Drop Zone [Short solo]

[Liquid Ice]

19:00 Emidar Standard Time
City of Grand Designs Biodome, Planet Katen

--

There was nothing grand about the City of Grand Designs. At least, not anymore. It was always dark and always raining. It wasn’t natural rain; it was the slimy oozy condensation along the top of the dome that had gotten too heavy to cling to the permaglass surface and plummeted to the ground in fat drops of aqua-green goop. Liquid Ice glanced in irritation at a particularly gooey drop that plopped onto her bare shoulder, wiping it off with a grimace of distaste. Why anyone would still live inside this failed experiment she couldn’t fathom. The planet itself had long since died; it’s resourced raped by a greedy conglomerate government that cared nothing for it’s once rich cultural history. The biodome had been the last bastion of hope for the indigenous population. That had put all their money into its construction, but that had been over a hundred standard units ago, and the bio tech of the day was not standing the test of time. The lighting units were going out one by one and they just didn’t make replacements for gear this old. The few lights that did still work no longer responded to their day/night cycle programming. The result was a constant twilight that, combined with the slimy rain, made the place inhospitable to all but the most desperate. After two months of searching for the elusive Dr. Aki Sakura, Liquid – in truth she hadn’t thought of herself as ‘Kharis’ in a very long time – had finally tracked her prey to this … armpit of the universe. She lightly pinched her small, pointed nose. It smelled like someone’s arm pit at least.

She’d hoped that she wouldn’t have to spend too much time in this hope forsaken dome but the computers were all either too old or decrepit to give her the information she needed. That meant she would be doing things the old fashioned way. Glancing about more out of habit than real suspension someone was following her, she slipped into an out of the way clothing shop that had once had clear glass windows long since crusted over with the raining goo. The inside of the store was mostly bare, all the merchandise being safely out of reach behind the counter. A portly man sat behind the counter on a short stool. He had a thick bushy beard and thinning hair, his skin a slightly nauseating waxy crust that had given birth to unnatural bumps where the oil had pooled beneath his skin and now bulged to bursting. At the sound of the door buzzer, the merchant looked up from the news tablet he had been reading; quickly clicking over to a new paged but not before Liquid caught a glimpse of a svelte, naked form. The glance of disinterest he gave her own form, barely hidden by her tight fitting jumpsuit, filled in the information that the figure on the tablet had probably been a young male. Having no personal interest in the fact one way or the other, she simply filed it away as she approached the counter.

“Vhatcha vant?” The man uttered in a guttural, highly bastardized variation of Galactic. He didn’t put the news tablet away but the way his eyes flickered rapidly from her to something out of the way under the counter informed her that he probably had a weapon hidden under there. Not really interested in a firefight over an apparel shop, she lightly touched her palm to her forehead in an age old Vastian gesture of nonaggression. Although the man showed no signs that he actually recognized the meaning of the gesture, he obviously understood submissive behavior when he saw it and relaxed slightly.

“Need a raincoat.” Liquid answered his question, making her rather fluent Galactic sound broken as well. She ran a hand through her short blue hair and shook the water off with an exaggerated look of disgust.

“Ah yes, be needing coat if not vanting to become soup here, yes?” He gave a hearty laugh at what he obviously believed to be a very funny joke. Liquid merely nodded and smiled as if it had been truly funny. “But first there being the matters of paying, no?”

Liquid gave a grimace she didn’t quite have to fake as she fished some trapezoidal credit chits from a pouch on her belt, lying smoothly. “My last employer is rat, and pays useless Emdarian Imperial note. I can give many more since hard to spend. Surely trader such as you can move such note somewhere.”

The merchant put aside the news tablet and stroked his thick oily beard in thought. “I know of mans who use such note, but not one-to-one trading, you be understanding? You pay twice and I be trading, otherwise you be pawning off thin moneys to other poor traders, no?”

“Is generous to be trading thin money at all.” Liquid answered with a smile. “Paying twice is no trouble.”

“Ha, being goodly customer you are, yes?” He gave another belly laugh and rose from his stool. “We be finding something to fit tall stick like you, me thinking. Give time and I return!”

Liquid blinked a few times and gave a soft click of her tongue. Be nice to some people and they just go soft. True, there wasn’t much in the open area of the shop he’d left her in, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anything at all of value. The first thing to go into her pouch was a small personal heating unit, considering that the temperature in the biodome was rarely over freezing, such a thing was probably worth a pretty penny. Next was some kind of unopened food wrapper. The picture on the front didn’t look too appealing but emergency food was usually a good thing. Just as the owner’s footsteps echoed signally his return, Liquid’s eyes caught the small shimmer of what had to be some kind of drug injector. Always a market for those. That vanished into one of the utility pouches as well before Liquid drifted back to where she had stood before, idly rocking back and forth from her toes to her heels, looking like a bored, innocent patron.

“Ah ha! Ve is not having raincoat for little twig like yourself but finding nice hood cloak to keep hair dry. Is just as good, yes?” The merchant draped the long hooded cloak over the heavily scratched lacquered counter and patted the thick material. “Vould be asking 300 good monies for such fine cloak but as goodly customer is paying twice, 600 thin monies be fair, I thinking, yes?”

Liquid ran her fingers over the thick cloth of the cloak for a moment, gauging the man’s expression to see if he expected haggling. He was asking far too much she knew but it looked like he was hoping she wouldn’t argue. He was taking a risk accepting Emdarian coin, however she’d really procured it. Of course the reason she hadn’t just stole a coat to begin with was in part to get rid of the Imperial script before getting too far away from the Empire’s influence were it would be worse than useless, it’d be a liability to use. Nodding once she began counting out the 10 unit coins, trying not to wince when she noticed there were less than 100 credits left from her stolen Imperial coin. “Is fair for trader taking thin money.”

Once the merchant had recounted the money and tested a random few of the trapezoid credit chits to make sure they were genuine he nodded and handed over the thick cloak. “You is much goodly customer, be having fine day now!”

“It’s been pleasure.” Liquid answered with a half bow, folding the cloak around her shoulders and fastening the simple iron clasp around her neck. She gave the merchant one last smile and pulled the hood up over her now mostly dry and slightly crusted hair. Now that she was slightly less conspicuous in a vagabond town and had a few local items for barter, it was time to do what she did best. Hunting…

[Liquid Ice]

23:00 Emidar Standard Time
City of Grand Designs Biodome, Planet Katen

---

It seemed the people of the biodome didn’t believe in naming things anymore. It had taken a while of observing the citizen’s behaviors to figure out that the rounded trailer, which looked to have once been a part of some pubic transportation system, was the local tavern. No one paid attention to a ragged figure in a dirty old cloak as she slipped in and drifted towards the far side of the bar. Most of the rest of the patrons didn’t look too different from her. It was cold even in doors and most of them were huddled inside coats, cloaks, blankets or whatever scraps of cloth they could find to stay warm. Some were even noticeably shivering inside their garments. There were few faces to be seen and those she did glimpse were hard and cold, dead-enders who had found a spot to hole up and die. The place itself was none too interesting. It was small and cramped and there were no decorations, just a tall bar and a single barkeep. There didn’t seem to be any waitresses or wenches about, nor was there stockroom entrance anywere. Seemed it was a matter of what you saw was what you got.

