The Nest Of Sensual Delights

Vulgarity warning

Airlock  - IND Jackal -
 * An amber warning light washes the small airlock, chasing dull shadows across the gray hullsteel walls. It's sized for approximately five crew, with plenty of space for gear and equipment. Access panels and storage lockers frame the space, providing a sparse atmosphere of simple utility. Along one wall there is a rack for several EVA suits, along with ports for keeping the suits' systems charged and online. A hatchway emblazoned with a stylized jackal's head in bold red leads starboard into the ship's forward corridor, and is fitted with a windowed partition.

Torr stands in the locker, frown on his face as he digs through one of the lockers. "Are you kidding me? Are you fuckin' kidding me?" He mutters this, and shakes his head.

Solace comes thumping up the ramp, dragging a cage along behind her. "ANYONE AROUND?" She bellows as she reaches the top and ducks through the airlock. It's easier than, you know, using a PDA or something. She grimaces as sees Torr, then nods. "Only I got three more of these fucking things and they're fucking heavy."

Malion makes his way in front the main corridor, psi blocker still active and a hand held to his temple. His dark sunglasses are resting on the top of his head. "Three of what?" the gunsmith painfully asks.

"Looks like a cage bigman, you go blind or someshit?" Torr smirks with the reply, and straightens up out of the locker. His own blocker is on as well. He glances toward Sol. "They outside?"

Solace nods her head. "Guy promised me not even telepathic little ferretmonkeys could open the fucking things, got a DNA lock. Cost me fuckin' extra, but eh. They could probably figure out number codes, and the eyeball scanner was more expensive." She drags her cage to the side and dumps it in a handy open space.

"Can't we just fuckin' shoot them," Malion grumbles, as he leans up against the bulk head. "Shoot them, skin 'em and buy some steamed clams, yeah... Sounds like the fuckin' plan. Mini mind rapin' fuckers they are."

Torr nods and moves down the ramp. Soon he is back, two cages in tow. He moves them over to thye same spot Sol left hers. He lifts one, then the other, creating a neat pile. He shoots a glance toward Mal. "Lets go bigman, only one fuckin' more."

Solace pulls out her own psiblocker and turns it on, moving to the emptied locker to retrieve its furry little prisoner. She opens it and picks up the stunned ferretmonkey, then goes to stick her finger in the lock and open it, tossing the creature inside and turning her psiblocker back off.

"Righto Torr, I'll grab me shotgun," Malion says, as he pushes himself off the wall. "It's in with the rest of me guns." He waits to one side of the hatch into the main corridor, reaching up to charge up the stun gun which has been concealed inside his business jacket. "Hey Sol... We've got three more in Jared's locker. One's a bit nasty."

"What the fuck are you getting the shotgun for, I wanted you to go grab the other fuckin' cage," Torr replies, shaking his head a little bit at the gunsmith.

"I think I mighta found a buyer, there's an exotic pet peddler here. They seemed interested, but a bit nervous cause they've never handled em before." Solace says conversationally, after giving Malion a weird look.

"Because the fuckers need to die after screwing with me head," Malion says, snarling slightly. "I can't stand the little fucks when they put thoughts into your mind." He doesn't go for the shotgun, but moves towards the cages. "Fucking Swifty stunned me because of these shitstains."

Torr snorts. "I woulda fuckin' clocked you," he remarks, stepping a bit away from the cages. "We get all those fuckers yet? We know?"

"Doubtful, we only got four, there's gotta be at least five. That's how big their smallest families are." Solace says. "I wanted to be sure, so we can fit three in a cage, four cages. If there's more than twelve, they'll have to fuckin' squish." She ponders, then shrugs. "You know, we should do the search in pairs. They might be able to feel the psiblocker before it gets close enough to stun, and then they could get out."

"Or we could herd them," Malion suggests, arching a brow as he looks from Solace to Torr. "Ain't they gonna naturally flee from the psi blocker? So we push them into... the crew quarters."

"Yeah, that shit could work," Torr nods a little as he thinks this over. "Or just start from the fuckin' aft and move forward."

Solace nods. "But that won't help us find the nest." She says, then frowns. "Though we might not find that anyway. Well, why don't we go sweep the storage bays? Seems to me that'd be th'most logical place for em."

