Isindyll: The Arc of Deep Space (Peregrine x J_"Kr

[Peregrine]

There was no way to know what was happening outside the edges of the planet. For all Rhys knew, Nyarri and the ship could have vanished off into the void, and military ships could be closing in on Isindyll now.

What Rhys could know was that staying in this base any longer was akin to surrendering on the spot. A rippling chain of command based on verbal cries had been completely established, which allowed the marines to quickly and easily communicate not only their location but the assassin's as well. The one good thing about this was these Marines were unaware that Rhys had once learned a form of this communication. It was outdated, but it was sufficient to allow Rhys to navigate away from and around the biggest pockets of soldiers.

It was a relief to reach the edge of the base, and vanish into the city.

While moving towards the little ship that would take the assassin back to Isindyll, a looping thought process began to take place in Rhys' mind. Every time Rhys arrived back at the same conclusion, and yet, almost as soon as it left, the thought appeared again.

Rhys had no idea what was going on in atmosphere. Depending on how Isindyll had reacted to the message Rhys had sent, it was entirely possible that she was already surrounded by the battalion of ships that had moved in with Nyarri's distress call. Even if that wasn't the case, Isindyll's coating had burned off by now, meaning that those same soldiers would be able to see Rhys leaving atmosphere. The soldiers at the base were undoubtedly trying to contact said ships at this very moment, and while Rhys had destroyed their main method of communication, if the Police were known for anything it was their love of redundancies.

The only thing Rhys could do to guarantee avoiding capture was move the ship somewhere further away from the base, and hide planetside until this whole matter blew over a little. But, the simple fact of the matter was, that wasn't an option. Isindyll was up there, and she might be in desperate need of help. Rhys had already accepted the possibility of capture, and would not have left Isindyll to come down here otherwise.

That should have been the end of it. It wasn't. The thought repeated again and again and Rhys boarded the little craft and took off from the park, heading towards the atmosphere.

When the ship finally broke through, Rhys' eyes immediately locked on the looming battlecraft. The assassin waited, silent, fearful, desperate, for its attention to turn this way, for the end to come. But something far more important seemed to have captured the attention of the crew within the behemoth, and Rhys wasn't about to press this surprising luck by staying and trying to figure out what it was. The ship darted on.

What came as much more of a surprise, and a rather alarming one at that, was the fact that Isindyll was no longer in the location where she had been when Rhys left. At first the Karthk'yarii hadn't realized this, until the ship past right through the coordinates where she would have been. It wasn't all that surprising but, cloaked as she was, Rhys suddenly found a measure of uncertainty about how best to go about finding her. If Rhys was too obtrusive about the search the distracted military ships might notice.

In the end, though, Rhys needed to do nothing. One moment there was the blackness of space visible through the windshield, an undeniable darkness that was nonetheless somehow broken by the light of the nearby sun, and the next there was utter blackness, devoid of any light. Rhys didn't understand what had happened until the ship emerged once more, and the assassin recognized the loading bay inside Isindyll.

She had found a way to move the ship inside of her without Rhys noticing her approach. Impressive.

 

[ze_kraken]

Nyarri's victory was short lived. The defiant blaze behind her eyes faded quickly after realizing that whatever Isindyll did next would lead her further down the road the Empire believed her already on: the ship would either quickly overrun the vessel, or the fleet would notice and then she'd be left having to explain how Isindyll found the evacuation craft. Neither outcome furthered the case of her innocence.

"An interesting outcome," the captain stated dryly. "We have been shoved between a hammer and an anvil - a bold move from Rhys'evin to say the least. Condemning himself to the planet in order to ensure our capture in space..."

The other marines had gone silent, blankly staring at their superior for orders. Some way to avoid the encroaching monstrosity. Some reassuring statement. Nothing came. Instead, the Vollori captain sat in utter silence, gazing intently at the floor below. Whatever his external bravado, Nyarri knew the crushing blow defeat dealt to his caste. Raised to believe they were the best and brightest in the entire Empire, Vollori captains held an inflated self worth born of ill-fitted adversaries and glorification across every system.

"Neither can we harm you. Your death will only result in our own - no doubt Isindyll is willing to obliterate this craft upon-"

A sudden thud rocked the evacuation craft, sending it into a momentary leftward spin. Before the crew could so much as cling to the wall-mounted grips, the motion ceased and the ship began to slide slowly across something.

"What was that?" The captain demanded, voice possessing a sliver of terror. "Have we been hit?!"

"No," the pilot replied, voice eerily calm. "Isindyll has pulled us in. We are currently locked in the holding bay and our airlocks have been overridden."

"Is she going to drown us out?"

"Doubtful. If she brought us here only to drown us out, the easier route would have been to fire at us the moment we broke atmosphere," the pilot paused.

"Firing would have given away her position," Nyarri interjected before the captain could respond.

Nodding his agreement, the captain spoke as if Nyarri was not present, "A single torpedo launch would have alerted every ship in orbit. This is the alternative."

Eyes narrowing in a scowl, Nyarri attempted to steal a glance past the closest viewport, finding it blocked by the girth of one of the marines. Crossing her arms, Nyarri waited as the marines, the pilot, and the captain debated the potential outcomes of their predicament. Would Isindyll use them as leverage? Was she waiting to release them into space far away from the system? Or would Rhys'evin take them as a bargaining chip? Nyarri found the latter option something born of the captain's ego: captains were valuable, but if he had been worth noting, she would have known him by name.

"Another ship is on approach to Isindyll," the pilot jolted upward in his seat, attention honed in on the pulsar station. Essentially short-ranged lidar waves, the laser focus of a pulsar could point out most targets within a very limited distance.

The airlock hissed open.

"Weapons at the ready," the captain muttered. "Grab Z'Nyarri. We aren't surviving this without collateral."

At least they believe I'm worth something to this ship...

 

[Peregrine]

Before Isindyll released the military fleet waiting in her, Rhys arrived in the deck.

"Isindyll, what happened?"

"I... grabbed them."

"You did what?

"They were getting away. I had to do something. So I grabbed them. Like I grabbed you."

"... I see."

"Rhys? What do we do now?"

Rhys let out a small noise of frustration. "We are going to need to let them out eventually. For now they won't hurt Nyarri. She's the only bargaining tool they have. Our first priority needs to be splitting them up."

The two of them passed ideas back and forth for several minutes, slowly working out a plan that would ultimately lead Nyarri and her captain to the bridge. Considering Isindyll's capabilites, it was surprisingly easy. There were several narrow points where it would be easy enough for Isindyll to simply seal off a corridor while the marines moved through, leaving half of them on one side or the other. At other points Isindyll could soften her floor, creating a quagmire and eventual hole that would cause the soldiers to drop to lower levels and become trapped there. She was also able to open an eye-like thing wherever she pleased, which would start a video feed here in the bridge.

They could only hope that the Captain wouldn't get too irate as his soldiers were slowly but surely split up, and end up doing something rash. All of their separation techniques were purposefully non-harmful for that very reason, although there was no telling how the naturally tight-strung Vollori would take it.

When they were satisfied with their plan, and a couple backup plans for the things that would inevitably go wrong, Rhys gave Isindyll the go ahead to let them out. After that, there was nothing for the assassin to do but take a seat in the comfortable chair that was in front of the Captain's display, wait, and watch.

 

[ze_kraken]

"We've waited too long - are you sure that ping is working?" The captain demanded.

"I told you it would take at least a delen to function properly - this ship is jamming something."

"We knew that to begin with," the Vollori slammed a fist against the side of the grounded escape craft. "We're running out of options - we need to leave."

None of the marines spoke a word of complaint at the proposal. None dared question their leader. Nyarri could see their hesitation, feel their uncertainty and their fear. What choice did any of them have? If nothing else, their attempt to seize the ship or find a means of leaving Isindyll would ensure her own freedom, not theirs.

"None of us know the layout of this ship and from what this one said," the largest marine in the craft shoved a finger at Nyarri, "this beast's more than capable of making sure we have a bad time of getting anywhere."

"Z'Nyarri is also only one of an entire crew to emerge from this encounter alive - I still doubt the ship's involvement. Regardless, die here or die out there, it makes little difference." A pause. "This ensures a chance, no matter how slim."

Then, by some unspoken consent, the marines were on the move. Before the three armed and armored soldiers, the pilot, and the captain could clear the craft, the commander paused.

"One marine remains here with Z'Nyarri. I cannot trust her alone here. Once the way is clear, we will return for you from the outside and dock here."

"Foolish," Nyarri grunted. "You'll accomplish the same thing by dragging me along - You're afraid I'll contact Isindyll or Rhys'evin somehow, and without me, if you do encounter the assassin in the ship, you'll need me as leverage."

"And if you turn cloak the moment we come into contact with either Isindyll or Rhys'evin?" Suspicion lingered in the captain's tone, his eyes boring into Nyarri.

