Welcome to the Greenhouse [Closed]

Welcome to the Greenhouse [Closed] - Printable Version

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Welcome to the Greenhouse [Closed] - danixiewrites - 08-19-2015

"Not expected to?" she replied, gripping the comm unit tighter. "The same way she wasn't expected to shoot off a round in your common room? Got some work to do on your presumptions, Captain." Getting near her wasn't a problem--Alex wasn't about to approach a being who lay smoldering along the floor. Fraggin'--footprints? The other woman had melted footprints into the metal floor.

Definitely do not get closer. "This is not coming out of my paycheck."

Alex rolled her shoulders back against the wall, attempting to relieve pain even as she revisited her last comm. Riiiight. He'd rescued her. Her 'paycheck' was alive-ness.

Supposedly.

She peered out from behind the wall panel and was surprised to see the woman standing--staring her down. What had he said? Don't look at her? Or don't let her look...

A man like him, Alex repeated silently, mouthing the words as she tried to ease out of line of sight and found there really wasn't anywhere to go until she was able to regain her feet. It was laughable, really. He'd revived her from a nightmare, fed her actual food, given her a place to stay. Most importantly, "He hasn't shot at me. So at least we're on the same page of the 'stay back' manifesto, oh temperate one."

As one might expect, and as typically happened for Alex, the other woman's response was to retrieve her weapon. Thankfully, Captain Fenris chose that moment to appear.

Once again, saving her life, in Alex's estimation. Though if he'd mentioned she might need to be more alert, she might not have needed rescuing this time. She could blame him--she didn't. If her nose hadn't been as per usual buried in tech, she would have seen the woman and the weapon, and retreated far from danger to comm him from safety.

Damn though, that suit. She bit her lip as she watched the scramble, her fingers itching more now than they had during the meal.

"Yes...explanation. When you say 'outlier'," Alex said when the battle was won and the fiery one subdued, "how many do you typically encounter on a run? I ask for statistics' sake--one does like to know if there'll be a need for a super shotgun proof suit in one's future. You know. After I make sure we're actually flight-worthy."

There were far more important questions to ask but none of them would settle into a complete sentence in her head. She knew she'd opted for cheeky in their stead and so after she stopped talking she propped her chin in her hands, sent him a sweet smile and batted her lashes.

When he removed his helm a squeak caught in the back of her throat. Gingerly pushing herself off the floor, she waited a beat to catch her breath and let the wash of pain fall back to its more recent, high threshold before she dared speak again.

"Never doubted you for a second." Another grin, because they both knew that was a lie, and to ease the fact there were more doubts in the air now than the question of his humanity.

"I'm fine. The shower helped a lot; the pain is improving. Ish. Very ish. Anyway, she had terrible aim." She jerked a thumb over her right shoulder. "Unless she had a grudge against that particular environmental sensor. In which case, excellent. But don't worry." She reached up to pat his arm. "I can fix it."

Ever curious, she took a half-turn around his suit to stare at his head. "Just checking for wires around the back," she said, the end of the sentence pitched upward with excitement as she caught a glimpse of plates. "You really are stacked. If you would..." she cleared her throat, failing in an attempt not to sound utterly giddy at the prospect of ogling more tech. Her fingers were already tracing the air as if she hadn't just watched him in action and shouldn't still concerned with her near demise. Truthfully, now that new tech had been revealed, her brain's curiosity levels would rearrange themselves to the most intriguing option before recalling DANGER. There seemed to be something wrong with the helm, for instance, and for a chance to prod at its inner workings..."I'd love a closer look. Please. If you wouldn't mind my fingers up your circuits--the suit I mean, not like somewhere more--moons, I should stop talking now--but yes, would you mind? Oh, but probably..." and there it was. Reality circled back. Alex's hands dropped as she sent an uneasy glance toward the couch where her assailant lay prone and she finished, "after."

She paused for a long moment, a reprieve that possibly was due to her self-chiding 'shut up' mantra, but then she stood on her tiptoes to peer over the edge of the furniture at a safe distance and her mouth was moving once more. "Interstellar mass murderer? Beauty queen on a rampage? Science experiment gone wrong? How did she even--she certainly didn't teleport here, and she REALLY doesn't like you. Or me. Because I'm with you. Hmm. What did you DO, Captain?" Her train of thought jumped, switching tracks with its usual efficiency and chaotic ease at a sudden snap of her fingers. She spun around to face him. "Speaking of doing, diiid you happen to remember clothes or were you too busy saving my life again?"

Welcome to the Greenhouse [Closed] - Ghostly - 08-26-2015

With Jallee out of the way for the moment, Zasz could focus on damage control in regards to Alex. However, her expression was anything but what he expected. He thought she'd be more...upset. Perhaps she was and merely had a better hold of any outbursts she might have wanted to give him. With how she'd been rambling on though, he had to question just how accurate his guess was. The mechanic's grin was met in kind, a break in an otherwise stoic stare to match her in response. Of course there were doubts to be had, but Zasz appreciated the forced optimism all the same. "I don't partake in salvaging vessels as often as you seem to be thinking I do. It's all situational, and most of the time about as exciting as siting through a warp." A roll of his singular organic ocular at what he said next before it even left his mouth. "This isn't the best first impression, but believe me when I say I am relatively safe company to be around." The fascination his guest had at his revealed augments did not go unnoticed, but he remained silent on the topic for now. Whether or not she was a technofetishist, which he was not entirely certain on being a word, was under some scrutiny by Zasz. All the same though, he enjoyed the gleam in her eyes, her excitement palatable to him. In fact it was rather pleasant to have another appreciate the less than socially acceptable choice he'd made to improve and advance his body.

While Alex danced about inspecting his person, Zasz was far less mobile and let her do so freely. Really outside of his hunts and jobs, the man was quite a static individual. "Who knows, maybe she did materialize aboard my craft at some point or another. What suite of strange metaphysical abilities she possesses are a mystery to me, apart from practically being a living flame." Whether or not Zasz was serious was yet to be determined considering that even with the removal of his mask he still kept a deadpan restraint over his features. Still, the slaver gave a dismissive wave of his hand turning around to glance over in the direction at his once again subdued captive. "Ah, I'm not too sure about what she is in her personal life other than royalty for some far off world." Helmet still in his grasp he stepped back over to the couch where Jallee lay still, quietly gritting his teeth at the trouble she caused him thus far. The irritation in his voice was clear as could be, but he would let himself be hung up on his anger, not with someone else looking on. A listless sigh, he regained that monotone drone that eerily matched his vocal modulator."I kidnapped her." Zasz stated bluntly, without much room for it to be taken any other way. Alex would have her judgements about him sooner or later, best to air one of the bigger skeletons in his closet. "I accept contracts for a fee when people require my kind of touch with all sorts of situations." Leaning down, one thick arm was shoved between the cushions searching for where a discarded pack of cigarettes should have been hiding. Sure enough a crumpled case was retrieved, with but a few sole sticks remaining. "I was meant to keep her out of the picture for a spell, then drop her back off when whatever political intrigue she was involved in blew over." Pressing the end of one cigarette to the hothead's temple he was visibly delighted in how embers sparked in reaction, but the emotion faded as fast as it came, the man simply resuming his explanation. "Some fault falls on me for merely scanning the dossier I have on the princess. I probably would have taken better care to not leave her unattended." In between scarred lips he took a lungful of smoke while returning his attention back to Alex. "Jallee. That's her name, and yes, she has quite the reason to be cross with me." Zasz wasn't one to ramble on, especially in crucial moments such as this, but there was plenty to discuss, and Alex never seemed to stop working that brain of hers even for a second. In his eyes it seemed best to provide the redhead with as much as he could for her to chew on to keep her from wondering what her solitary savior kept hidden in the dark corners of the Greenhouse.

Through flared nostrils at the thought of her nimble fingers running through his circuits he exhaled a plume of grey. "One day, if you decided to stick around, I'm sure you'll get to see the whole package." Tapping metallic digits against his chest as though overstating that he was the prize at the end of the line. The complexity of Zasz's modifications were nothing short of a technical marvel, and the list was kept as it exclusive as it came to those that were allowed a closer inspection. "For now though, If you want to take a crack at my helm go ahead. I'm pretty sure she all but scorched the optic sensors though." Extending the busted piece of hardware off to Alex he'd hope it would be but one more distraction to keep her stay in the Greenhouse properly occupied. "A replacement won't be too hard to come by once I have a chance." As long as he weren't thrust into an oxygen starved environment or exposed to toxic fumes, Zasz didn't see an immediate need for his complete suit other than to appease that itching sensation that he was baring a face that most were not privy to gaze upon. Right, the clothing situation. Considering the recent event that had unfolded, and not to mention that Alex was up and out of bed, it seemed difficult to explain that he'd had to wander off without her to fetch something for her to wear. "Oh? It looks like your managing fine with that blanket currently." The man did not have himself a snicker at his deflective joke, but there was a mocking raise of his eyebrows given while he walked on by Alex with a motion for her to follow him. Getting her something proper to wear was on the backburner. She'd have to prance around in the buff for a at least another hour by his calculations.

