[Shrike Abyssal] Zanzibar Run

"It is perhaps the most unpleasant of all realities, sometimes peace must be built upon violence. Sometimes the presence of one sword keeps another sheathed."
-General Daiganseion Koizumix; Recollections of a Rebellion.

"Peace is relative."
-Warlord Vasrk Kal; attr.

There are a thousand, thousand, settled worlds in the known galaxy; stretching across the vast empty expanse of the void like a great glittering necklace. A chest of gems casually scattered by greater hands. Worlds millions, billions, strong burning brightly in the endless black. From the Rim to the Core, axises x,y, and z. A scale beyond comprehension, beyond true appreciation.

Entire nations could vanish in that titanic ocean. Entire civilizations could slip beneath the waves, their lights snuffed out, swallowed up by the sheer weight of the water around them. Stratagems and intrigue that entangled countless sapients in their cords were but a brisk sea wind. Wars that saw planets charred cinders, mountains of dead, but an undercurrent.

Anything could happen out here, out there, and at the end of it the people of the Citadel, of Omega, of the homeworlds and tradeworlds and throneworlds would get up and go about their days as if nothing was different, as if nothing had changed.

Anything.

The late morning sun shone on golden desert sands and the verdant canopy of thick, lush jungle. The nightly mist had long since departed in the light of day, revealing the city that sat at the mouth of the river: where the tangling forest, enormous, cresting dunes, and deep blue sea met. And a city it was, a proper city even. Towering arcologies, their sheer sides coated with banks of silvery solar panels. The hublike city within a city that was the continental spaceport. Hundreds of neat, clean edged buildings scattered between, a serpentine mass of streets and winding avenues bridging the districts.

A motorcade made it's away along the sea road, a gleaming black rover draped in ablative plate in the center. Armored personnel carries and IFVs in front and behind, thirteen crossed blades etched on their hulls; white on grey and blue. Within the limousine a prime minister and his bodyguard were discussing war and peace, the function of mercenaries and the future of this nation.

Gloved hands slotted the pieces together. Fabricators aligning, ratcheting together. Casing sealed. Dark, angular metal. Factors quantified. Again and again.

The motorcade passed a street market, exotic fruits, meats, candies, vegetables on sale. The air filled with the sizzling of fat on the grill, the savory smell of stew. Cold drinks.

"-re a valuable target Mr. Prime Minister. What you represent even moreso. Our job is to protect that, nothing more nothing less."

"Oh come now Mr. Okazaki, you have done much more than that here. Why, one might so so far as to say tha-"

The interior of the truck was dark, the hatches softly sealed to keep some of the cool air in and the sand out. Spacious, just another transport carrier, there was nothing inside but them. Just them.

"So boys and girls" Soft musical tones of Varazalian. Lightly scuffed plates broken up by a thin, discolored scar that stretched from fringe to mandible across the eye.

A smile that managed to be at once profoundly sleazy and yet disconcertingly charming; much to the confusion of everyone's personal standards and sexuality.

"I'm guessing that...this is your first coup?"

"Nrgh. Fucking hate these things..."

Believe it or not, adding artificial extensions to your nervous system isn't orgasmically pleasurable. It hurts. A lot. Like someone pinching your spine as hard as they can. She knew she should keep them in more, to get used to them, but she always put it off and wound up in this situation - hissing in pain as her armour connected with the nerve-jacks in her spine. She flexed her gauntleted hands, cricking her neck left to right. The action exposed a little of what the armour hid, places where her skin was thin enough to see darker synthetic weaves replacing the meat of a human body. Nothing new, though. Nobody there could be strictly called 'purely organic'.

Kate leaned against the side of the APC, returning the scarred turian's smile with a smirk of her own, her right eyebrow arched over the softly luminescent green replacement.

"No, actually. I destabilize governments wherever I go. It's a hobby. And who're you supposed to be?"

The krogan leaned off the side of the APC, taking a step forward on to the dark metal floor. His visor shifted, pressing inwards and folding backwards in hexagonal pieces, shrinking into a brace of metal that lined his jawbone. "First with the company. You don't survive a couple centuries on Tuchanka without seeing a couple hundred political uprisings."

Gok reached for the Holda leaning on the interior of the vehicle, holding it in both hands and checking it with ice blue synthetic eyes. He rolled his shoulder with the weapon, feeling synthetic weaves pulling and stretching under his hide.

"Of course, we have a few new tricks for this one, so it won't be boring, I'd imagine."

Lanning didn't say anything. He just sat there, drumming his fingers on the drone in his lap. The gasmask he was wearing didn't betray any reaction to the question, to what the man beneath the tinted lenses was feeling.

Which was, at this point in time, rather overwhelming panic.

Coup? Coup? What was I thinking!? What the hell have I gotten myself into this time? I shouldn't have signed that goddamn contract, I shouldn't have...

He reached up to rub the back of his neck, where the neural implants still tingled a bit.

...Keep calm. It'll be fine. You've been in nastier places before, right? It'll be cake.