Taking the stool nearest the back, she waited patiently for the barkeep’s attention. It took almost twenty minutes of the green skinned, bald bartender looking at her questioningly before she finally understood how things seemed to be working. Next timed he glanced her way, she flashed two of her last ten Imperial credit chits. He gave a look of distaste at the color of her coin, but next time he finished an order he made his way over towards her.

“You realize that stuff is near useless around here, right?” He asked her in fairly standard Galactic.

“I know.” She replied, trying to clear up her own accent. “But my last employer pawned these off on me and it’s all I have to spend until my ship comes in.”

“Sucks for you.” The bartender answered. “So what will you have? Keep in mind its steep if you’re paying with that shit.”

“Cloudburst and some salt sticks.” She replied, purposely choosing one of the most popular choices for interstellar drifters of almost any profession.

“Thirty coin for the drink, twenty for the sticks.” She gave the wince she knew he was expecting and let him defend himself quickly. “It bites but I’ve got to turn a profit too, you know.”

Liquid forced a sigh and counted out half her remaining coins, hesitating before flipping a sixth on the top of the pile. “Can’t really blame you though. Must be hard to turn a profit at all in this place.”

“In coin, yes.” The barkeep answered distractedly as he filled her order. “But the barter around here’s pretty thriving. Watch the traffic and time it right and you can snag some pretty rare stuff out of here.”

“Black market?” Liquid pressed, keeping her tone light.

“Yeah.” The barkeep replied, pulled the salt sticks from under the counter. “The service tunnels are so old they’re made of discrete, and you know the weird shit they put in that mix, seems they got something toxic in the batch they poured the foundations with. It will kill most of us if we stay here too long but it wrecks any kind of sensors and keep the snoops out.”

“Guess every cloud does have its silver lining.” Liquid mused as she took a sip of her drink, only years of training keeping her from spitting it straight back out. She had no idea what the man had given her, but it certainly wasn’t what they made Cloudbursts out of back in the Empire. The barkeeper had moved on and even if her expression had slipped, he didn’t notice. Fighting back a sigh and the knowledge she was going to have to drink the swill he’d given her, just looked at it for a long minute. Well, she’d had to drink worse when she’d been stranded on missions. It was just that she’d been looking forward to drinking a good Cloudburst again…

“I’ve been out of Zweihalder for years.” The barkeep said without looking up from where he was restocking the bar. Liquid hid a grin behind her drink. The man was good. “Just can’t get the good stuff way out here, and when that shit sours it stinks bad enough to smell even here.”

“So what do you make your Cloudbursts out of, then?” She asked, circling a mixing stick through the liquid, swirling the distinct blue and white liquids that gave the drink its name.

“Some local moonshine.” He answered, rising and dusting his hands off. “The borroke cream I can get in powder form, so I’m set there. If you haven’t had the real stuff in years, it’s not so bad.”

“Ah…” Liquid kept slowly stirring the drink, trying to decide if she was brave enough to drink it. She had paid thirty credits for it… “I actually got a Core run a few units back and got to taste an actual Zwielise Cloudburst.”

“How’d you go from a Core run to this backlot?” The bar was almost empty at this hour, and his tasks mostly done, the barkeeper actually had the time to chat.

“Bad luck.” Liquid answered with a grin. “I tell you, you piss off one self important little bureaucrat and bam, no one will touch your shipper’s license with a ten foot pole...”

“Oh, I hear you there.” He moved over to the small sink behind the counter and began running water. “You won’t believe the red tape a place like this has to open a business. I almost didn’t get to start this bar because some guy likes to think he has power. I mean come on - this is as deep in a snark’s den as you can go. Who really cares about zoning rules and proper safety features?”

Liquid made a face and drank a slow sip of her faux Cloudburst. “I couldn’t imagine getting stuck dirtside forever. I’d go stir crazy. Ma always did say I had wanderlust in my bones.”

“If you hate being on a planet so much, why stay here?” He asked as he rinsed off the glasses he’d stacked up behind the counter. “This place sucks even for people who like having both feet on solid ground.”

Liquid gave another long suffering sigh as she swirled the liquid around in her glass. “Well, you see… I went and made a bet with my captain about the outcome of that last Slashball tourney and those stupid Zathawks had to go and lose like pussies…”

“Oh, I get it.” The barkeeper chuckled and he dried off his hands. “And he won’t let you back on board until you pay up, huh?”

Liquid grinned sheepishly. “Yeah. I took a job that should have gotten me enough and the bastard paid me in Imperial script and I know Cap’n won’t take that crap. He’ll be back in two days and I don’t have two decent coins to rub together.”

“Tell you what, kid.” The barkeeper straightened and tossed aside the handtowel. “I like you. You’re young and you’ve got real spirit. I’ll tell you how to get underground. Can’t make any promises, what you make of it when you get there is your own business. I’ll even toss in a decent drink before you go.”

Liquid gave a genuine smile. “Thanks, man. You’re the best.”

[Liquid Ice]

36:30 Emidar Standard Time
City of Grand Designs Biodome, Planet Katen

---

Somehow, the underground managed to stink even worse. Even before the thin slivers of light from the sewer grate had vanished behind her, she was breathing through her mouth the keep from gagging. The constant rain meant there the drainage lane she was using was filled ankle deep with the slimy rain, making Liquid very, very glad that her shoes were both oil and slip resistant. And that the cloak the merchant have given her was too short and didn’t fall past her knees. For the moment it was safe from the sludge she was wading through. It was not, however, immune to the even more ooze that dropped from the ceiling onto her hood. She glared down at the turgid liquid around her feet. Only in a hell like this could it still rain underground. It was also unaccountably colder. It should have been warmer underground, closer to the planet’s core. Unless the core was cooling, which was a wonderful thought. At least she wasn’t going to be around long enough for that to become a problem for her.

After what felt like miles of slogging through stagnant goo but was probably more like half of one, the small tunnel widened out into junction of seven smaller tubes and a large reservoir. The large vat of gunk looked like it had, over time, solidified into something about the consistency of a swimming pool sized booger. Liquid had to cover her nose and mouth with one hand while she skirted around the discrete edge of the reservoir to reach the access tunnel the led even further down.

After she wrestled the grating cover off and dropped down into the access tunnel, she found herself staring down the wrong end of a blazer pistol. Staying crouched where she had landed, she slowly raised both hands over her head, keeping her hands open and her palms facing the gunman, hoping her wouldn’t notice the energy emitters on the back of her hands. He motioned for her to rise with the barrel of his gun and she slowly straightened, making no sudden movements. He opened her cloak and gave her a quick pat-down with her free hand. He obviously didn’t share the tastes of the merchant, though she felt more annoyed than anything when his hand lingered a few places where it shouldn’t have.

