Hmph. I was hoping the crystal heist would win. That would have been some proper pirating. Oh well, you can't win them all, can you? Maybe the opportunity will remain and we can return to it after this detour.
...
Where? Oh, the bounty and the city?
...
Well, it's colloquially known as the "Sunrise City" or "Sunset City" depending on whether you identify as an optimist or pessimist, and it's actually not the worst setting to find oneself. It holds many wonderful opportunities for character development and world-building!
Now, it's sat on a tidally locked planet near the terminator, and on quite a large and very gradual hill, so the city is perpetually split between various degrees of twilight and dawn. This phenomenon, if you can't guess, is due to the city blocking roughly half of itself from receiving light from the perpetually stationary sun, which barely scrapes the horizon.
The significant division, though gradual at an individual faraway level, has led to other significant divisions arising in the city. Such as-
...
Ah... Yes, I've heard of "show don't tell" before... But I'm not a writer I'm a narrator, and if you really want to see the city so badly, just pull information about it from the collective. What's that? You're not connected? Well then, that's thoroughly a "you problem".
...
Fine, I'll "get on with it"... But I don't have to be happy about it.
...
The bounty? Well, you wanted "show" not "tell", so now you'll have to wait for me to show you.
----------------------------------------
Alpha strode out of the emporium, trialed by Dirn and Dewey, and only partially listening to Rebecca's ongoing explanation as she followed behind.
"Oh, you'll love Sunrise! It's so pretty! The local plant life is all wonderful shades of purple, the temperature is just right, and there's always a gentle breeze!"
Both Alpha and Dirn nodded in near-perfect lockstep as both their minds went elsewhere. Alpha's eyes fuzzed for a brief moment as she pulled up various references on the city and Dirn settled into a comfortable absence of higher thought.
"I can show you my favorite sites to see! They're gorgeous in the golden light of dawn! I mentioned it's always dawn there right?"
She had, at least twice before, which was quite impressive considering her monologue had only been running for a few minutes before we came about.
"Anyways, once we get to a common area that isn't too crowded I can show you guys how to set up teams. The earlier we do that, the quicker we can save a spot aboard a shuttle!"
Dirn was wondering what shuttle provider serviced pirates. Did they charge extra to cover higher insurance rates?
To answer their question, and perhaps your own, no shuttles would be arriving at the Blood Black Bone; in Shiny Blood Red Letters Please knowing that it was a pirate vessel. Blood would use dynamic projectors along the ship to change its overall appearance, and distort its subspace generator fields so any prying eyes attempting to ID the vessel would find a match with an entirely legal hauling ship that did various odds and ends to make ends meet.
However, with the jump core ejected and the warp core in its precarious state, there would be no controlled distortion. Thankfully the damage to the warp core led to a natural distortion, though not one that matched up with any of Blood's exiting fudged registrations, nor one distorted enough to pass a close inspection.
Blood just had to hope that no one would take too close of a look at their drive signature or hastily doctored documents. Especially if such a scan was conducted by an entity that was familiar with local pirating escapades. Mrs. P's pirates were undoubtedly responsible for at least a few of them.
A proper investigation would reveal key similarities to such reports, and could possibly lead to rather uncomfortable questions being directed at the ship. All in all, the pirates found themselves in a rather unfortunate situation.
Thankfully, the system in which Sunrise City could be found, was very understanding of such unfortunate situations, assuming of course one could make others more fortunate in their place.
If you don't get the euphemism: it's bribery. You could bribe almost anyone in this system, and Mrs. P had done so. On many occasions. And had even been bribed on many occasions. In fact, across the system, the act of giving a bribe had managed to replace the act of giving gifts in many holidays or cultural situations where gift-giving was anticipated.
...
No, there's no mechanical difference between "giving a gift" and "giving a bribe" in these scenarios, it's just the implication.
Wait, ah, I've done it again. Is she still talking?
"I think it's really neat how it's always sunrise there, I've mentioned that haven't I?"
It's like we never even left.
"Hmm, here we go," Rebecca said as she walked into a mostly empty room. It was furnished with technologically advanced bean bags and various other decor. Even though the bags weren't quite as advanced as the one aboard The Lazy Descent, these still had capabilities far beyond bags filled with inert beans or other materials. They would conform to your shape, regulate your internal temperature, massage you if you so desired, and eliminate any assassins attempting to interrupt your relaxation.
Rebecca hadn't known about that last feature when she procured them, and to this day remains blissfully ignorant of the beanbags' full functionality.
She paused at the doorway and blushed partially.
"I... Uh... I actually did most of the decorating for this room, I hope you like it!"
