Auld Lunar Syne

[Kadoratra (Kadora Trà)]

2112-01-29 21:19:56
2 hours, 41 minutes, 4 seconds to Year of the Water Monkey

Rain.

A common, natural part of human life for millions of years. Human life on Earth–not the Moon. While children in the dreary urban centers of Earth sing songs to wish away the same life-giving waters held sacred by ancient cultures, the Moon finds itself unblessed by such abundance as water falling from its caged skies.

Except, once a year, to celebrate the founding of Celeste 7 and to usher in a new year of prosperity, the Central Directorate authorized the upper districts to tap into their water reserves and release it into artificial clouds under hab-domes for a magnificent display. The phrase “Raining on your parade” finds much the opposite meaning in Celeste 7 than would be found on Earth, as thousands gather to experience the novel sensation while looking upon holographic parade floats shimmering gracefully in the water droplets.

Corporate security forces of all types washed through the city like a flood, cordoning off streets, patrolling high valued property, guarding their corporation’s VIPs, and watching the crowd as much as the spectacle. Today especially, however, CelSec was on high alert more so than in previous years. An anonymous tip provided credible evidence of a potential disruption to the celebration, a potential breach on a high-profile dome and sabotaged atmospheric control units threatening a rapid decompression event.

---

The Cat.

Kadora Trà was thankful to be assigned to Selene Collar; at least she didn’t have to get wet. She tried the rain once, and couldn’t get fully dry for days. Sonic showers were better anyway. The clean was strong enough to be felt in the bones and instantly nourished a shiny coat. More tunes to wash to would make it perfect, though, she was tiring of the same corporate jingles in the barracks…

The celebration she was taking charge of in the lava tubes would take place along the main ring road of Selene Collar, a largely circumferential lava tube that wends around the central transit hub. It’s a few blocks from the hub entrance, and immediately one could spot the signs of celebration by the decorative borders around the standard ad placements and their festive themes. Physical decorations adorned the signs and buildings as well, colored tinsel in black and gold of the ‘season’ (never mind the moon’s lack of such), made of the discarded fibers from metalworking the moon’s aluminum, iron, and titanium resources. The usual footpath light LEDs were set to a dim pulsing glow, some of them decorated as lunar mascots for the festival and others as the traditional lanterns of Earth. Screens and projections on the walls of various buildings featured the same giant holographic animals of the topside parade, rabbits and cats with lunar moths and dragons flying above, the displays undulating between reflective walls with brief intermissions lost to the shadows between.

“You there, stop unloading immediately. You’re blocking the parade path! Let me see that permit…” One of Kadora’s sergeants intercepted an overzealous candy cart, and she privately wondered if he would “sample” the wares as part of investigating the authenticity of the merchant’s permit. The main road was sufficient for daily traffic but not so wide for the festivals, cramming vendors and crowds into a tight funnel that spilled into adjacent alleys and side streets. Visitors took their food on a poly-carbonate stick, or wrapped in handheld plastics, eating on the go or seeking the quieter corners off to the side of the crowd. Some vendors took that to heart, putting calmer crafts in the alleys, where faces or cyberware get painted in bright patterns and people add their private wishes to scattered screens, where each joined a virtual well scheduled to erupt in a holographic display at the end of the night.

A couple of lieutenants and sergeants patrolled ahead of Kadora as she kept an eye out for interesting figures. She didn’t have enough patrol strength in this sector, and some locals could be amenable to favorable event rate Mohs.

“Kyle, get me that one.” Kadora pointed towards an interesting looking cyborg, thinking they would make a good enough deputy to aid their event security while the real officers investigated threat vectors to the parade.

---

A Ragged Breath

Partying in Celeste 7 was an all day affair, and on account of the “day” on the moon lasting a whole month… it never really stopped. Sound waves vibrated from speakers to a crowd of flesh and steel, passing past bone and polymer, through lungs and hearts, and reverberating off nearby buildings back into the streets. Digital noise punctuated by rhythm occupied the minds of the masses in the courtyard outside the central warehouse, as the DJ mixed music and directed a light show from its roof.