Cigarette down to but a nub of a dull cherry, he let it fall to crush it under his boot, only a brief pause to turn around and taunt Alex with his challenge. "Since you seem so adamant about keeping busy, how about I show you to your tools so you can make good on all of those claims to fix up my clunker of a spaceship?" That and a pass through his actual greenhouse was necessary to pick up a little treat for his unconscious Ifrit. Two birds with one stone, and Zasz was all about efficiency when possible. Towards the control room he'd carry himself to where the only easy means to access the other floors was located. Exiting the common room put them in a small connecting corridor with a set of stairs leading up and down on one side, and the service elevator on the other. Of course he'd choose the easiest means to go but one floor down, and there he was waiting for Alex to get into the cramped cylinder with him. "Going down."

Welcome to the Greenhouse [Closed] - danixiewrites - 09-09-2015

"So that's a no on the super suit for my very own, huh?" Alex quipped with a broad grin. "Probably a good thing. I'd have maneuverability worth those prefab cardboard nutrient creations of yours if I tried to climb into the ship's innards with one on." With a soft exhale, she concluded, "But I'm glad to hear you say 'safe company', even with a qualifier, Captain."

She backed away from the couch with round, gray eyes, shooting a look at him over her shoulder. "Wait. So you don't know HOW she got on board? So you've been what: playing tag? That's, ah...that's...Really?" Maybe she didn't like him because she'd been skulking about the ship, learning his intergalactic data search tendencies, before he caught on. His face gave nothing away; he seemed quite honest about the situation. Except then a further explanation was forthcoming. And his face remained immutable.

"Kidnapped," she repeated, feeling disbelief chase through her brain, facts nipping at its heels to try to piece together which was the joke. "Contracts..."

I am not a nice man...

Right, but...he said safe company. Really, he means 'babysit', not 'kidnap', right? And it sounds like more than bounty hunting anyway. What other kind of contracts does he take other than babysitting a royal for a little while? She stared at a spot between his suited shoulders as he stooped to retrieve one of the packs of garbage from the couch and plucked out a cigarette. A sinking sensation in her gut said Captain Fenris--not the fire-lady herself--was responsible for her being on the ship, and she knew to listen. Not listening to her gut was the reason she'd wound up strapped to an interrogation table on the Dem Vuong, after all. She processed everything in a flash, Jallee's attitude, Zasz's comments thus far, the way he continued on this track with more specific information--the kind that said it wasn't a joke at all.

"She seemed kind of pissed at you to have paid you to keep her out of harm's way for a cycle or so," Alex said slowly. "I'm going out on a wire here and guessing someone she doesn't like paid for your babysitting--princess? sitting--skills." He confirmed the woman's distaste and Alex laughed uneasily. So much for clinging to the hope that he hadn't actually meant kidnapping. "Did you at least tell her she's going home? After whatever blows over? She might be less feisty that way. You know. Less inclined to blow off the head of your completely-uninvolved-in-kidnappings passenger...Oh! Or was that like...part of the contract?"

A curious peering over the back of the couch, a shifting back and forth between her feet. "Not that she seemed particularly interested in listening to reason--what other kinds of things do you take contracts for? Where do you keep her? Did you get a contract to salvage the Dem Vuong too? Is 'does random things for a fee' a good retirement plan? It seems kind of dangerous what with the fire-ladies!" By the time she'd gotten her questions--most of them ones she'd not normally bother with in the face of actual logic and none of them actually directed at anyone in particular--spilled into the air this time, her voice had retreated to a higher pitch and her breath was shallow. Alex took a step back and focused for a moment on Zasz's smoke-obscured face, then darted a look at his helmet, which he extended.

It was a distraction. She knew it was a distraction, and she absolutely was going to take it anyway. Because what else did one do when one's brain was working out a whirlwind of nonsensical data but retreat to the familiar, the safe, the sane? Alex clutched the construct in one hand, juggling it between her datapad and comm. Then she stared at it. Blankly. And then more intently, as her brain clicked onto a familiar engineering track. Slowly letting go the more ridiculous of her concerns, working more logically once more. "Sorry," she murmured, "about that. Sometimes I get a little carried away. I'm sure you have this under control."

She shook her head and felt clean, long strands of her hair shimmer across her back. Clean. It'd been so long since she'd had somewhere clean and humanizing--somewhere she didn't have to fear being hauled away to endure pain. She didn't have to fear that here. Wait. My back...that means...With a tug, she pulled the blanket up a little higher. It must look in total shambles, she thought with some dismay. Freckles. Moons, he'll be seeing freckles and scars and so many freckles... She gave it another tug to try to maintain modesty, remembering her fall and that she hadn't exactly had the wherewithal to make sure she was presentable. Unfortunately, higher on the shoulders also meant higher on the thighs.

"It's funny...because most times I hear 'contracts' and think 'bounty hunter'. But you're not that, are you? You do salvage...and you're not hunting Jallee down, you're bring her back. Eventually. So it's more like, you're a jack-of-all-trades kind of captain." She blinked down at the helmet, prodding at a sensor tucked near where his ears would fit. And after all, he'd rescued her. She wasn't part of this contract business. She was the interloper here, and a guest on his ship. A ship she was supposed to fix--so they'd all survive landing at whatever port he needed to drop Jallee.

Calmer now, which might have been entirely due to the helmet--like a child's security blanket--Alex chuckled at his tease over the sheet. "I'm sure it's all the rage in the Venusian sector. But moons if I don't feel like I'm doing some kind of unfortunate walk of shame. Like someone nicked my clothes while I was having a good time--except I was really, really not having a good time..." she finished lamely, and rolled a gray gaze toward where he stood. At the word 'tools', she brightened, straightened her shoulders, all of her work to tug at the blanket nearly coming undone with the movement. He was on the move before she could answer. Probably because he knew as well as she did the answer would be an enthusiastic yes.

With one last glance flicked toward the royal sprawled on the couch, she jogged after his greater strides to the elevator. "I'm gonna assume since you're leaving her there that I won't have to worry about a shotgun to the face while I'm working."

Welcome to the Greenhouse [Closed] - Ghostly - 09-14-2015

Once the elevator door closed with a sealing hiss of air, Zasz tapped the button below the current marked floor. A low hum of the gravity generators activated to signify that they were indeed moving. Turning in the cramped box to face Alex, he'd take her chin as gently as possible with just two thick armored fingers. There eyes would be intended to meet, as Zasz felt out of all that he had said thus far, this in particular held more importance than all else. Jallee could throw a tantrum all till she went blue in the her hot red face, his vessel could all but fall apart at the seams, but he had his own set or morals, his own rules to follow, and he put them on a pedestal above all else. "Alex Winger." He'd start, as sincere a look that someone with a grizzled visage like his could muster. "There are only a handful of reasons you will ever have to apologize to me, and speaking your mind is certainly not one of them. The company I keep is selective at best, I prefer those that are not afraid to be who they are." Zasz released her from as soon as he finished, of course it was an aggressive move to hold her like that, but it wouldn't do to have Alex tiptoe around him like he was going to strike her down at the wrong phrase. The woman was stuck on his ship one way or another, and Zasz was no killer. If she had problems with his "collection", whenever that fact came to light, then matters might come to a serious point.

The dull buzz came to a halt and sliding doors squeaked open, which Zasz didn't hesitate in walking through. The slaver wouldn't look at her this time around, instead inspecting the lone apparatus visible in the room as the overhead florescent bulbs flickered on. "Let's see." Zasz ran a hand along what appeared to be a harness of some sort that would fit someone of his modified stature. Suspended above was a device as well, though it was ovular in design and lacked any details, being completely smooth and reflective on the surface. "No, I never told her she was going home, and I probably would have if I thought she was going to react in such a way. The contract I have for Jallee Russlion is fairly straightforward, there are not any sub guidelines I have to abide by other than keeping her away from her homeworld until I receive an encoded message from their capital, then dropping her back off. The list of various jobs I take on a regular basis would be a pain in my ass to go through here and now. This is a retrofitted prison craft, of course I have cells to toss people into if I have a need to. I came upon the Diem Vuong by chance and saw an opportunity at a decent salvage." Making a full rotation of the strange looking mechanism he'd be wearing a wry grin on those features at his long winded exposition. He was having fun answering all of the questions, or attempting to anyways, having kept a count on his digits which quickly fell to his side. "I may be vague or leave out key information when rambling off to others, but I try to remain as honest as possible. It's one of my quirks."

Alex was a special...whatever she was, not entirely certain on her race, not that he had asked to begin with, or that it mattered to him. Clutching numerous pieces of tech he'd given her as though if they were dropped they'd be beyond recovery, all while barely wrapped in those clean white sheets. Whether she had it too high or low, she refused to seem comfortable, he didn't have to peer at her with his bionic eye to see that fact. "You know, if it's a problem to try and keep sensible you don't have to bother with it. Have you seen my mug? A few battle scars are hardly anything to be ashamed of." Zasz gave a shrug of those massive plated shoulders, before stepping over to a control console attached to one of the walls opposite the center. Tapping in a selection of commands, the panels lining the square facility tilted outward and reversed their position to exhibit various treasures that were once hidden away. "Or if it has to do with not wanting to be flashing your bits about. I mean, I don't have any clothes on technically either." A chuckle, rare for him to laugh at even his own jokes as he eyed a newly revealed drawer to his right. Scrounging about inside Zasz dug out an electromagnetic spanner. It had been a while since he'd actually been down here; how much of this equipment was in functional shape was up for question. Servicing his personal gear happened once in a blue moon, and he never bothered with taking his exosuit off these days. "I don't know exactly what you might require, nor would I be able to tell you where to find it, so feel free to look around and take whatever you want."