No one was ever surprised to learn this, and Alpha, Dirn, and Dewey were no exceptions. The beanbags, soft lighting, gentle music, and chaos of various small plants and colors (dominantly red) gave off a feeling that wasn't quite "Rebecca", but definitely what "comfy" would feel like if it had been processed through the concept of "Rebecca" first.
Taking a beanbag seat at the edge of a beanbag circle, Rebecca pulled a virtual tablet out of one of her left arms. There had been no real reason to wait until now to do so, other than the fact that Rebecca couldn't work with her tablet while walking without obstacles rudely stepping into her way or obstructing her path. Like walls.
Yes, walls; walls which are famous for their unpredictable nature and cruel habit of sneaking in front of attentive individuals minding their own business.
"Ah, here we go," she stated as various forms began to appear from her left wrists' micro-holographic projectors.
"Let's see... None of you have ever been registered as part of a squad before... So no need for reassignment forms. With me and Madeline, we would only be five, which should be within the limit for this gig... So no extension forms either..."
Alpha marveled at the onslaught of babble that would have been labeled "legal jargon" had it not come from a pirate's mouth. It appeared that even aboard a pirate ship, needless forms had wormed their way into any niche not already occupied by some sort of tedious task or waste of paper.
Now, it's not that it wasn't legal jargon, but Alpha knew she could get into trouble if she used the "L-word" around pirates without the proper context. Besides, they probably had a proper pirate word for it. "Pirate Papers" perchance? That seemed like a low-hanging fruit though... Scallawag Sheets? No... I swear if it contains the word "Booty" in them somewhere...
Many of the forms winked out as Rebecca slid the necessary ones over to the others in a deft movement. Alpha raised a hand to "catch" the digital document, and it flashed as she took it into her own personal mental space to review.
A fourth document flew past, and Alpha started, turning to see the angular form of Madeline pulling up a beanbag between Dirn and Dewey.
"Okay, so let me know if you have any questions filling it out. Madeline and I have done this so many times, but they always change it up a little bit depending on the mission... Here, you've got to justify your position in the team, and the accepted justifications change depending on the mission itself... Make sure you reference section 3-A for that..."
Rebecca trailed off as she began to fill out the document. Dirn tentatively raised their hand. Rebecca glanced up at the timid gesture. You have to give Dirn credit, it's not easy to come across as hesitant with their hulking mass, but they managed to pull it off.
"It says here that there's a limit of two per squad... So will we be needing the extension forms, and if so, how should we fill those out?"
Rebecca frowned at that information and flipped through her digital packet until she came across the same piece of information Dirn had found. They weren't wrong, the limit was clearly stated and even bolded. Odd...
"Huh, well, to be honest, we can just split us up into groups of two. I doubt they'll actually split everyone up to directed assignments. They don't usually do that unless it's a serious job, which this isn't."
She flipped past a few pages to where one could enter one's chosen partner.
"I guess we just pair up. Can we have someone without a partner? Madeline can bring one of her friends if we need to I think... This might get complicated though if everyone aboard the ship has to partner up..."
Rebecca paused as a slight ring rang from her device. A moment later a similar notification flashed across Alpha's awareness as pings rang out across the ship. Ah. It appeared that Mrs. P already had the matter under control.
"Oh, well... I guess that solves that then..." Rebecca said with a notable lack of enthusiasm.
Mrs. P, with the assistance of Blood, had assigned partnerships across the crew and role delegations. Throughout the ship, there were various barely audible murmuring of discontent. What the crew had thought was to be a proper period of relaxation appeared to be turning into a proper period of "Mrs. P expects you to actually do something". In all fairness, there would likely still be a significant level of dawdling and general frivolous activities, but now they had locations where Mrs. P expected them to survey, and partners Mrs. P expected them to survey with.
Typically, Mrs. P left the actual bounty hunting to those in the crew more inclined to such activities. Madeline, for example, had a solid track record of tracking down the target once she managed to offload Rebecca. The other members of the crew, in particular those with skill sets not suited to pursuing a bounty, would busy themselves off somewhere else, and on rare occasions stumble onto a crucial piece of information that cut them into the bounty.
Of course, members of the crew would receive payouts according to the level of assistance they supplied, which usually provided a proper incentive to enough pirates for there to be a suitable bounty hunt.
Even still, rarely was a hunt, or any other task, the main reason for Mrs. P and her pirates to make a stop at any particular location. It was more so any location worth stopping at for other reasons, almost always had at least a few opportunities worth pursuing.
However, with the level of direction provided to the pirates regarding this particular odd job, this may have been one of the rare cases where they were expected to, well, actually do the job.
Rebecca turned her tablet over looking for additional information, momentarily forgetting that it wasn't one of the many digital papers she had just previously handled. Aboard the display, it stated her partner and their assigned location. Dewey, and the "Twilight Belt", whatever that was.
