***
By the time they reached the car, the sun was starting to set outside the tower, leaving the sky a blood red color as it leaked through between the massive
towers. Chris couldn't help but find it appropriate, but he certainly didn't mention it. Not now, when none of them really wanted to talk about what
they'd seen, what was going on here in Fionas home turned slave world. Least of all Fiona, who had collapsed in on herself, her hair hiding her face and,
they all knew, the tears running down it. All three of them wanted to take the girl and hold her, promise her it would be all right. But right now, none of
them could bring themselves to lie to her.
They'd driven down the Towers exterior roads and were back on the highway again before Fiona spoke, her first words since they'd fled Trolltown before
any more monsters found them. "I guess-" she coughed, clearing her throat, then continued. "I guess that's the end of it." Chris gave
her an odd look in the rear-view mirror. "If we keep looking, that means dealing with Crey. Up close. I appreciate what you guys are doing for me, I
really do, but... they're harvesting monsters here, who knows what for! They probably made the drugs that made the Trolls in the first place, released it
into the city and used it as a giant damn lab!"
Chris nodded. "Almost certainly," he agreed. "Frontier Security wouldn't give a damn about keeping an eye on them, meaning they have
absolute free reign here."
"And they're a Mesa offshoot," Ben noted. "No oversight in their own backyard, twitchy security, and they always have a need for people to
experiment on."
"And I wouldn't be surprised if Crey would like to get their hands on a Newman like me," Amy added. "Manpower's been trying to sniff
around Ragols gene-engineering work for decades. Their bastard offspring wouldn't be any different."
Fiona nodded. "Exactly. I appreciate everything you guys have done for me... heck, if it wasn't for you guys, I might never have been found," she
added with a slight shudder. "But I can't ask you to take this kind of risk to find my family."
Frowning, Chris glanced over at Ben, seeing a similar expression on his friends face, then looked at Amys expression in the mirror. "You're
right," he said. "You can't ask. So, I figure you and Amy should talk to the local OFS representatives tomorrow morning, see what they'll
tell us about the Landlord. That thing would have all the records from before it was unplugged. If nothing else, it'll be another step closer. Ben and I
will find the local Crey offices, try and talk our way inside. The security would be pretty insane given how they've been annoying the locals, but
hopefully they'll be willing to have one of their paper-pushers at least listen to us."
Scowling, Ben glanced out the window. "We'll have to be polite. Respectful... And hold back on doing what I'd really like to do to Crey."
"Hey, if I can hold in my homicidal urges, so can you," Chris replied. "Just imagine it."
"So, be polite, be efficient, and plan to kill every single person we meet?" Ben asked, glancing over at him.
"Does wonders for my stress levels," he grinned. Fionas eyes had gone almost comically wide, as she glanced back and forth between the other three.
"Do we have to be polite to OFS?" asked the Ragolian in the back seat. "Or can I be honest?" On her lap, Sato chirped his encouragement (Of
good manners or honesty, no one knew.)
With a snort, Ben looked over his shoulder at her. "Do you really think it's a good idea to tell them they're a pack of drunken, incompetent,
bribe taking assmonkeys?"
Making a thoughtful hmm, Amy leaned back, pretending to consider the question seriously. "Well, it's probably not," she admitted at last.
"But it would be quite satisfying." Sato chirped, nodding his head. "Oh hush. You just want to eat their guns." Sato looked up at her and
made a short, electronic 'blat!' noise. "Language."
Humor seemed to pull Fiona out of her shocked state. "Are you nuts?!" she demanded. "I just told you-"
"You couldn't ask," Chris replied.
"And you didn't," Amy added. "We just decided to take the risk anyway."
Ben nodded. "It's a documented side effect of being someone's friend. You tend to help them in situations where your danger sense tells you to run
away, screaming and crying." He twisted in his seat and smiled at her. "So, no need to ask, or fret. We're here, we're doing this."
Fiona looked at him for a long moment, then sighed and leaned back into her own seat, closing her eyes. "... Thanks guys," she said quietly, her
voice catching in her throat. "Thank you."
***
Studying a map of the convoluted, confusing hallways, office blocks and laboratories that made up the administration tower Crey had built for themselves in the
center of the city, Chris frowned. "Is it too late to tell Fi we can't help her on this?" he wondered, tapping the the little dot labeled
'You are here'.
Next to him, Ben snorted. "We'll take on armies, aliens and giant robots, but flee in terror when it comes to bureaucracy." His captain smirked,
and Ben checked the index screen next to the map. "We need to take the elevators to floor one-seventy-eight, then go to the northern section..." he
frowned, looking at Chris. "Is it me, or are you getting flashbacks to the Bureau of Deep Space Vehicles?" he asked.