“How’dja get down here?” He growled, taking a step back. He had a thick mane of black hair that feel freely down past his shoulders and solid brown eyes that showed a flicker of dying intelligence. He looked as if he might have been a well built man at one point, but over work and under eating had left him looking dried and withered. It was a shame too, his face might have been handsome if it wasn’t dried and pot marked. He was probably physically stronger than her and a quick draw obviously. A large overcoat covered his frame and concealed any other weapons he might have had. She was at an obvious disadvantage, especially since he’d backed out of claw range.

“I dropped down a sewer grate.” Liquid answered honestly, keeping her voice quiet and level.

“Why would’ja go and do a thing like that?” He asked darkly as he slid one hand inside his shabby coat and pulled out a bulky hand communicator. He didn’t speak into it, merely clicked the ‘SEND’ button twice with his thumb.

“A littler birdie told me I could turn a profit underground if I was smart about it.” She answered with a faint smirk.

“Better watch who you listen to, girl.” The man answered gruffly, glancing at the communicator as if waiting some kind of answer. “All that waits for pretty things like you is an ugly death.”

“I can handle myself.” Liquid sniffed, adding a bit of clichéd twenty-something arrogance to her tone.

“Not down here.” The man answered, seeming genuinely concerned. “You don’t know what you’re getting in-”

“The Boss is busy, whaddaya want?” The black box in his hand squawked, interrupted him.

The man thumbed the send button. “Got a vixen dropping in unannounced.”

“She a looker?” The shrill voice demanded.

“Bit thin but not bad.” The man answered, sparing another glance at Liquid’s dress under her cloak. “She ain’t here for that though. Seems she’s got it in her head she’s got big enough britches to take a bit of the action.”

There was a pause and Liquid held her breath. She had feeling the ‘Boss’ would have just ordered her brought in by force. This lackey was just dumb enough to let her in alone.

“Let her in. She fucks up she’s meat anyhow.” There was a crackle and the man winced at the sound before putting the communicator away.

“Guess it’s your lucky day.” The guard put away his blazer and rubbed his hands together before breathing into them. “You can go in and get yourself killed after all.”

Liquid let her hands fall to her side, pulling her cloak around her, hoping it did a convincing act of making her look cold. Vashti was on the outer rim of it’s solar system and her people were cold natured to begin with. It would need to be much colder than this to bother her. Still, she didn’t want to stand out…

“How the blazing hells are you not shivering in that get-up?” The guard asked, his voice still gruff but having just a tone of fondness. He probably didn’t get to see girls much at this shitty post.

“Oh…” Liquid’s mind scrambled and then quickly hit upon an idea. Reaching into one of her utility packs she pulled out the small heating unit she had swiped from the merchant. She serendipitously flipped it on with her thumb, hoping it heated up quickly enough he’d believed she’d be using it the whole time. “I got this dirt cheap from a bazaar on desert planet, he’d gotten it in a take it or leave it auction lot and couldn’t wait to unload it for whatever he could get. I snagged it on a whim, imagine it actually turning out to be useful…”

“That thing’s worth my year’s salary.” The guard snapped, obviously annoyed by her flippancy. “You take that thing in there, someone will slit your throat for it before you can say sunshine.”

Liquid gave a vixen’s grin. “But you’ll take it off my hands before anything happens to my pretty little throat?”

To her surprise the guard blushed and glanced away. “Not what I meant.”

Liquid gave a soft chuckle, poor guy was in the wrong line of work. Though his softness had probably been what got him exiled to this post. “Here’s a deal for you then, I’ll trade you this heating unit for a name.”

“A name.” The guard echoed suspiciously.

Liquid shrugged and tossed the small heater from hand to hand. “Somethin’ tells me you guys got the action sewed up tight in there, give me a name where to start and it makes both our lives a lot easier.”

The guard glared at her for a long moment before grudgingly muttering. “Martus. You want Martus Lendry. I make no promises but if anyone can slip you through the cracks he can.”

Liquid smiled and tossed the man the heating unit which he quickly slipped under his jacket before stepped out of her way. She had made it a few feet past him with he stopped her with a call.

“Wait.”

She half turned to look at him, just tilting her head in question. He pulled something else from under his spacious jacket and threw it to her. She caught it and unrolled it, just looking at the mask in puzzlement.

“You’ll need it.” He said darkly. “If you think it stinks here, it ain’t nothin’ next to the Den. You ain’t got one of those your eyes’ll start waterin’ AND it’ll mark you as a know-nothin.”

“Thanks.” Liquid nodded and just turned it over in her hands a few times before turning back towards the end of the tunnel, making it a few more steps before he stopped her again.

“Hey, I gotta call ahead if you don’t want him to just hand you your nice little ass. Who should I tell him to expect?”

Liquid turned to look over her shoulder and winked at the guard. “Charon. Charon Darkstar.”

[Liquid Ice]

38:00 Emidar Standard Time
Den of Requite, City of Grand Designs Biodome, Planet Katen

---

Liquid hadn’t made it more the a quarter mile further down the poorly lit tunnel before she was forced to put the mask on. Unfortunately for her, the inside the mask didn’t smell much better. Like most previously used masks tended to do, the inside of it smelled like zathawk breath. It was a little awkward to wear, designed for faces longer and wider than hers but it still manage to fit snugly enough over her nose and mouth, the wide band of stretchable cloth covering almost the entire lower half of her face. Though, it wasn’t much longer before she had to pull out the small pair of goggles that had also been rolled up with the mask and settle them over her quickly watering eyes. The stench was absolutely unbearable. And she was starting to figure out why. Whoever had poured the discrete foundations of the biodome had failed to put in any kind of exit for the drainage. All that water just pooled down beneath the surface, filling the reservoirs and stagnating. Now she new what the barkeep had meant about keeping the snoops out…

Liquid knew she was approaching the Den of Requite when she came across the first bum. She’d never understood why the homeless and penniless gravitated towards places like this, especially since it usually got them killed, but it was inevitable that if there was a black market hub anywhere on the planet, it was going to be surrounded by drifters. The first few that she came across with either asleep, dead or unconscious. It was when she started to come across the ones that were still awake that things began to get ugly. The first few lurched to their feet, shuffling towards her like some kind of mucus-revived zombies. She skirted past them, quickening her pace, but the deeper she went the more there were and they harder they were to ignore.

“Just a credit, credit for a blind man…”
“Come on sweetheart, show an old man a good time, eh?”
“Have you got any food? Any food at all? I haven’t eaten for days…”
“I’m not like them, I’ve got a family, kids! Think of my kids, lady!”

Liquid pulled her cloak tighter around her and ducked her head, pushing her way through the ratty throng. Luckily most of them were starved and weak and she was able to shake off their hands. In the end she was reduced to breaking into a sprint, running the last quarter mile of pipes and nearly falling head first into a lake of sludge when the access tunnel opened up into the master reservoir. Grabbing hold of the edge of the doorway, she started blankly at the semi-solid bog that extended farther out into the darkness than she could see. It had to be several miles wide. No wonder the whole biodome stank to the highest heavens. But, that wasn’t what really held her attention. It was the fact that someone had actually built an entire city on a girder constructed island in the middle of it. The Den of Requite wasn’t some shady hideaway in the sewers. It was an entire city built underground. That was certainly going to change things. For one thing, a single man was going to be hard as all hells to find. That name might not help her too much after all.

