable. And now that she knew for a fact that they had info, she needed to get to it.

"Well, looks like we need to get access to that library," she said.

The meepits stared up at her - something meepits are very good at.

"Oh yes," Bloody Mary said grimly. "They'll be delighted to show you around in their most restricted archives, mark my word."

"Never said it'd be easy." Hunty was still staring at the ground, her mind racing madly.

"It's not something a pirate can break into," the meepit growled. "It takes some serious skills, you gotta admit that. And if you got caught trying to sneak in, it's your head. Heck, it's all our heads, and the entire diplomatic-relations thing would be down the drain, not that I cared much about it but if it means the ship not getting zappity..."

Hunty raised her head. There was a spark in her eyes.

"...you got an idea," Bloody Mary concluded. "And I won't like that idea."

"We're sending in a spy," the captain said.

"Did you, by any chance, hear a single word of what I just said?"

"Oh yes." Hunty still seemed hesitant, but now her thoughts had a clearer direction. "We need someone who wouldn't be associated with us. Someone we wouldn't feel sorry for if they get caught. Someone who has an incentive to do us a favor. Someone with skills. Technological skills. Cybernetic skills."

"Someone whose throat you slit this very morning, and sent off to the bottom of the sea," Bloody Mary said, his eyebrow twitching.

Hunty grinned. "Oh yes, bugger about that, if only we had some way to bring people back from the dead, eh?"

The meepit gave up.

"You'll have to let him back in the crew if you do that," he said dryly. "If he succeeds."

The captain got up, scowling. "Oh yes. If he succeeds. And I will, if he gets us Leraye's head in exchange. After all, he's already paid for his deeds. I sentenced him to death. He's dead. Clean sheet, if you wish."

"How're you gonna explain all that to the crew?"

"The same way."

The meepit sighed. He had to admit that this was pretty much the only logical way. The rest of the gang, each having digested this info their own way, decided to worry about all the issues when they actually face them, and formed the protective cluster around Hunty's feet again.

"Where to, then?" the not-exactly-gangleader asked, perched on the captain's shoulder as always.

"Well, I can't do much until Sev gets back here again. If the negotiations are going well then it shouldn't take them long any more. They'll find us when they want, so in the meantime we can use the time to find out," she looked around, "how the heck we're going to send him up there in the first place."

[Zylaa]

"Don't... even... think about it. Get out, now!"

Zylaa complied and scurried out the door along with Jina, trying to appear nonchalant despite fleeing from an angry sword-wielding man. Their attempts at inconspicuousness seemed to work-- the Train Club continued to ignore them.

"That was mostly a failure," Zylaa remarked cheerily. "And I'd love to know why that particular... er... other being is a taboo subject even among people who lurk in shadowy corners of taverns." She sighed. "I suppose we should report this to the Captain. Hopefully other mates will have found out some more useful information." As they walked towards the door, she noticed a waitress glaring at them from the corner. Zylaa pretended to ignore it, and out of the corner of her mouth she muttered, "I don't suppose you have any way to sense demonic presence?"

[Fraze]

"Well, I am getting a bit hungry," Ikkin said. "But I'm not sure that I'd have any kind of currency that you'd take, just some shinies and a couple of pieces of eight. And I certainly don't expect to be treated; considering where I showed up when I got here, I'm just glad you didn't have to wipe my mind or something."
Fraze waved his hand in a vague gesture that was supposed to mean "Don't worry."
"We deal with a lot of different currencies here. And since many people who visit and work here come from the NTWF, most of the places here take shinies."
Fraze decided it would be better not to comment on the idea of mind wiping. It wasn't at all his area of expertise, but he had heard of various methods for artificially-induced amnesia. None of them were pleasant. And if Spacefleet wiped a NTWF ambassador's mind, it wouldn't do anything good for 'Fleet-NTWF relations.
Pushing the thought out of his head, he continued. "Is there anywhere you think you'd like to eat? If you don't have much money, the mess hall would probably be the best place to go."

[Speck]

Now sufficiently clean, Speck wandered back the way she came. She had paid an extra penny to the bathhouse attendant to wash what blood she could out of her old clothes, and they were now wonderfully clean. Her new "dress clothes" were rumpled in the bag in her left hand.

She sighed as she eased herself into work mode, "Now what was that number again...? 7? 6? 19? 24? 42? Ah! Here we are. Room 26."

That same familiar presence was just behind the door as beore. Speck knocked, "Hello? May I come in?"
There was no response. She knocked again, "Hellooo?"

That was it. She was coming in no matter what. Strangely enough, the door was unlocked. It was pitch black in the room, even when her eyes would have started adjusting to the dark. The door slammed shut just as she crept in, and that's all she could remember before someone put a chemical-soaked washcloth to her face.

[Kat]

"Keep those ropes tight, Kat. Leave him tied up and let the locals deal with him as they will. Let these boys' mother deal with him as she will."

She frowned. "What if he's the only lead we've got?" With a wave of her staff, she sent the other two boys floating up the stairs and into beds beside their brother. If they felt themselves hovering a couple of feet, they would probably blame their crazy dreams. Kat glared at the man again, whose grin was instantly wiped off as he struggled against the bonds tightening themselves around him.

"Oh, don't complain. I'm going to be nice and make sure they don't bust any of your vital organs." Turning to Rider, she said, "All right then, where do we meet her? Shall I sent a signal?"

[Rider]

[glow=red,2,300]"What if he's the only lead we've got?"

"I have a feeling he's not a real lead," Rider whispered. "I think he's just trying to gauge how afraid we are. I won't give him any material to brag about."