Had Rebecca strayed from the tourist areas of the daylight side of the city, she'd have known that the "Twilight Belt" referred to the transitional area between the "Sunrise" and "Sunset" sections of the city.
Dewey swiped away a holographic image and clambered over to the beanbag to Rebecca's side.
"Guess we're partners for now right? I'll let you take the lead as you've been here before," Dewey said as he settled his limbed mass into the beanbag. He couldn't quite sit in or on it, but he could bunch it up underneath him so it would appear as though he was sitting. You learned to do things like that when working around humanoids, as they'd often find constant pacing to imply some sort of high-strung mental state, regardless of what Dewey's actual body language said on the matter.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
If you are wondering, it was when he wasn't moving that you should worry.
Rebecca chewed the inside of her cheek briefly but didn't correct Dewey's assumption. Perhaps assigning herself as the chaperone of the newcomers hadn't been the best idea, as responsibilities now appeared to be rearing their ugly heads. She forced a smile and nodded towards Alpha and Dirn in an attempt to pull herself out of a potential spiral.
"Are you two together then?" she asked.
Dirn, surprising Rebecca, answered first.
"No, I've been partnered with...," he began, but paused as Madeline stepped up from behind him.
"Me," Madeline finished for Dirn, "we've been assigned to the Dark."
This section of the city had a proper "space age" feel, at least according to any visitors not accustomed to more modern cities. It was eternally shrouded in the shadow cast by the rest of the city, and lacking any proper creativity its denizens had taken to referring to it as "The Dark".
This did not mean that it was actually darker than the sunlit side of the city. Bright artificial lights that spread across a wide range of the spectrum meant that for many species more sensitive to electromagnetic waves, "The Dark" was often brighter than many places on the "Light" side of the city.
Rebecca gave a slight frown. She'd have assumed Madeline would have been paired with someone more her speed, especially if Mrs. P actually wanted this bounty caught. Madeline was one of her best hunters, though not quite as effective in urban environments, she was still lethally efficient when it came to the inevitable chase. If she had been paired with one of the more investigation-oriented pirates, this whole thing could be over within a day.
Maybe Mrs. P wanted to see what Dirn could do and thereby placed them under the charge of someone who would actually pursue the bounty, instead of enjoying their time ashore.
Rebecca turned her head towards Alpha and raised an inquisitive eyebrow. If all four of those who knew Alpha were already accounted for, that meant she'd been paired with someone new, and Rebecca was forming a mental betting odds table in her mind of who Mrs. P had assigned.
Would it be Richard? He was a simulacrum, which wasn't exactly the same as Alpha, but more similar to her than most of the biologicals aboard. Though thinking upon it,
Rebecca's bets and trains of thought were sent into complete disarray upon hearing Alpha's response, so much so that she didn't quite catch it.
"Uh, sorry, who did you say you were paired with Alpha?"
"Mrs. P it appears."
Rebecca mulled on this. Usually, she was the one who went with Mrs. P. She quite liked riding on Rebecca's shoulders, though Blood's tiger frame would do in a pinch.
While Alpha's shoulders were less optimal for a cat, it wasn't inconceivable for her to be assigned to Mrs. P. Almost every member of the crew had served under her direct guidance for a time.
Normally following a pirate's trial period, they would go off and join other squads. However, Rebecca's height, matching color palette, and comfortable shoulders had secured her the position of "Mrs. P's walking high ground" even past her probationary period.
Perhaps...
Rebecca gave Alpha a quick once over. She was almost as tall as Rebecca... And blue went quite well with red... And she could probably heat her shoulders to Mrs. P's preferred temperature... And her step was certainly more graceful than Rebecca's...
Surely not...
Well, if Mrs. P did seek to obtain an additional shoulder carrier, that would just give more freedom to Rebecca... And there was no reason to be jealous about that. No reason at all.
Now that Rebecca was thinking about it, Alpha did have rather nice shoulders.
She quickly derailed that train of thought as Alpha continued. Yes, when Rebecca worries about something, it appears her mind is capable of doing so at tremendous speeds.
"It doesn't say where I'm going, but I do have a designation..."
Rebecca raised her eyebrows again, this time in response to the shift in Alpha's tone. She hadn't heard that register before and wondered what it could mean.
Alpha let off a sigh and shook her head as she pulled up a holographic image of the notification, and flipped it so the others could read its bold blood-red lettering.
"Mrs. P's Personal Pirate Porter."
----------------------------------------
Dirn felt a gloved pincer press gently into their side. Perhaps if they remained still, its probing would cease. Dirn had hoped to catch up on their rest now that they were aboard the mag-lev train towards the city, as there had been very little time for it while following Madeline and the others through the space-port, space-elevator, and not-space-but-rather-pretty-normal-train.