Shaking herself out of her momentary stupor, she set out quickly along one of the support struts that connected to the wall near the tunnel’s exit. It was narrow and groaned ominously under her weight. She paused about halfway across it, balancing herself carefully, arms slightly outstretched. Even when she stopped moving, however, the strut continued to groan loudly and sway faintly under her feet. She spared a glance over her shoulder and swore viciously under her breath. The bums where following her out onto the strut! Still swearing softly to herself she set out once more across the strut, almost running along the narrow beam. It didn’t help, however. She was only about three-fourths of the way across the strut when it began to buck wildly beneath her, knocking her off balance. She fell hard onto her stomach, clinging to the undulating strip of metal while she tried to catch her breath. Then, with one last shuddering whine, the beam snapped. Liquid clung to the narrow strut, the soft metal of her gauntlets screeching angrily as it slid along the rough metal of the strut. She managed to swing around to set her feet against he surface of the metal, the solid grip of her boots catching against the beam and holding after sliding only a few short feet.

Liquid simply clung there for a moment catching her breath and trying to ignore the pitiful cries of the swiftly sinking drifters that had fallen into the voracious ooze. When her heart rate had slowed to a decent level, she reached into one of her belt pouches and pulled out her grappling hook. It was a simple matter to hook it around one of the massive pylons jutting out of the gelatinous lake. Though, it was slow going walking up the slime-slickened metallic surface that now hung at a forty-five degree angle and shifted randomly with the swings in her weight. As she neared the end of her little diagonal jaunt she realized that the last few feet were going to be tricky. She was going to have to somehow climb up the last, most vertical, surface and jump over the sheered stump of the strut. All without her grapple wire, which was at too sharp and angle to be useful to her at this point.

The answer presented itself a moment later in the form of a rather dirty, rather large hand. Liquid blinked a few times and looked up at the ragged scarecrow of a man who was offering his assistance. After a brief moment of weighing her very few options, she pried her fingers away from the tiny monofilament grapple line and accepted the offered hand. His fingers engulfed her entire wrist easily and he pulled her up with a single hand and deposited her in a heap beside him.

“Be more careful, Tiny.” The large figure grunted. “The Den eats kittens like you for breakfast.”

“Thanks...” Liquid bowed her head to hide a blush of embarrassment and busied herself with retrieving her grapple line and hook. When she turned back around, the man had seated himself back in the shadow of the pylon. The empty shipping box, scattered bits of cloth and metal seemed to suggest the man lived there. Obviously he was another drifted, but one still in better fortunes than the ones in the tunnels. Carefully sitting down beside the man, Liquid dug into her belt pouches once more and pulled out the vac-sealed food wrapper she swiped earlier in the day. The friendly giant looked at the package with obvious interest. Liquid smiled and casually offered the man the food. “Say, do you happen to know where a man named Martus Lendry lives on this island?”

[Liquid Ice]

38:15 Emidar Standard Time
Lendry Villa, Den of Requite, City of Grand Designs Biodome, Planet Katen

---

The house was exactly where he said it would be. Liquid only hoped the man was honest and had enough of his faculties left to have given her the right directions. Like every other building on the island, it was a prefab affair made of the same unforgiving sludge-rust greenish brown. Unlike most buildings, it had more than one story. Three, to be exact. It was a good sign. Powerful people did like bigger houses. Gathering the remains of her dignity and the edges of her now slime-soaked cloak, she marched right up to the door and rapped her knuckles against it. The door opened to reveal a moderately attractive young woman in what appeared to be an archaic black and white maid’s outfit. Two things caught Liquid’s attention. The first was that the girl wore no mask. The second was that a faint breeze was coming from inside the room. An air generator or purifier of some sort, most likely. The girl merely stared inquisitively at Liquid, waiting for her to speak first. This threw the hunter off a bit, but she recovered quickly and gave her best wolfish smile. “My name’s Charon Darkstar, I’m expected.”

“Ah, yes.” The maid bowed faintly at the waist. “If you will follow me…”

The maid led her silently up several flights of stairs to the very top of the building. As it turned out the entirety of the third floor had been converted into a massive library. The blonde haired man who stood along the raised upper tier of shelves looked so much like the archaic picture he had been trying to paint that Liquid didn’t notice him at first. He was dressed in loose breeches of what appeared to be wool, with a bright red sash and an open white shirt that revealed defined muscles along his abdomen. Martus Lendry was a tall and whip-thin man, who somehow managed to appear deeply tanned. There was a kind of coiled energy in his movements and when he looked up from the book he had been examining, he pinned then young hunter with bright green eyes that showed more energy and life than she had seen in the entirety of her stay on Katen.

“Gavin told me that some bullheaded slip of a girl was coming to my villa on a fool’s errand.” Martus snapped the book closed with a muffled whump. “But somehow you don’t seem match that description, if you really are Charon Darkstar.”

Liquid gave a rueful smile and pulled off her cloak, handing it absently to the maid. The shorter woman looked at the rain-drenched length of wool in disgust for a moment before quietly slipping out of the room, holding it as if it carried the plague. “Very perceptive, Mister Lendry. Your guard friend is far too nice for his own good. Commendable in its own way, but life is rarely kind in return. My name is actually Kendra Masterson, and I’m here for a very specific reason, which isn’t one of making a personal fortune.”

Martus sat the book aside and turned to face her. He rested his hands on the railing, looking down at his guest as if she were a supplicant before a deity in his hall. “And what mission might that be, Miss Masterson?”

“I have something to acquire and something to offload.” Liquid answered, pulling off the vile smelling mask and filth covered goggles. “As I believe is the etiquette in such places as these.”

“Indeed.” There was a chuckle in Lendry’s voice as he watched her take a grateful breath of his clean air. “That air purifier cost me more than any other single investment in this venture. It is good to see my guests enjoying it.”

“You are indeed a gracious host.” Liquid answered politely, not looking away. He was trying to intimidate her, or humble her. She thought she saw a spark of respect when she held her ground.

“What did you bring?” He asked, briskly changing the subject as he straightened and turned away from the railing to descend the curved stairs.

“I have no personal use for this but I was told such small things are of great value to the underworld.” She pulled out the last item she’d swiped from the merchant shop and held up the drug injector as if it somehow offended her.

Martus paused and arched an eyebrow, studying the object with a low whistle. “Where did you get that?”

“A friend’s donation to the cause.” She answered, then intentionally closed her mouth quickly and winced as if she had let something slip.

“Ah… Initiate Kendra is it?” He asked with a cunning smile, reaching out to take the small metal injector.

“Definitor Kendra.” She snapped, pulling the object back against her chest. “Don’t think to insult me so easily!”

“You Technolytes are all the same.” He folded his hands behind his back with a faint shake of his head. “You’ve got something decent to trade, so what is it you want, Definitor?”

“Information.” Liquid answered in a sulking growl, playing up the part of the offended religious zealot.

Martus gave an indulgent smile. “That doesn’t help me, little lady, if I don’t know what it is you are trying to learn.”