At the street level, however, figure in robes accompanied by a handful of small humanoid machines pushed a strange looking pillar hovering ominously a foot off the ground, navigating through the throngs of people enjoying the libations of the city’s most important holiday. The robed figures’ face is clearly the construction of cybernetic refinement, neon lights demonstrated his pale blue thoughts–calm, disinterest, forget–the people parted unconsciously as the man made his way to the front of the warehouse entrance with his mysterious device.

Elsewhere in the city, a program engaged that halted the oxygen-recyclers in Selene Collar, meaning the residents would have about an hour of clearheaded-ness before the effects of carbon-monoxide poisoning would start to build to dangerous levels…

[Angel (Adelaide Camilla Pérez-Moore)]

Location: parade route street
Objective : make easy money
tag : @Daiya

Wearing

Ada walked along the street with her hoodie zipped and her hands inside the pockets. She had earplugs in but the intense music was shaking her bones to the core, it seemed to have been going on forever and she would be glad when the new year would be here and things could go back to normal. At least some of it had been fun.

As she walked across a closed side street she felt watched, she didnt know why. She often carried a gun, this was Celeste 7 after all, but tonight she was carrying it with intent and for some reason she felt like everyone around her knew it. Could they read her mind? The woman glanced around nervously as if she was looking for some secret psychic. Ridiculous.

She was meeting @Daiya before she went and did.. it. It would be good to see her for a bit. She hadnt told the blonde everything but her friend knew she had a job somewhere that she hadnt really wanted to go into. It wasnt that Daiya was squeemish and that she didnt trust her, Ada just felt a little shame about this one. It wasnt about acitvism, it wasnt about changing the world, it was a hit. A dead man she knew almost nothing about in exchange for enough Mohs to keep Tsubaki off her back for a good while. That was the theory anyway, but who knew what this crappy body of hers.

Ahead of her she saw the signature blonde and pink of her friend sat on a bar stool by some concession stand. Daiya’s back was too her but other patrons walking away were carrying large popsicles so she would guess that is what she was having too.

“Hey, Chica! How you doing?” she said as she slid onto the chair next to her, hitching her ripped pants up to get confortable.

[Daiya]

She breathed in deeply of Selene Collar. The air smelled of home, as it hadn’t been for a while. The Pink Widow was no stranger to this lava tube, though others might find it strange to spot her here. If they bothered to look. She found herself plenty distracted as well, the black and gold streamers waving in the gentle breeze of the air circulation were inviting enough to wave back at. The laughter of small children grazed her ears, drawing a childish smile across the teen’s face. Some days, her own childhood felt as distant as history itself, but today she could walk in both the past and present.

Daiya took the festival at a casual pace. Her nimble dancer’s feet sidestepped those inattentive oncomers, with eyes anywhere but on their destination. There was really no destination for her either, the moment of the new year was still hours away and she didn’t have a single place to be. Other than here, basking in the animal-shaped glow of the lantern-covers of the streetlights, letting the shapes of the holo-projections catch in the corners of her eyes. The smells were starting to get to her, too, prompting her own belly to warble and complain about not getting a taste.

Her eyes weren’t paying as much attention to her stomach as they were to the colorful projections on the buildings above, mirroring the real holographic parade floats the Corpos got above.

A small nudge jostled Daiya from her uplifting reverie, as a youngster squeezed past her with one of the sweet, sticky candy pops that came on a stick. She glanced up to see the vendor looking at her, and the teen knew exactly what she wanted. Something bright and colorful to fill her stomach along with her eyes, “I’ll have one of those, too.”

Daiya pointed at the bear-shaped treat, holding up her mobile for payment until the vendor mentioned the price. Her eyes grew wide and she pulled back her hand. “A hundred and forty?” The dismissive sound blew across her lips, and it nearly turned her around right there. Others were waiting behind her, somehow still willing to pay after hearing that price. It must mean the treat was worth the Mohs, or the metal-armed confectioner had the right kind of hustle going. “Like hell they are, you’ll take half that from a kid after school tomorrow without blinking twice.”