Zasz had left the survivor of the Diem Vuong standing at the entrance like a deer in the headlights, but it without too much of a hustle he resumed his post in towering next to her, placing what was essentially a fancy wrench into the helmet she clutched as though it were a bucket. "The sleeping beauty will be out for a while yet, and I'm going to be taking precautions to quash any further issues we might have with her." Once in the elevator and facing Alex, he'd give her one last set of instructions. "Take whatever you can carry, and don't rush yourself. When you're ready, either take the lift back up to the common level, or join me two floors down the in the greenhouse." Pressing the designated button for the said location sent him downwards to his destination. Zasz had spoken a fair bit, and surely there would be more questions to come from her lips, but they would have to wait. Jallee would not be a problem once he retrieved her 'medicine', how long he had until she stirred though, he could only guess at. The Ifrit had already defied his expectations once, and he'd prefer to have it remain as such.

The greenhouse within the Greenhouse.

Even more so than any other place on the vessel, this garden floating across the stars had its climate control settings down to a science. Like the containment section, this area stretched a ways down in one lengthy corridor. With semi-transparent structures dotting the path, each were their own biome to grow specific breeds of plant life. Zasz was proud of the work he'd put into this endeavor; he'd come strides from when he first had the inkling of such a project, all because of the the nymph in her flower shop years ago. Now he had around a dozen or so thriving ecosystems, having collected exquisite flora and fungi from regions all over the galaxy. What he had come down here for, was a unique variety that he'd regret clipping for a reason such as Jallee. The third tent of sorts on the left would be where he entered, passing through a decontamination unit and then being exposed to the glare of ultraviolet of lights. Inside was a single circular planter with various flowering stalks of exotic colors. Each needed space of their own to flourish, all in all there were about six varieties, but Zasz would have to be reading from one of his journals to pronounce most of their names. The Apollo Lilly, the aforementioned orchid that he now had an immediate use for. In between his precise fingers, Zasz snapped off one stalk branching from the main stem to take a singular flowing bud. It alone was all that would be called for, and slipping the delicate package into a now open container along his waist did he make way to return to the common room, or run into Alex, whichever came first.

The slaver was not one to dilly dally, at least not for very long.

RE: Welcome to the Greenhouse [Closed] - danixiewrites - 11-09-2015

Still nursing embarrassment over her dress and the endless chattering she couldn't seem to quell, Alex swallowed hard as she stared into Zasz’s unhidden eyes. Reassurance wasn’t exactly the expected set of words she had come to expect from a hold like this. “If you do not shut up…” was more typical. “One more word…” was also a usual threat-opener. Either barely worked, if at all, but when his words were so different, her gaze flitted across his face, trying to discern if he was toying with her. He, of course, gave nothing away. Which would have been troubling, were the thrill of having been told she could be herself without fear not beginning to power through her brain like a drive at warp.

Toying with her or not, she'd take him at face value. Alex preferred people who spoke plainly, honestly, and Zasz didn't seem like the kind of man to pull punches. Verbally or physically. Incredible, that she and her unfortunate tendencies to talk, overthink, and think aloud would wind up in a place where the Captain wouldn't threaten to put a laser through her eye socket. And what could she say in return but, "I'm not afraid."

The elevator stopped and she scampered after him into temporary darkness, straightening her bare shoulders as the room self-lit. She wasn't afraid, no, and she wasn't useless. He'd even put his ship in her hands! Her footsteps faltered only slightly at the sight of the straps. Not for me. Never for me. Not ever again.

"Honesty is good," Alex agreed. "And I do appreciate your candor." Retrofitted prison ship? Various jobs on the regular? So many he couldn't fit them in a nice, concise list? Well, she guessed one had to take breaks where they could get them. "How much did it run up your budget? Did you find it in a scrapheap too? Don't answer that. You paid too much, at any rate." She probably didn't want to know. It was probably best for her if she didn't. For all she knew, maybe he'd been desperate, stolen it and it'd been in this shape when he'd grabbed it. Beggars couldn't be choosers, after all.

And why she'd painted Captain Zasz Fenris in a desperate portrayal of money need pre-current-profession, she didn't know. But it made sense, she figured, because who would want to take on odd jobs one couldn't expand on in polite conversation much less keep a ship in such horrible disarray, than someone with empty pockets? She rolled that around in her mind for a moment before coming up with a half-dozen examples that knocked her theory off its axis. Independently wealthy sorts and bored wanderers topped the list. Perhaps she would never know what made Captain Zasz Fenris tick.

Unless she asked him.

Her mouth gaped open a bit when he made the suggestion, and the question she'd had would have to wait. The Captain seemed straightforward and unflinching. Alex liked that. But it didn't mean she was going to run around in the nude just because he suggested it like one might suggest a nice picnic or an evening stroll on a station proper. She had her dignity to consider. Granted. Not much of that was left given how many times he'd already seen her fall flat on her face in the short time she'd been aboard his ship. And yeah, he'd already seen her scars, hauled her through a mortifying shower experience and gotten the grand display of every bazillion one of her freckles. Still.

She straightened, tugging on the sheet once more. "Maybe I'm the one who doesn't want to see them," she suggested, and those weren't the words she'd planned on coming out of her mouth either. She flushed paler, her freckles probably smattering like hot pokers over the bridge of her nose. "It's better to forget they're there at all," came a faint explanation that didn't make it better. Even so, when he made a crack about his suit not being clothes, an uneasy laugh came out, ringing clearer the longer it lasted. "Thanks," she murmured as she came closer to eyeball the drawer. "I needed that."

She grinned, too, as he deposited the heavy tool into his half-melted helm. "Will do, Captain, sir!" She shuffled forward and dove into the drawers he'd revealed on the far side of the wall. She quickly rummaged through screwdrivers and sonic boards and levels and clippers and wrenches and laser cutters. A ton of scrap gear was in evidence and she pondered what might be useful for fixing the long, long list of things aboard the ship that he had given her.

Not truly knowing what condition they were in yet, perhaps the best thing she could do for now was find tools that would let her assess the damage and those that would patch up the common situations she might find in other ships in similar shape.

She continued her shopping excursion and followed Zasz's example of loading up the heavy equipment, carefully setting things inside and sorting so nothing would inadvertently fall out nor further damage the interior. She had more investigating to do, after all. Ducking her head, Alex pointedly avoided the fact that there were straps of all horrible varieties around her. They might have been meant for anything, really, not just tying people to tables and performing terrible terrible acts of torture to get her to talk about things they knew she had no knowledge of.

For a moment she teetered, wobbled with uncertainty and a bit of adrenaline coursing backwards through her system. Alex sat down hard on the floor, surrounded by tools and trinkets and wires. No tears escaped but she was tired. So tired. She flopped backward and the toga-esque sheet billowed around her as she stared at the straps suspended from the ceiling of the stuffy room.

How had she come to this? She'd survived her "you're a disappointment" childhood, she'd survived odd jobs herself--engineering through dozens of ships, a bright star of skill and talent that the Agency had finally caught wind of and dragged her in for a job on a whole different keel. She'd survived being their puppet, taking on more and more undercover jobs to spy on ever-increasingly dangerous ships and humans and inhumans and corporations, she'd survived getting out without getting deleted and she'd even survived her return back to freelance, the previous job contracts blacklisted until she was working only on remote outposts. And then she'd survived the Diem Vuong. She'd survive this too, this ship in the middle of the vastness of space where nothing made sense and people she didn't know, hadn't had a chance to annoy with her uncontrollable mouth, fired at her with shotguns and the ship she stood on could fall out of the sky at any moment.

How she had come to this didn't matter.

She was here. She was in this.

Alex's brain shifted from self-pity to productiveness, escaping reality and her usual mish-mash of thoughts to hide in the list of things she might yet need to be able to assess the situations aboard the ship, to be able to fix it for good. Even if a ship like this she might fix forever and still not have it to perfection, no one was stopping her from trying.

And that, she realized, forcing herself to sitting and letting the cloth cinch around her waist, that was the thing about this ship. No one was stopping her from trusting herself, from doing useful things, from talking, from simply...being.

A bright smile spread across her lips. "Moons, this might actually be the best place I've ever been."

Clunking and limping and laden with fire-breathing, shotgun-toting princesses though it was.

She moved to stand and the muscles in her back clenched, straining against the feel of what she assumed an incoming fireball might have been like. No. I will not. Not feel. She shoved it back, down, away, behind her tolerance until it was gone and the threatening flickers at the edge of her vision receded. Plucking at an edge of sheeting, she secured it over her shoulders much better than it'd been when she entered the room in the first place, her jaw grimly clenched. No way was she going to sit here and be taken down by another fainting incident while the Captain was waiting for her to appear below decks. Or wherever the Greenhouse was. With a nudged the elevator opened and she rested against its back, comm, pad, and tools in one convenient helmet as she barely managed to fumble her free fingers across the button.

"I am good enough. I am worth something. Valuable, even. I can fix this thing, I can make myself worth keeping around. At least not worth the trouble of spacing." She continued to mutter to herself until the elevator slid to a stop and the doors slid open. At which point her hard won balance became a joke as the ship jerked to one side and sent her almost rolling out of the open doorway and into the strange room beyond.

The sheet caught on the door and ripped away as she tumbled forward and landed on the floor. Again.