Meeting the blank stare with one of her own, the marine continued, "You have me bound and unarmed. I gain nothing by attacking a superior foe."

Without acknowledgement to the statement, the captain ushered for all of the soldiers to follow him through the doorway. When none remained behind, Nyarri followed in pursuit, imagining remaining in the craft would do her no good. Once outside, she was shoved unceremoniously into the middle of the contingent and ushered forward.

"Where's an escape deck?" The captain questioned before the squad entered the first corridor outside of the holding bay.

Feeling it best not to mention that essentially every potential ship had been jettisoned from Isindyll when she had forced the crew out, Nyarri lied. "Two decks above, following across the port side."

Nodding, the captain resumed his position in the middle of the soldiers and ordered the group to push onward into the belly of the beast. For a while their pace had gone uninterrupted, the only thing to break the silence an occasional directional question from the captain. Then Isindyll struck. When the squad turned left, towards the upper decks, the corridor's wall stretched outward and sealed the passageway, condemning one marine behind it.

"What was that?!" the captain roared, whipping around to face Nyarri.

"Isindyll."

---

Four marines became three. Three became two. Two became one. Isindyll claimed them all, utilizing more and more elaborate means of isolating each one in turn. The captain's frustration was palpable as more and more routes to the other holding bays were sealed, leaving him with a useless guide that he couldn't dispose of for hope of a chance to leave the ship.

The bridge.

"She wants us to go to the bridge..." Nyarri blurted, softly.

"Excuse me?"

"Isindyll. She wants us to go to the bridge. All these paths, they're almost systematic, like veins to an organ...The ones left to us lead to the core structures, most of which you can't do anything with or will be sealed off. But the bridge. That's where she wants us."

"Seems poppycock from a marine with no part in the-"

"Do you want to make it out of this alive, captain? I served on board this vessel long enough to know it well enough, presumed traitor or not. Now, I am going to the bridge. If you want to shoot me and damn yourself to death in turn, by all means do so, but don't keep me waiting."

 

[Peregrine]

Rhys waited, silent, impossibly still for anything that was truly an embodied being, watching as Isindyll tracked the movements of the marines and slowly separated them off from one another. Much to the assassin's surprise, and almost disappointment, the plan went off without a hitch. In the end it was just Nyarri and the Captian, marching their way towards the bridge.

Rhys did not stop watching the screen until the very moment that the doors parted before the arriving soldiers. Only at that moment did the Karthk'yarii peel away from the screen, standing and moving over towards the center of the room, arms folded.

Negotiations would begin now, if they could even be called that. It would have been so much easier to simply kill the Captain the moment he stepped into the room, but Rhys knew without asking that Isindyll would have none of that. Instead, Rhys was going to have to play the game of politics, and see if it was possible to come out ahead of a man who had been born and bred to play that game.

Then again, Rhys held all the cards. That might provide a bit of an advantage.

"Took you long enough."

"Your means of persuasion leave something to be desired," the Vollori captain huffed. "There are several ways to lead in, none of them as indirect or backwards as that display."

Rhys'evin let out a sigh. "I know. I would have preferred to simply kill you all and take Nyarri back, but Isindyll took exception to that idea, for some reason. So. Here we are."

"It is a poor captain with no control over his own ship." The Vollori said with a glower. "But no matter. I see..."

The captain, however, was suddenly cut off by a burst of laughter from the assassin. "Captain? Now wherever did you get the idea that I was Captain?" An even wider grin spread over Rhys' face. "But no matter."

"I believe it is in our mutual interest to get on with it. If you won't kill me, then what will you do?"

"Bargain!" Rhys replied, arms spreading wide. "What else is there to do? Something has to give eventually. You already know what I want, so there's no point in being subtle. What about you?"

"You cannot let me go, at least not directly to where I could access even basic communications. You need to be clear of this planet before I can alert any fleet presence. You are cloaked, we have very little we can do to counteract that: we will find you, particularly if you make the first move. The only reasonable request is that I am given a one-way trip to the outskirts of civilization on this planet."

Once again, Rhys smiled. "Quite to the contrary, Captain. If immediate release is what you wish, immediate release is what you shall get. Although I'd rather you take your men, too. I have enough soldiers hanging around already."

"I had been under the assumption they were dead, truthfully," the captain's face flickered with relief for barely a tick before returning to its mask of passive indifference. "Very well, then."

"Good. I'm glad that has been settled so easily But I shall have to ask you to release Nyarri first. Sign of good faith, and all that."

The Vollori shoved Nyarri forward, glancing upwards at the assassin. "Am I to be escorted out? Or will Isindyll monitor me as I make my way to whatever deck you deem fit?"

"You are free to go," Rhys gestured towards the door of the bridge, which silently slid open. "Just follow the path. Your men are already back at your ship. Don't try anything stupid, please."

"I try to avoid them if at all possible," the captain nodded, turned, and exited the bridge.

The moment the door slammed closed behind him, Rhys moved over to the console. The ease that he had displayed to the Captain slid off his shoulders like a cloak. In a instant, he was serious, deadly business. "We are going to have to time this with the utmost precision, Isindyll. You are ready?"

"Yes, Rhys."

"The moment you release that ship, it is going to ping the battleships. Our cloak will still be in place, which will give us a little bit of time. The moment we reach our destination, warp again. It doesn't matter to where, as long as it is far from here and still in the Border Territories. We need to make sure we shake any ships that manage to ride our warp."

"Yes, Rhys."

Underneath the radar blocking coating Isindyll had secreted over herself, it was nearly impossible to see out the window that normally granted a view of space. There was no way to know whether or not the warships were near them.

"He's reached the ship."

"Whenever you are ready, Isindyll."

There was a long, tense moment of silence. Rhys stood near the window, silently peering out, trying to decipher any detail through the distorting gel. Underneath the strain of the moment Rhys' form had started to dissolve, losing the hard, crisp edges that normally defined a Vollori, and descending instead to an amorphous, Vollori-shaped blob.

Isindyll gave no warning when the moment came. Instead there was a sudden, sharp lurch, and the world outside blurred into the light of warp, as the energy within Isindyll ripped open a hole in space that the ship slipped through. Underneath the strain, the gel coating Isindyll slicked off, burning away into nothingness. It didn't matter now. Either they had escaped, or they had failed.

Just as planned, Isindyll came to rest at their new location for only a moment, before triggering the warp again. When they came to stillness once more, Rhys' form devolved even further.

"Isindyll?"

"They didn't follow us, Rhys. We got away!"

 

[ze_kraken]

"I'll start with the most pressing question first," Nyarri blurted after Isindyll's call of 'all clear'. "Why come back? If you wanted a more valuable bargaining piece, you would have kept the captain."

For a moment the assassin ignored her, before suddenly seeming to realize she was speaking to him rather than Isindyll. His feelers writhed back together sufficiently for a mouth to form. "Why are you looking at me? It was Isindyll's decision. I would have left you."

"I am glad to see your better half thinks otherwise," the marine remarked dryly. "Now that I'm here, what happens next?"

"Next?" Rhys' feelers writhed briefly, in something that almost seemed akin to a sigh. "I don't know. Things have become... complicated. Are you going to try and escape and turn us in again?"

"I don't suppose I will, no. I'm now officially put on the list of accomplices - any contact with the Empire, well, I imagine it will end as it would have without your intervention. My exile. Ironic - receiving the assassin's original punishment for turning him in."

Rhys turned away once more, looking at the distant sun which Isindyll had settled around. "Then you may do whatever you wish."

Just like that? One brush with the Empire and she was free to do as she pleased?

"You never answered my original question."

That earned a dry chuckle from the assassin. He seemed to hang somewhat limply on the railing near the window, as though some indomitable weariness weighted upon his shoulders. "Next... Next we hide, at least for a while. Isindyll has enough supplies to let us drift for a while, while we wait for this matter to blow over somewhat. After that, we will need to find a safe place to resupply."

"And where would that be? Empire'll be on high alert for a while. Anything you'd do would have to be quick. One wrong step and you'd have a repeat of what happened today."

"Yes, Nyarri, I know that. But it is also impossible for the Police to monitor every border planet indefinitely, and it's not like I'm planning to settle down."

The marine paused, offering a quick glance to the viewport. "Then what's your end goal? It's been 'avoid arrest' up until this point, but what will you do after this blows over?"

"I am... uncertain. Unless Isindyll has other plans or ideas, I shall most likely end up returning to the Disciples, simply from a lack of alternatives."

"Disciples?" Were there more of his kind at large in the Empire?

"You don't know of them? That's a surprise. I would have thought everyone in the Police had heard that name. The Disciples is the most skilled crime syndicate in the galaxy. They are the ones you hire to do an impossible job. Jobs like assassinating a first councilor."