She glared at him a long moment before sighing softly, letting her shoulders slump. “The Exarch doesn’t know I left. M-my brother’s gone missing and I know we’re not supposed to care about our secular ties but – he’s the only flesh and blood I’ve got left!”

He gave a soft chuckle and pulled out a thin metallic box. Inside were several long thing cigarettes, which he examined for a minute before choosing one and closing the box. “My heart bleeds for you.” He said, not quite sarcastically, as he produced a lighter and lit the cigarette. He took a long drag before continuing. “But that doesn’t help me.”

Liquid seemed to gather herself, taking a deep breathe before reciting as if from memory. “He was last seen taking a bounty on one Aki Sakura who was last seen in the Katen biodome approximately 8 standard galactic years ago.”

Martus laughed again, almost choking on the smoke from his cigarette. “Oh, Aki, Aki, Aki, still causing trouble after all these years.”

“You know her?” Liquid didn’t have to fake her curiosity.

“Yeah.” Martus turned and began pacing, waving the cigarette in his hand as he made his point. “We used to be coworkers before she got too fancy for the rest of us and accepted some Emidarian Imperial contract. She did research for them for a handful of years before what she found out scared her out of her poor little mind and she fled. Every now and then some Imperial lackey gets it in their head to try to call in the price on her head.”

“I don’t care about her.” Liquid lied flatly. “But my brother may have gotten killed trying to find her and I want to know!”

“I don’t know where she went.” Martus answered with another thin smile. “But you’ve provided me my afternoon’s amusement so I’ll help you on your little quest.”

“Wha-!” Liquid started an indignant protest but he waved her silent with one hand.

“Don’t argue.” He leaned over a desk and pulled out an old fashion pad of paper and actual ink pen. He scribbled on it for a few minutes before tearing it off theatrically and offering it to her. “On here are two names. One’s an information broker who used to work with Aki and I. He’s kept tabs on her I’m sure and will give you what you need to know providing you update his information on your return. The second name’s a junky middleman who can trade you that little trinket of yours for what I suspect you’ll need most, a way off this rotting circuit hub.”

“I- …” Liquid accepted the piece of paper, clutching to her head and turning her head as if thanking the man was too much for her pride to bear. “I will ask the Exarch to speak a blessing on your name upon my return.”

Martus just laughed and sat on the corner of his desk, smoking his cigarette. “You do that. The maid will show you the way out. Good luck, kid.”

[Liquid Ice]

39:30 Emidar Standard Time
Den of Requite, City of Grand Designs Biodome, Planet Katen

---

Liquid had forgotten how much the inside of that mask smelled. Still, the maid had been nice enough to make at least a token effort to clean and press her cloak. True, it would be filthy again in a matter of hours, but it was still nice to feel clean warm cloth against her skin for once. After the relatively hospitable environment inside Lendry’s ‘villa’, being back out on the island felt more oppressive than ever. Liquid had never been too fond of crowds of people, but the skittery nature the citizens here was beginning to set her nerves on edge. Dozens of eyes followed her from the shadows and it was hard not to turn her head to investigate every shadow the flittered across the corner of her vision. She was being followed, by several people unless she missed her guess, but they weren’t specifically stalking her. It seemed this was simply the kind of place where the less fortunate shadowed those in better standing and waited for crimes of opportunity to present themselves. It was very unnerving. She would much have preferred to have been one of the faceless shadows the hovered in the background but she’d already established herself as someone with something to trade. Stepping into the shadows now would be to invite death.

The information broker did not have a house per se. It was little more than a piece of well worn canvas stretched out over two poles on the edge of a much larger establishment. The front was delineated from the sides because there were some kind of followed out shells or beads draped down ropes on the sides, while the front had an old bent door resting on two pieces of fractured discrete the roughly resembled a counter. The broker himself was a thin, balding man with small spiral horns and a distended stomach. He looked to be some kind of hobgoblin from a child’s fairytale, though he was probably just an erstwhile denizen from a planet the Empire had never catalogued. Still, it did give Liquid the unnerving sensation she was making a deal with the devils.

The broker was going through a box of what appeared to be information crystals and looked up long before Liquid had reached the counter. His hearing was sharper than she had given him credit for, despite his lack of obvious ears.

“What do you want?!” He demanded in a shrill voice.

“You deal in information?” Liquid asked, keeping her hood up and cloak closed, appearing little more than a specter herself.

“Depends.” The goblin hedged.

“Lendry sent me.” Liquid answered gruffly.

“Ah, then yes.” The turned away from the box and hobbled over to the counter. She had thought the man was sitting down but she realized he was actually less than three foot tall and had a pronounced limp. There had to be more to him than met the eye if he was still alive.

“Aki Sakura.” She threw the last of her four Imperial credit chits on the counter. The amount was laughable, but it wasn’t payment. The little goblin’s eyes light up eagerly at the sight. The script was a simply a sign that she was aiming on collecting the bounty, and could be taken to mean she might share said bounty if he helped her catch the scientist. Liquid didn’t really care what his scheming little mind made of the gesture; simply that he had accepted it. He began a mad little dance and hopped about his small living space before returning to his box and digging in with gusto, pulling out several crystals and tossing them aside carelessly before finding the one he wanted. He offered it to her, but Liquid hesitated a long moment before accepting it. It was one of the kinds that had a small speaker attached to the side and a few tiny operating buttons. She pressed the one marked with a forward arrow.

“Tradespeak for Dummies. Lesson One, Tradespeak in Action-” Liquid thumbed it off and pocketed it without a word.

“Althanas, yes!” The small figure cackled, pulling a thumb-sized crystal from his ragged remains of clothing and hitting the only button on it. A small interstellar map flared to life, one small planet pulsing near the outskirts. “She went to ground on Althanas!”

Liquid accepted this second crystal and tilted her head downward in acknowledgement. “Thank you.”

The little imp was still dancing about madly when the hunter turned to leave. She had found a name, a map and a language to learn. Now she needed that ship. Pulling out the paper Lendry had given her, she reread his instructions on the second name. This… was going to be tricky.

[Liquid Ice]

40:15 Emidar Standard Time
Circle of Specters, Den of Requite, City of Grand Designs Biodome, Planet Katen

---

“My guards tell me you want to see me.” At the farthest end of the island den, one of the drainage canals had completely blocked up and some erstwhile entrepreneur had decided it would be the prefect place to arrange pit fighting. A handful of barely clad, hulking figure slogged about in a vicious free-for-all in the knee deep sludge. Seats had been set up around it in a rough circle that had earned the arena its name. A fairly successful drug lord’s lackey who went by the name of ‘Blood Fox’ had manage to acquire seats closest to the edge inside a fairly nice cordoned off area that actually had padded seats. He was brazenly shirtless and didn’t seem bothered by the slime the covered his heavily tattooed shoulders and torso. His hair was shirt and a thick, dark black. He wore a full mask with faintly glowing goggles that suggested some kind of enhanced vision equipment. He didn’t look away from the match, however, and remained leaned forward in his seat. His elbows were propped on his knees and he clasped a cylinder in his hands, but Liquid couldn’t quite make out what it was.

“I-” Was all that Liquid manage to get out before he silenced her with an impatient wave of his hand.