And right at Zasz's clever boots. Which was convenient, at best, and really damn tiring, at worst. She flicked long strands of hair back over her shoulder and got to her feet as fast as she dared, shoving down the pain and instinct to wince, smiling slightly instead--as if she could pretend it hadn't happened. "Do you have a couple of burned out boosters on this thing too? Or are little pieces of ship just exploding for the hell of it, now?"

RE: Welcome to the Greenhouse [Closed] - Ghostly - 11-28-2015

When was the last moment Zasz Fenris had slept? An odd question to pose considering one in his position likely warned against anything but an optimal rest pattern. Zasz had lost count of the days since he'd last closed his eyes for any meaningful period. Perhaps close to a week at best, one might shudder at the thought of any longer length. Most sentient creatures with a biological makeup similar to the human anatomy required a several hour rem cycle to allow both the mind and body an opportunity to recuperate. Zasz's people were no less different in that regard, perhaps a bit more sturdy, but no less mentally profound. What the slaver did poses over the average was a suite of enhanced cranial augments wired into his brain-stem. Zasz could act at length all while avoiding mental fatigue through a carefully regulated cycling of neurotransmitters.

The marvels or scientific progress and illegal augments still only pushed Zasz's abilities so far though. To coin an old, and somewhat well worn phrase: he was still only human. His lone function ocular displayed his exhaustion poorly considering his usual chiseled features, but now without anyone to scrutinize him he let out one echoing groan throughout the open expanse of the greenhouse; just in time for vibrations to ripple across the massive vessel. His magnetic clamps held him upright, but did not keep his upper torso from swaying with the sudden movement. In addition, Alex came toppling out into his path from the elevator entrance, bedsheet waving like a flag of surrender from behind her where it snagged on the frame of the doorway. Unfortunate timing again on the part of the youthful mechanic as her proven protector had been too far away to catch her fall, only able to keep his helmet filled with supplies from scattering about the floor. However, Alex quickly owned her shame even as it flared up on her pale skin.

Back onto her feet, Zasz wasted not a second in hustling her back the way she came into the elevator even as she joked about the rapidly deteriorating state of his craft. The Greenhouse was a work of art, practically torn apart to be rebuilt from the inside out, and while it readily needed its fair share of tender love and care, it was not a slagged junk heap falling apart at the seams. The two were sealed inside and headed back up through the shaft to return to the main level. Zasz currently didn't seem all too keen on cracking jokes as he had been prior, instead now one could see, if not hear the clenching of his jaw, all while lights flicked about in his artificial eye implant.

"We're being fired upon. Two fighter ships, military grade from what the sensors picked up. They've shot up the hyperspace thrusters, so I believe their intent is to cripple us." Truth be told, Zasz could only speculate on what faction these newcomers belonged to, or what their purpose was. The fact that they chose to aim for the long distance engines in their opening salvo left hope that something more critical, say the warp drive wouldn't be hit next and tear the ship into oblivion. While not as pressing as the missiles pelting the hull of his starship, a nagging question kept picking at the forefront of his concentration. How had they even found him to begin with? The Greenhouse had been floating in what was essentially a sector of space void of any habitable worlds, much less of anything worth passing through. Beyond that, he'd been traveling with all communication frequencies silenced. The only break in his ship's blackout mode had been to recover the...Diem Vuong.

Giving back his helmet to Alex, Zasz suddenly let out quite the expletive. "Fuck me!" He roared as the elevator opened up to the common deck where in the giant of a man hurried towards the bridge with an impressive pace for his size. Thankfully, only giving a brief glance in her general direction, the princess still remained unconscious atop the couch. "The distress beacon aboard what was left of the Diem Vuong is still rattling off. I completely forgot about it after I found you." A short trip to the bridge, since the elevator was located so conveniently close by, Zasz continued as he took the the command seat at the front of the relatively spacious deck. "The frequency had carried throughout this entire sector, so no wonder these guys found me in the dead of space." The lengthy reinforced glass wall where one could stare endlessly off into the darkness beyond slowly shuttered itself with a blast shield, several slightly opaque displays popping up with status information and visuals on the two ships attacking them currently. "Ah." Zasz started off with a hum of a noise that might have been intrigue mixed with disappointment. "Those are not certainly not pirates." Bright red were the hulls, sleek in design and fast as hell on the radar. A logo was clearly visible, and though Alex would not know of it, Zasz immediately recognized the Russlion empire's banner. "My pursuers, I presume here to retrieve their would be queen." Zasz's fingers quickly took control of the Greenhouse, not that there were any sort of weaponry available to knockout either of the pair of assailants, nor could he as mentioned earlier simply tunnel through hyperspace to escape.

Several more smaller explosions wracked the craft, but as indicators noted they were but negligible hull damage as he sealed off the rooms affected. As if on cue, their barrage ceased and the Greenhouse received an audio hail. "Some demands, I believe." Letting the transmission through gave only a brief pause before a rather aggressive tone barked through the speakers, obviously alien and passing through a translator. "Release Princess Jallee in an escape pod, and we'll let you go. Comply or we'll be forced to board you." A roll from his singular working orb before he cut off the line and removed himself from his chair. "They'd open fire the second they verified it was her in the pod. I know I said it was relatively safe to be around me, so let's just call this an off day." There was the lone sliver of humor he'd give to Alex, the smallest of grins of his face as he passed her by again to leave the bridge. "I doubt those two were the only ones sent out after me, likely just a forward scouting party. We'll need to deal with them and shut off the distress beacon on the Diem Vuong. I'd say just to jettison the scrap heap, but without a means to quickly leave the area, it will still be transmitting throughout the sector."

The captain paced over to where Jallee lay motionless save for a slow rise and fall of her chest and resting gauntlet clad hands atop the worn cushion he let out a grunt of a sigh. "It isn't fair of me to ask you to fight along with me, so I wont, but at the same time I recognize that you are somewhat without a choice." The man would pause there, cocking his head to the side to stare down the youthful mechanic. He couldn't see her as a killer, and honestly neither was he. Like the individuals that would be coming aboard though, he had military training, weapon handling experience, and was well versed in close quarters combat.

"How about this, when we make it through this we can be square in regards to me rescuing you, I'll even drop you off the first chance I have." Never a good judge of character, whatever her intent might have been in the long run aboard the Greenhouse was a mystery to Zasz. Their time together thus far had been a wild ride and didn't seem to be letting up anytime soon, but despite what his own intentions were for the woman, he could not keep her with him against her will. As ironic as that sounded, Alex was no mark of his, just a bystander caught in the crossfire of his own blunders. That and she carried scars enough for a lifetime without being opened to more by his side. The choice was her hers, and not one he'd raise a complaint to.

Grabbing hold of the shotgun he'd forgotten on the couch in the earlier encounter he'd hand it over for Alex to use. "I can take them without it, better for you to provide cover fire if necessary." In all that he said, and regardless of what kind of pep talk, if that was what you could call it that Zasz gave towards her, she should take note that he was as confident as could be in preparing to deal with the intruders. After all he did say, 'when' they got through this, not 'if'.

Two distinct impacts hit the Greenhouse, and Zasz wasted not a second in determining where. "Well, should we go greet our guests?" Alex Winger just couldn't seem to catch a break, and whether she wanted to or not, she'd get swept up in Zasz's pace in no time.

RE: Welcome to the Greenhouse [Closed] - danixiewrites - 12-12-2015

Ohhhhhhhh, she'd done it. Finally done it, when she was beginning to suspect her rescuer was as immune to her natural state of curiosity as a rock was to romantic overtures.

Alex had made another captain grumpy.

It was one thing to not talk, as he had proven more than once he'd let her ramble, not even cutting in when she stopped for air, but rather waiting until she'd run out of steam. But his face was taut, his jaw grim, definitely not the stoic man she'd met before. She tugged on the sheet stuck in the elevator door, a fruitless diversion that let her face away from him as she wondered what she'd said that had finally changed things. She rapidly picked apart both her words and her physical state as he stood there, unmoving save the tension in his jaw that her ingrained instincts took to mean as "duck!".

Maybe he had been lying about the whole "naked" thing. An emergency shower had been fine but now she really was prancing about with all her flaws highlighted on her skin...she hadn't gotten a full look at herself yet. Maybe he was just angry on her behalf instead. Maybe the scars were simply hideous.

"Is there such a thing as hideousness being 'simple'?" she murmured to herself, scarcely realizing it was aloud. She brightened then, noting which level he'd pointed the elevator to. Maybe he was pissed that the princess could have been blowing up his book-and-used-cigarette laden common space.

Of course that must have been it--she jumped as he spoke at a rapid clip, the words cutting through the tense silence and slicing through her concerns like a synthblade.

Fired upon? She turned wide, wide eyes toward the captain. Did he just say, FIRED UPON? Of course he did. Of course they are. Her life could never be so easy as a nice lift to a habitable system without something going wrong. Alex grabbed at the helmet as he thrust it toward her and scurried after him as he snarled curses, freckles forgotten in lieu of far more important things. Like whether the princess had woken and done more damage. (She hadn't.) On the bridge, she marveled at the arrays. The ship manifest he'd given her had quirky bits but here, things were still shiny. It certainly didn't mesh with what she'd considered a retrofitted prison ship would contain in its command center. Updates. Just like his suit.

Her fingers twitched around the helmet.

Zasz's assessment meant the volleys against their shields weren't done. She made a sound in the back of her throat at the mention of the distress beacon that had been her salvation, and now might mean her destruction. Not destruction, she corrected, casting a glance over her shoulder toward the common room. "They wouldn't blow us up with her on board then, right?"