"Are all of them like you?" Nyarri questioned, gaze returning to the assassin. "Your species, I mean."

"No. I'm the only one of my kind who's left Home."

"It would seem that your particular capabilities would prove useful to the Disciples. Have they not considered recruiting them? The Empire uses the Vollori for the same purpose: they're the best suited to general combat. I find it unlikely it's never been considered."

"Perhaps it has been, but they were wise of them not to attempt it. It would be a death sentence for anyone involved." Rhys' voice was flat. It seemed more a statement of fact than a threat.

"Because of the planet or its inhabitants?"

"Both."

"Then if you were not recruited from the planet, how did you come to leave the world?" Nyarri found the idea that only one of Rhys'evin's species had bothered to leave, particularly with a well-known syndicate with a need for that niche, ridiculous.

"It is a long story, and one I do not feel particularly inclined to share with you."

"Understood."

"My turn for the questions. What do you intend to do?"

"I haven't put much thought to it - I'll most likely head off when you stop to resupply unless something happens between now and then."

"Good. I'm sure..."

Rhys was suddenly cut off by the sound of another voice, one it was quite surprising hadn't intruded into the conversation sooner. "I don't want you to leave."

"I have no reason to be here, Isindyll. Rhys has escaped and I'm not sure I'll ever be capable of working with him."

"But you are Tribe now, aren't you?"

"Isindyll," Rhys interrupted. There was something strained in his tone. That was unexpected. "Please don't say things when you don't fully understand what they mean."

"You told me what it means." Isindyll replied petulantly. "And it's true, isn't it? Nyarri is Tribe."

"I don't..."

"You don't get to pick Tribe. Tribe is something that is. It is someone whose safety is of equal import or greater import than your own. It is someone whose desires take precident over your own. That is already true for Nyarri."

"I did it for you, not for her!"

"But I did it for her. That makes her part of my Tribe. And if you are part of my Tribe, she is part of your Tribe."

"Ilo'gu'duect." Whatever Rhys had just said, the translator obviously didn't have an equivalent for it. Perhaps that was a good thing. All the same, it didn't sound like the word was directed at Isindyll, or anyone in particular. It more seemed like it was directed at the universe, for forcing the assassin into this situation.

Nyarri interjected before Isindyll could retort, "Tribe? Is this Isindyll's concept or yours, Rhys?"

"...Mine." He seemed remarkably reluctant to admit it.

"And what does it have to do with me? At all?"

"My world is incredibly hostile. I have met no species in this empire that would last there for longer than a Delen. Even for my own speices it is impossible to survive alone. Tribe is survival. Tribe is life itself. There is nothing more important than than Tribe. Can you comprehed what that means, soldier?" He spat out the final word as though it was poison.

"It is similar to a soldier's commitment to the others," Nyarri stated dryly. "But I'm sure it's not quite the same."

"It's not the same at all. This isn't just a commitment, it is a complete, unbreakable, obligation. You are Tribe. Protecting Tribe is the meaning of my existence. At this moment, if you were to tell me to turn myself in to protect you from being hunted by the Empire, I would do it." The words sounded like they were being ripped out from him. It was almost possible to hear the sound of them tearing.

"Why am I part of this Tribe? It seems to be Isindyll's decision, not yours."

"Gad'sec'tat," another untranslatable word. "Tribe is not something so superficial as a decision. It is a state of being. It is a part of your very existence. It is an undeniable truth."

Isindyll was remaining oddly quiet. In that moment, Nyari found herself briefly wondering if the ship had really unerstood the meaning of Tribe. Her next words were slow and deliberate, "I do not wish to be bound at the ankle with any of you. Tribe or no Tribe, I owe you nothing after I am left planet-side. It is best for all of us."

"I would not expect someone like you to hold to Tribe, anyways." It sounded like the greatest insult he could give. "But that does not change its existence. Now get out of here. Before you make matters worse than they already are."

Nyarri curtly nodded, turned, and left.


The walk back to her quarters was a long one. Isindyll had remained silent, though Nyarri had no inclination to open up a conversation: she had been the one to bring up "Tribe", this was her problem, let her deal with it. Nyarri would be gone when they made planetfall for supplies, and that would be the end of this misadventure.

But then what?

She could no longer go back to her old life. The Empire had a Vollori captain to testify against her now, her case of innocence was hopeless. She supposed she could take up life as a mercenary or pirate, put the marine training to good use, but that would place her within reach of the Empire again. A merchant's bodyguard? No. That would require a background check.

Why couldn't Isindyll have left me there?

 

[Peregrine]

"Rhys... I'm..."

"Don't tell me you are sorry, Isindyll."

Rhys hadn't moved from leaning against the railing that looked out to the window, although the Karthk'yarii's form had long since dissolved into a shapeless mass. The Captain's clothes lay in a meticulously folded pile only a short ways away. Rhys seemed rather defeated for an individual who had just kidnapped a prisoner out from underneath the Empire's nose and escaped out into deep space.

"But I..."

"I warned you not to say things when you didn't fully understand what they meant."

"I thought I understood."

"Obviously you didn't. But now you do. So tell me, little ship, did you lie to me?"

"Did I...?"

"Yes. Lie. Now that you know the full truth, did you lie to me, purposefully or otherwise, when you told me Nyarri was Tribe."

Isindyll went silent, and Rhys waited, eternally patient, for her reply. In that moment, it didn't matter how long it would take; Rhys would not move from that spot until she gave her answer.

It was so futile. Rhys already knew the answer. It was just like Nyarri had been told, it was not a decision, it was not a choice. It was simply an irrefutable truth. Isindyll had already demonstrated that she was willing to sacrifice, not only herself, but herself and Rhys to keep the Marine safe. Not only had she done it once, she had done it twice. There was no doubt in Rhys' mind that Nyarri was part of Isindyll's Tribe.

"No. I'm sorry, Rhys, but I didn't lie."

It came as no surprise. "I know, Isindyll. I knew the answer to that question before I even asked."

If there was any small consolation in this matter, it was that Rhys knew that the bonds of Tribe that had developed on this ship were not simply one-directional. Isindyll might have felt Nyarri was Tribe, but that did not make Rhys any less a part of her Tribe, either. She had already proven that. She had proven that the moment she gave up her safety, her innocence, her whole life up until that point, to venture into an unknown future with a fugitive. She had done it to protect Rhys from exile and an inevitable death. That was what Tribe was.

"I'm so..."

"Don't tell me you are sorry. It is what it is. That isn't the question anymore."

"Then what is the question?"

"When the moment comes and we need to resupply, are you going to be able to let her go?"

Isindyll was silent for a long, long moment. "...I don't know."

 

[ze_kraken]

"Are you really going to leave?"

As always, Isindyll's conversational skills were sharp as a cudgel. Nyarri stood, glancing out the viewport of her quarters. Though she knew that there was no body she was speaking to, the marine turned to face the closed door. In no mood to talk, she slid onto her cot and stared upward at the one above her, deciding that Isindyll would soon lose interest and leave.

That, of course, didn't happen.

"Nyarri, don't leave."

Drawing in a deep breath, the marine replied, "I..I'm not sure if I should stay. I have no reason to - you two are on your own path, and I'm not sure I can find myself working for, directly or not, for Rhys'evin."

"It's as much working for me as it is him," Isindyll stated, matter-of-fact.

"Can you say that with entire certainty?"

"I don't see-"

"Who guided you to this planet? Who made you hang around in orbit while he looked around for his contact? Rhys did. I've seen his decisions far more than I have yours, no, I'm not part of this 'Tribe' - I'm not an equal here, no more than you are."

Isindyll paused before responding, "I am an equal to Rhys, he would never let anything hurt me."

That makes one of us.

The marine paused, letting Isindyll continue should she choose. She had nothing more to add to their current thread of discussion, nothing that would do anything other than cause an argument. For a while Nyarri had stood, thinking of some way to abuse the notion of the 'Tribe' to her own advantage, but she doubted she would be willing to build that credibility up.

"We're equals, Nyarri," the ship admitted quietly. "And I think that's enough for Rhys."

If only it were.

"We'll see."

When had their conversations ceased being about innocent curiosity? Had it been when Rhys'evin escaped? Or had it always been that way, and Nyarri had just never had the wits to sense it? Isindyll rarely talked about much other than the finer points of interaction and, to some extent, 'right and wrong.' Perhaps this was just how a biologically-generated warship aged: quickly.

Almost too quickly.

 

[Peregrine]

It was a quiet half-var that passed on board Isindyll. It was obvious that Nyarri was doing her best to stay out of Rhys' way, and the assassin certainly did not object. Rhys had nothing to say to the Marine, and it was obvious from Isindyll's stretches of gloomy silence that Nyarri had not changed her opinion on the fact that she did not belong on this ship. Rhys would be glad when she left. Just because she was Tribe didn't mean the Karthk'yarii had to like her.