“Who gave you my name?” He demanded; attention still on the match.

“That’s not important, I’m here - ngh.” This time it was the back of a guard’s hand across the side of her face that silenced her.

“Who. Gave you. My name.” Fox repeated, slowly enunciating each word.

“Lendry.” Liquid finally admitted grudging.

“I see I am going to have to have a talk with Mister Lendry.” Fox finally at back and turned to look at Liquid, the light behind the goggles flickering a few times as he adjusted whatever readout was displayed on the inside. “Why are you bothering me?”

“Lendry said you could hook me up.” Liquid replied, shrugging off the guard’s grip on her arm and glaring at the man through her own goggles before producing the map from her belt. “I need to go here.”

“Why the fuck would you go there?” Fox asked bluntly. “That’s some backass planet that doesn’t even have an official starport.”

“Exactly.” Liquid thumbed the map projection off and put the map away.

“Ah, I get it.” The laughter behind the mask was muffled. “So who’s after you, kid? Imperials? Compatriots? Angry housewife?”

“My name’s on the wrong list.” Liquid answer obliquely. “That’s all you need to know.”

“You still haven’t told me why I should be helping you.” Fox sat back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. Even though his face was covered by the breathing mask, the tilt of his head still manage to convey his ‘impress me’ attitude quite well.

Liquid spared one more glare for the manhandling guards and reached inside her belt pouch to produce the drug injector. Fox extended a waiting hand. Liquid hesitated, then sighed softly and dropped the small device into his palm. He moved a few of the parts, testing its function and making sure it was genuine. After a long moment he nodded his approval.

“Real deal. Useful. Not too hard to offload. You’ve got yourself a ride out of here.” Fox handed the injector over his shoulder to a minion who seemed to magically appear to take it. “That’s just the hook-up fee, though. You want passage, you’ll have to work.”

“I’m not afraid of a little crew duty.” Liquid answered, crossing her arms. “I’ve done legit shipper work before.”

“Then you’re golden, kid.” Fox snapped his fingers and turned back to the match, goggle lights flickering once more as he readjusted them. “Take this spunky little fugitive to the lift pad and get her on the Radical Dream. They should be short a crewer and heading that general direction. Tell them she’s my rec’ and they’ll let her aboard.”

[Liquid Ice]

41:00 Emidar Standard Time
A lift pad somewhere outside City of Grand Designs Biodome, Planet Katen

---

“Fox wants me to do what, now?” The captain of the Radical Dream was a grizzled vet in a mechanic’s navy coveralls. He was apparently addicted to some kind of chewing weed, a habit which forced he to stop talking and spit frequently. His hair was a lankly pale brown, his face was withered and ingrained with engine oil and his eyes were a murky brown that showed he had a little too much fondness for narcotics. His name was Breaton Vergo.

“Look, you want to be the one to go tell Fox you think he’s full of shit?” The guard was obviously bored with the conversation already. He placed a hand on Liquid back and shoved her forward. “Take this trash off my hand so I can go back inside, kay?”

The lift pad was nothing more than a giant slab of discrete that was gouged and scarred from years of ships landing on a surface not designed for it. The Radical Dream was a giant box with an engine pod on the back and a cockpit fused on the top. There was no actual ramp into the cargo hold and a makeshift ramp had been propped up against the doorway to allow the crates to be wheeled inside. It was painted a typical starship grey and they hadn’t even bothered to paint the name on the side. Two other crewers were loitering about, waiting for cargo to be loaded. On was wearing a fairly clean button down silk shirt and tailored woolen breeches. A blazer pistol was holstered low on his right thigh and his hand kept drifting towards it as if he expected someone to leap out and challenge him to a draw. He wasn’t bad looking, with shining red hair pulled back into a loose ponytail and alert blue eyes, but there was an arrogant set to his face that Liquid didn’t much like. The other man wore no shirt, a ratted old coat and a pair of too-tight trousers. He was completely bald but had a braided beard that reached almost to his waist. He didn’t look very alert, or alive for that matter.

“I already have two crewers! The Dream can work just fine with three, I don’t need another deadbeat splitting my profits!” The captain’s face was starting to turn red as he shouted at the still bored looking guard.

“Look, you ain’t gotta pay the kid.” The guard clarified. “Just take her as far as she needs to go and drop her off. She needs a ride, is all.”

“Well she better pull her weight.” The captain admitted grudgingly. “Now get out of here, you’re making my boys nervous.”

“With pleasure.” The guard replaced his mask and turned on his heel, disappearing back into the lift that led back underground.

“Kivan, Drosh, get over here.” Captain Vergo waved his crewers over. “This is- what did you say your name was, kid?”

“Trist.” Liquid answered, pulling off her own mask and goggles and taking a deep breath of the thin, dry air of the surface world. “Just Trist.”

“Well, Just Trist. “ The captain replied with a snide look. “The pretty boy there is Kivan, our mechanic and Drosh is the navigator. Since you’re the fresh meat on this run, you get to cook and clean like any good woman should.”

Liquid bit back an angry response and just crossed her arms. “Whatever, mate. I’m just along for the ride.”

//

The crew quarters about the Dreamer were cramped and Liquid got to spend little enough time there. Since she was actually expected to pull her weight as the lowest ranking member of the crew, she was given every single shit job the other three could think of for her to do. Somehow, it almost always ended up involving her scrubbing some part of the ship that hadn’t seen the scrubbing end of a cleaning device in what appeared to be centuries. But Liquid had been truthful about one thing, she was no stranger to hard work. No matter what chores they could think of to subject her too, she always managed to find time at the end of the day to curl up with the speaker crystal the little goblin man had given her.

“Tradespeak for Dummies, Lesson Twelve – Tradespeak in the Marketplace…”

[Liquid Ice]

Approximately two weeks later
04:00 Emidar Standard Time
Crew quarters, Radical Dream

---

“Tradespeak for Dummies, Lesson Thirty-Two – Common Elvish names…”

“Why do you bother with that little shit language?” Kivan asked from the bunk above Liquid’s own.

“Because that’s what they speak where I’m going.” Liquid relied honestly, thumbing the pause on the audio crystal.

“Yeah well I hope you’re almost done with that book.” Kivan replied as he rolled off the bunk and landed on the deck in front of her. “Drosh says we’ll be within range soon.”

“Range?” Liquid repeated a little uneasily. That didn’t sound right for some reason she couldn’t put her finger on.

“Yeah.” Kivan straightened and opened the tiny locker in the corner of the snug room to pull out his tool case. “You didn’t really think that captain was going to bother landing on that shit planet do you? We’re just going to throw you in a lifepod and send you jetting that direction.”

“That’s not very nice.” Liquid replied, hoping she sounded bored and uncaring.

“Yeah well, we were doing you a favor bringing you along this far, you little snot.”

Liquid did not reply but rose smoothly from her bunk, curling her right hand into a fist and tapping a small sensor in her palm with her middle finger. Silently, a small panel on her right gauntlet, only slightly smaller than the back of her hand, rose to a precise twenty degree angle. The two small slits of the blade emitters rotated from their dormant horizontal angle the active vertical alignment. Kivan didn’t take her seriously when her left hand reached up to grab a handful of his red hair, holding his head still.