"Think they might got into the third hold?" Malion asks, arching a brow. "I ain't been up there for a few days and don't know." He turns his head to look towards the main corridor. "But I know shit all 'bout these rats."

"Sure," Torr replies. "Or the fuckin' 'special' hold." He nods to Malion. "That might be a good spot." He shrugs at this. "Fuckin' no idea about that shit either. I don't know shit about vermin like that."

Solace shrugs and leads the way. "Let's get to it, then. Sooner we get rid of the little shits, the better. Though if it's really going to be that bad, we might have to call in s'more people to help us herd em."

Smuggler's Hold  - IND Jackal -


 * Weapons. This claustrophobic little space is wall-to-wall weapons, with the odd suit of armor tossed in for good measure. Everything is assembled in a sort of ordered chaos upon racks and hooks and shelves, or stored in metal crates bearing arcane military labels that have been stacked high in the corners. The lighting here is almost painfully dim, provided by flickering, self-powered fluorescent lanterns mounted along the walls, a clear indication that this room is not connected to the ship's main power grid and is only intended to be seen by a carefully chosen few.

Welcome to the smuggler's hold ladies and gentlemen, home of Malion's weapons and everything black listed on board. More recently a residence of the ferretmonkeys complete with two ferretmonkey juniors. In one dimly lit corner of the compartment lays several shiney objects, from some of Solace's beloved reactor parts, Malion's Sivadian watch and even a strange bullet shaped object.

Malion carefully ducks into the compartment, psi blocker off at the moment and pistol in hand. "Really need to clean this place up, he comments to himself. He hasn't spied the mess in the corner yet.

Torr's psi blocker is on full force, his eyes slightly narrowed as he glances around the area. Eyes soon land on the mess within the mess. He frowns. "Little sons of bitches." He makes a break for the nest, hoping to get within range of the little things before they can run."

Solace blinks a bit, glancing around owlishly. "Fucking...I can't see a thing." She complains, but she does catch Torr's movement, heading for the door and turning on her psiblocker as well in case they make a break for it.

"What ya..." Malion says, as Torr makes a run for the little ferretmonkeys, he immedatiately spies the nest (complete with strange bullet shaped object). "Ahh... I see" He quickly makes his way towards the opposite side of the compartment, hoping to bar entry into the hold beyond, also Switching the psi blocker on at the same time.

The little baby ferretmonkeys do notice Torr coming (be it from the evil looking shadow he throws across the compartment in the dim light, or the void that he has around him because of the psi blocker). Instead of running towards either exits, they huddle in the corner, clinging to each other, terrified and chittering/screaming loudly.

Torr closes on the little critters, a frown on his face. "Fuckers," he spits out, doing his best to get right on top of them. He seeks to enclose them in the psi blocker void.

Solace keeps to the door, but the adults don't seem willing to leave the babies behind. It's probably a good thing for them, getting in the range of two psiblockers might be too much for the creatures.

The big scary man (played by Torr) doth come closer, innocent little ferretmonkeys (played by innocent ferretmonkeys) doeth run from big scary man... Straight towards the big tall scary lady (played by Solace).

Malion... Well, he just stands there scratching his his butt with an amused expression on his face as he watches the excitment.

Torr veers sideways as they begin to try and evade. He jukes to the side, hoping to cut them off. "Sol, stop the fuckers!"

Solace keeps her psiblocker on. They have go through her to get out. Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump...there they go. They ran straight into range of her psiblocker. "That wasn't very smart." She comments.

The two little ones do indeed run into Solace's psi blocker... But there's more chittering coming from high up, on top of the locker nearby.

Thump... Something impacts on the wall next to Torr... Something brown and foul smelling.

More butt scratching and watching, that's Malion's job in this whole thing. he continues to watch the scene unfolding in front of him, snickering at the poojectile almost hits the XO.

Torr narrows his eyes at the noise, glancing up at the nearby locker. Seeing that the babies had been subdued by Solace's blocker, he turns. Advancing toward the locker, he frowns. "C'mon fuckers," he mutters.

"C'mon, we got the babies." Solace says cajolingly. "C'mon and you can stay with em, otherwise we're gonna lock em up and sell em without you." Apparently, she's the good cop?

The ferretmonkey cocks its head to one side as Solace speaks, almost seeming to understand the Timonae. But Torr, the big scary man continuing with his approach... Either from ferretmonkey humour or simply through defence, the 'monkey lets loose with another round.