Rhys had never truly come to occupy any quarters on board Isindyll. During the stretch of imprisonment it had been the cell, but that certainly didn't qualify as a room. After that Rhys had spent the time in the sickbay, before leaving for the planet to meet Etsy. In the end, Rhys ended up adopting the captain's quarters. This wasn't out of any form of pretension, or a belief that Rhys was somehow captain of Isindyll. As much had been declared to the Vollori captain when he came aboard Isindyll. Rather, it was because the Captain's Quarters was a well defended location, even if Isindyll had been a normal ship, and it had good proximity to the bridge, which was the place Rhys was spending more and more time.

The assassin had decided to dedicate these dragging hours of free time to learning the interface between the bridge and Isindyll. It was not a small task. The place had been designed on Imperial Military standards and had, even more than that, been designed to be used by experts in each of the respective fields that the interfaces represented. While Isindyll was undoubtedly capable of controlling each of those systems herself, she was still young, and remarkably inexperienced in their use. She had been raised to trust in the judgement of the people at her helm. While Rhys had no doubt that Isindyll was intelligent and competent enough to learn how to use these systems, there was no telling how much time the learning would would take. Even then, Isindyll was not a warrior, was not an expert navigator. To truly bring out her full potential she needed a full, experienced crew.

Rhys was neither. When Rhys had been a part of the Disciples, his job had always related to the close and dirty things. It was, after all, the field in which Rhys was by far the most specialized, and the Disciples had the best of the best in every field. They would never use someone for a task that was not their specialization. Of course, Rhys had learned a thing or two in his time there, and was not a novice in any field. But that did not represent a mastery of any of them. Rhys wasted a pointless few Quicks imagining the kind of damage Isindyll could wreak under the hands of the Disciples before dismissing the thoughts. The assassin would never allow that to happen. Rhys would kill Isindyll before allowing her to fall into the hands of the Disciples. Far more likely, Rhys would kill every one of them first.

But, though Isindyll's patient tutelage and an utterly exasperating quantity of trial and error, Rhys was able to grasp the basics of her systems, and feel comfortable manning any of the interfaces without worrying about making some catastrophic mistake. Everything after that was refinement and practice.

---

"Rhys?"

The assassin had fallen asleep in the Captain's chair once again. In the formless shape of the Karthk'yarii, any surface could be perfectly comfortable, and Rhys had worn out over the past four Solors. All the same at the sound of Isindyll's voice Rhys pulled together, once more adopting the rounded, Vollori-like figure that had become something of a default for conversations with Isindyll. "What is it?"

"There's a distress signal."

In a moment Rhys was fully awake and attentive. "What? Where? How long have you heard it?"

"Yes. On the other side of the nearest star. And I just heard it."

"Good," Rhys replied, relaxing back into the chair somewhat. "That's far enough away that it shouldn't pose a danger."

"But Rhys." The assassin had a nasty suspicion about where this was going. "We need to go help them."

"Isindyll," At least it was easy to keep any traces of exasperation from being vocalized. "It is far, far more likely that distress signal is a trap than an actual craft in need of aid. Easily 100:1."

"But it couldbe people in need of aid."

"Even if it was, what would we do with them? In case you've forgotten, we are wanted criminals."

"But if we do nothing, they'll die out here. Ships don't pass by that often."

"You are acting under the assumption that these are people in need." Rhys reminded. Isindyll remained stubbornly silent.

The silence continued for several moments, but Rhys knew Isindyll hadn't given up. It was far more like the silence of a petulant child than anything.

"You are going to get us caught again," Rhys finally said, resigned. "But, fine. Go."

In the end, it didn't matter that much. The worst they could be was space pirates, and Rhys could certainly handle a few measly marauders.

 

[ze_kraken]

"We're going to look at a distress signal," Isindyll blurted, breaking the silence Nyarri's quarters had adopted.

"Isindyll you kno-" the marine began, only to be cut off.

"Rhys said the same thing. It's a trap. 100:1 odds," the ship paused. "I don't think it is - what's the point of a distress signal if you won't ever use it when you're in distress?"

"Is it a ping or actual radio contact?"

"Does it matter?"

"It makes all the difference," Nyarri grunted, rising to her feet from her cot. "A ping's easy to use...No way to confirm its authenticity. Radio contact, though, that'll tell you whether or not you've got a real situation on your hands."

"We're going anyways," Isindyll replied, resolute with a hint of authority. Where had she learned that?

"Never doubted it for a second. Do you need me for when the shooting starts? Or will Rhys cover that?" Nyarri made no effort to conceal the venom in her voice.

"You could talk to him about it," the ship replied brusquely.

"Time to arrival?"

"Not too long."

That didn't answer the question...

---
​

Nyarri regretted stripping down her combat armor - she'd never imagined that she would need the full suit ever again, that she would need to blend in. The chest plate, shoulder pads, and boots were mostly intact. The mesh that rested beneath the hard plates was also in working order, but mesh only resisted blades, a rarity in an age of MACs and thermal-based weaponry. That left only about a quarter of her body under a decent level of protection. Not enough, but it would have to do.

After the lengthy process of donning the scraps of armor she had left to her, Nyarri grabbed her vibro-knife and clipped it to her belt; the familiar weight of the weapon was a welcome reminder of what had been before Isindyll. Her MAC had been taken when she had been captured, leaving her with the 'official' (albeit bulkier) version of the weapon and two magazines of ammunition. Not that it truly mattered: the MAC fired slivers of metal, not entire encased bullets. Ammunition was hardly a limiting factor.

"Isindyll, where is Rhys'evin? I need to speak to him about our present situation," Nyarri called out.

"He is on the bridge," came the reply after a brief delay. "I'll tell him you're coming."

The marine nodded, more to herself than anything else, and made for the doorway out of her quarters. They slid open, meaning at the very least Rhys'evin had blanched at her proposed meeting quite yet. The lonely voyage to the bridge was a long one. Until now, Nyarri had not truly noticed just how unsettling Isindyll's interior was with no one to crew her. The last time she had ventured out beyond her immediate area (and truly paid attention to her surroundings) had been with a contingent of marines, and before then, with a full crew. Now, with the only noise to break the silence coming from the tap tap tap of her boots upon the floor, the ship felt even more deserted.

"How close are we to the signal?" Nyarri questioned as she walked.

No answer, it would have to wait.

At last, the marine reached the doors to the bridge. These did not automatically open at her approach. Annoyed, already starting to turn around and make her way back to her quarters, Nyarri started as the not-quite-metal doors slid open with a metallic ring.

"You know it's a trap," Nyarri began, walking into the bridge...

...If only Isindyll knew too.



​

 

[Peregrine]

The last thing Rhys had expected was for Nyarri to arrive at the bridge. Of course, it shouldn't have been a surprise to realize that Isindyll would have told Nyarri about the distress signal. And maybe it wasn't. What was a surprise was that she had come up here.

For the most part, Rhys ignored her comment as she strode into the bridge, preferring instead to remain facing the emptiness of black space in front of them, and wait for the ship to come into view.

Nyarri, it seemed, was not content to be ignored. "Do you have a plan for when the trap is sprung?" Nyarri asked, taking a seat by the communications console.

Rhys writhed slightly, before moving away from the window. "Only somewhat. It is impossible to account for every variation. But, for a start, we are going to need to get in radio contact with the ship sending the signal."

"And from there? Are you planning to board the ship or blast it apart?"

"Blast it apart?!" Isindyll suddenly interjected, sounding on the verge of panic.

"I'm assuming worst case, Isindyll - if their story checks out, there'll be no need," Nyarri glanced at Rhys. "Which is it?"

"According to Isindyll, this ship is floating in the middle of the void. If this is a trap, there will likely be no way to tell for sure until we get close enough that most ship weapons would no longer be viable." Rhys replied. "So, board, I suppose."

The marine nodded. "I assume, then, you'll go it alone?"

"Would you like to come?" Rhys replied, with a slight, dry laugh. "Want to go shoot some pirates?"

Nyarri's eyes twinkled with amusement, stating with exaggerated bravado. "I am only doing my duty to the citizens of the Empire."

That earned a rather surprised grin from the assassin, but the moment of lighthearted humor passed as quickly as it had come. "There's the ship," Rhys said, gesturing out into the darkness, where the faint outlines of a floating shape began to resolve from the point of light they had been approaching.

The main hull of the ship was, in comparison to sleek warships and atmosphere-bound crafts, was essentially a brick of grey, reflective metal. Along each flank rested rows of smaller, triangular craft meant to cut through air and make planetfall. Three triangular ports jutted from the rear of the core ship, dimly glowing blue from Isindyll's distance. Externally, all seemed well - no hull breaches, no missing escape craft. It was obviously a passenger ship, something with limited or no warp capacity, designed to bring a small group of people to one of the nearby inhabited systems.