“What game are you playing at, kid?” He asked, continuing to check his bag to make sure he had all the gear he needed. “I don’t go for the androgynous type, you know, even if you do wanna go all dominatrix on me. I like my girls with curves!”

“I’m sorry, I don't like killing but it has to be done.” It was hard to tell if it was her soft sincere words and the cold touch of the blade emitters against the back of his neck that actually got his attention, but it didn’t really matter. By the time he realized he was in danger, she had tapped the second sensor with her index finger that brought the blades to life. Even on their lowest power setting, the blades carved a path through his skull as they extended. Unfortunately that power setting wasn’t high enough to cauterize the wounds as they passed. Liquid shoved Kivan’s head into the locker to contain the blood spatter as the tips of the twin claws emerged just below his eyes. He only managed to emit a wordless gurgle as his body jerked in its death throes. Liquid held the body against the locker until it finally stopped twitching, then tapped the sensor a second time to retract the claws. Reaching inside his mechanic’s bag, she pulled out the rag he used to wipe his hands on it and wrapped it around his head to contain the blood just long enough to roll his carcass onto the lower bunk. It wouldn’t fool anyone on a closer look, but if someone just happened to open the door there wouldn’t be a corpse lying in a pool of blood. Slamming the locker closed, she left the room. As the door closed silently behind her, she didn’t notice the thin dribble of blood that leaked from the crooked locker door.

As misfortune would have it, both Captain Vergo and the other crewer were in the cockpit together. Which ended her preferred plan of picking them off one by one without a fight. Still, she did have the upper hand. They had no idea who she was or what kind of training she had. Reaching inside her belt pack, she pulled out her small utility knife and brought it to life, extending it as far as it would go. Balancing the hilt carefully between her fingers, she cocked her arm back and threw the knife. It didn’t hit Drost anywhere incapacitating, as she’d hoped, but it did slide blade first all the way through his right hand, pinning it to the control panel.

“Holy SHIT!”

Oddly enough it was Vergo that noticed the blade first. While Drost was busy trying to pry the weapon from the console, and his hand, the captain unfastened his crash restraints and swung out of his chair. Spitting curses and threats, mostly against Blood Fox, he stormed out of the cockpit. Liquid was crouched waiting just inside the hatch, waiting until the last second to activate her energy blades lest the faint hum gave her away. As the taller man strode past her she lashed out with a swipe of the claws, severing the hamstring of his left leg. As he tumbled to the ground, she sprinted from her runner’s crouch into the cockpit. As she entered she tapped the sensor on her left hand with her thumb. The square plate on the back of her left gauntlet rose directly up before extending four thin emitter rods. It took a few seconds for the circle of energy to complete, but by the time she made it to the navigator’s chair, it had materialized to catch the awkward left-handed punch Drost threw at her. Though because of the low power setting, all it did to his knuckles was bruise them lightly. However, still strapped into his crash restraints with his right hand pinned down, there wasn’t much else he could do. A downward stab of her claws into the meat of his left forearm rendered that arm useless as well. Panic giving him strength, and a certain numbness to the pain, he ripped his right hand directly up along the blade of the knife and freed it. Unfortunately the muscles that controlled both his hands were shredded so all he could do is splatter blood all over the cockpit and his attacker as he slapped his useless hands against her head. Knowing her time was limited, and that she still had the captain to take care of, she thrust her claws all the way to the emitters in his throat, piercing both it and the chair behind him. He flailed and blood bubbled from his lips but he didn’t die just yet - she'd missed his spinal column. Giving a sound of frustration, Liquid rotated the claws in his neck, feeling the resistance of chair and bone. She managed to carve most of the way through the spinal cord before the power demands on the energy claw exceeded their maximum levels for that power output and sputtered into silence. It wasn’t pretty or efficient but the faint spark of life, such as it had been, in Drost’s eyes began to fade as Liquid tapped the power sensor on her palm to reactivate her weapon.

"... you ... fucking ... BITCH!" The captain’s almost primal snarl of rage was the only warning Liquid received before the full weight of the man slammed into her, pinning her sideways against the control panel and bringing his hands up to encircle her throat. “You tell that fucking punk Blood Fox that if he wants me dead he can come and do it his own damned self! I was a damned fine pilot for him, and this is how he repays me!? Sending a fucking assassin!?”

“Blood Fox didn’t send me.” Liquid snarled, trying to pry her right arm free where it had wedged between her and the console.

“Then who did!?” The captain shouted at her. “I’ve been free for twenty-seven years, TWENTY-SEVEN. I DEMAND do know who it was that finally tracked me down!”

“I don’t know who you are, old man.” Liquid choked out, swallowing hard against the pressure of his fingers crushing her windpipe. “And I don’t really care. They’ll be coming after me soon and no one must know where I’ve gone.”

His face twisted into an angry snarl as his fingers tightened around her throat. Liquid saw black spots dance around the corner of her vision. Growling out her own anger and frustration, she closed her left hand into a fist. The shield emitter automatically slid into place over the top of her fingers as she slammed the edge of the circular shield hard against the top of his right knee. With his left leg damaged, his right was carrying is full weight and the pinpoint blow of the shield edge made his right knee jerk and buckle. Vergo didn’t release her neck fast enough to catch himself and fell hard onto his back, pulling Liquid down on top of him. As she fell, she brought her claws down, hoping to impale his face, but his moment knocked her off balance and the blades dug several inches into the deck plating before shutting off with an angry crackle. Impatiently tapping the sensor once more to reignite the claws, she drew her hand black for a final blow. Vergo reached out to grab her wrist but a quick blow from her left elbow into his windpipe stunned him long enough for her to pull her hand free.

“Well you get to hell; tell Blood Fox that Kharis Delvo sent you.” She took no chances and this time the blades struck unerringly, sliding into his chest. There was resistance as they sliced through the bone, but with her entire upper body behind the blow she was able to bury the claws all the way through his body until her knuckles rested against his sternum, piercing his heart and killing the man instantly. She was ashamed to admit that she was breathing hard as she shut down both claws and shield. She brought her left hand up to massage her throat as she simply knelt over the body of the dead captain while she regained her composure.

It didn’t take long for her professional composure to return, however, and she rose to retrieve her utility knife before sliding into the now unoccupied captain’s chair. She wasn’t surprise to find the outdated cargo ship wasn’t equipped to self destruct, but it was an easy matter to set the engines to overload. By her calculations it would take almost half an hour for the reactors to reach a critical stage, so she allowed herself the luxury of a shower, grateful that she wouldn’t have to make the trip in a lifepod coated in blood. After cleaning up, she scrounged around the ship for food for the trip and anything else she might find useful. Most of it wasn’t worth the weight, but she did take a change of Kivan’s clothing. The white silk shirt was far too bit and the woolen pants were almost comically baggy, but combined with the tattered woolen cloak, she did look somewhat less like a tracker from a technological world.

Settling herself into the lifepod, she programmed the coordinates into the navcomputer and launched the smaller craft away from the ship. It would take another five or so minutes before the Dream exploded, plenty of time to get out of the blast radius. Pulling her cloak tighter around her, she closed her eyes and thumbed the pause button on the speaker crystal, resuming the lesson where Kivan had so rudely interrupted her.