Once upon a time, that kid was her, shelling out her parent’s Mohs for something sweet after school. Back when she still cared enough. Back when she had someone else’s money weighing down her pockets, too. That pining in her stomach had sunk some more, wallowing in a pit of its own making. No, the young shadowrunner thought again, it was the one the vendor was steel-arming everyone into believing, like they were in the wrong for not parting with more Mohs just for the occasion.

“Senta, signora // Listen, lady,” he said with a shrug, his native Italian translated automatically by her neuroport, “Sto solo cercando di tirare avanti. Allora, compra o no? // I’m just trying to make ends meet. So, are you gonna buy it or not?”

Her eyes focused, a pinpoint stare at the center of his forehead. Or as best she could reach from below his broad shoulders. Daiya wasn’t confused now, or even shocked. “Did you just call me lady?!”

Her belly was on fire now, and the vendor could only wish that was still hunger. A year ago, the young shadowrunner might have reached for her weapon, or the nearest CelSec goon. Those kinds of blunt instruments would have made a tacit point, just not the one she was aiming for right now. Today was founding day, the start of a new year. The thought of kicking it off with needless bloodshed sent her stomach twisting into even tighter knots. All the rumors in the world couldn’t make her Corpo enough to just off someone for existing sleazily.

“A discount? Really?!” Daiya’s jaw hung long, opened wide enough to make her voice carry in the thick press of the crowd. She quickly snatched at one of the small plush things clipped to the side of the cart and held it up. “And one of these with every two I buy?!”

Pink-tipped hair whipped around as the teen spun, showing off her prop to the line behind her. Now that she had a moment to glance at the critter in her hand, the eerie visage of the bear-shaped plushie had an uncanny resemblance to the candy version being sold. Right down to the spiky mane and the toothy grin. She mirrored the grin on her face as she turned back, giving a little more edge to the words she added in a lower voice. “Trust me, you’ll sell out in an hour. No need to thank me.”

He took her mobile this time, and it was still an outrageous sum to charge for two candy pops. Daiya notched her teeth together, locking them in gaps much bigger than the Mohs in her account right now. Her stomach still gave a lurch when she stepped aside to let the next, newly-eager, customer make their choice. An easy one, she figured, now that the vendor had sweetened the deal. She wore the grin all the way over to a familiar face, and beckoned the steel-armed woman from her chair.

“Here, have something to spoil your appetite,” Daiya offered one stick to Ada with a laugh. There was still enough color and festivity in the atmosphere to put a smile on anyone’s face. The teen brushed a lock of half-pinked hair that stuck to her own, and took a lick of her candy. Cloying. “Cheap sweets at surface-high prices. Happy fucking new year, huh?”

---

@Angel

[Angel (Adelaide Camilla Pérez-Moore)]

Daiya was a funny person, perhaps she should have gone into marketing as she had created quite a buzz around this stall. Ada wondered if the vendor actually appreciated it though. The brunette looked at him with a look that was part sympathy and part “you shouldnt have messed with her”.

She took the confectionary and looked at it. “Thanks chica. I don’t know if I have much of an appetite. I’ve got that thing I need to do and I dont want to be to full.” she smiled as she made her pointless lie. She then ran her tongue along the length of the sweet anyway before laughing. “Alright, this is pretty nice. Do you have the same flavour?”

There was a gunshot noise nearby and Ada flinched. It mihht have been anything, and Ada wasn’t normally nervous of gunfire but her job had her on edge. She tried not to let Daiya know what was on her mind and turned around to watch the carnival. She gestured up towards a large flagged float. “Any idea what flag that is?”. It was the national flag of one of the founding nations but Ada didnt recognise it to look at it.

@Daiya

[aidanwoldt]

“Hey, you! Yeah, you! Come here. The Captain wants to see you.”

Aidan Woldt was no stranger to being hassled by law enforcement. Sometimes it was because he was a person of interest in a local crime - either because he’d done it or, more commonly, because he was a drifter, an easy person to pin it on. Sometimes it was because the local authorities were bored, looking for entertainment, and knew he was the kind of person who had no one to appeal to if they messed with him. Sometimes a bribe would make them go away. Other times they wanted to kick him around.