Rhys glanced over in Nyarri's direction. "That wasn't what I was expecting," he offered. "Thoughts?"

"Checking the radio chatter," the marine set to work on the console before her.

There was a moment of buzzing silence as both Rhys and Nyarri waited for the ship in front of them to answer the console.

"This is Z'Nyarri of the ISC Isindyll," Nyarri began. Rhys glanced over at the marine, but did not otherwise react to her decision to label them as an Imperial Spacecraft. "We are addressing your distress signal received approximately half a delen previous. Please activate your transponder and disable any weapon systems."

There was a brief delay before a ping registered on Isindyll's radar - ISC Weeping Somnambulist.

"ISC Weeping Somnambulist, respond," Nyarri ordered.

"This is the ISC Weeping Somnambulist" As the reply finally came through, Rhys moved over to the communications console, next to Nyarri. "Our directional thrusters have been disabled and we are unable to initiate retrothrust. Our current orbit will leave us light years out of communications range of any planetary body. Requesting immediate aid."

"What do you think?" Nyarri asked, turning to face Rhys.

Rhys was silent for a moment. "Isindyll, are there any other ships within range of your senses?"

"No, Rhys." Isindyll was silent for a moment. "Rhys, we can't just..."

"I know what you are going to say, Isindyll." The assassin cut in, before turning to face Nyarri. "That ship shouldn't have any weapons systems, so the only way they can do anything is to get us anchored to them. That's what we'd have to do to re-direct their current trajectory." He thought for a moment, before addressing Isindyll. "Do you have any ways to bring them to a halt without actually anchoring?"

"No, Rhys, I'm sorry."

"It's okay," the assassin replied. "I didn't really think it was going to be that easy." Rhys was silent for a moment. At this point, their only real option was to basically walk into the trap willingly, or leave these people to drift away. Isindyll would never allow the second option. They didn't really have any choice.

"Do you think that the ship's rigged?" The marine asked. "Dead man's switch?"

"Highly unlikely. The 'blow themselves up' type don't usually sit in space waiting to see if anyone comes by."

On the console, the person on the other ship once more reached out. "ICS Isindyll, please respond."

"I don't think we've got much choice. We'll have to anchor."

Nyarri nodded. "Standby, proceeding with docking."

Rhys waited in terse silence as Isindyll slowly moved up beside the other ship, carefully lining up their speeds before latching on to the other ship and slowly bringing both crafts to a halt. Once the action was complete, Rhys asked quietly "Isindyll, can you still detach."

There was a moment of considering silence. "Yes, Rhys."

"Good. Go ahead and reach out to the Somnambulist again. See what they want. Then we'll know whether or not this was a trap."

"ISC Weeping Somnambulist, what is your request? Escort or repairs?"

After a brief pause, the opposite ship answered. "Repairs."

Rhys writhed slightly. "Unexpected. An escort could have lured us into a trap. Isindyll, can you still detach?"

"Yes, Rhys."

No one said it, but Rhys knew they were all thinking it. Maybe this really was a true distress signal. There had to be some out there. "What parts do they need? We can probably scavenge them off the short range ship left."

"Replacement thrusts - they wouldn't have to be that large, just enough to tip them one direction or the other. Only potential problem is having to take an EVA-jump out for the repairs, unless the problem's internal." Nyarri explained. "If it's internal, it would take even less. I figure we head in, assess damage, make sure this isn't a trap, then come back with what we need."

"You want to come too?" Rhys asked blandly.

"I still may get to shoot some pirates."

Rhys laughed faintly. It wasn't as though there was any reason not to bring her along. The assassin could keep one marine from getting shot. "Very well. Let's go."

 

[ze_kraken]

Until now, Nyarri had never seen one of Isindyll's docking ports. Any travel to and from the ship had been through her various holding bays, never on a carrier as large as the Somnambulist. The corridor was a pristine grey chute barely wide enough for either her or Rhys that ended in a double-sealed doorway. After opening the second door, letting air flow into the Somnambulist's airlock, the marine was surprised to find the awaiting hall empty. No armed guards or civilians, just a stout, grey-brown fur covered humanoid with four gangly arms ending in three-fingered talons.

Before they had left for the chute, Rhys had taken a slight detour to the Captain's room. When he returned, it would have been impossible to tell that Rhys was still Rhys. The standard tall, lean, Vollori-like figure had been replaced by a short, stocky one, with a bulboush head and extra long arms that could easily pick up objects lying on the floor even while the assassin was standing straight up. The mechanic's clothes he wore fit perfectly. Now Rhys stepped forward first, tool-box in hand.

"Busy schedule, busy busy," His voice was completely different as well, raspy and barking. "Let's see da problem."

"Right this way," the stranger replied in a guttural tone. "Third deck, right below the reactor core."

In comparison to Isindyll, who was still very much a warship with efficient space management and rounded corners, this passenger ship erred on the side of practicality. Hallways were wide enough for four or five to walk comfortably side by side, rooms appeared to be entire housing units rather than simple quarters, and the ceiling hung a foot or so above Nyarri's head. After taking a brief ride down the main deck's lift, the trio stood before the access point to the engineering bay.

The four-armed creature produced a secuity card from a pocket in its coat and tapped it to the console wired into the door. A light flashed from red to green and the door hissed open, baring a wide room lined with access ports, terminals...

...and four armed pirates. Their guide stood at the doorway, weapon pointed at the mechanic.

"You'll take us to your ship, get everyone off, get her running again, then leave," the lead pirate began. "After that, it'll be like this little exchange never happened. That..." A low whine emitted from his pistol. "Or I put a shard of metal in your skull and take the ship anyways."

Nyarri had, if for only the briefest of moments, felt the urge to grab her MAC from its place on her hip and start the fight. Then the reality of the situation struck: her armor was stripped, Rhys was the target of choice, and she was outnumbered almost three to one. The guide, keeping one arm level with Nyarri's back, unstrapped the MAC from its holster and placed it in his lower right hand, the other picking the knife from it sheath.

"Any other weapons your friend here's got?" The leader questioned, gesturing with his pistol to Nyarri.

"None," she replied before the assassin could answer.

"Lest ye want me magnetic." Rhys' voice sounded strong, but it cracked at the last instant. If Nyarri hadn't known better, she might have actually thought the assassin afraid. The lead pirate shot Rhys a dirty look.

"Now here's how it's going to-"

Nyarri interrupted the pirate. "You are in current possession of two Imperial crew members while docked to an Imperial warship. You will escort us to our ship and then allow yourselves to be contained until such time that you can-"

"Stop spouting your protocol shit," the leader spat. "I need real bargaining chips, not some damned change-of-heart bullshit you think I'm going to take."

"I do not think you understand the gravity of your situation - If we do not return, if we are perceived taken hostage, the ISC Isindyll will take it in turn to-" Again, she was cut off.

"And they'll risk killing you, no. And I don't know about you, but I don't feel like playing this out."

"I'm afraid I can't-"

The leader's arm shot left, and a high-pitched whip cracked as a round cleared his pistol, straight into Rhys' head, blowing out the other side.

The assassin wobbled faintly on his feet, dipping slightly to the side. The pirate turned to point his gun at Nyarri. "I'm not fucking playing around you..." A strange crack echoed through the room as several goassamer-like feelers that had been invisibly filling the room suddenly spun together around the pirate's neck. His head twisted violently to the side, before separating from his shoulders.

"People always love to shoot a big head," Rhys said softly as he straightened up once more. Another crack eched through the room. "It's like stepping on an over-ripe fruit." Another crack. The last remaining pirate screamed, desperately crawling his way towards the door as more of Rhys' feelers grabbed onto him, dragging him, kicking and screaming, back towards the duo. "Good thing there's nothing important there."

"You've had worse," Nyarri shrugged - it appeared her job as 'excuse for Rhys to attack' was over. "Should we grab that furball's access card?"

"Only if we actually intend to clear this place out." Rhys' form had slimmed down substantially, and the pirate was now swaddled in feelers like a cocoon. "If we just want to head back to Isindyll there's no real need. Won't need this thing, either."

"Might as well head back, then. Even if there're others on board, we should be gone before they find this. If not, well, I think you'll handle alright."

"Very well," Rhys agreed. There was another painful crack, and the body dropped to the ground with a heavy thud. "Let's go."

 

[Peregrine]

It was a short journey back to Isindyll, and the two traveled it in perfect silence. However, when they reached the door granting them access back to Isindyll and entered the narrow corridor leading back to the main passageways, they were brought to a halt before they had even taken a few steps by the sound of Isindyll's voice.

"Ummm... Rhys?"

"What is it, Isindyll?"

"You remember how you kept asking me if I could still detatch."

Rhys was silent for a moment. It didn't take much imagination to guess what was coming next. "Yes."

"Well... I can't anymore. I don't know how, but I'm hooked somehow, and it hurts to try and leave."