Alex gripped onto a console to steady herself as more shots were fired. The orders over the comm system confirmed the captain's rather smug conclusions, and she tipped her head toward him. "Not your first boarding party, then," she said, her words pitched a little higher than usual, less curious and more concerned. Probably not even his first princess. It was a good sign, she tried to reassure herself, that he had experience with these matters and knew what he was doing. The smirk was far more reassuring than it should have been, tension easing from her shoulders even as she realized there might be more weapons battering the ship soon enough. "And obviously it's not you, it's me," she quipped lightly, "I've had a lot of off days lately." She pushed away from the console to trail after him. "Not in terms of work, see," she hurried to correct, "my work is never in question. It's just. Well. You saw the ship I came in on."

A morass of metal and tech more than half bared to the void of space. She didn't think the ships attacking them now were the aggressors that had demolished the Diem Vuong. But she had indeed been on it, and it was her presence that made him forget about the tracking signal. Because he'd been busy cooking her a hot meal.

A flighty smile that evaporated under his sudden scrutiny, her bare toes fidgeting against the flooring. "But I like fixing things," she said faintly in response. Whether he considered them square or not didn't matter...and there were other issues with the way he tossed out the offer. "You'd be working a lot more extra random jobs to cover what I can fix, you know. Besides, it's sort of at least halfway my fault they're breaking more things and--I guess it's too late now to disable that beacon, yeah? I could do that, but if they already radioed for reinforcements...and what exactly does 'first chance' mean? Airlocks are pretty accessible, after all, and I'm not real partial to the way my hair behaves in a zero-G, zero-everything environment."

This babbling continued as she took the gun he offered to cradle it in her arms along with the helmet, and as she followed his confident strides forward. "Cover...oh gods you're serious. Are you serious? This is...not what you want to do with this."

Alex did not do weapons.

"It's great you can defend us against them. But you really shouldn't have to defend yourself against me too, yeah?" She was, in fact, inept with guns, the opposite of useful. The Agency had despaired of her, had tried to find other tactical methods for her to employ. But she couldn't exactly hobble the ships out there unless they connected and she didn't exactly have the little devices handy that would render them adrift in space. Handy, no, but she'd bet anything that storage room had had everything she needed to at least rig some IEDs. Not that that was particularly use--Boarding party. She blinked at the captain's back. "If they both hook up to our ship...I can build something that will keep them here while we get away. Or--and this is your call but I really don't want to do it and have you leave without me--I could go over there and 'fix' their ships in person."

Both ideas had merit. Both could get a little more explosive than she usually liked. "Keep in mind my repair jobs don't normally render a ship immobile or blown to bits. But it is a thing. I can. Do." She shrugged, her arms full of tools and a weapon she didn't dare use lest she singe the hair off Zasz's head--or worse. "And at least that way you won't get a chance to accuse me of trying to kill you." Probably these were terrible ways to reassure her rescuer that she had any level of expertise in anything.

RE: Welcome to the Greenhouse [Closed] - Ghostly - 01-07-2016

To start off with, no, this was neither Zasz's first time dealing with a boarding party, or kidnapping royalty. The Greenhouse however, was Captain Fenris's sanctuary, an intrusion penetrating his base of operations had not been unheard of, but certainly was it by no means a common occurrence. Zasz took this as an affront, wounding his pride by what were essentially hired thugs of a somewhat more prestigious nature throwing a brick through the metaphorical window of his house. The scouts from the princess's empire were likely to be highly trained combatants, but so too was Zasz, and naturally, the slaver was never one to fight by traditional rules. This was his turf, and he did not doubt for a second he'd show them what pain they'd wrought themselves by siding against Zasz Fenris. There were dark corners of the universe that few walked without a careful eye, a gun in one hand, and a selection of carefully uttered phrases. Zasz had acquaintances that were profoundly adept at finding a place for individuals to have themselves...lose their way, so to speak. Unfortunately, or fortunately for the fighter pilots there just wasn't the opportunity to spare to throw them to those wolves, but if he had been betrayed by the provider of his contract, then there would be hell befalling each and every party involved, especially the abrasive princess, Jallee.

At Alex's colorful description of what she believed an expedited departure from this ship meant in his company Zasz found himself having difficulty containing a hearty chuckle from escaping those scarred lips of his. Had her luck always been so poor as to assume the worst in everyone she came across? To be fair, considering her recent captivity and the tales from which she shared, he could not exactly blame her for deciding on Zasz as a less than benevolent captain, not even taking into consideration that he was quite the scoundrel in many circles. About to cut her off, she continued on with her rambling once the shotgun was placed into her already struggling hands.

Whatever the reason, Alex seemed to fit Zasz like the perfect implant. Were her circumstances for arriving aboard his ship nigh impossible to stage, he'd have his suspicions on a ploy from a third party to wrangle in on the numerous bounties garnered over the years. Zasz connected on a personal level with few, and Alex was no exception to the rule as of yet, but in time perhaps she could be a confident as well as an assistant. The flow of the current into the future was always in flux, whichever path one might end up on was never quite certain. "Well spoken, Alex Winger. Then for as long as you'd like, I'd love for you to provide your technical services to my needs." Pausing, Zasz added an addendum, which he was not entirely sure of being necessary, but figured a bonus all the same. "I can pay of course." Where such funds would be acquired she'd surely learn in due course, but by then she'd be stuck with him for the long haul.

With Alex's defiant stance against his offered weapon, given to her for her own safety in his eyes, the mechanized man removed it from her encumbered state like plucking a leaf from a tree, reattaching it to the mag-clamp on his back with an audible 'click'. That invasive stare of his broke away from Alex's still stripped figure for another spell as he turned his attention to Jallee again. "They won't be like this one. The pyrotechnics are limited to her bloodline, perhaps a few scattered cases from what little I read. I didn't think hers would be so developed, but clearly I was wrong. In addition to their differences, the soldiers coming aboard will know how to hit what they shoot at." Zasz's speech came to an abrupt halt as those metallic digits wove through the pulsing crimson locks of the princess. What would he do with her now? The chance to prepare a special anesthetic was lost with the imminent boarding, perhaps before he even finished with this assault she'd wake up in a state far more furious than before, and there were no suitable method to hold her on his vessel, at least not yet.

His gauntlet hidden by the backing of the couch traveled slightly lower to a far too delicate neck to be held by such a grasp. Zasz could snap her neck right here and be done with the problem child, detonate her collar later and attribute it to a malfunction. Enemies would be made, but the lie would keep his name off of particular black records in his line of work. Sensors across tips of his fingers allowed for her pulse to be felt, slow and steady. A quiet sigh, Zasz lifted his grip to rest it atop the furnishing. The slaver had his own moral code to stand by, one he'd not broken before no matter how easy it would turn tide of struggles he faced in the past. He was no heartless killer if he could help it, especially not towards those that did not represent an immediate threat to his own life. That said, the intruders lives were likely forfeit, but that was simply a matter of the fact that Zasz had no room to spare for one member of the Russlion empire, not to mention three.

"They've already docked, I'm just not certain what I'd have you do with their crafts just yet." Zasz let loose another laugh pushing the Jallee situation from his thoughts at least until the scouts were dealt with. Whatever damage the irate vixen could do probably wouldn't be any worse than being bombarded by military grade fighter ships -- he hoped, anyways. He'd give a backhanded wave for his partner to stick close by as the massive armored male led the way to the main entrance leading out of the common area, dismissing the notion of Alex wandering off on her own. Through the sliding doors, a set a stairs leading up and down were present on each side, Zasz maneuvered the narrow, declining set of rails and grates to the landing on the next level, exiting the stairway into a far more cramped passage in the Greenhouse, one of the many connecting corridors to more critical areas of the maintenance levels below the main floor. Navigating the length which barely allowed the suited figure space, Zasz looked to posses just enough room to turn around, so he'd talk without facing Alex for this rare occasion. "Were their ships not burrowed into the water processing and coolant facility, I'd be down for seeing those fighters demolished." Each array of doors the duo passed through brought them closer to the invaders, and were the mechanic privy to Zasz's mannerisms she'd know how intent his focus narrowed on the plans formulating in that cyber-enhanced brain of his. "I can take care of the soldiers, I can't cleanly disable their ships." If Alex only knew that her luck with having vessels destroyed around her was shared by Zasz, the Greenhouse being a prolonged, drawn out collapse as he strove to keep it held together by pure will.

Pausing in front of one last especially bulky door to sigh, Zasz lamented how pressed for time the two were to get all of this done. He had hustled Alex along at a pace that allowed barely a second to breathe, let alone discern what was going on. She still would be scurrying along naked, and he did feel bad for the state she'd be in, clutching what few tools and parts she'd grabbed gathered inside his charred helmet. "Like the signal coming from the Diem Vuong, they'll have tracking beacons on them as well. Regardless of them still being attached to the Greenhouse, each of them need to be shut off." Most would look at the slaver as rather brutish and lacking much in the way of technical skills; in spite of them, Zasz was rather intelligent, at least in specific fields. The man with all of his body modifications was required to self-maintain his implants and armor without a technician on hand. That said, he was by no means a versed specialist when it came to star ships. "The facility is through this entrance. When we're inside, find cover fast and try and make your way to their ships. Don't worry about guys with guns, that will be my job, just show me what you can do under duress."