Malion continues to watch, first scratching his nose and then having a quick pick. He flicks his finger (complete with cargo) towards one side. It's obvious that he's spent time around the resident Zangali.

Solace picks up one of the babies, eliciting an irritated spate of chittering from the elders. She handles it with care, however, then picks up the other one, cradling the little creatures in her free arm. "C'mon, I'm gonna take em..."

SPLAT! Another brown mark on the walls of the Smuggler's compartment.

The ferretmonkey looks from the target of Torr to Solace, then back to Torr and then to Solace. The trump card has been played, and like anyself respecting elder, the ferretmonkey makes its way down from the top of the locker. The creature's tail is directly up and down in alarm and its stand offish. It does attempt to spray something at Torr, just as a warning.

Hmm... The roof must be interesting, as that's where Malion's looking at the moment. Forgotten is the nose picking and butt scratching, and apparently the ferretmonkeys, too.

Torr shakes his head at the sight of the thing attacking him, a fine mist coating his boots. "Fucker." He continues his advance, then lashes out with a foot, aiming to knock the pest out one way or another.

Solace's psiblocker is still on, and the closer the ferretmonkey gets, the closer to being knocked out it is. She takes a small step back, almost warning it, the babies in her arm. "C'mon. I won't hurt them if you just c'mere."

With the strange area around Solace being enclosed in a 'void' because of her active psi blocker the ferretmonkey doesn't get to close. Call the RSPCA or PETA or what ever the local animal rights group is on Antimone, as Torr -attempts- to kick the ferretmonkey. Not happening today my friends, as the ferretmonkey seems to have been into Solace's stash and is hyperactive. It jumps at the wall, bounces of the bulkhead, scitters across the floor... Straight into Torr's psi blocker field. Silly little monkey.

Malion's laughing, being no good to anyone at the moment. Yep, it's all one giant joke to the gunsmith.

"Yeah, Bigman, this is fuckin' hilairious," Torr shoots at him, snorting. "Thanks." He bends down and grabs at the scruff of the neck on the little thing, frown on his face as he lifts it up.

"Well, let's go cage em and then sort through the shit they stole." Solace says in disgust, holding her hand out to Torr. "I'll take all three, yeah? You guys can start looking through the stuff."

"Fuck Torr," Malion grumbles, as he rolls his eyes. "Ya don't hafta be so -pissy- about it." He snickers as he looks down to the other Martian's boots. He nods in response to Solace and makes his way over to the not so pleasant smelling nest. He seems to be attracted to the silver, bullet shaped object, kneels down and carefully picks it up by two fingers. "Who's do ya reckon this is?"

"Betcha it's Swifty's," Torr replies, smirking a little. "Take care of that fuckin' shit they threw, huh? Clean it up good." Solace snags the third ferretmonkey from Torr and starts to head out. She pauses at Malion's question, and glances over. "Looks like the thing Luci keeps his coke in." She comments, then shrugs. "But I don't think his is missing." With that, she exits to cage the beasties.

"Fuck... That's where me good watch got to," Malion says, as he shifts across to the item in question. "And me Timmiegirl porn... Zangali beastility porn?" A slightly amused expression comes across his face as he looks at the title of the vid. "When species cross; A love story 'bout a Zangali and Mister Bacon... Boss, think this is yours."

Torr snorts, shaking his head. "Fuck, that is not mine. Bet fuckin' Lucius left it here. That sick fuck," he takes a cigarette out and sparks it to life. Then he flicks his psi blocker off.

"Oi Torr," Malion says, as he continues searching through the different items in the nest. "There such thing as Zangali cross dressing porn? If there isn't... I think there is now." The gunsmith holds up another holvid disc, showing it to the XO. The title simply reads Urgalina; Interstealar Zangali of .... The rest fades off, looking like its been warn down through constant use.

"Yeah?" Torr smirks, shaking his head and eyeing the stuff. "Shit, I wouldn't know. Thats some fucked up shit." He takes a slow drag, then exhales, watching the other man.

Solace returns from depositing the ferretmonkeys. "They already started to wake up. Never been cussed out so thoroughly before by something I don't understand." She comments, then moves for the nest, retrieving the reactor fuse and looking it over. "I dunno if it'll still work or not..."