“Although most Elvish nations have their own languages, it is not uncommon to find Elvish names in Tradespeak…”

[Liquid Ice]

Approximately three days later
37:00 Emidar Standard Time
Neverscale Beach, Scara Brae, Althanas

---

The several day journey to Althanas was unpleasant in the cramped quarters of the life pod but the journey was thankfully uneventful. Her greatest worry, the atmospheric entry, was equally smooth. She’d discovered a little late that the tiny pod had no atmospheric maneuvering jets. This proved to be a bit of a problem as she found herself heading for one of the planet’s many large oceans. She would have wished for a better drop zone but there was nothing to do but ride it out. Thankfully the air pocket inside the pod kept it from sinking before she could blow the hatch. Thankful she hadn’t brought any of the junk from the ship, she buttoned on Kivan’s shirt and cinched the woolen breeches on with her utility belt and dived into the water.

--

Six hours later a rather ratty, soaked, sunburned figured washed ashore on Neverscale Beach. As luck would have it, a young adventurer was in the area testing his sword against the Neverscale crawlers. Not expecting to find a humanoid among the creatures washed ashore on the harsh beach, he approached the girl with caution. The sound of his boot falls in the sand woke Liquid from her stupor and she rolled over onto her stomach, raising herself to her elbows and coughing up the water and sand in her mouth. The adventurer stepped back and raised his sword.

“Friend or foe, state your business, Elf!” He called, voice trembling slightly as he couldn’t quite hold the bravado he’d begun with.

“Elf?” Liquid echoed groggily, trying to blink the salty brine out of her eyes. The saltwater had wrecked havoc on her contacts and she really needed to take them out and rinse them, they stung like all hells.

“You’ve Elven ears.” The young man pointed out, his sword wavering in his grip. “You’ve Elven stature, you’ve an Elven countenance. Are you an Elf or aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Liquid forced herself to her feet, wobbling there for a few minutes as her exhausted muscles adjusted to the upright position and feel of solid ground under her feet again. “I am an Elf... you can all me, um… Nienna, Nienna Ar'fiel.”

Her legs failed her and she collapse to her knees in exhausted. The young would-be hero rushed to her side and knelt beside her. “What happed, fair maiden? How did you find yourself washed ashore here?”

“My ship was attacked by uh, pirates…” It was a struggle to piece the words together but those lessons were paying off. Hopefully he’d just think her accent was Elven too. “Think I’m the only survivor. If you could just… just help me into town…”

“Of course, fair lady.” He slid an arm under her shoulder and helped her to her feet. It was a bit comical as she was noticeably taller than her but he was a steady lad and was able to support her into town. He wouldn’t notice that the gold pouch from his belt was missing until nearly a full day later and blamed it on thieves in the city. It was, however, very educational to Liquid, introducing her to the concept of “gold”.

I think this is how this goes.

Requested Spoils:

Elven Disguise: No magical properties.
One wool cloak. It’s tattered, heavy, bulky and smells funky.
One white button down silk shirt. It’s too big and cut for a male.
One pair of black woolen breeches. They’re baggy and require a belt to stay up.

Revealed Character Traits:
Mythomania: Liquid has proven herself to be a compulsive, if not pathological liar. The only time she feels compelled to tell the truth is right before a person’s death.

NOT Requested:
The gold: What she stole from the adventurer is her starter gold, because I’m anal about all things IC come from IC places.
Memory Crystals: Both the Tradespeak for Dummies and Althanas Startchart crystals did not survive the swim and were destroyed by extended exposure to salt water.

[Skie and Avery]

Quest Judging
Drop Zone

STORY

Continuity ~ 6/10. Good in everything except for explaining her origins. I understood that she was on the run from something, but I’m not sure what. Something went wrong with a run? Your should keep in mind that a reader who is coming into the story new on a thread, shouldn’t HAVE to read past threads or the profile to understand what is going on. If your story is good and they go back to read the whole thing, that’s one thing, but you should always make sure that any thread can stand alone and be understood, not just be an extension from the last thread or the profile. Movies suffer from it too, which is why sequels are nearly never as great as the first one.
Setting ~ 7/10. Very good, but here and again you had the tendency to drop the rich descriptions and go with just telling what happened. I think this most blatantly worked against you at the very end of the last post.
Pacing ~ 9/10. Almost perfect. In your last post, at the very end there, you got in a hurry to end it, and it ended up suffering a little.

CHARACTER

Dialogue ~ 9/10. The lies, the way you brought some of the characters to life with just dialogue alone is really great. I especially liked the conversation with the merchant at the beginning and the snippets of Tradespeak For Dummies that you gave.
Action ~ 8/10.
Persona ~ 7/10. It actually works in Liquid’s Nature to be so mysterious to the reader, because she is a liar. Sometimes, though, I would have liked to see more internally than what you gave me. While it’s great for your character to be a little unpredictable, there’s such a thing as too much. If your readers don’t have a way to connect with her some way, whether or not they like her for it, they won’t be as interested in her story and won’t come back for more.
WRITING STYLE

Technique ~ 7/10. In and of itself, it‘s decent. You’re a great writer, but you tend to sometimes “slack” away from the colorful - and sometimes humorous - scenes you paint. There were a couple of times where your reading would go from engaging to almost like a grocery store list of actions.
Mechanics ~ 7/10. You know how to write a good sentence, but it’s the little mistakes that mess you up. There were a lot of them in there, and they are some of the most distracting things to reading there can be. Most of your mistakes were just adding or leaving off letters that still spell other words. Mistakes that spellcheck won’t catch are a pain in the ass and the only way to catch them is proofreading over and over and over again. Such as “pot marked” for “pockmarked” when describing someone’s skin, or “drifted” instead of “drifter”. In one post you put “moment” when I believe you meant “momentum.” Like I said, these are sometimes the hardest things to catch, because in your head, you know what word should go there and your eyes just skim over it, replacing it with what should be there. The best advice I can give is after writing a post, either submit or leave it on your screen, get up, walk around the room. Look out a window, or just anything other than a screen, come back to your post and read over it so you can edit.
Clarity ~ 8/10. There wasn’t much that confused me, and most of it was owed to simple mistakes that I went over in mechanics. Understanding dawned after going back over the sentence, so I didn’t take much off here.

MISCELLANEOUS

Wild Card ~ 8/10. It’s not uncommon to see a solo like this, explaining origins and such. Bridging the gap between a profile and a start on Althanas is a good first chapter in any storyline, and you wrote this so well. The little humorous touches were great, and I can tell that your story is going to be an exceptionally enjoyable one to read on Althanas. Welcome to a planet that doesn’t rain snot.

TOTAL ~ 76/100.

Rewards

Liquid Ice earns 781 EXP and 152 GP

*For story reasons, consider the 100 gold she’d pick pocketed the boy for her starting amount to have been miscounted. Due to her novice with the concept of gold, she shortchanged herself. Really, she took 252 off the lad.

[Karuka]

EXP/GP added!