Closing his eyes for a moment, Chris let out an amused groan. "Oh God, don't remind me. 'Oh no sir, you need to speak with Spaceworthy Inspections
first.' Now that was a painful week." Briefly regretting the many stops he'd been making at water fountains all morning, he gave the map another
quick check, then nodded in relative satisfaction. "Okay, I think I know where we're going."
"Captain Wood?" Glancing at each other, the two men turned to see a number of Crey security officers standing there, a man in a sharply dressed
business suit at the front of the group. "You are Captain Christopher Wook of the independent ship Duskwalker?" the man in question asked. Chris
nodded carefully, keeping his hands away from his body. The almost eager expressions of several of the guards, along with the way they were barely keeping
their weapons aimed at the ground, were more them enough to convince him not to make trouble. "Mister Wentworth would like to speak with you."
Chris smiled faintly as he shrugged. "Well then, lead the way," he said. "I'd go by myself, but I'm afraid that this tower's a bit
of a pain to find my way around." He waited as the guards checked him, then let his smile widen slightly at their surprised expression. "Left my gun
with our friends," he explained.
"Best not to be carrying firepower in a place like this," Ben agreed. "All too likely to be taken the wrong way." He suppressed a smirk as
the scowl on the face of the man in the business suit clearly indicated he'd been hoping for a Ragolian weapon of some sort. Silently, they were led into
an elevator that proceeded to climb up through the tower for nearly two minutes, the doors opening into a hallway that was much more extravagant then the lower
floors the two men had spent hours wandering through. Thick, lush carpet, paintings and holograms on the walls, carefully maintained plants... this floor was
reserved for the important officials.
Ben and Chris glanced at each other, now rather concerned, as they were led down the hall and through a pair of large, solid doors made of a polished timber
that neither man recognized. This left them in a large office that actually looked rather friendly and tidy, and a massive 'window' that showed the
skyline of a city that certainly wasn't Astonvale. Crystal towers, carefully controlled lanes of aircars weaving between them, and a clear blue sky with
two suns visible overhead. "Please wait here," said the man in the suit, before the entire group turned and left.
In the moment of silence that followed, the pair looked at each other, Chris raising a single eyebrow, and Ben merely shrugging. Discussion complete for the
moment, they turned to look around the room, Chris moving over to the 'window' and discovering that it wasn't actually a flat image on a screen,
but a detailed hologram that gave him an incredible view of the streets far, far below. In fact, going by a rough estimate, the point of origin of this view
was actually much higher then this actual tower was. "Impressive," he murmured.
"Isn't it?" agreed a new voice as the doors swung open to admit another man in a business suit. While the first Crey official had been wearing a
properly cleaned and pressed suit, this mans suit made the first one look like moldy rags. Perfectly tailored, custom made from real fibres, probably from one
of the Leagues Core Worlds, if Creys fashion tastes followed the standards of most megacorps in this region of space, so well maintained by experts that not
even a single strand was loose. The man wearing the suit was just as bad, with short, professionally styled brown hair, manicured hands, even his eyebrows were
carefully trimmed. "It's a live feed from the corporate headquarters on Sillurst." He smiled, showing off perfectly maintained teeth.
"I'd love to claim it was my idea, but it's standard on the offices of all planetary directors. The Countess likes to remind us of our ties to the
rest of the company." He stepped towards them and held out a hand. "Alexander Wentworth, Planetary Director of Crey New Wales."
Returning the handshake, Chris replied, "Christopher Wood, captain of the Duskwalker. My pilot, Ben Cook." Ben nodded slightly as he shook the
executives hand. "What exactly can we do for you Mister Wentworth?" Chris asked, deciding to skip the dancing and weaving of delicate conversation,
and just get to the question of why they'd been brought to the office of what was probably the most powerful person on New Wales.
"Alexander is fine, and to be honest, very little," Alexander said with a faint smile. "Oh, I may have some cargo for you, if you're
interested, but for the most part, this meeting is more to ensure that there are no misunderstandings between your ship and Crey Industries, particularly in
the matter of Miss Lockley." Neither of them were quite able to keep the flicker of concern from their expressions at the mention of Fiona, and the
official nodded. "The League embassy on Ragol forwarded the information on her existence to the relevant authorities, and I must admit, it leaves us with
a minor issue. You see, in the interests of global security, we have currently placed a halt on New Wales citizens travelling offworld. Too much work is needed
to be done here, so to speak... and, well, you went to Emmert Tower yesterday, I've been told. As such, allowing her to leave her homeworld may not be
possible."