With a hiss from the metal wall opening, the pair would be met with an strong breeze of chilled air. When they had been contained within the maintenance shafts the background noise had been limited to the creaking of the ship's internals, now it was replaced with various warning sirens, violent jets of steam venting from busted pipes likely from where the pair of crafts forcefully boarded the Greenhouse. Massive cylindrical tanks, solid grey and spanning both levels of the dual floored room were spaced around he room in a grid. Entering from the second level, Alex and Zasz were atop of a catwalk connected around the edge of the room and spanning across attached to each of the tanks, which hindered not only their line of sight, but vision of them as well.

In this moment Zasz turned to Alex with that wry grin of confidence he tended to exude in situation that seemed deserving of anything but. Raising a lone digit to his lips, he hushed her as if it weren't obvious to stay as quiet as possible before he tossed his legs over the railing of the walkway to descend suddenly to the ground level. Micro motors and a shock absorbent gel layer gave his landing little more than a dull thud with the force being reduced and dispersed evenly throughout the floor. Zasz cycled through the surveillance cameras located in the room to determine exactly where the intruders were located in reference to himself in order to set the best course of action in dealing with them. Catching sight of one, he enhanced the footage for a better look at what he'd be going up against.

Not heavily armored, as one wouldn't fit in the cockpit one's typical assault crafts were outfitted with in anything bulkier than something like Zasz's suit. He could tell they weren't mercs either, the red hue of their skin visible through the clear visor of their masks, keying them as individuals from Jallee's star system. They were decked out with the works though, both primary and secondary plasma based casters. The make and model were unclear, but he doubted they were cheap knockoffs. A volley from the riffle could probably tear through his own suit if they all hit on point; it certainly could blow his head clear off his shoulders. At his side a handle with a hilt, where a physical edge was lacking, Zasz assumed it to be an energy based blade to match the guns. Any other gear was likely to be hidden within the compartments of their non-mechanized suit. From behind one towering structure to the next, Zasz danced inwards within the room, still trying to locate the other individual who did not seem to be within a camera's radius. Strange how these two hadn't branched out from their forced docking, but Zasz suspected they were not stupid enough to leave themselves open to a strike on his part.

Which left him wondering why the pair would not simply cripple his vessel and wait for reinforcements? Perhaps they intended to fortify this as a position to siege him from? Recovering Jallee alive must be of the utmost importance. Hopefully, Alex would keep a low profile as possible until after Zasz engaged, how he'd do so was yet to be determined. Their ships impacted close to one another, almost stacked vertically, each were located to the right of where Zasz and Alex entered towards the back. One pilot stood at near dead center of the room at a collection of control panels, while the other still evaded location...scratch that, from behind one of the containers by their ships. The gleam of a raised riffle keeping a watch on his partner -- bait. Were they expecting him so soon? Backing up, Zasz made his way opposite the duo of crashed vessels to the wall at his back. He'd draw them away first to give Alex some breathing room and attack whenever he caught eye of the mechanic reaching the first one. From his gauntlet he'd wrap a trio of collars around several narrow pipes before skirting along the outside of the room away from his set trap.

Keeping an eye on the security feed, Zasz detonated the collars, the explosions themselves were concentrated and confined, barely loud enough to be caught over the gaps in the warning sirens, but the shrill creak of metal against itself as the pipes gave way and coolant fluid rushed across the floor would surely catch the attention of whom he wanted it to. Now he waited as the the closest of the two intruders began approaching the site of the explosion. The other by the ships did not follow immediately until after his partner would be at the threshold of leaving his line of sight, in which case he had no choice but to disregard his attempt at an ambush to try and cover his ally. Little did he know that Zasz was planning such a feint of his own.

RE: Welcome to the Greenhouse [Closed] - danixiewrites - 02-24-2016

For all she was short and slight, Alex packed a galaxy of mechanical knowhow in her tiny form. She preferred to put it to use. To prove everyone wrong. It wasn't easy. Since her mouth was almost constantly moving when she wasn't headfirst down some maintenance panel and tangled in wires, and since that mouth had a tendency to say very stupid things, it wasn't often that a captain or work crew leader took her seriously. Too often, she wound up with jobs where she could be seen but not heard, and with no level of difficulty to speak of. The Agency was the first to sit up and take notice, the first to stick her in more challenging roles.

Captain Fenris was about to become the fifth. She wouldn't let him down.

"Thank you, Captain," she said with an obvious strain of relief in her voice as he slapped the weapon back onto his suit. "You won't regret it. As far as payment goes," she paused, too, and chewed on her bottom lip. "I'll take not getting my head blown off for today. Tomorrow's another day though. We get there, I might have demands. Like more fresh groceries. That was pretty fraggin' delicious."

She grinned for a fleeting moment, the tainted memory of her vastly non-nutritious stay aboard the Diem Vuong coloring what had been meant as a tease. From there, her mind was already working through possible ship designs. Having never encountered the Russlion people before, she didn't know what she'd be facing when she breeched the enemy's scout vessels, but it would be tech...and she'd make it work.

The Agency's less annoyed-with-her-in-general personnel were also the ones who taught her eminently more useful things like why to redirect the flow of an enemy's engine so it would suck the oxygen out of the life support systems and become some fiery thing that would go BOOM. She'd known how. In Alex's mind, anyone with two brain cells and a magtorch could reroute a conductor chain. But knowing and practical application of such things were certainly not the same. The "why" in this case had attached to their hull.

In the wrong spot.

Taking them out along with their own vital ship's systems was not an option, after all. "I don't need a repeat of floating through the black with minimal life support and a jillion tons of metal." She scurried along behind Zasz as he strategized, her helmet bucket rattling and hair bouncing along her bare spine.

The docking choice was a disappointment, but her willingness to make things explode and the actual need for such a thing to occur was another one of the finer points she'd taken to heart over the years. "Signal beacons it is, then." Alex sniffled. "No way to know how soon they'd be able to detach the vessels, either, otherwise there could be a timed malfunction. Of sorts."

As he gave clipped orders she nodded vigorously, gray eyes eager to be plundering in a mess of wires posthaste. "Duck, run, and don't get lasered. Yes sir, Captain sir!" A cheeky salute. Good luck, she went to say next, but then the door was venting and she crouched to one side.

As she moved into the area, the grating bit into her feet. Not the hiss and slap of a whip or the slice of a blade. Tolerable, even, after what she'd been through on the enemy ship. But certainly not pleasant. The Captain's expression bolstered her confidence and had Alex shaking off the discomfort. Go time. He disappeared over one side and she made her way through the meandering scaffolds, heading for the smoke and sizzle that indicated where their uninvited guests had made their grand entrance.

Uninvited guests. Almost snorting aloud, Alex caught the urge before the sound could emerge. Her eyes watered from the aborted reaction and excess steam. What was she but an uninvited guest herself?

Granted. She hadn't brought weapons to the party. And well, she was more the type of uninvited guest who gets drugged and stuffed in the giant cake to wake up and pop out the top.......that was how those surprise things worked, wasn't it? Icing everywhere and her naked as a frellin' red giant? Her thoughts became more inane as she realized the source of her anxiety: An explosion. And another, and a third.

But still no laser fire. Were they distracted? Not feeling clear to run, Alex still scrambled down to the floor. Plastering herself to a far wall seemed the best course of action in lieu of rushing the first ship's entrance. Just until she knew the coast was clear. Nervous, she plucked at the gear in the helmet, then stared mutely down at the collection of odds and ends. What if the princess's scouts didn't have the same tech as--no. She shut it down ruthlessly and clenched the helmet between her breasts. So long as the ships weren't biological--and the Captain hadn't indicated they would be--this was something she could do. Would do. As soon as the coast was clear...

She saw one of them through the steam, the soles of his/her/eir feet as they stalked away. There was nothing but a container between her and the gaping wound to the side of the Greenhouse now...and Alex began creeping toward it.

RE: Welcome to the Greenhouse [Closed] - Ghostly - 05-23-2016

This entire encounter had been rigged in Zasz's favor from the get-go, whether the soldiers knew it or not. Were the trio in an open floor plan such as a street or even the common room where Jallee soundly slept, his options would be severely limited. Lacking the cover to close the distance on their plasma rifles would leave him an easy target if their aim was remotely decent. These two were likely special ops of some sort, accustomed to guerrilla tactics, or so he should hope for the title he placed on their heads. If not then he'd question why pilots would even bother to act as a boarding party. In this facility, however, the sheer noise alone from the machinery and warning sirens masked any sound he could make save for high explosives; steam from thermal release vents and damaged pipelines would hide his movements. These massive tanks, one of which he was currently rounding with careful steps, provided ample cover while he observed the paths the pair followed to investigate the distraction he'd set off.

Dampeners within his ear canals activated shutting out the world around him. All that remained were the slow and steady breaths he took, the rhythmic pulsing of his heart, and the gentle strumming of a violin. [A little mood music] An excerpt from one of the greatest musical composers that had ever existed, a shame he had not been privy to experience the work of Bach first hand. In situations such as this, the ability to hear would be of little use; the game would be one of the mind and how well he could register threats and deal with them while minimizing the risks towards himself, and Alex. Music helped his focus to allow him to dial in on a single directive, to deliver an absolute loss to these invaders.