He’d been through the whole rigamarole enough times that, when the Seccer’s shout broke through the general tumult of the parade and reached Aidan’s ears, he kept his cool. It was stupid to bolt, or to look guilty or panicked, even if those were perfectly natural reactions; it would only make things worse in the long run. He didn’t need to start off his tenure on Celeste 7 by becoming a person of interest to the local authorities over nothing. He turned around calmly, a bland smile on his face.

His thoughts were… less placid.

I literally just got here. How the fuck am I already in trouble?

He hadn’t meant to get caught up in this celebration at all; he was fresh off the boat, so to speak, and had just been trying to get the lay of the land. No one at the arrival terminal had bothered to mention that there would be parades that day, probably because they were bored, bitter clerks and laborers who - as essential personnel for managing arriving cargo - had not been given time off for Lunar New Year. He’d stumbled into the one in Selene Collar accidentally, trying to navigate from the spaceport down to the transit hub.

He was still carrying his soft-sided duffel - the only permissible type of personal item on a steerage flight from Earth - over one shoulder, containing all his worldly possessions. Clothes and documents, mostly; he hadn’t risked trying to bring a gun, though the lax “customs” he’d encountered for steerage arrivals made him think he probably could’ve gotten away with it. Still, better not to have anything suspicious on him if he was already getting noticed by security. It must be his implants that had marked him out.

“Sure thing, officer,” he said, turning to follow Kyle through the teeming crowd. Everything smelled good, especially after over a week crammed into a steerage module, where he’d mostly smelled the backed-up shitter and the acrid tang that radiated from people who’d thrown up in their pressure suits during the awful, bone-jarring fifteen minutes of passage through the atmosphere. His stomach grumbled as he glanced at the food and candy carts. He hadn’t eaten anything but algae-protein paste since Earth.

He kept an eye open for escape routes - places where the crowds would interrupt clean lines of fire for the security forces, maintenance passages he could duck into, carts he could hide behind - as he approached the little knot of Seccer officers patrolling along the parade route. When they stopped, he was grateful his eyes were cybernetic, or they might have bulged. This… couldn’t be the captain, could it? She was some kind of exotic bioware recipient, covered in fur. She also looked to be about half his age.

Well, maybe they did things real differently on the moon.

“You… wanted to see me, uh, Captain?”

@Kadoratra

[Botiza (Botiza Po Tulan)]

OPEN

Festivities were in full swing, the floats moved down the street and the first of them were beginning to pass her church. Pearl held her hand up to silence the rooftop congregation, hundreds of people gathered together to celebrate the birthday of the lunar colony. The was all sorts here, from the lowest street urchins, through hardened criminals all the way to corporate executives who had decided that what they all shared here was greater than some gaudy booth somewhere watching a sterilised version of the proceedings.

What they shared was faith. Faith in their humanity and faith in the society they shared, for all its myriad flaws.

“My gathered friends, sons and daughters of mother Luna, please be silent for out national flag.” she spoke on a clipped malaysian accent as the people obeyed and hushed for her. “We remember the first people who sacrificed so much that we may live. They came the moon and and carved everything you see before. Today we say thank you and a blessed New Year to your spirits.” there was a murmered amen throughout the crowd as Pearl opened a page on her holy book, banging her staff on the ground before reading a passage associated with new years just as flares burst over her head and entertainment drones put on a light show.

She knew this passage by heart but her finger traced the words on the page nonetheless. Her eyes moved around the closest of the crowd locking eyes on any that met her warm gaze.

[Kadoratra (Kadora Trà)]

The Cat.

She smelled them before the distinctive shape of the advertisement caught her eye. It was unlikely to be real pork, but the nose could be fooled if the mind wanted it enough, and the square leafy packaging stood out distinctively from the roundness of most delights catering to the “moon” aesthetic. Passing through the streets, a special deal on Bánh chưng was posted outside of a Vietnamese restaurant trying to lure customers past the intrusive vendors for a taste of traditional Tết food offerings, at the Cơm & Khói–Rice & Smoke. Her stomach rumbled in protest even as her face scrunched into a scowl, suppressing an uncomfortable memory.