Another drum of the fingers, in a specific pattern this time. The small black orb in the center of his torso armor detached and floated over his shoulder. Modules extended and retracted, whirring as they did so. The one in his lap remained silent.

Just don't say anything. Don't show fear. Don't panic.

Oh that got a laugh out of him, a lilting cadence from the Trade Republic laden with just enough of an undercurrent, just enough bite that it was somewhat hard to tell if he was laughing with Kate, at Kate, or, fuck it, laugh at everything because why not? Why not laugh? So far they were all having a good time weren't they? Well with the exception of Lanning but he'd come around (or not, no skin off his back there).

And there was more to look forward to! So much more! Agility. Strength. Skill. A duel, cultured, formal, but oh so savage beneath. But, hey, all's fair in love and war isn't it? And that's the key to any good relationship really. Passion and parity. Give and take.

The swordsman steps, stance shifting, blade at the ready; a city away his foe moved in counterpoint.

In the back of modified truck the turian didn't so much lean back as lounge, didn't so much stretch out as sprawl; a lean, contented tiger, basking in the sun.

"I'll be the one heading up today's lovely little show. You may call me Sir. Specialist Resureclascion...Or Samitael if you're feeling bold. But callsign South should work just fine."

The carrier struck a bump in the road, the floor heaved up. He kept talking as if nothing had happened, still reclining languidly across the bench. The very picture of relaxation.

A gauntlet held aloft, talons splayed, a bit of animation in its own small way. "Heh, boring? Us? Never. Big boss upstairs has a Crusader coming in offshore plus some of strong and silent's shady friends. Oh no this promises to be quite the party. But the real fun doesn't start till we deal with the dear Prime Minister Malokotela."

"Sammy it is."

Another benefit to being a TIER ONE OPERATOR OPERATING OPERATIONALLY - more leeway to be an asshole to everyone. Still, she chuckled along with the turian, clearly not actually in the mood to give the guy shit for no reason. She returned to her position against the side of the APC, crossing her arms tightly as she tried to practice with the tendrils in her armour. The display would have been pathetic to a veteran Shade, but she wasn't that worried. If things went well, she wouldn't really need them.

"A Crusader?" she repeated, looking back at Samitael. "Fuck yes. I've been waiting forever to see one of those in action properly. Save me a seat?"

"A Crusader, eh? That'll be a sight. But you're right. I'd like to meet this Prime Minister. He seems like a capable enough opponent." A pause before he continues. "Do we have any info on his security detail?" He replaces the shotgun on the side of the APC, resting against one of his legs.

The krogan looks over to the human girl. "Hey. Parker was it? You're new with the Shades right?" It was an easy enough assetion to make, what with her novice capability with the Kraken armor. "I've heard a couple of rumors about you. Any of them true?"

"They aren't...'s not like that."

Lanning clenched his fist. The drone's gun extended. Unclenched, and it retracted. Clench, unclench. Extend, retract.

He sighed behind his mask. Outside it, too, since he hadn't figured out how to mute the damn thing. Learning how to deal with gesture control without accidentally shooting something had taken up a bit more of his time than he'd care to admit. Speaking of practice...

He glanced between krogan and "Parker", equal parts interest and anxiety. "Rumors?"

"Pff. Seriously?"

Kate laced her fingers together and leaned back. She seemed to be getting used to her Kraken armour again, as the tendrils curled around and helped support her back as she rested against the side of the APC. "Yeah, I'm new to the Shades. I've been with the corp since I was 18, but I only finished the Shade training course a little while ago."

She cocked her head and smirked. "Well, depends what these 'rumours' are. Are they about how fantastic I am in bed? That time I beat a krogan at arm-wrestling?"

...Sammy?

"Hah! Oh I like that, Sammy then."

A fanged grin, mandibles spread wide baring the underlying sinews and joints in their thin sheathes of skin. I mean really, who can you laugh at if not yourself? And, frankly, the name in that voice, that alien pronunciation filtered through the almost musical accent was nothing short of a warm, gentle massage for the ears. Massage, maybe some fine wine, a dinner under the stars and-

what?

It was a very nice voice.

While he waited for the Umbra to figure out his comm system (Tsk tsk where does all the training go under stress? Come now you can do better than that can't you? Relax, enjoy your work a bit) Samitael took to fielding questions.

"Oh I wouldn't worry about that, it's your heavy support while I'm off...distracting the PM's detail. Speaking of which."

Boom dossiers, hard light constructs unfolding in mid air from one lazily upheld omnitool.

"Malokotela and Alokbah," a human, nut brown skin and snow white hair, his face creased with worry and laugh lines in equal measure standing side by side with an aging batarian in a suit, "aren't much in the way of fighters. Diplomacy's more their speed, but never fear there's a challenge for you all yet,"

One datapane glowed softly, outlined in gold. Another human, also male. His skin pale, almost unnaturally so; his hair so white it was almost blinding.

