Print

Please login or register.
1 Hour 1 Day 1 Week 1 Month Forever
Login with username, password and session length

[Z.Sinraali]

Taka Roas met, at a distance or an oblique angle, the holo stereotype of a scientist: Bespectacled, labcoat-clad, and unkempt of hairstyle. Closer inspection, a privilege that lately hadn't been afforded to many people outside of her team, suggested otherwise. The spectacles were tinted a vibrant red, the labcoat was monogrammed and tailored to her figure, and her auburn hair was out of place on account of having just laid out one of the men--currently attempting confiscate her team's latest shipment of equipment and supplies--with an elbow to the face.

That one had been guilty of a crude remark in a language that he may or may not have assumed she understood or heard. The others were still standing primarily because they'd stopped to help him, but also because she held an acute understanding that her employer wasn't fond of violent solutions to problems. He paid too well to risk adding her temper to the annoyance these thugs were going to cause when he found out about this.

It was this last fact that she was attempting to communicate to their apparent leader, a Deteis with the logo of the Caldari State embroidered on his shoulder and embossed on his shiny brass belt buckle. There was no name tape on the uniform, but she didn't care what it was anyways.

"You know our capsuleer employer isn't going to negotiate your damn bribe to let this go. He'll just buy more."

"Are you trying to impress me, jaiji? Capsuleers might be rich, but they aren't exempt from common sense in bringing hazardous materials onto a populated station."

"AD Rehitte has personally reviewed our safety and handling protocols here deemed them satisfactory."

"Do you have that in writing?"

"Yes." It was only partially a bluff. It wasn't in writing yet, but if their employer asked for it, it would doubtless be provided, given their prior relationship and the Assistant Director's support for this project.

"So go get it."

"Quit messing with our equipment and I will!"

He smirked at her.

-----------
"Quit worrying," said the Mannar girl in her blue pinafore dress and seafoam blouse. "The boss isn't that hard to impress." The signature block on the mails they'd exchanged regarding this job had read 'Artesia Scollis, Chief of Personnel,' but she didn't look like a Chief of Personnel. Too young. Or maybe that was just a Federal plastic-surgery-and-makeup thing. Or a being-light-years-from-the-war thing. It would've been rude to ask, so he didn't.

"His ex, I'm not so sure about, but from what he tells me, just be a nice proper Caldari and she'll go along with it." She set down the tea tray she'd brought in on the small round conference table. The tea--which smelled perfectly authentic--seemed to match the advice, except for the part where it was being served deep within Federation space.

Before he could finish figuring out exactly how proper to act, the wall panel beeped twice. Artesia Scollis, Chief of Personnel, went to check it. With her back turned, he couldn't see her expression, but she definitely stiffened up as she accepted the connection. "Saisieni Madame. How're you today?"

The response was icy, triggering a non-negligible physiological stress response, "Just fine. Are you ready?"

"Aye. Stand by." Artesia tapped the console again and a volumetric projection of a thin, black-clad Deteis woman shimmered into existence like an underwater oil spill breaking the surface. He stood up to greet her, but her attention was occupied in scrutinizing the room with pursed lips before turning to Artesia. "Where's Ze'ev?"

"Be along shortly, madame. I'll tell him you're here." She didn't wait for a response before briskly stepping out the allegedly-wood door.

The woman slid her inquisitor's gaze to him. The squint turned into a quick smile. "Hello. I assume you're the one wanting to teach my daughters."

He bowed to her.

-----------
Hurray drugs.

Not the experimental kind, the kind based in innovations on the old booster technology, the kind that his corporation invents, tests, and sells to treat illness, the kind that capsuleers exploit to make themselves more efficient killing machines. These are more prosaic, just a couple hundred milligrams of dimenhydrinate and ibuprofen. They're not capable of eliminating the thin, disembodied feeling that accompany his clonesickness, but they do keep down the more tangible symptoms that at the moment felt like one of Mount Kahika'ea's¹ landslides rumbling through his brain.

Better be the right guy for the job.

His right-hand woman seems to agree. She says finding potentials for this position has been a singular pain in the ass.

He agrees.

Let's get this over with.