The table was set just a little too high for her too-short legs. Forbidden to eat until Mỹ Lin had broken her rice cake first. Red envelopes passed around the table for the family, two placed in Mỹ Lin’s hands while she watched.

@aidanwoldt

“You… wanted to see me, uh, Captain?”

The pupils of her eyes narrowed quickly to the cyborg’s voice, broken from her nostalgia feigned as focus on the crowd. She did not smile, but she was pleased, her assessment at a distance seemed to match with what she saw now. A soft-sided duffel over his shoulder, the glint of too-perfect eyes, something mechanical on the forearm, and composure under scrutiny. Clearly un-anchored, fit for keen observation, and potentially more equipped than he lets on.

“Celeste Security is understaffed in this area,” Straight to business, and sure to leave no acronym misunderstood, CelSec might be the colloquial noun, but she had no time to explain who she was representing more than once. “At a glance, you seem capable, and perhaps needing orientation. We have a deputy fund for the parade you may be interested in, all I need to make it official for you is to see some identification.”

Without breaking her gaze, she waved a clawed hand for a datapad.

@aidanwoldt

[aidanwoldt]

Aidan blinked. The security captain might look like a teenager, but she was all business, her words rapid, her tone clipped and professional. He wondered what circumstances had put her in this role… and whether she was older, or perhaps even younger, than she looked. In the era of bioware replacements and rejuvenant treatments and vat-grown clones and designer babies, age was a difficult thing to pin down. Well, difficult to pin down if you were rich or corp-connected, anyway.

The poor all just ended up looking old before their time.

“Just like that, huh?” Aidan said, letting it slip out before he could stop himself. The captain’s offer told him a lot about the situation up here. Back down on Earth, there had been a sharp divide between the Corpo facilities and the sprawling, largely decaying urban areas beyond them. Within the walls of the East Bank Super Launch Zone, officers of Aurelian Security & Compliance Services had been watchful and omnipresent. Outside, the understaffed and underfunded civil police were barely visible.

It seemed like the moon wouldn’t be too much different. Aidan was sure that individual corporate facilities would be well-protected, but CelSec - he understood the abbreviation now - was clearly struggling to cover all of its patrol zones in the lunar megacity, enough so that they were willing to deputize civilians to help. It didn’t really surprise him that the corps who made up the Central Directorate that ran the place were only contributing so much to the public good. They wanted to protect their own assets first.

“Well, sure. Never been a lawman before, but it’s a day for trying new things.”

Aidan set down his duffel and rummaged in a side pocket, producing his scandocs. They identified him as a recent arrival - fresh off the figurative boat - from the US Midwest. His record contained a long history of minor gig work for various Earth corps. It left out all of the criminal activity he’d done between those low-paid jobs, simply because he’d never been sloppy enough to get caught. Someone reading between the lines could tell that he could never have afforded a ticket up here with just the legit work, though.

Though he kept his face carefully neutral, internally Aidan grinned. Being a corporate enforcer was not his ideal line of work, but he could do it for a day if the money was good. More importantly, his first impression of Celeste 7 was that it really did live up to the hype he’d assumed was too good to be true - less than two hours since he’d touched down here, someone was already offering him a gig. Maybe this really was the megacity of opportunity. He was tempted to run a scan of the street’s material composition.

Maybe it really was paved with gold up here.

@Kadoratra

[Daiya]

The more licks that Daiya gave to the sweet, the more she was starting to come around to it. The flavor, that was. It wormed its way beneath her taste buds, infusing them with some secret magic. She wouldn’t put it past the Corpos to have concocted such a devious chemical, designed to create addiction out of just one lick. The cloying texture lingering on her tongue seemed only there to remind the teen that she wasn’t a child any longer, who could see —or taste— only the sweetness of the world.

When it migrated up to her head, becoming a pulsing ache in her frontal lobe, Daiya couldn’t find it very sweet at all.