"I assume asking where the hook is coming from wouldn't do any good?" Nyarri interjected.

"It's around the airlock. I can feel them touching me right now, but it only hurts when I try and pull away."

"Well, seems we'll have to see if we can't find the controls on board the ship, then."

Rhys nodded. "It can't be a permanent latch, because the pirates fully intended to separate the two ships again. I wonder if there were only the five pirates on board, or if there's another one we can... ask. Either way, I guess that means we turn around. You coming?"

"Got nowhere else to be," the marine replied.

Then began the meticulous search for the controls. Starting from the bridge, Nyarri having claimed (despite the fact a transport ship would not have such a device) it was the only logical place to keep it, the pair worked their way through the ship. Deck to deck, room to room. Dozens of similar, confined passenger quarters, each thoroughly searched and rummaged through before them. Each access port, nook, and cranny in the halls. Nothing seemed out of place or unnecessary.

They made it all the way through to the bottom of the ship before they found another trace of life. Rhys had abandoned the mechanics clothing once it was obvious that there were no more pirates on board for the sake of ease of movement, but upon opening the door to one of the cargo holds Rhys heard a scream of alarm. In the suddenly illuminated huddled well over thirty people, all dressed simply, and all bound together. The entire place stank of fear, and the sight of a writhing mass of feelers seemed to do little to soothe their frazzled nerves. Rhys retreated, going to find Nyarri.

"I found the passengers," Rhys commented blandly. "They appear rather alarmed."

"Understandable - nothing on the switch up here," Nyarri remarked. "Not that I'd be able to tell, anyways. I'm not too familiar with civilian ships."

"Shall we find a way to enlist their aid in searching?"

"If you think it'll work."

"This is the last place we have to check, and I doubt that they left it with their prisoners. That meas we already missed it. I don't really see as we have much choice, if we are going to have to completely toss this place."

"Lead the way."

The people did not recognize Rhys when next the assassin returned to their presence, having adopted the form of a small, thin creature with insect-like legs, utterly covered in long fur that would have made standard clothing impossible. Rhys hesitated at the edge of the room, before smiling broadly and beginning to speak in a clear, ringing voice. "We're with the Police. Don't worry, you are safe now." There was a mutter of relief.

The two of them set about unbinding a couple of the passengers, and quickly enough the entire group was unbound. Most of them milled about in confusion, obviously wanting to leave, but equally obviously unwilling to be the first to step out into the hallway and check whether or not the pirates really were gone. However, not everyone was so uneasy. Rhys and Nyarri were quickly approached by a three-legged creature with a long, narrow body with a thin head, a proboscis, easily 15 eyes, and a ropy tail that split apart at the end and seemed to serve as a hand.

"Is the captain of the ISC Weeping Somnambulist. Many thank-things for coming. Would likely die-dead otherwise."

"Only doing our duty," Rhys replied firmly. "Unfortunately, the pirates were able to lock our craft to yours before we were able to... take care of the problem. We could use some assistance in finding the release mechanism."

"Most passengers be little good-help for task-duty, but crew at your will-use."

"Very good. For now, it would probably be best to lock the general maintenance bay. There's a... bit of a mess in there."

The captain nodded in understanding. "Maintenance-man will handle." The captain turned around. "Crew! Here gather!" Seven people filtered through the milling crowd of passengers and formed a lazy circle around the captain, Rhys, and Nyarri. "Passengers move to room-spaces. Then help police. Clear-given?" There was a mutter of agreement.

It took some time to herd the flock of passengers back to their rooms, but once that was handled Rhys, Nyarri, and the crew of the Somnambulist were able to begin their search in earnest. None of the crew knew what to look for any more than Rhys or Nyarri did, but they were familiar with their ship, which eventually turned out to be just the thing that the two needed. Eventually one of the crew members managed to locate an additional switch that had been installed in a control panel in the kitchen. It took the captain several minutes to calm down the chef, who flew into a rage upon learning that the pirates had tampered with her beloved kitchen.

Just before Rhys and Nyarri left the ship, the assassin remembered something. "I assume your thrusters aren't really damaged?"

"What-being?"

"That was the message in the distress call."

"Sees. No. Is fine. Pirates flew into path, forced full-stop. Boarded. Left ship to float away."

"Makes sense. Don't forget to have those clasps removed from your air lock as soon as you get back to port. If they get seen by another patrol ship who didn't know the situation you could get in very big trouble."

"Thank-things. Will do."

Without further ado, they parted. When Rhys was back within Isindyll, the careful form unraveled, returning Rhys to a ball of feelers. "I hate fur. It's so hard to maintain," the assassin muttered.

"Can't say I share the pain," Nyarri remarked dryly.

"You have to be stuck in a single form your entire life," Rhys replied, slowly pulling back together into the rounded, Vollori-like form. "You've got more than enough pain."

"I don't know, I don't have to deal with fur," the marine quipped, before gesturing in the vague direction of the passenger ship. "You think they'll make it back in one piece?"

"Almost undoubtedly. Their ship is intact, and space is too large for them to run into another band of pirates. The biggest problem they face is the massive fee they are likely going to have to pay to get that illegal latch off their airlock." Together, they made their way back to the bridge.

"Time to get out of here, Isindyll," Rhys said. "Lest we aren't the only ones foolish enough to respond to a distress signal."

"I'm sorry it did turn out to be a trap."

"I told you it would. Both Nyarri and I went in fully expecting it. And, technically, we did save the ship from a rather distressful situation."

Isindyll murmured happily for a moment, before settling again. "Initiating warp!" she cried happily, before space blurred around them.

 

[ze_kraken]

Nyarri stood at the on-board range of the ship, nestled well towards Isindyll's center. To avoid risk of damage and pain to the living ship, the range had been altered to replace physical weaponry with mocked-up handhelds and holographic targets. Having realized the extent to which she had come to rely on Rhys, highlighted by the incident on board the pirate ship, the marine had begun to train regularly once again. As was often the case, Rhys and Isindyll maintained their distance from her. As far as Nyarri was concerned, she was only here until they reached the next resupply planet and let her off for good.

But until that day, Nyarri stood in the range, firing a plas-copy MAC in the silence of the range. The only noise to pierce through came from the on-the-second, digitized 'booms' and 'pings' as shots were launched and struck their targets. She had been dismayed to find that, from her last time in the range, her accuracy had dropped by nearly a tenth. Though steadily on the rise, she had not managed to break ninety-percent without the aid of a targeting computer. Her time slowly became a methodical course of sleeping, training, and wandering Isindyll.

"Nyarri?"

The sudden sound of Isindyll's voice sent a jolt through the marine, her aimed shot veering clear off-target as she squeezed the trigger instinctively. The following 'error' ping sounded and the range reset from stage one again, the red and blue targets pacing slowly left and right along their narrow corridors. Taking a step away from the platform, Nyarri set the MAC in its provided holster, disabling the range's simulation.

"Yes?"

"You can't leave," Isindyll demanded.

Again with this conversation.

"I'm of no use here," Nyarri explained. "That ship? All I served was wasting space - the only situation where I might've been useful was resolved by Rhys getting shot thro-"

"He was shot?!"

"It's not as if that can really kill him - it was a clean hole. Anatomy like that, a little bullet isn't going to do much," Nyarri said. "Only thing he needs to worry about is cutting and slicing."

That much she had seen first-hand. Rhys'evin had been shot, stabbed, and (weak as it was) burned by the kinetic energy of MACs. The only time anything had scored him a near-mortal wound had been her vibro-knife through luck and ideal positioning. Even that, despite shearing a third of the assassin's body, had healed in remarkable time given the specifics.

"But-"

"Doesn't matter - he's fine," the marine snapped, cutting Isindyll off. "That wasn't my point. He was shot, and proceeded to take out every single pirate in there."

She had been prepared to say killed, but if Rhys had not yet mentioned specifics to Isindyll, then she had decided against implicating anything that involved death.

"I'm useless here. Anything I can provide, Rhys'evin can equally do. The only thing you could argue I'm qualified for is logistics and operating some of the ship's systems. As an ensign my entire life was working the jobs on ships that tech staff needed to work. I'm rusty, but I can make it work-"

"Then do that! Stay!" the ship pleaded. "You're Tribe now, you can't leave!"

Tell that to Rhys'evin, she wanted to snap.

But all she blurted out:

"Fine."

 

[Peregrine]

"Nyarri said she's going to stay!"

Rhys had been taking the unusual evening off. The military ship was not designed to be a place of entertainment, but it also had to hold to some of the standards of luxury that were common planetside. For the most part, Rhys was not bothered with these things. The entertainment with the Disciples had always been far more physical and practical than time-wasting, so it had always seemed a bit trivial to the Karthk'yarii. All the same, the assassin did still take the occasional day to relax, and remember that survival was no longer a life-or-death race where even a tiny slip up could mean destruction of self and Tribe.