-----------
Her office is furnished in shades of burgundy and maroon, but the volumetric overlay of the distant conference room has rendered it a venous purple. "I still don't understand why you won't get an Ishukone tutor, Ze'ev."

"Because none of them want to move out to the far end of space to do it. Except for that one you vetoed for being a lech."

She thinks back to the last check he'd written for Toma and Akichiya's private schooling. "For capsuleer money? And you can't tell me he wasn't."

"Asking two people who obviously don't get along how they ever had sex is not lechery! Yeah, it's a little off-color for an in-"

Recalling the details of the interview and its aftermath briefly blurs her vision at the edges. "Disgusting. And if you'd move back to the State, you wouldn't have that problem."

"For the millionth time, I go where the resources are, and Solitude's it."

A buzz insinuating itself across the connection fails to deter her reply. "I did some research, there's mykoserocin in the State too."

Ze'ev stands up, somewhere out there. "Of a type the Company doesn't need. You want me to screw them to make looking for a tutor easier?"

Duty my ass. We wouldn't be here if you believed in duty. She opts to change the subject rather than verbalize her doubts about his sense of personal responsibility. "What is that noise?"

"Artie needs to talk to me. If you stop interrogating me I could get the door."

"Fine."

It isn't long after he mutes the connection that he comes back. "Something's come up. Just tell me yes or no, we're just arguing about irrelevant bullshit at this point."

"Fine."

-----------
The landslide starts up again with a boulder of a Brutor in a cheap suit flying out of the guest chair in an apparent attempt to run him down in the doorway. "Captain Sinraali. Thank you for seeing me. Most capsuleers aren't so easy to talk to."

Ze'ev just manages to parry the boulder's thrust of a handshake. "No problem. Artie said your name was Golds?"

"Yes sir, Agent Golds, SCC Special Investigations."

"Mm." Ze'ev squeezes past the man towards his desk. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Lemon iced tea, please."

The refrigerator lurking in the side wall is willing to disgorge a pitcher of chilled tea, which he pours into two glasses retrieved from the hidden service next to it. "Out of lemons, sorry. Sugar?"

"No thank you."

Ze'ev hands him the glass and sits in his own chair. "So, SCC? I thought this was about Otter...err, Otgund."

"It is, in the end. Do you know an Aiken Soyako?" Agent Golds waits briefly for a response. "Yes, no?"

Ze'ev sighs and answers quietly through stiff lips, "Apparently not."

"Didn't think so. He's just an Achuran newspaper editor, lives with his wife and kids in the Citadel. A few months ago he got a bill from a freight hauler out here in Solitude. Seems a little weird for a guy who's never left the State, doesn't it?" He takes a drink of his tea to give Ze'ev a chance to comment. No such comment is forthcoming. "Being an inter-empire trade issue, he called us to help resolve the issue."

"And how did it get resolved?"

"Oh, we got in touch with the appropriate agencies, rerouted the bill. Easy enough... For him anyways. You, however, owe us about...well, only a few hundred thousand ISK in back taxes, if the records the Federal administration sent us are accurate. Still..."

"I'm not a tax evader, Mr. Golds."

Agent Golds nods, before standing up and going to scoop a teaspoon of sugar into his tea. Turning back around, he nods again, "Not for its own sake, of course. The real reason--well, I don't really care about. Not my business. Regardless, that discrepancy does need to be resolved."

"Of course. I'll tranfer the funds right now."

Agent Golds sets down the tea on Ze'ev's desk. "You'll also immediately cease use of the identity, close down Soyako Holdings, and help us find Mr. Trollurs."

"That explains where he comes in. But he disappeared over four months ago. I haven't managed to track him down so far, why do you think that demand is going to give me any better luck?"

"Do you need reason to look harder?" Agent Golds inquires while clicking open his briefcase and pulling a wide-screen datapad with Otter's goofy face on the display. "He's a member of the Angel Cartel, or at least a regular consultant for them. Our organizational partners were on the verge of nailing him when you helped him jump ship from Core Complexion." He flicks the datapad over to Ze'ev's side of the desk with a clatter.

Ze'ev looks down at the pad, but doesn't pick it up. "I certainly didn't know that at the time."

"Obviously. You're not one of his accomplices, just like you're not a tax evader. But we do need to find him. What information we have is in there."