“Must be, same tint of see-through green,” Daiya pointed out, making sure to address the comparison first, as if that was of the utmost importance. With her head fighting off the impending menace, the inevitable throbbing that would send her reeling somewhere quieter, as if that’d be possible today. Daiya didn’t have much thought to devote to someone else’s problems. Ada’s misgivings about the festival didn’t mean she had to turn the whole afternoon into a gig instead. “Guess how many licks it’ll take…”

Daiya flirted with the answer in full view of her friend. Her tongue ran up the side of the candy, and she could pretend to enjoy it much more than she did. Especially if it made Ada some kind of uncomfortable. All the young shadowrunner needed to see was enough of a shudder running up that metallic spine to knock the cyborg back on her organic butt, convincing the lunar transplant that there could be time enough to take a break, relax, and lick a stick of candy for an afternoon. She laughed as the thought tickled her own brain, enough to distract it from its ache for another moment. “A hundred? Two? If I bite it now, think I’d chip a tooth?”

They were some distance away from the vendor by now, enough that the crowd had thinned some more to a slow night at the club. Silkscreen was probably packed well enough tonight, they were running a special on drinks at times deemed ‘lucky’ by numerology or some other voodoo methods. Daiya had chosen right to be in the public crowds instead, breathing in the energy of the crowd at this moment gave a surge to her system. Like it didn’t even matter that it cost an arm and a leg to do anything fun on this moon.

“What is this, a school night? Oh my stars! Did you that tremor in your hand fixed? It’s holding up super well now.” Daiya reached up to grab the mechanical arm gesturing in the air. The flag caught in her vision for a moment, but she was looking closer at Ada’s hand. Pulling it down between them, Daiya held up her own flesh and blood arm alongside, one without a single wire or metal component running through it. She kept her hand as flat and steady as its cyborg counterpart, willing it to stay as still as the unfeeling metal that felt almost chilly where it touched her skin. “Not even a flutter, a-mazing!”

@Angel

[Angel (Adelaide Camilla Pérez-Moore)]

Ada watched almost mesmerised by the attention that Daiya was giving to the candy stick, running her tongue up and around it with well practiced ease. That was until she realised exactly what her friend was doing. Her eyes widened and an uncharacteristic blush found her face. “Damn, Chica.” she said, turning away and trying to look nonchalantly into the crowd wondering how she was going to eat hers now. “I can see how you found a husband so quickly.” she laughed and shook her head before placing her own stick onto her mouth and just gently enjoying the flavour without any fanfare. It was very hard and very likely to chip a tooth if she was to bite, and Ada couldnt afford the dental work today. “Always trying to get to the filling too quickly, must like the taste.” she winked, having regained enough composure to meet Daiya on her level.

She nodded when Daiya asked about the tremor. Her arms had their warranty voided long ago —as if any corpo would ever honour one of those anyway— so there was a constant chase to keep ahead of any natural glitches that would usually be ironed out during routine maintenance. Daiya’s arm was slender and long next to hers, dancers arms with grace that hid wiry strength, and her practiced poise showed as she held them as static as her own servos.

Ada let out a bit if a sigh. “I guess, its always a school night. Unfortunately for you, my school was one of those inner city ones where noone gives a shit if you turn up packing.” she briefly grabbed the crotch of her shorts with her other hand to emphasise her point before laughing and rocking into Daiya with her shoulder. “I know its meant to just be a party, but the pay is too good to pass up ese. It wont take long.” she wished she didnt have to do it tonight and just enjoy the evening with her friend. She didnt even need to drink around Daiya, sure they probably would, but Daiya was one of the people who she could deal with sober and still have a good time.

@Daiya

[Kadoratra (Kadora Trà)]

The Cat.

@aidanwoldt

“Just like that, huh?”

“Just like that,” Kadora Trà produced a tight smile that acknowledged, but betrayed no amusement or disfavor. Her sharp feline eyes observed with a scrutiny that felt lazy; identifying the subject thoroughly, but without much thought into the subject itself. Her ears, however, flicked in different directions, each independently on their own axes. While nominally focused on Aidan, her sense of the surrounding movement of the crowd never left her peripheral awareness, such that if someone were to be victim of a pickpocket right now, she’d likely hear the swift fingers through fabric before seeing them. Assuming of course, she cared about such things happening to anyone but herself and her officers.