"Think it's yours," Malion says, holding the disc between two fingers and giving his wrist a flick at the other man. It doesn't move at any great speed, and would be easily to either catch or avoid. As Solace moves up beside him, he holds the bullet like object by two fingers and gives the bottom a twist. The device vibrates into life. "Does Lucius' coke holder vibrate?" He's dead serious with the question.

Torr smirks, ducking to the side and letting the disc fly over his shoulder. "Not mine." Then he glances at the vibrating thing and smirks. "See. Toldja that shit was Meowmix's. Betcha that fuckin' porn is too. "

"No, Maly, that would be a vibrator." Solace says seriously, still examining the fuse. "Stop playing with your ass toys and find the important stuff, would you?" She heads for the door, muttering under her breath. It seems Sol's gone into work mode again.

Malion places the still vibrating vibrator onto the deck... Which promptly skitters away from the gunsmith, umm.. Vibrating? "Ain't me fuckin' arse toy," he grumbles as he searches through the rest of the junk. "What the fuck am I mean to be... Hey, look at that." He's found some yojj-sterling which is quickly shoved into a pocket. "What's this shit look like, the shit that ya need?"

"Yeah, what do we need to find?" Torr quirks an eyebrow. By we, of course, he means Malion. Still supervising, he takes a long drag from the cigarette, the tip glowing brightly in the dim light of the room.

"I'm missing some tools, and they ruined some of the wiring, so I need my small torch, which they took again. Gotta go see if this still works...." The Timmiegirl trails off into muttering again, disappearing out the door without another word.

Malion needs glasses, he doesn't see anything that looks like what he's after. He's distracted by the vibrator which is making its way towards Torr's ferretmonkey urine covered boots. "Fuck... We find another, we can hold races," he says, as he looks back. "Means I can take bets and makes some extra cash."

Torr kicks the vibrator. It is a great kick, the now urine covered device arcing perfectly through the air toward Malion's face. Torr snickers. "That shits over there," he nods toward the edge of the pile, where at least a few of Sol's missing items can be found.

Doink! We have a legendary dildo kicker in the house... And Malion drops to one side, holding his nose. "Fucking hell!" he shouts, holding his bloodied nose. He appears to be in a great deal of pain at the moment. Blood down the flak jacket, blood down the suit jacket, blood over the decking, too.

"Oh c'mon, don't be bitch," Torr remarks, smirking a little as he walks toward the man. He bends down and scoops up Sol's missing items, steering clear of the other Martians blood. "Makin' quite the fuckin' mess in here. Jesus."

"I'm gonna fuckin' shove the that thing so far up that fuckin' ferretmonkeys arse... It ain't gonna see the light of day again," Malion growls, at the other Martian. He's trying not to laugh, finding the funny side to ending up with a bloody nose from a vibrator... Which by the way continues bouncing around on the deck, seemingly undamaged from the kick and the subsequent stopping Malion did using his face.

"Damn, that thing has a lotta fuckin' endurance," Torr remarks, eying the vibrator. "No wonder Meowmix loves that shit." He snickers, then turns toward the door. "I'm gonna get this shit to Solace."

Be damned foul vibrator!

Malion stands up, makes his way towards the suspect item, lines up the kick and misses the vibrating device altogether. "I'm gonna fuckin' shoot it... Gonna fuckin' kill it!" he barks out as he glares at the urine soaked and now blood covered vibrator which still bounces across the decking. Life's hard when you're Malion Vincess.

Torr is just heading toward the exit, Solace's missing items in hand. At the words behind him, he smirks, and turns. "Fuck, fuck that thing up, Meowmix'll be sad. Thats her fuckin' constant companion."

The gunsmith glares at his latest nemisis... The vibrator of doom! Malion stands there glaring at the device, blood running from his nose, blood down his flak jacket and suit jacket. There's blood around the nest, just small droplets. Torr's on his way over to the hatch. But oh no, Malion's going for another kick at the silver device of delight. We have lift off!! And the device bounces off the bulkhead and then towards the hatch. "Fuckin' thing..."

Solace is heading back in, and she pauses just at the last second to avoid running into Torr. "I think it might be working, but I can't tell for sure until I fix the wiring." She says, rubbing the back of her head. Then she just sort of stares at Malion for a while. "I'm not asking, and I don't fucking want you to tell me."