"That's a hell of a lot more to ask than back taxes and penalties, Agent."

"I suppose. But you obviously want to find him for your own reasons."

Ze'ev grimaced. "I did. I'd gladly let you all deal with him now."

"Your daughter will also find her career greatly enhanced if you assist us."

The grimace turns into a frown, then a glare as Ze'ev stands up. "The hell? Annara believes in the mission of CONCORD. She's an idealist. Runs in the family. She'd leave you bastards in a heartbeat if she knew you were trying to bribe me. Or extort me. Whatever the hell you're trying to do. I'm not a lawyer, I don't know what the term is."

"Captain, please. If idealism runs in your family, then you understand we're trying to make the world a better place by locking this man and his associates up."

"That's why I'm going to give it a shot. And why you're going to leave and get to work on that yourself too." A double beep from his desktop neocom catches his attention. An incoming comm request from Roas' team in Taisy. "If you'll excuse me Agent, I have to take this. I'll have my lawyer contact your office to work out the specifics."

Agent Golds takes hold of his briefcase and rises himself, stepping away with an acknowledging nod. He stops short of the doorway and turns around. "Can you indulge me one more question: Who's Heila Soyako?"

"An escort. Escorts. That's what Soyako Holdings is--was--for. Business I can't have attached to my name."

Agent Golds replies with an incredulous grin and a chuckle, "Nobody's going to stop you from seeing hookers. You're a capsuleer."

"I'm Caldari."

--------

1: Mount Kahika'ea, one of the major peaks of Tierijev IV's northern continent. Its name means 'Sickly Mountain' in Tuapa'ani.

EDIT: Just a few minor revisions and tying the first section in better.

[Z.Sinraali]

Thanks to Shintoko for the Tuapa'ani/'Orelo stuff.

And before anybody says it, yes, I know, tense and perspective shifts galore. This was originally intended as an exercise in using narrative structure to convey emotional tone, but then it gradually expanded into the story of a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. I think the shifts are delineated sufficiently to make it work well enough anyways. Let me know if there's any rogue ones drifting around the wrong places though.

[Vieve]

Part Two of "Piling On" is also a sequel to Jonathan Morrison's "New Horizons".  Blame for this bit of it is mine, all mine, muahahaha -- er, well, they're both at fault for inspiring me to draft a little story about Caldari contract management.

(And yes, Casiella, this is the thing I wrote on Sunday after having such a good word count day with the other project.)
----

Suosio Songenshi hadn't been at the meeting in Jonathan Morrison's office.  For one, she wasn't a ranking officer. For two, she'd been awakened in the middle of her sleep cycle hours before by a shore leave notice.

She hadn't requested any, which suggested that Riskle was again in a mood, and it was safer for both of them if she got off the ship until it was over.  Last time she'd pushed too many of his buttons, she'd developed a sudden headache that'd been bad enough to give her a nose bleed.  Or maybe the button pushing and the headache and the nosebleed weren't related at all, but he'd gone sheet white, picked her up off his bedroom floor, and ran with her in his arms all the way to the infirmary, at least as best she remembered.  Things were really hazy for a few days.

Hells yes, people had talked.

Definitely more so than anyone would have about her breaking into his quarters again, because unlike the previous times, she'd been real quiet about it.  Sure, he'd changed the lock encryption -- again -- but Customs hadn't recruited Suosio right out of her electronics program just because she had a gorgeous ass and knew how to do laundry.  Which was what she was doing in Riskle's quarters that day; putting away the clean and folded clothing she'd stolen when it was dirty and scattered all over the floor.  Unlike all of the other times she'd broken in, he hadn't been in his quarters, and she had no intention of still being there when he got back.

He'd gotten accustomed to her hitting on him.  Learned to tolerate it.  Even had gotten comfortable enough to joke about it on those days when he wasn't getting shit from the rest of the crew ... which didn't happen often, but they weren't unheard of. 

She'd grown to like him again. He'd been a good sport about her abusing him so as to deal with her conflicted emotions over still being alive and aboard the ship and the lingering worry that she wouldn't get out of her Customs commission unless it was feet first. Her supervisor had suddenly come up with a case of IDon'tWantToTalkToYouRightNow as soon as she'd talked to him about an early release.