Apparently, though, it would have been prudent to pay slightly more attention.

"What?!"

"Nyarri said she's going to stay," Isindyll repeated, apparently under the impression that Rhys hadn't understood what she had just said.

"No, I got that Isindyll. What exactly did she say?"

"Well, I said she had to stay because she's tribe, and she said fine."

"Isindyll... How much have you been bothering her about her "having" to stay?"

"Not... Not that much." She sounded rather defensive.

Rhys wasn't convinced. "I see."

"Well, maybe a bit. Maybe quite a bit."

"Isindyll..."

"But I want her to stay! She's important to me. She's Tribe."

Rhys writhed slightly in frustration, before settling into a more solid form. "Isindyll, do you remember what it means for Nyarri to be tribe?"

"t is someone whose safety is of equal or greater importance than your own. It is someone whose desires take precedent over your own." She sounded like she was reciting from a manual.

"And have you considered Z'Nyarri's desires in this matter?"

"I..." And then there was silence.

Rhys waited for a few moments, before standing. "It's okay," the assassin consoled. "I'll go talk to her. You just have to promise me you won't listen to our conversation, alright."

"...Right" Isindyll responded, voice small.

 

[ze_kraken]

"Isindyll told you, then," Nyarri began.

The pair stood in Nyarri's quarters, the expanse of the void devoid of all but the stars outside the only viewport.

"Did you expect her not to?"

"Perhaps not at first," the marine admitted. "Though truthfully I hadn't imagined it would make much of a difference to you."

"Of course it matters," Rhys replied, rather blandly. "You are Tribe."

"The more you and Isindyll throw around that word, the more I begin to believe you don't agree with her decision to hastily throw me into 'Tribe'."

Rhys writhed slightly, apparently in frustration, but when the assassin spoke there was still no trace of emotion in his voice. "It has nothing to do with a decision, or agreement. It is simply a truth."

"Do my actions not affect my position in this 'Tribe'? As I've said before, it seems as I've done nothing to warrant mutual support."

"That is because, I suppose, it does not have to be mutual. I've never been Tribe with an individual who does not understand the concept of Tribe, but I have thought about it a lot at this point, and, when it is refined to its essence, Tribe is not mutual, nor does it need to be reciprocated. It is simply a commitment from one individual to another."

The marine inclined her head in a slight nod.

"Does this mean anything going forward? Should this factor into my decision remain aboard?"

"Of course it means something." For an instant, a touch of fire entered the assassin's voice, but when he spoke again it was already smothered. "I do not know how bonds between people work among your species, Nyarri. Yet here, you have found two individuals who value your life more than their own. Who accept you in your entirety, for exactly what you are. I have seen a lot of the empire, and it is full of many amazing places, but I do not know where else you will find that."

Again a nod.

"The question remains - am I of any worth aboard Isindyll? The fact remains I have endangerd you twice, and if our incident aboard the pirate ship proved anything, it is that my role here is limited. I am trained to fight, something you can already do past my ability ten times over. I am a liability, not an asset."

"I cannot say. You decide your own worth. But if that is why you are considering leaving, because you believe you will put us in danger, perhaps you are already more Tribe than you know."

"But is an action performed for the wrong reasons still part of Tribe? I believe that if I am to prove too much of a threat, direct or otherwise, to you or Isindyll, than the terms of our parting will not be in my own favor, done my own way," Nyarri paused. "Regardless of whether or not that means be death or being marooned, I would rather leave before it becomes a necessity."

"Actions are not a part of the Tribe. Only people are. Do you intend to actively work to bring harm to Isindyll or myself?"

"No," she replied brusquely.

"Do you believe you will ever act against our best interests, whether we are aware of them or not?"

"It is doubtful."

"Then you have asuaged your own doubts. Tribe is not something so superficial that it would be shattered by a mistake or a miscalculation."

"Tribe appears to be many things," Nyarri asserted. "Whether or not I deem it superficial has yet to be seen."

"You are free to make your own judgements. But that, too, does not change the nature of Tribe, or its meaning."

"Then my choice to stay will have no impact upon how things are? We will go our different paths unless one requires the other?"

"That is your choice as well. You are the one who has been avoiding me, not the other way around."

"I haven't put much thought into that decision - it just feels more natural, even if I know the ship is empty."

"If you wish it to remain that way, then it shall. If you do not, it shall not. I will not seek you out, but I will not chase you away, either."

Nyarri contemplated the statement for a moment before speaking. "Understood - will that be all?"

Rhys hesitated for a moment, but spoke again. "No. We have spoken much, but have yet to actually address the issue I came for. I wish to know your thoughts. Do you intend to stay, or leave?"

"I intend to stay so long as you and Isindyll will have me," she spoke, dragging out each word and reiterating. "Until such a time as my presence is harmful or not required."

Rhy's smile was faint, but surprisingly honest. "Isindyll will be very glad to hear that. I think she was afraid she forced you to stay."

"She's certainly difficult to reject," Nyarri joked.

"Yes," Rhys agreed quietly. "Yes she is."

The silence between the two extended.

"That's all? No 'that didn't answer my question's? Nothing more to hammer over me about Tribe?" Her voice hinted at disbelief.

"Nothing," Rhys agreed. "Would you like me to leave?"

"Only if you want - I don't keep a busy schedule."

Rhys lingered in silence for a moment, before laughing faintly. "I get the impression, were I to remain, we would end up sitting in awkward silence, which would accomplish very little." He turned to leave, but hesitated for a moment, back still towards Nyarri. "You should come up to the bridge at some point. I've been slowly teaching myself all of Isindyll's various controls, but a second set of eyes and another mind would be... welcome."

Than, without further word, he left.

Certainly to the point, that one is...

Casting the thought aside, Nyarri slinked back to her cot and gazed past the viewport. Isindyll had forced her to stay on board, whether she or Rhys knew it or not, but the encounter with Rhys had served to quiet some doubts. She would no longer be damned at a slight misstep. This Tribe, whatever it fully entailed, could be used to place a buffer between herself and the others.

"Isindyll?" She had to be sure the ship hadn't listened: no response was forthcoming.

And for once, the silence was golden.

 

[Peregrine]

The following two vars passed in peace and relative silence. Rhys' routine hardly changed with the knowledge that Nyarri was going to be a long term resident now. The assassin still slept when tired, ate and drank regularly, and devoted what time remained to gaining competency with all of Isindyll's various systems, which seemed to be growing more and more extensive with every passing solor.

Isindyll, on the other hand, was a bubbling font of perpetual enthusiasm. She seemed to never remain still for any longer than was absolutely necessary, and as soon as she had managed to build up a small supply of fuel for her warp she would be off, jumping a short distance away. Her response to Rhys' comment that they would actually cover more distance more quickly if she waited for longer in between warp, and went a longer distance in a single jump, was met by a giggle, and a reminder that, if she did that, she'd be missing all the stuff in between. Isindyll seemed determined to complete an entire circuit of the Empire before they ran out of supplies, dancing along the border planets, and occasionally all the way out beyond the border planets into uncharted space. She would spend several delens quietly orbiting a planet, both civilized and uncivilized, with and without life, quietly admiring it for all its unique attributes, and speculating with Rhys, and presumably Nyarri as well, if the marine would oblige her, about the kind of things that could live there.

What did change though was, a little over a solor since their conversation about Nyarri's intent to remain on board, the marine came up to the bridge, and silently moved her way over to one of Isindyll's consoles. Before anything even remotely resembling an awkward silence could begin to form the young ship burst into chatter, dragging both Nyarri and Rhys, willingly or unwillingly, into conversation.

They settled into a somewhat comfortable routine. Rhys was still not entirely thrilled with Nyarri's presence on board, but that was mostly irrelevant at this point and Rhys kept it as hidden as possible. Nyarri was Tribe, and while Rhys did not have to like everyone who was Tribe, it was necessary to respect their presence and care about their happiness and survival.

And so the two vars passed. Rhys kept a careful eye on their supplies, not wanting to push it so far that they risked accidentally running out of food and water, should one of their attempts to resupply not go as planned. When the assassin judged they were only a few more solors from running out, he, Nyarri, and Isindyll set to work picking out a suitable planet at which to resupply.

They were somewhat limited in their choice by the fact that Isindyll insisted the planet had to be pretty. She had been very bored, she proclaimed, above that planet where they'd met Etsy, when she had been waiting for Rhys and Nyarri to return. Eventually, however, they managed to locate a planet that was wealthy enough to have an imperial bank, where Rhys would be able to withdraw some hoarded money that the Disciples should not have been able to find upon his capture, where there would be enough large ships passing through to buy a large quantity of food and water that their purchase would not raise any questions, and that met Isindyll's aesthetic demands. Nyarri plotted their course, and they set off.