"Specialist Okazaki, field asset of the Thirteen Blades and Malokotela's personal guard. Thirteen's helped shore up his office for the past, oh, two years or so and Okazaki's kept him in one piece throuuuuugh"

A pause

"Six assassination attempts, two attempted kidnappings, a failed invasion by one of the old warlords, aaaand one other coup staged by the Minister of Intelligence. Not quite a full augjob, he's got enough fleshy bits to be a natural Vanguard.

Deal with him however you'd like."

"Excellent. Fair warning though - call me Katie and I slit your throat," Kate replied in an incongruously upbeat tone. As far as the dossiers went, Maolokotela and Alokbah only got a cursory glance, though she doubted she'd be called upon to ID them in the heat of the moment. No, it was the personal guard that caught her attention. She flicked a finger, almost lazily, and the gold-rimmed window divided like a cell to leave a copy hovering in front of her.

"Okazaki," she repeated, reading what information there was despite Samitael giving her the abridged version. "Might have to bring him in for fashion alone - a white dye job does not go with skin that pale."

The laundry list of prior engagements the man had been integral in mostly went in one ear and out the other, but the last part was something that stuck. A grin spread quickly across the young Shade's face, and she dismissed the holo-panel with a chuckle. Her hand still raised, she turned it palm-up and clenched it into a fist. Her aura flared around it, the blue glow dancing across the insides of the APC for ten seconds before dissipating.

"You're in for a treat, girls. You get to see some zoom-tag."

"Yeah, the second one. I mean, augs and all that make it plausible, but did you really beat a krogan? You seem kind of... slight to have pulled it off." He directs this at Kate.

The krogan watched the dossiers with apparent interest. "The two mooks at least, should be fun to bat around. I'd pay to see some good zoom tag so I think I'll leave Mister Okazaki to you, Miss Parker."

"Nah, not really. Guy was crunk enough to kill a thresher maw, and I was drunk enough to challenge him. I used this arm, at least-" she patted her right arm, "So he didn't do any permanent damage. But yeah, it kinda snowballed from there. What about you?"

A pause.

"And the Umbra shitting himself over there?"

Lanning raised his eyebrows a bit at the dossiers. Biotic. Of course it was a biotic. "...Right. You two have fun with them, then. I'll lend you some..." the drone flitted around the transport "indirect support."

He glared at Kate. "And sorry if I'm a bit apprehensive. I find that caution helps considerably when one lacks regeneration, or, say, enough cybernetics to make a mini-fridge."

"Dawww. You're sad you aren't a krogan or a cyborg death machine?" Kate nudged Lanning with a tendril. "Don't worry about it, you should be safe just providing drone support. Besides, what's this 'mini' shit? I'm not stopping until I can make a whole fridge."

It was a joking tone, but she did have that S+ pamphlet back home...

A muted clash of brakes and the truck slowed and came to a halt. In an alleyway if the noise outside was anything to go by, once or twice removed from the light hustle and bustle on the main thoroughfare. The ocean was close, a district away at the most, the crash and roar of the breakers audible if muted. There was a commotion coming their way, the motorcade as it turned off the sea road and advanced inland; towards the ministerial Manor that was home and office both to Malokotela.

The building was a veritable fortress. Oh they would be able to crack it with time no doubt but the sad sad fact that was oh so crucial to the overthrow of a duly elected executive body is that everything, everything, must happen on a strict timetable. The Prime Minister needed to be a cooling corpse before the Admiral and their other associates in the armed forces made their move. The military needed to be firmly ensconced in power before they could turn to the assorted corporate interests bankrolling this little insurrection the planet in hand.

Umbra were already hunkering down behind rooftop units, behind ledges, atop apartment buildings and businesses. Ghosts were stepping into the golden morning light as it beat down upon the street market below; breathing deep of the salty ocean air as they shouldered their own exotic weapons. In the deep cerulean waters of the sea a metal construct moved, spread winded, tail lazily waving as it drove the waves before it.

And here

well.

"Aaaaand this is my stop. We'll be in touch." Samitael's voice didn't cut through the chatter or roll over it as others might have, instead it slipped in, another thread of the conversation. The door was sliding open and he was giving a backwards glance, one smooth, idle wave by the time anybody really noticed.

The hatch hissed shut again. Comms clicked on. The truck set into motion once more carrying the reduced group on to their ultimate destination.

Time to start the clock.

"Test test test."

"I like my body parts attached, thanks." Lanning batted the tendril away and glared at Kate again. Boundaries, people, it wasn't that hard.

"Yeah, you're coming through fine," he said as Samitael came over the comms.

"My body parts are attached. They're just made of metal and plastic and carbon fibre and synthetic muscle weave and- wow I never thought of it that way!" Kate smirked, then prodded Lanning with a tendril again. Funny, they were way easier to control when she was giving the Umbra shit.

"Yeah yeah Sammy, we hear you. We gonna know it's time when explosions start going off like the latest Blasto or what?"

"And a touch of love" Gok added to Kate's statement.

"We read you just fine, boss" the krogan replies to Samitael over the radio.

The drone made its way back to Lanning, taking what was definitely a random route that just happened to involve it bumping into the back of Kate's head.

"Oops. So sorry."