Suosio hadn't heard from her Customs supervisor since.  She also hadn't known how to tell Riskle that she appreciated his being an emotional punching bag without things getting weird.

So she'd done his laundry.

Once she'd gotten out of the infirmary, she'd ... not...

It'd gotten weird.

He genuinely hadn't wanted to be near her, unless he had to be, and when he had to be, he got real tense.  Stayed professional, didn't freak out or anything, but got real damn tense -- and after those incidents, she started getting unsolicited shore leave notices.

Not quite orders, but she'd taken them as such.  Not that she didn't appreciate having a day off from the monotony of making sure The Herald didn't fly to the wrong gate during any of its milk runs.

Though, there hadn't been an incident in at least a month.

That ths morning's shore leave order didn't have an obvious cause bugged Suosio some, but she wasn't particularly worried about it. She had a few more things to be worried about.  Four other things, to be precise.

"Who are these guys?" she wondered, when her former employer sat down across from her in the diner booth.  She didn't bother pretending she wasn't talking about the Deteis and the three Civire who claimed the booth right next to theirs: they were certainly checking her out.

It wasn't in a hostile way.

It wasn't in an appreciative way either.

She didn't recognize the black and silver gray uniforms they were wearing.  Their weapons?  Hells, yes.  They were all carrying some seriously slick gear.

Suosio's ex-boss didn't like having an entourage: she'd had always argued that one slowed her down and made it more obvious that she was a capsuleer walking around among mere mortals. Not that the girl had ever used the phrase 'mere mortals'. She was more likely to speak of other capsuleers like she was just a mere mortal who happened to work in their fucked up world.

"PRELI," Maris Verdure said, quietly.  She was looking really Deteis today, even though she didn't have a drop of that blood in her, or at least any she'd ever admitted.  Her black hair was all long and straight and neat over her too small chin and her too big ears and the perfectly-fitted shoulders of her deep blue skirt suit.

A week ago, she'd asked Suosio to comm her the next time she got shore leave.  Suosio took her up on the offer this morning, and they'd agreed to meet for lunch in Perimeter.   It was a couple of hours after the end of the standard lunch shift, so the diner Suosio'd picked was practically deserted.

"You look like an escaped accountant," Suosio said, after she figured it was safe to grin a little.  "What's a preli?"

"Has wings.  Goes flap.  Or boom."

Maris spoke Caldari like she'd grown up in the Border Zone, but... "You've lost me," Suosio said.
 
"Wish I hadn't, most days. Even though the new crew's ... really great, honestly.  You ordered yet?"

"Not yet.  Just got here.  Traffic advisory said that assholes were smartbombing Jita's Perimeter outbound, so I had to take the Niya shuttle. I swear, that one's getting worse each time I get on it ... are you in trouble?"

Maris called up a menu on the table top. "No more than usual ... at least your new job is paying you enough to take first class, right?"

Suosio didn't look down at it.  "Yeah.  New crew?"

Maris scrolled through the menu windows with a fingertip.  "A full complement. It wasn't my idea, but I ...  Kyll says hi.  Or he would, if I'd told him I was meeting you for lunch."

"A full complement? Seriously?"  Every ship of Maris' that Suosio worked on had resembled a treatise-in-progress on how to avoid hiring people. "The old man finally..."

"No -- and don't call him that.  He's not that old."

Suosio slouched against her seat back.  "Defensive already?  Nice.  I guess you're still seeing him."

"When it works out..."

"...and you don't want to talk about it."

"The mixed fry looks good," Maris said, confirming that she didn't want to talk about it.  "Thanks for picking a place that has its own seafood tanks." She tapped the icon, adding it to the table order, and selected a half-liter of Amarrian Quafe before she flicked the menu around to face Suosio. "I've missed the hell out of you."

"Wanna hire me back?"

"Zee would freak." Maris' answer came so quick that Suosio figured she'd been rehearsing it. "Marcus would worry.  Come to think of it, Marcus is probably already worried. Madame..."

Suosio guessed, judging from Maris' slight involuntary nod toward the guys who'd followed her in, that 'Marcus'  was her new security chief. But she'd also mentioned Madame Celeste Fauconnier, and ... Suosio could already feel a mild headache coming on. "Augh.  Don't tell me that you're back running shit for her into Providence!"