Up above, Zasz's attention wavered to another segment of his ocular implant, a camera directed to where Alex should have been stealthily approaching the set of ships impacted into the back of the room. Sure enough, there was his mechanic, a glimpse of her was barely caught as she still hid from plain sight behind one of the drums. Beaming with pride and knowing that she'd be alright on her own, Zasz readied himself for his initial strike. The one that had been closest to the explosion had in fact reached the site, curiously, but cautiously inspecting what might have occurred. His/her partner continued on their approach having just made it to the center console, about one hundred feet back. Lifting one foot, the captain allowed his magnetic clamp to attach to the side of the container, his second boot following suit. From any point of view Zasz seemed to be in an awkward horizontal position, but with his mechanical augmentation there was little strain felt on his end.

The timing would have to be just right, lest he show himself too early and catch a volley of burning plasma to his rugged features. He'd have about tens seconds of leeway before the other threat could respond depending on how quickly he noticed the attack. While most would need several moments in order to break out into a full sprint, Zasz muscles were primed from the instant he decided to move. The unsuspecting intruder had his rifle at the ready, but clearly not enough so. Perhaps they'd taken the wrong moment to blink, or they were mere milliseconds off from being able to fully raise the weapon and pull the trigger. Zasz could see the surprise in their widened stare as he hit them like a mack truck. As he rounded the corner he latched onto whatever appendage he could with a vicelike grip, in this case, their wrist. With them in tow, Zasz detached from the cylindrical tower reveling in the fact that he carried so much force behind his journey that could he feel their shoulder pop right out of its socket along with their wrist shattering from the slaver's hold. Naturally, the rifle flew from their grasp with the clash.

Thrown to the ground, the red skinned individual was quite disorientated and in a significant amount of pain, but that did not stop them from staggering to their feet and drawing the blade from their hip. Igniting the energy sword with a low octave hum, it seemed from the lack of a rush in trying to strike at Zasz that they intended to bide their time for support. A smart play if Zasz were to allow it. Instead, he pressured the soldier by advancing into his territory with a couple lengthy steps. With combat algorithms being run ahead of his own actions it acted as a pseudo precognition. When everything ran at peak performance he could tell the direction a projectile would be heading towards, an individual's moves could be read to come up with a counter-play. In this scenario his body was given the signal to side step to the left to avoid a downward swing, then to duck and keep low to the ground, sweeping with his leg to trip the opponent. In but a moment this transpired according to plan, save for when the pilot jumped back from the kick to pull out his secondary firearm. They saw how Zasz predicted their swings and sought to shoot him at a range. Still, they were far too close. With a hard kick off of the metal grated floor, the captain of the Greenhouse tumbled forward to knock the pistol out of his grip with a firm backhand.

One uppercut to their stomach to knock the wind out of them. The weight of his arm in even a less than full bodied blow still brought enough power to buckle the light alloy armor they were wearing. From beneath the visor, Zasz could see a gasping wheeze for a breath that wound not come.

As what had to be considered a monster to this fighter rose from the ground a second right hook would come from him to impact their ribs between a break in the armor, the tips of his knuckles cracking what were to him quite brittle bones.

When Zasz was finally standing at full height to look down at the crippled pilot he had already taken a step back to wind up a final hit. Briefly he contemplated the fact that he was going to physically crush the life out of this startled fool. It gave him no true relief or solace, certainly, he did not revel in snuffing out the light in their eyes, but what it did secure was his own personal safety and that of Alex. In that he could live with breaking his moral code one of these few times. That metal gauntlet of his descended in a blinding fury to send a rippling punch to their temple. Glass shattered from their mask spraying harmless shrapnel at his feet, Zasz didn't need to hear the snapping of their spinal cord to understand the reason why they collapsed to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.

That only left the other.

Seven...eight...nine...

What had been a seamless bout of combat had in truth only lasted several seconds, all of which had been slowed down from Zasz's perspective with the way his neural chemicals were regulated. He was coming off from that enhanced state at a rapid pace though, and from his false optic, he could see this last inconvenience approaching from out of sight, rifle in hand to see what happened to their partner. Reaching downward, the still active energy sword would be picked up and subsequently flung off into the distance. Of course, there was more to it than that; calculations based on weight and speed to determine just where the blade would need to be at the right instant.

That aforementioned period was when the assailant came into physical view of Zasz, though the juncture of their continued existence had come to a close as white hot plasma permeated their skull.

Thump.

Eleven...twelve...thirteen....

Complete victory without either even able to pull the trigger on their guns. All that money and time put into their training and equipment. What good had it brought them?

The cacophony of the room that had been blocked out for his reign of terror, came rushing back to his senses as the dampeners were turned off much to a curl of his scarred lips into a frown. Each of them most likely had personal distress beacons of their own and Zasz used the next minute or so searching their corpses for anything of the sort. Crushing them under an iron fist, he returned his attention towards Alex on her progress, as well as his person as he began heading over to the site where she was hopefully being successful in her endeavors. "Alex, I'm through down here. Any progress up there." Not quite to where she would be working, but getting close enough, Zasz hollered in a hoarse voice in an attempt to be heard over the alarms and general noise. Without his helmet though, he couldn't access the communication device he'd given her.

RE: Welcome to the Greenhouse [Closed] - danixiewrites - 07-23-2016

There was a crash behind her as she ducked into the first breech zone, the makeshift airlock that led to the other ship. Alex jerked, her curiosity as much a physical reaction as a mental one. Of course this meant she entered the enemy ship walking backwards. Heedless of security left behind by the enemy (thankfully none, which spoke to either their confidence or their stupidity) she backed around the corner in case the noise meant a foe had circled on her.

Whatever was going down in the vital systems room, however, it wasn't aimed at her. At least, she didn't think so. No laser fire glowed through the smoke. Didn't mean someone wasn't standing there, but seeing as she had no hope of seeing through it without tech of some kind, she had to press inward on the smaller craft. "Surely the Captain's having better luck on that point. Good marker for success, that I'm not dead."

"When did the indicators for a good day in my life start including whether or not I'd been shot?" She wondered aloud as she turned and blinked at the interior of the ship.

Small, cramped spaces. For a warrior pilot in armor. For a mechanic like Alex, it was an easily navigable, and she slid into the single pilot's seat to assess the controls. Nothing had taken her down on entry, but spaceship pilots, as a whole, were possessive bastards. Just because there wasn't anything at the door didn't mean there wasn't anything waiting on the internal systems. "It'd be my luck, the one time I don't check," she murmured to herself as her fingers slid over controls, "I yank out a component tied to a big ol' frellin' 'if I can't have my ship no one can' temper tantrum."

It took only a few seconds to find, and it wasn't as extreme as it could have been. Not even biometric, which meant she just had to do a bypass and then she could pull the beacon out like a surgeon would dispense with a bad kidney. Alex fished a spanner out of the helmet and pried up the panel in half a moment more. It was a shame really. Security on one's ship might have been possessive as corporation wageslave tag mania, but it was nowhere near as harmful. It showed pride. Two newly crossed wires and she wrinkled her nose at the metal platform under her toes.

She was going to have to slide under the damn thing with her whole body pressed against fixtures and levers and poky bits. Usually, a nice thick uniform would keep her from scratches and even, in some instances, accidental electrocution. Alex bit her lip, then slid under the control board. Her back protests immediately, her skin seemed to cringe from the cold and the inconvenient pinching that came from her bare ass dragging over a cold metal floor and her boobs and hips taking the nicks from every design flaw the alien ship had to offer.

That was as difficult as it got. New reddened welts over the bits of her skin that had still been pale and unblemished, scratches playing connect-the-dots with her freckles, newly cramping muscles, and a wealth of disgust. The components themselves lacked even the slightest attempt at a surge or shock-based security, once the panels were up and her tools plunged inward. The amount of letdown she felt at that was surprising. "You'd think I'd be thrilled that one fraggin' thing has gone right in the past galactic day."

Alex chalked it up to disappointment in the enemy's technology. "I mean," she griped, yanking the now-defunct beacon from its mooring and shoving it into the helmet, "This is just...lazy.

She was still--unsurprisingly--talking to herself as she backed out of the crawlspace and rushed back toward the airlock. "Right off a pre-fab assembly line, no-customization-please-thanks-bye lazy. Pilot's either looking at a rental, borrowing the ship from his government and doesn't feel personal ownership like...at all...or he's just a confident asshole," she decided. "Hope the next one's more of a challenge."

More crashes came from Captain Fenris's ship, and the smoke seemed thicker than when she'd first headed out. Still, she crept out, determined to get this right and show him what she was made of. More than some tiny, mousy creature with red hair and an unhealthy amount of questions. And as she crept sideways to enter the second ship, Zasz's pronouncement of success reached her.

"One down, one to go, sir," she answered after digging the little handheld device out of the bottom of his damaged helmet. "First one was easy, you know, they really didn't think about someone coming aboard at all."

The airlock to the second ship snapped closed behind her. "Oh moons," she swore.

A klaxon blared once, then an unfriendly robotic voice--somehow colder than Zasz's unaffected behind-the-helmet tone--announced, "Unregistered lifeform detected. Safety protocols initiated."

She had barely enough time to curse herself for wishing the difficulty level would be raised for the other warrior's ship before a deafening hiss filled the area. Alex's eyes widened at the cloud of green that emerged from a cabin down the passageway.

Safety protocols? Her brain wailed. What kind of safety protocols involve gassing your own ship?