But she already had. Kat knew it, Rider wasn't fooling anyone.

"He never mentioned knowing anything about Leraye. He's given us enough general information anyway. I doubt he's the only demon who feels the way he does."

How hard will it be for Shiva's children, half-demon and half-knight?

"I suppose we'll meet Cap'n at the Weewoo. Keep your eyes peeled for any other demons in the streets."

It would be nearly impossible for one with no magical skills such as herself to determine which residents of Tabloid Town were demons. Of all the racial minorities in Tabloid Town, demons were the most varied in form. Rider made a mental note to ask Shiva if demon chickens existed.[/glow]

[Cyborg]

Cold, surrounded him, as did darkness as he continued towards "Heaven". All of a sudden a blinding light appeared, and he knew he was in the familiar realm of the afterlife. He looked around, whispery translucent ghost-like beings floated past. None of this mattered, until he saw two of the "ghosts", one a cream coloured kougra with chocolate brown stripes, the other an ivory, white kougra with ebony, black stripes. " Mom,.... dad?" Cyborg asked.

The two figures, turned towards Cyborg. " Cyborg, why are you here, and where's Midknight?" they said as they floated towards their son.

" I was executed by my captain. Midknight has joined the Knights of Dunburrow." Cyborg responded.

" I won't ask about the execution." his mother said.

" So you lived your dream." his father stated happily.

" And I still will." Cyborg stated.

[Huntress]

The sign had said 'Travel Agencie'. Hunty had passed many of those on her zigzagging way back to the Weewoo, now in a more prestigous part of the city - although apparently they still had trouble with shop sign grammar - but she'd stepped into this one, because the sign was the fanciest yet and the house itself also screamed of a big generous investment.

She didn't like the place. It had too much marble and gold and fancily-dressed people for a travel agency, and her good strong pirate clothes, while the best practical thing on the high seas, obviously weren't the right dress code for that house. Come on now, she thought grimly. A travel agency and most people present look like the types who travel only from hotel to hotel and constantly complain about the climate and how everything's so much better back home.

Heck, she had work to do, and this place looked like the most likely source for learning about exotic destinations, so now she was leaning against the marble counter, leafing through a booklet. The man behind the counter - wearing a tuxedo, no less - was trying to look at her with his nostrils, but mostly failing because Bloody Mary was glaring back at him from Hunty's shoulder.

"I say... miss?" the man finally managed. "could I perhaps request you to..."

"You got nothing on Spacefleet," Hunty snapped, cutting him off. The man's mouth opened and closed for a couple times.

"The Spacefleet Headquarters," he said haughtily, "is one of our most exclusive locations, and they have explicitly requested us to limit the access to only the most respectable..."

Hunty unlocked the heavy pouch on her belt and lifted it on the counter. It landed with a muffled, heavy thump. The man's eyes got instantly glued to it.

"But certainly, madam," he said, now in a different tone, and produced a rather insincere, yet very wide smile. "While we do not have the means to offer flights to the moon, we in fact have a contract with the Tabloid Town Spaceport, and as the only agency in the city to offer the service, we charge a very reasonable, symbolic price to make your entire journey as comfortable and pleasant as possible, and..."

Hunty listened to the longwinded advertising with a scowl. She was certain that nearly every fancy-looking agency in the city had a similar contract, but she was also certain that the prices wouldn't vary that much. Bugger with that spy business. Sev was out of the question because the Fleet would then instantly put two and two together, and as it so turned out, conventional means were very tricky. And expensive. She had no doubts that flying up to the moon would cost a pretty penny.

She also had no doubts that any travel agency added 50% to the existing sum, so she squinted at the man. "Look, not all of us have all day to sit around and blabber. How much?"

The man squinted back at her, trying to figure out the situation. Rich people usually didn't ask for the price. If you had to ask for it, you couldn't afford it. But then his eyes darted to the pouch again.

"The total sum that includes a two-way ticket, accommodation and catering," he said, "amounts to seven million and two hundred thousand shinies, but it's usually recommended to have fifty thousand to spare, for unforeseen expenses and souvenirs."

The captain remained poker-faced, not so much because she'd braced herself but because her brain was too busy trying to make sense of this sum to react.

"And where is this... spaceport?" she asked. The man squinted again, but the tempting pouch of gold was doing its job well.

"We're not authorized to tell, unfortunately," he said. "Your journey would begin here in this agency and our coach will then transport you to..." Hunty pushed the pouch closer over the counter. The man swallowed.

"They wouldn't let you in without our authorization," he said.

Hunty, having heard everything she needed, nodded thoughtfully and turned around on spot, pulling the pouch along a second before the man attempted to grab it.

"Seven million!" she huffed, once they were back on the street. "I've been a pirate for well over four years, a quartermaster and now captain, toiling hard and facing death every single day, and I got 600,000 shinies going for my head. What do rich people do to earn all their money?"

"Inherit," Bob Squeaky said, sticking his head out of the pouch. "Coulda given him the pouch. I would've had some fun. And done some interrogating on the side."

"He wasn't the kind of guy who knows enough about the system. No, we need to find someone who does."

[Jina]

"I don't suppose you have any way to sense demonic presence?"

"Not particularly, I grew up around humans," replied Jina. She knew who Zylaa was talking about, the waitress could have eyes which glowed all the colours of the rainbow and still she wouldn't have been any less noticable. "But I wouldn't worry about her. She's just suspicious of us because we were talking to Walker."

By this time they had reched the door, and the waitress had returned to her business.

Outside, Jina stopped and turned to Zylaa. "So, are we going straight back to the ship now, or do you want to check somewhere else?"