@aidanwoldt

“Well, sure. Never been a lawman before, but it’s a day for trying new things.”

Aidan set down his duffel and rummaged in a side pocket, producing his scandocs.

She accepted the scandocs in her open claw and finally relented her gaze. A welcome reprieve, certainly, not all baselines appreciated her too-long eye contact. Despite her truncated and accelerated education (and age), Kadora’s mental acuity enabled a skill of rapid information absorption… perhaps due to a natural plasticity in her brain as a consequence of her genetic refactoring. Read at such a blistering pace, others found to be rude (but could not fault her retention of information), she handed off the scandocs to another officer beside her, a dark-skinned woman wearing a helmet with obvious hearing protection.

“Lt Lonnie, process a disposition form for Deputy Woldt to payroll, and furnish a temporary barracks assignment or commercial lodging. Have them process a scrip ledger until he’s established a local bank account.” Kadora’s ears twitched again, but in a way distinct from her earlier listening, she placed a clawed finger to the side of her head just below the lobe. She nodded once, as though acknowledging something in a conversation Woldt couldn’t hear.

“Report received Sergeant Rogelio, we’re on patrol towards you now. Please prepare an extra sidearm, I have another Deputy onboard.” The hand at her ear fell down to her hip, where a collapsed telescoping baton rested, and remained there comfortably as she began moving with the patrol again as the rear detachment drew closer.

“Deputy Woldt, do you have any experience with sonics?” She asked, referring to the favored less-than-lethal of the moon, knowing the probable answer but open to surprise.

@aidanwoldt

[aidanwoldt]

Over the past ten tumultuous years he’d been out on his own, Aidan had found himself in a lot of fast-moving situations. He’d been jumped by rival scavengers while lugging a full sack of scrap through the plastic deserts, his breath fogging his cracked goggles, making it hard to see where the bullets were flying from. He’d found himself flushing stolen military combat stimulants while corporate security banged on the bathroom door, quickly cracking each vial and pouring it down the sink before tossing the glass vials out into the smog beyond the narrow window.

That kind of situation - rapid disorder that required him to think quickly on his feet - was all too familiar to Aidan. But the rapid order he’d experienced here on Celeste 7 so far, the shockingly swift turning of the wheels of bureaucracy, was much less so. Getting his pass approved to make it up here had been the work of months, and getting the money for it the work of years. Each place he’d drifted had been its own maze of regulations and restrictions; work permits, residency allowances, travel stamps.

Aidan was accustomed to red tape so thick it was like a spider’s web, hopelessly tangling any poor schmuck who needed to reach the other side of it. But here? Here everything seemed to move like lightning. With no more than a quick once-over of his scandocs, the young captain was assigning him payroll, lodging, and a sidearm. “Deputy Woldt,” Aidan said, chuckling to himself. “How about that.” He’d had more difficult job interviews for warehouse labor positions. Maybe the hype wasn’t overblown, and this really was the sky-city of ultimate opportunity.

He decided he’d better check that the streets weren’t paved with gold after all.

When the captain finally tore her eyes away from him and his docs, Aidan gave her another look - a more carefully appraising one. The way she’d hired him meant either that she was either very self-assured, the kind of young officer who had total confidence in her ability to carry out her duties and to know exactly how to address any issues that arose on her shift, or that she was lazy and corrupt, with little care for procedures and eyes only for what would make her shift easier. Looking at her bearing and attitude, Aidan couldn’t see it being the latter.

A true Corpo believer, or just a consumnate professional? Too early to say.

If asking about Aidan’s proficiency with sonics was the first test, he failed it… but if that was a dealbreaker, the captain probably would’ve asked before she got him put on payroll. "Can’t say that I do, he replied, falling into step with the group. “Planetside, most everyone still shoots projectile slugs. But I’m a quick learner.” He looked around, seeing mostly cheering crowds and occasional traffic violations. It didn’t look all that dangerous, but he knew all too well that appearances could be deceiving, and the mood of a mob could shift on a decimal point.

“Expecting to need to use 'em, Captain?”

@Kadoratra