 

[ze_kraken]

Nyarri hated civilian clothing. It was loose, baggy, and light-weight. There was no place for energy packs, no familiar pressing of tight synth-skin scaling, no holster upon her hip. The most she had managed to allow herself had been two plate inserts underneath a large, hooded tunic with long sleeves and combat boots. Her stripped-down MAC sat presently across her cot, the plain weapon surrounded by its various components. Barrel extensions, foldable stock, sights for when a HUD wasn't available. Standard issue, all of it. Problem was, no normal individual would be toting a military-quality weapon around; the fact it was stripped down spoke even more to its illegality than did the weapon itself.

What to do with it?

If she took the weapon along, it would be a hindrance more than an aid. Armed with only her vibro-knife (another case of dubious legality), however, anyone else with a gun would pose an issue. Once upon the surface, she could purchase a lower-tech weapon with ammunition to spare one way or another, but the problem was getting there and back without raising too many alarms. Rising to her feet and leaving her quarters, Nyarri began the lonely voyage to the docking bay, knife digging its hilt into her side beneath two layers of cloth. Not ideal, not practical, but then, she did have Rhys'evin at her side.

"People always love to shoot a big head," she huffed to herself with amusement.

---

The trip down had been as smooth as any planetfall had a right to be. When at last the two had reached the spacedock upon the planet's surface, they had gone their separate ways. Nyarri to find weapons for herself and see to gathering supplies, Rhys to withdraw funds. They would have to reconvene once Rhys had made his transaction, but at least they would know the lay of the land. As this planet was one-of-a-kind this far out into the fringes of the Empire in that it held the atmosphere of a core world, the settlement they had landed in was from first glance twice the size of the one they had found Etsy on.

Though there were various access terminals around the urban landscape, Nyarri still found herself stopping frequently to find directions to various market streets. There were as many as four in the immediate area of the port, but those had been mostly trade goods. Various time-saving gadgets, suspicious 'high quality' secondhand goods, and cheap knockoffs of consumer products. Nothing they needed. According to the most recent terminal, one was within two city blocks. After having confirmed this was a few willing locals, Nyarri's attention shifted from finding food to finding a replacement to her MAC: she would keep the military gear for when it was warranted, but on any planet, she would need to work to divert attention, not garner it.

---

"No, no, no," the weapon shop owned repeated in broken Imperial Common. "Has all paperwork filed. 'Es legal weapon."

On the counter between the former marine and the owner sat a long, cumbersome rifle with a manual breach.

"Something smaller, perhaps?"

"Oh, 'ye, plenty of those!" The shopkeep chirped. When he returned, a small pistol was clutched in three-fingered hands. "This very good, ready to sell."

Nyarri took the weapon and tested in the palm of her hand. Though lighter than what she was accustomed to, the handle a tad too wide for practical use to allow for a larger caliber of round, the barrel just under long-range standards.

"Oxidizer?"

"Se se?"

"Does it have an oxidizer?"

"Oh, ye, planet have oxee-gyn." Infuriating.

"No, can I shoot this in space? Does it work with no air?" Nyarri questioned, tone harsh.

"Oh! OH! Ye, it go in space," the shopkeep mimed a finger gun with both hands. "Real good."

Doubting the legitimacy of the claim, Nyarri nodded, sliding over the little bit remaining of her wages from her work upon Isindyll. It would have to do until a later date, and she felt keeping Rhys waiting any longer than necessary would be out of order. She clipped the weapon to a newly-purchased holster (which had taken all of her pay), and set back to their set meeting point.

 

[Peregrine]

If there was one thing Rhys'evin was not used to, it was having to worry about money. Money was a concept that had baffled the Karthk'yarii for quite some time after getting picked up by the Disciples, and although Rhys was now willing to claim a general competency with the subject, the assassin could not claim any level of expertise. Like all good criminals, Rhys had hid away a stash of funds in case of emergency, these funds as it had happened, but it was more done out of precaution and because everyone else was doing it than because Rhys had ever really expected to need it. The Disciples had always funded everything Rhys needed, and the assassin had always been cheap compared to some of the more luxury-driven members among the Disciples.

But now, funds had suddenly become everything. There was no doubt that Isindyll was better equipped than most ships for lengthy deep space travel, but she still required clean water and supplies that couldn't be grown on a semi-regular basis. Rhys was going to have to pay for these things, and there was nowhere near enough money left in this little safeguard would not be enough to last them indefinitely, no matter how conservative Rhys was with his purchases. The assassin would need to find new ways to acquire funds, and relatively soon.

For now, though, it was something Rhys set aside. The Disciples might have funded every mission in which the assassin participated, but Rhys had still been expected to compile lists of everything that would be needed, and then send that list to the people who would be responsible for acquiring it. Rhys had a good sense for how much things might cost, and there was enough for at least another two or three stops before serious worry over funds would be necessary.

Everyone in the Imperial Bank turned to cast a rather surprised look at the fat, puffy creature with massively oversized hands that waddled into the bank. The Cqwont were rarer in the outskirts of the universe than in the center of the planet, but they were known for being slow-moving, peaceful creatures with a penchant for anything that could be labeled quality. Very few had the money to finance their extravagant tastes, but those that did were some of the best customers that a company could ever wish for. All companies, banks included, took the arrival of a Cqwont on their premise very seriously, for there were few enough of them that a bad review from one could spread to every other individual in the galaxy, and that could be very bad for business.

This was precisely why Rhys had adopted this particular body when it came time to create a bank account. While people would remember the arrival of a Cqwont on the premises, none would ever expect them to be involved in anything nefarious, and depositing and withdrawing large funds wouldn't raise a single eyebrow.

Rhys left with enough funds to easily resupply Isindyll, even at the rather expensive prices that were common in the border planets, and still have a little bit left over. The assassin found a dark corner shortly after leaving the bank, using that time to get out of the Cquont form, and take up the form of the red-haired Arak'un bimale that Rhys had last been using before Nyarri had left. It was not the most practical of combat forms, but it was good for trading, and that was exactly what Rhys needed right now. It was certainly many times better than the fat Cqwont, which could barely move faster than a crawl, even when really trying.

Rhys didn't have to wait long for Nyarri to show up after getting to the meeting spot, and as soon as the Karthk'yarii saw her Rhys stood and moved over to her.

"Got everything you need?" He asked. "I'd rather not stick around long after we've finished our shopping, so if you've got anything else you want to do better do it now."

 

[ze_kraken]

Nyarri had barely managed a few steps through their predetermined rendezvous before she was approached by a red-headed Arak'un. Prepared to dismiss the bimale as another merchant, the marine had nearly shouldered past the creature before it spoke to her. Out of instinct, Nyarri was about to utter a polite dismissal before she heard the words.

"Got everything you need?" It questioned. "I'd rather not stick around long after we've finished our shopping, so if you've got anything else you want to do better do it now."

Rhys'evin, of course.

"Probably should have talked about what form you'd take before leaving," Nyarri offered dryly. "I've got all I need. There's a wholesale food market not too far from here. As long as we plan to buy in bulk, it'll be best we head there. If people ask, we're looking to stock our ship before making a long haul across the Core. I'm security staff, you're the captain of the ship working out the deal personally."

Through unspoken assent, the pair made their way to the indicated market street. A host of staff buzzed about the narrow strip, hauling (or rather overseeing the hauling) of massive crates of consumable goods atop floating pallets, signing for orders, or loading small transports. Upon either side of the street stood warehouses and wide doorways piled high with goods or occupied by this transport or that. Though it took longer than expected, a deal for food and water was struck and the prices set. With the order left to processing, Nyarri and Rhys waited half a Delen before the goods were cleared for transport out of the warehouse.

"And you're sure your pond-skipper can bear the weight?" The warehouse worker had questioned, slightly dumbfounded when Nyarri gave him the make and model of the ship.

"This thing could carry half a dozen armored soldiers if it had to," she had replied, daring the insectoid to challenge her.

"What kind of crew you running anyways? That thing's got military written all over it."

"Surplus - you take what you can get," Nyarri remarked with an air of confidence. "Can't be picky when you're a start-up, can you?"

That had quieted any other questions from the worker, much to Nyarri's amusement. Without further word, they all piled on to the flatbed transport and made their way back to the docks.

Once they had returned to the intermediate ship at the docks with cargo in-hand, the pair set about loading the smaller craft for the return voyage, dismissing the provided heavy-lifters once the food and water had been placed atop the flat landing pad. From there, it took another half-Delen to manage to maneuver and squeeze the crates into the ship: though the crates themselves were optimized to peak space efficiency, their chosen craft was meant to transport soldiers, not stacks of supplies. Satisfied that their ship was both able to still leave atmosphere and that the crates would not move around too much upon exit, they returned to the main hub to pay the toll of docking and finalize their preparations to leave.