"He's ruining Swifty's sex life, I'm tellin' you," Torr remakrs, shaking his head. "But shit, here." He extends the items Solace requested. "Fix this shit, huh? Lets move to fuck on."

Clink. Clank. Ding! The vibrator lands on the decking and continues vibrating... Malion just stands there and blinks. "That thing's indestrucable," he comments, as he continues to hold his nose. He then glances across to Torr and Solace. "He kicked it," the gunsmith explains, pointing at the outher Martian with his spare hand. "Fuckin' sconed me a beauty, too."

Solace snags her gear posessively, hugging it tightly. She eyes the vibrator, then snorts. "What if it's Jared's?" She asks, then grins. "Now you have Jared ass-germs, congratulations. C'mon, quit playing with the sex toys and help me fix the girl up."

Torr laughs. "Fuckin' Lunites, twisted fucks." He shakes his head a little, then heads for one of the room's exits.

"Fuck...." Malion grumbles, shaking his head. "Please be the Doc's, please be the Doc's..." He makes his way after Torr and Solace.

Engineering  - IND Jackal -
 * There is no room to move, here in the freighter's tight engineering section. The room is filled by her oversized and heavy drives, massive and complex. The maze of conduit and service lines arc out in ordered chaos, from her twin fusion powerplants to her huge insystem drive. Designed for heavy hauling, this is the strong heart of the rugged freighter.

Solace heads straight for the reactor, which is already open and waiting. She flips down her goggles and sets her tools aside, pulling out the tiny torch and ducking in to fix the gnawed wiring, ass end hanging out of the aperture. "Maza's sagging tits, this is fucking rediculous. They gnawed on these to get to the fucking fuses. Psychotic little fuckers..."

"Yeah, they are little bastards," Torr remarks sadly, shaking his head. "Sons of bitches." He takes a drag from his cigarette, letting the engineer do her job.

Malion wanders in, seeming in no great rush to get where ever it is he might be going. Hand still held to his bleeding nose. "Space them..." he grumbles as he draws closer draws closer to the duo.

"Fuck that, they're worth money." Solace says between spates of welding. She's one of those people that hums as they work, which is too bad for her crewmates' ears.

Torr nods a little, managing to tune out the humming. He flicks some ash from the end of his cigarette, eyes tiredly moving around the room. "Think I'm gonna grab some sleep. Maybe we head offa Antimone tommorow, huh? Little tired of this shit. Keep hearin' wierd noises in the middle of the night." Eyes flick toward Malion.

"We get the reactor up today," Malion says, as he looks between Solace and Torr. "I can fly to where ever ya want us to move. Check it out for problems and shit during a trial flight, yeah?"

"Jump off a cliff to see if you can fly?" Solace asks sardonically, then snorts and sits back, tossing the torch to the side and flipping up her goggles. The reactor fuse is carefully wiped off with a corner of her skirt, and she pops it back into place. She closes the panel and gets to her feet, checking the display.

Torr shrugs a little. "No clue. Just not here. Fuckin' Demaria maybe? I havn't been there in fuckin' forever. Unless we just wanna head to Quaquan and wait out Ace." He shrugs. "Your fuckin' vacations." He then moves toward the exit of the room.

Malion moves out of Torr's way, being careful not to brush up against anything. "Yeah... I get a vacation then time in a POW camp, whoohoo," he sarcasticly replies, before glancing across to Solace. "Base jumping, sounds like fun. What's crawled up ya arse today and died Sol?"

"Nothing, I'm just pissed some little fucking animals messed up the fucking ship." The Timmiegirl mutters, watching the diagnostic. "Professional pride and shit. Luc and Captain Ace's ship are on New Luna."

"Fuck's stole my good watch, too. That's a professional thing, ya know?" Malion bitter says in reply. "So ya wanna head to New Luna? Ya can catch up with Lucius and I can get a briefing from Ace, yeah?"

"Sounds naffy, and everything looks good to go. No other cut connections." Solace says. "Gonna catch a nap on the way, yeah? I'm dead tired and shit." She gives a little wave.

Malion moves to one side to let the Timonae pass, and follows after her. "Righto," he says. "I'll gradually bring everything on line, and carefully take her out."