"Second one won't be as easy," she reported then, bare feet slapping against the metal deck as she raced to find an override. "I'll...uh. I'll get back to you in a tick."

If I make it that long.

RE: Welcome to the Greenhouse [Closed] - Ghostly - 09-30-2016

Up above on the catwalk, Zasz caught a glimpse of the naked streak that was his redheaded mechanic. "One down, one to go, sir," said Alex in her typically active voice through the communicator that he'd given her prior. Zasz was able to listen in with those earlier mentioned dampeners implanted in his inner ear but was incapable of replying apart from shouting up at the woman, which he had no intention of doing just yet. Instead, he'd take the momentary peace to conduct a more thorough examination of his ship's systems. Without his helmet, such a task was executed inefficiently, but Zasz could fall back upon his cybernetic eye, which allowed him better access than sitting in front of a terminal.

Subspace engines were operating at seventy-five percent capacity propelling the Greenhouse away from the initial site of the attack. Honestly, Zasz was surprised they hadn't burned out yet, but he supposed that with the hyperspace engines drawing next to no power that most systems were free to suck up on the excess energy that was rarely available. Speaking of, he opened up a diagnostic on the hyperspace drives and almost had himself a laugh at the results. Those fighters had nearly bombed the engines to the point of critical degradation. As it stood, the Greenhouse was unable to perform long distance jumps. To travel anywhere substantial the aid of warp gates would be required. Hell, it would take weeks of subspace flight at maximum output simply to make it to one of them, and that was only to get them to a station for repairs. All in all, the Greenhouse was rather crippled in the void of dead space. On the bright side, the containment cells were fully functional, to which Zasz inwardly twirled a finger at the weak silver lining.

"Second one won't be as easy," Alex chimed in again, her worried tone coming in crystal clear over the comm along with the intense hissing in the background. "I'll...uh. I'll get back to you in a tick." Zasz snapped to the present, pushing off worrying about the future and instead focussing on the safety of his companion. Head darting every which way for the best means to ascend to the second floor, the captain settled on locking his magnetic clamps to the exterior of one of the many metal cylinder storage tanks. Leaping once he was high enough, Zasz managed to reach the location Alex used to breach the pair of ships. Only then did the towering male stagger for a moment, clutching for the nearest railing to support his massive frame.

A combination of sleep deprivation, mental exhaustion through chemical manipulation, and pushing his limits consistently in the past couple of events meant that Zasz was reaching his monumental limits. There was still so much to do, but rest was not an option, no matter how nice it sounded right about now. Pushing onward, he pressed those thick gauntlets of his into the rigid door of the ship inadvertently sending a shudder through it. "Alex, if I have to drag you out of there and save your ass yet again, I'll be quite cross with you." Of course, he was joking around. He did wonder for a moment if she could even hear his tired, gruff grumbling past the barrier. Zasz felt oddly attached to the one individual he hadn't thrown into a cage in months, and if he had to tear the vessel piece by piece with his bare hands to rescue the mechanic he'd do just that.

RE: Welcome to the Greenhouse [Closed] - danixiewrites - 03-18-2017

Sliding her bare ass into a stranger's long-distance flight seat--moons knew who and what had sat there before--was hardly on the top of Alex's bucket list. No, that dubious honor belonged to her present ability to shut down the alien scout ship's security measures before passing out from holding her breath. Or worse.

She frantically maneuvered through the screens but ten seconds later the intuitive pathing of controls led straight to red lights bathing the room and turning the green smoke a hazy brown.

"UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS. UNAUTHORIZED--"

Alex slapped her palm over the comm to kill the warning. Yes. Pretty fraggin' obvious that's what we've got here, isn't it? She barely stopped herself from spouting the gripe aloud, remembering as her lips had begun to part that she'd have to breathe in afterwards--and that the gas was descending at a rapid rate. She could do this--she WOULD do this, the first task she had an opportunity to prove herself to her new captain. Moons anyway but deactivating the ship beacons was my own blasted plan! Five more seconds slipped past as she dropped to her knees in front of the panel. Come on, come on, come on...where's your override, you star-drecked space slug!

Ten more seconds of rummaging through wires, tracing back-paths to ports this pilot had clearly cared about. He'd been the leader, no doubt about it. Maybe even had some fancy medals back home--or whatever his people's equivalent is. Color-coded things linking to non-color-coded things and he thought he was clever, did he? Not against Alex's measure. She found the beacon override before the gas cutoff, higher than the other ship's had been given the rewiring job and extra security. No matter. Wasting more precious seconds dismantling it as she had the other ship, Alex grinned, her cheeks puffed out like some small old Earthen woodland creature. There. Mission complete. Captain will like that. Maybe space me later rather than sooner.

Too bad she wasn't out of those woodland creature forests yet. She ran her gaze back over the panel and this time the right color combo jumped out at her. It wasn't perfect, but those wires would indeed get the gas out of the room. With a short exhale, her small hands fitted into a tight crevice under the control board and she wrapped two cords around her index fingers. One good pull...aaaand they were free. Dragging the wires with her, Alex groped along the floor for the helmet. A sharp blade among her tools came up and she stripped the coating in a rush. Splicing the wires together, she jammed the twisted mess back into a different board altogether--the vacuum tubes. The gas would still be pumping, but it would be jettisoning out into space, not into the cabin with her.

Sparks, hot and angry, sizzled around her hand.

It had never been in Alex's skillset to be able to hold her breath. Probably because to do so, she'd actually have to keep her mouth shut for an extended period of time. Even on a calmer day, that wasn't a reasonable request.

So when she yelped and jerked her hand back to suck on her palm, it was typical that she'd top off the mistake by sucking in a lungful of air. And while the hissing that had been bombarding her ears had turned into a low hum, the gas hadn't yet left the room.

"Oh, frell. That hurt," she grumbled, reaching a hand up to pat the panel. "But we got it done, didn't we, you lovely piece of scrap--" An unhealthy bout of coughing seized the rest of her words and clamped down on her throat. More air pulled painfully into her lungs. "Frrre--" Wounds she'd tried to forget about wrenched at her muscles as her body wracked with coughing again. Her eyes watered until she couldn't see, and she found herself driving her small fists onto the panel buttons overhead at random, trying desperately to find something that would open a door, speed up the air cleaners, something.

Anything, as her lungs turned as molten as the sting of a whip across her tortured shoulders.

RE: Welcome to the Greenhouse [Closed] - Ghostly - 04-06-2017

Silence rang out clearer than the klaxon alarms blaring after his joking quip to Alex. He supposed the armor plating of the fighter craft was quite soundproof, that or Alex had gone and gotten herself knocked out or worse. This question gave the slaver cause for both alarm and pause, as he struggled with a momentary conundrum. In the fleeting moments that Alex spent fighting against the clock to not only disable the beacon but save her hide, Zasz debated whether or not to leave her to her death and write her off as a loss. Despite his earlier statements of saving her and thoughts of her usefulness to his operations, if Alex had done her job and bit the bullet, Zasz could vent her along with this entire encounter and be none the worse for wear, apart from the critical damage done to his vessel.

The captain had escaped from tighter spots in the past.

Those heavy, metallic gauntlets removed from the craft's hull as Zasz monitored the signals repeating outward from the Greenhouse, and sure enough, true to her word, Alex cut off the second to last beacon. All that remained was the one aboard the Diem Vuong, which he could easily tend to himself.

In that cold, calloused heart of his there a scale was weighed to the threat Alex could bring upon him, opposed to the skill of her ability and compatibility she shared with Zasz's personality. Two pieces to the left, one to the right...back and forth the measurements went in his mindscape.

Then resonated a dull thud against the tinted cockpit, then another, and Zasz simply tossed his personal metrics aside. Zasz was a man of his word, and not a coward. Such actions were so unlike the slaver that he felt a brief twinge of shame wash over him. That only doubled his renewed resolve to get his mechanic to safety. Oculars darting across the surface of the craft, he scanned for any means to readily access the cockpit only to grit his teeth in dismay that the force he'd need to apply might dislodge the vessel from his own ship.

Grappling onto the hatch with whatever leverage he could muster, the captain pulled with perhaps a touch too much exertion. A groan earned from the Greenhouse as the fighter's hull shifted and brought friction against the larger vessel. This wasn't how he'd prefer to die, spaced in a botched rescue attempt, but his options were slim. Alex seemed to answer his prayers though with her struggles inside, the click of latches releasing the cockpit door and allowing Zasz to fling it upward.

Greeted by a pale flailing hand, he wasted not a second in freeing her from the inner working with a firm tug into his solid arms. Like Alex, Zasz would be greeted with a hiss of green gas, though it was a feeble amount, the filters in his lungs caught the foreign particulate and analyzed it as he carried the redhead away from the source for her to breath in the clean air. In theory, the defense mechanism should only be lethal to the races encompassing the Russlion's empire, which was a rather limited selection. The gas would still feel like a kick in the lungs, likely more painful than that descriptor, but she'd live once it filtered out if her system. "You did it, Alex, shut down the beacons and managed to free yourself. You are full of surprises." A deep laugh from the captain as he rocked her small frame as gently as possible in his sturdy one. "Now we just have to get to the Diem Vuong, shut down its transmitter, get the fuck out of this region on sublight engine speed alone before other enemies show up, and hope the ship doesn't tear itself apart. That doesn't sound so bad, right?" Even at his worst, Zasz Fenris tried to remain optimistic, though he wasn't sure he sounded it in the moment.