***
By the time they reached the car, the sun was starting to set outside the tower, leaving the sky a blood red color as it leaked through between the massive
towers. Chris couldn't help but find it appropriate, but he certainly didn't mention it. Not now, when none of them really wanted to talk about what
they'd seen, what was going on here in Fionas home turned slave world. Least of all Fiona, who had collapsed in on herself, her hair hiding her face and,
they all knew, the tears running down it. All three of them wanted to take the girl and hold her, promise her it would be all right. But right now, none of
them could bring themselves to lie to her.
They'd driven down the Towers exterior roads and were back on the highway again before Fiona spoke, her first words since they'd fled Trolltown before
any more monsters found them. "I guess-" she coughed, clearing her throat, then continued. "I guess that's the end of it." Chris gave
her an odd look in the rear-view mirror. "If we keep looking, that means dealing with Crey. Up close. I appreciate what you guys are doing for me, I
really do, but... they're harvesting monsters here, who knows what for! They probably made the drugs that made the Trolls in the first place, released it
into the city and used it as a giant damn lab!"
Chris nodded. "Almost certainly," he agreed. "Frontier Security wouldn't give a damn about keeping an eye on them, meaning they have
absolute free reign here."
"And they're a Mesa offshoot," Ben noted. "No oversight in their own backyard, twitchy security, and they always have a need for people to
experiment on."
"And I wouldn't be surprised if Crey would like to get their hands on a Newman like me," Amy added. "Manpower's been trying to sniff
around Ragols gene-engineering work for decades. Their bastard offspring wouldn't be any different."
Fiona nodded. "Exactly. I appreciate everything you guys have done for me... heck, if it wasn't for you guys, I might never have been found," she
added with a slight shudder. "But I can't ask you to take this kind of risk to find my family."
Frowning, Chris glanced over at Ben, seeing a similar expression on his friends face, then looked at Amys expression in the mirror. "You're
right," he said. "You can't ask. So, I figure you and Amy should talk to the local OFS representatives tomorrow morning, see what they'll
tell us about the Landlord. That thing would have all the records from before it was unplugged. If nothing else, it'll be another step closer. Ben and I
will find the local Crey offices, try and talk our way inside. The security would be pretty insane given how they've been annoying the locals, but
hopefully they'll be willing to have one of their paper-pushers at least listen to us."
Scowling, Ben glanced out the window. "We'll have to be polite. Respectful... And hold back on doing what I'd really like to do to Crey."
"Hey, if I can hold in my homicidal urges, so can you," Chris replied. "Just imagine it."
"So, be polite, be efficient, and plan to kill every single person we meet?" Ben asked, glancing over at him.
"Does wonders for my stress levels," he grinned. Fionas eyes had gone almost comically wide, as she glanced back and forth between the other three.
"Do we have to be polite to OFS?" asked the Ragolian in the back seat. "Or can I be honest?" On her lap, Sato chirped his encouragement (Of
good manners or honesty, no one knew.)
With a snort, Ben looked over his shoulder at her. "Do you really think it's a good idea to tell them they're a pack of drunken, incompetent,
bribe taking assmonkeys?"
Making a thoughtful hmm, Amy leaned back, pretending to consider the question seriously. "Well, it's probably not," she admitted at last.
"But it would be quite satisfying." Sato chirped, nodding his head. "Oh hush. You just want to eat their guns." Sato looked up at her and
made a short, electronic 'blat!' noise. "Language."
Humor seemed to pull Fiona out of her shocked state. "Are you nuts?!" she demanded. "I just told you-"
"You couldn't ask," Chris replied.
"And you didn't," Amy added. "We just decided to take the risk anyway."
Ben nodded. "It's a documented side effect of being someone's friend. You tend to help them in situations where your danger sense tells you to run
away, screaming and crying." He twisted in his seat and smiled at her. "So, no need to ask, or fret. We're here, we're doing this."
Fiona looked at him for a long moment, then sighed and leaned back into her own seat, closing her eyes. "... Thanks guys," she said quietly, her
voice catching in her throat. "Thank you."
***
Studying a map of the convoluted, confusing hallways, office blocks and laboratories that made up the administration tower Crey had built for themselves in the
center of the city, Chris frowned. "Is it too late to tell Fi we can't help her on this?" he wondered, tapping the the little dot labeled
'You are here'.
Next to him, Ben snorted. "We'll take on armies, aliens and giant robots, but flee in terror when it comes to bureaucracy." His captain smirked,
and Ben checked the index screen next to the map. "We need to take the elevators to floor one-seventy-eight, then go to the northern section..." he
frowned, looking at Chris. "Is it me, or are you getting flashbacks to the Bureau of Deep Space Vehicles?" he asked.