"Devoid."

"Doesn't matter where you dropped it.  It was for Providence.  Not sure which side in Providence..." Suosio selected meat rolls, added a Samuel Rackham Lite, and submitted the order.

"I'm not making runs for her.  Least I haven't for a while, and it wasn't to Provi -- Devoid."

"See!  Even you're admitting it was to Providence!"

"Fine, be right if you want to.  It was Providence."

"You know how I hate being right."

Maris grinned at her.  "Yeah. I do.  And speaking of that ... got your Customs problem straightened out."

Suosio blinked.   "You wh -- huh? You did?"

"Technically speaking, yeah."

"But not actually ... what the fuck's going on, Mari?  When I mentioned that I was trying to figure out how to get out of my Customs commission, you said you..."

"...wished I could help.  Which I did.  I just didn't know how.  Honestly, I still don't know how Dani arranged it."

"Dani?"

"My new crew chief."  Maris reached inside her suit jacket and took out a skinny silver datapad, one that looked as slick as the gear the guys at the next table were carrying.  "Technically speaking."

"You've been saying that a lot -- technically speaking.  What happened to Bonnie?"

"She got pissed off about all of the new crew members..."

"Wait, whoa, slow down ... why did she get pissed off if--"

"I didn't hire the crew.  They don't report to me.  Well, Kyll and Li-Dau still do, but nobody else on board does."

"What the fu -- who do they report to?"

"Dani, directly.  Madame, indirectly. The security guys are Marcus'."

Suosio stared at Maris.  She cleared her throat and lowered her voice.  "Did you need to ... get out of here?   We can probably outrun these guys.  Possibly.   Theore--"

"Sus," Maris said.  "They can still hear you.  Nothing theoretical about that."

Suosio glanced toward the next booth.  The fucking Deteis was smiling at her.  "Mari," she breathed.  "What in the nine hells have you gotten yourself..."

"Don't worry about it."  Maris offered her the datapad.  "Here..."

"You know, those are the exact words not to say if you..."

"...take the fucking datapad."

Suosio did, and looked at it.  It took her a few seconds to process what she was looking at on the screen.  "That's ... huh?  This says that I  work for ...  Spacelane Patrol?"

"Technically speaking."  Maris smirked as soon as she said it.  "Madame hired a bunch of people from there.  I guess some of them still had contacts, or have contacts.  Look, I didn't ask, because the more I know about what's going on the less I want to, you know?"

"Yeah, I can so understand that feeling."

 "Somebody at Spacelane Patrol talked to Customs and cut them a deal for your employment contract..." Maris began.

"And Customs decommissioned me, sold the contract ... without  contacting Mr. Morrison, looks like..."  Not that they would have contacted him, since she was there undercover.  Or would they?  Suosio didn't know.  She tapped through to her complete House of Records entry.  Her new employment contract with Spacelane Patrol had already populated as 'Active: Awaiting Employee Check-In', while the one with Jonathan's corporation was still showing as being in limbo, flagged as 'Execution Pending: Release of Encumberance'.    Customs had been the 'encumberance'.  Now it looked like Spacelane Patrol was, at least for now.  There was a yellow flag on the entry, suggesting that a purchase offer had been made for her contract with them.

Maybe Mr. Morrison had been notifed?

"Must have slipped their minds," Maris quipped.  "Ooops. So much for that legendary Caldari thoroughness."

"Yeah.  Ooops."  Suosio looked uneasy, which was to say she hadn't changed her expression much at all since the Deteis at the next table had smiled at her.  She tapped the yellow flag and brought up the purchase offer.  It wasn't what she'd expected to see. "Who's this Heila Soyako?"

"The representative of Soyako Holdings who's about to buy your contract from Spacelane Patrol."

Suosio squinted at the datapad, and looked up at Maris.  She looked back at the pad, then held it up more so she could compare the small holo of Heila Soyako with Maris' face.  "How'd you get your ears to look so small in the holo?"

"Wig ... and they're not that big."  Maris had stopped smirking.  That changed.

"Says you.  And very nice eye job in that shot.  What's that color?  Aqua?"