Closing his eyes for a moment, Chris let out an amused groan. "Oh God, don't remind me. 'Oh no sir, you need to speak with Spaceworthy Inspections
first.' Now that was a painful week." Briefly regretting the many stops he'd been making at water fountains all morning, he gave the map another
quick check, then nodded in relative satisfaction. "Okay, I think I know where we're going."
"Captain Wood?" Glancing at each other, the two men turned to see a number of Crey security officers standing there, a man in a sharply dressed
business suit at the front of the group. "You are Captain Christopher Wook of the independent ship Duskwalker?" the man in question asked. Chris
nodded carefully, keeping his hands away from his body. The almost eager expressions of several of the guards, along with the way they were barely keeping
their weapons aimed at the ground, were more them enough to convince him not to make trouble. "Mister Wentworth would like to speak with you."
Chris smiled faintly as he shrugged. "Well then, lead the way," he said. "I'd go by myself, but I'm afraid that this tower's a bit
of a pain to find my way around." He waited as the guards checked him, then let his smile widen slightly at their surprised expression. "Left my gun
with our friends," he explained.
"Best not to be carrying firepower in a place like this," Ben agreed. "All too likely to be taken the wrong way." He suppressed a smirk as
the scowl on the face of the man in the business suit clearly indicated he'd been hoping for a Ragolian weapon of some sort. Silently, they were led into
an elevator that proceeded to climb up through the tower for nearly two minutes, the doors opening into a hallway that was much more extravagant then the lower
floors the two men had spent hours wandering through. Thick, lush carpet, paintings and holograms on the walls, carefully maintained plants... this floor was
reserved for the important officials.
Ben and Chris glanced at each other, now rather concerned, as they were led down the hall and through a pair of large, solid doors made of a polished timber
that neither man recognized. This left them in a large office that actually looked rather friendly and tidy, and a massive 'window' that showed the
skyline of a city that certainly wasn't Astonvale. Crystal towers, carefully controlled lanes of aircars weaving between them, and a clear blue sky with
two suns visible overhead. "Please wait here," said the man in the suit, before the entire group turned and left.
In the moment of silence that followed, the pair looked at each other, Chris raising a single eyebrow, and Ben merely shrugging. Discussion complete for the
moment, they turned to look around the room, Chris moving over to the 'window' and discovering that it wasn't actually a flat image on a screen,
but a detailed hologram that gave him an incredible view of the streets far, far below. In fact, going by a rough estimate, the point of origin of this view
was actually much higher then this actual tower was. "Impressive," he murmured.
"Isn't it?" agreed a new voice as the doors swung open to admit another man in a business suit. While the first Crey official had been wearing a
properly cleaned and pressed suit, this mans suit made the first one look like moldy rags. Perfectly tailored, custom made from real fibres, probably from one
of the Leagues Core Worlds, if Creys fashion tastes followed the standards of most megacorps in this region of space, so well maintained by experts that not
even a single strand was loose. The man wearing the suit was just as bad, with short, professionally styled brown hair, manicured hands, even his eyebrows were
carefully trimmed. "It's a live feed from the corporate headquarters on Sillurst." He smiled, showing off perfectly maintained teeth.
"I'd love to claim it was my idea, but it's standard on the offices of all planetary directors. The Countess likes to remind us of our ties to the
rest of the company." He stepped towards them and held out a hand. "Alexander Wentworth, Planetary Director of Crey New Wales."
Returning the handshake, Chris replied, "Christopher Wood, captain of the Duskwalker. My pilot, Ben Cook." Ben nodded slightly as he shook the
executives hand. "What exactly can we do for you Mister Wentworth?" Chris asked, deciding to skip the dancing and weaving of delicate conversation,
and just get to the question of why they'd been brought to the office of what was probably the most powerful person on New Wales.
"Alexander is fine, and to be honest, very little," Alexander said with a faint smile. "Oh, I may have some cargo for you, if you're
interested, but for the most part, this meeting is more to ensure that there are no misunderstandings between your ship and Crey Industries, particularly in
the matter of Miss Lockley." Neither of them were quite able to keep the flicker of concern from their expressions at the mention of Fiona, and the
official nodded. "The League embassy on Ragol forwarded the information on her existence to the relevant authorities, and I must admit, it leaves us with
a minor issue. You see, in the interests of global security, we have currently placed a halt on New Wales citizens travelling offworld. Too much work is needed
to be done here, so to speak... and, well, you went to Emmert Tower yesterday, I've been told. As such, allowing her to leave her homeworld may not be
possible."
***