"Duvolle Blue Eleventy-Two ... but that was just temp-tint, not a full eye job. Have, a, uh, retinal scan for Soyako-haani already on file, so I didn't need to take another one when I made the purchase offer."

"Huh.  Temp-tint. No wonder it looks aqua.   I swear, your eyes are greener than I remember..."

"They're new-ish.  An Inherent Implants tech scrubbed some of the brown out of the iris when I had my optics upgraded."

 "I ... see." Suosio didn't laugh at the pun she hadn't meant to make. "So, what now?"

"I can cancel the contract offer, and we can have lunch, walk out of here and get you to the nearest Spacelane Patrol post, or..."

"Mr. Morrison might have something to say about that.  I mean, other than 'thank kami she's out of my hair...'  Maybe. It's--" Suosio shook her head.  "Look, some shit happened..."

"I know.  Sus, you asked me if I could help.  You don't ask anybody for help unless you don't have a choice."

"Mari, I didn't ask you if you could help.  I was joking when I asked you if you knew how I could get out of it ... I didn't expect..."

"Now who's saying 'Devoid' when they really mean 'Providence'?"

The arrival of a server kept Suosio from having to answer that, at least immediately.  The gangly kid deposited a plate of meat rolls in front of her, a metal bucket of fresh battered and fried seafood in front of Maris, then set down their drinks.  He disappeared without saying a word or looking behind him at the booth full of armed men.  He didn't seem particularly nervous;  Suosio guessed that the diner's SOP had standards for dealing with booths full of armed men who hadn't ordered anything.

Suosio opened her Samuel Rackham.  "What's the 'or' to this deal?  You buy me?"

"Yeah,"  Maris began carefully removing the assortment of small white ceramic dipping bowls from  the interior of the steaming bucket.  She got citrus sauce on the crook of her right thumb, which she sucked off as soon as she set that bowl down on the table.  "And then I sell you to you."

"You think I can afford me?"

"At fire sale prices?  Yeah, I think you can afford you.  And you can make it back when you sell your contract to your Mr. Morrison.  If you want to do that.  You can do anything you want. Hell, you even could go back home to Piak and see if Rapid Assembly wants to pick you up."

"But I can't really work for Soyako Holdings."

"Almost anything you want.  That's one of the 'almosts'.   Can't hire you for ATAP, either..."

"Zee."  Suosio took a swig of the State's finest ale.

"Yeah.  And I'm pretty sure you don't want to work for Madame."

"Damn right.  She scares the living shit out of me."

"She's not so bad," Maris said.  "Except when she's worse."

"That's so..."

"...reassuring, ain't it?"

"Oh, you betcha."  Suosio didn't sound convinced.  And she didn't want to ask the questions that were weighing the heaviest on her mind. 

Mari, what happens if I take that Spacelane Patrol gig? Go officially into law enforcement knowing what I know about Morrison's having been used by the Guristas? Sure, he could just be talking tough in order to scare me into keeping my mouth shut, but ... I don't think so. Whatever the hells they were hauling was big.  Damn big.  And the Guris wouldn't bat an eye about coming after me for what's in my head ... it took a lot of convincing to keep them from spacing me while they were aboard ship. Or worse, what if they can't get to me?  Would they go after my folks?  My sibs?

Maris unwrapped her eating tongs, and clicked them at Suosio.  "So?"

"Go ahead and buy me," Suosio decided.  "And I'll buy me from you."

"And then what?"

"Two damn things at a time, Mari..."  Suosio's comm beeped.  She put her beer down, and lifted the unit clipped to her belt so she could get a look at its small screen.  'SHORE LEAVE PERSONNEL' scrolled across the window.  'R-ETRTR-RTR'

"Problem?"

"Orders to reply with an estimated return time and to get my ass back to the ship."

"I see."  Maris was still sitting there just holding her eating tongs.  "You going?"

"Yeah.  I..."

"What?"

"Think Soyako Holdings could hire my family?"

"Eh?"

Suosio didn't say anything.  She didn't have to, she guessed, because Maris all of a sudden changed from mildly puzzled to calm.  Very freaking calm, like she'd just put herself and the rest of the cluster on comm hold.   

"I'll see what..." Maris said, then decided.  "Sure."

"I'll comm them on the way back to The Herald."