Okay, the train might have had just a little bit of space in it, but not enough for it to be a "space train".
Dirn felt another press, perhaps more accurately described as a "jab" this time. They remained motionless and focused on controlling their breathing. You would have needed a brain scan to tell that they weren't deep in sleep. Surely such dedication to the slumbering arts would deter Madeline's insistent prodding.
Then Dirn felt a hand, or more likely Madeline's pincer, lightly take ahold of their upper arm. A touch of reassurance? Of comfort? With senses restrained by their false sleep, there was no way to tell for sure.
At least until the force became less gentle. Giving Madeline's restraint some credit, the force was only gradually becoming painful, though Dirn knew that it wouldn't stop until they "awoke" or lost a chunk of themselves. Sitting up from their reclined position and gently but firmly pushing away Madeline's arm, Dirn brought themselves out of their false stupor.
"Okay, I'm up," Dirn said under their breath, knowing that Madeline's sensitive hearing would pick it up, "what is it?"
Madeline waited until Dirn finished blinking their eerily colorless eyes, and then motioned across the aisle.
"Can you make out that individual?" Madeline asked. Her own voice hushed.
Dirn blinked twice in quick succession and felt their cybernetic lenses tighten their vision into focus. What?
It didn't take Dirn long to see who Madeline was referring to. Or rather, it didn't take Dirn long to realize they couldn't see who Madeline was referring to.
Across the aisle, there was a shape that defied any attempt to perceive it. The effect is difficult to describe. Have you ever tried to read something in a dream?
"Turn off your lenses," Madeline spoke quietly.
With a hard blink, Dirn did so and was immediately rewarded with a clearer picture. A human sat alone near the end of the train compartment. She was stereotypically feminine and evidently wished to showcase such. Dark lipstick, (literally) glowing eyeliner, a deep blush, and perhaps an even deeper neckline, not that Dirn would have taken notice of any of these facts. No, they were far more interested in the flowing patterns that traced their way across her entirety, and the fact that they and she had been imperceivable through Dirn's cybernetic lenses.
They wove across her form, fading and coming into focus like trails of falling stars across a night sky in rhythmic pulses that resembled a heartbeat. The trails formed intricate arrangements, and while there was a general pattern to them visible at the distance from which Dirn sat, they couldn't make out their specifics.
The symbols were reminiscent of infernal runes if infernal runes were constructed out of continuous flowing curves instead of sharp intersecting lines. They ran intertwined across her form and reminded Dirn of writing the old language in cursive.
With a start, Dirn realized that these symbols actually floated above the women, as they watched them trail off the robe and continue their delicate dance across her skin for a moment until they faded. Unfortunately, Dirn couldn't tell what their purpose was, but they could make an educated guess.
Before they could follow it to a conclusion, Dirn's train of thought was interrupted by another invasion of their personal space.
"Well?" Madeline asked, her patience losing a war against her curiosity.
Dirn shook their head.
"I can't tell what the symbols are, but I'm guessing they're why I can't see her if my lenses are active."
"Symbols? Her?"
Dirn turned to look at Madeline. Her compound eyes relied heavily on her own invisible cybernetic lenses to make out anything at a distance, but even they should have been able to make out that much unassisted.
"Can you not see her from here?"
Madeline shook her head.
"I can't, and Doug can't either," she said, motioning to their third companion.
Doug was a slug and the fact that this rhymes in your language is a joy lost to etymological history. His four cybernetic arms, similar in make to Rebecca's two, danced across a floating screen. His six eye stalks, enabling significant absorption of information, followed a turbulent cascade of various windows. Every so often he would select one and slide it over to Madeline's side of the screen for her consideration.
Doug paused for a moment as he realized the conversation had spilled over to include him. Sliding the floating windows to the side, three of his eyes turned to look at Madeline. The other three turned to Dirn.
"That is correct. Neither of us is capable of discerning the... women as you say," he said in a smooth synthesized voice. Unlike Madeline, Doug had no organs capable of typical speech.
Madeline hummed an affirmative. Unlike Dirn, she was capable of speech through vibrating membranes that sat recessed within slits along her thorax.
Dirn grunted inquisitively and uncertainly as they shifted to a more attentive position in their chair.
"It must be magic then... That's powerful magic too isn't it?" Dirn asked.
Both Madeline and Doug gave their species' equivalent to a nod of acknowledgment. Madeline could actually nod and did so with a low hum while Doug's eyes dipped down briefly.
"Quite powerful, in addition to being of dubious legality," Madeline said softly.
"There's also a memetic component. Neither me nor Madeline noticed her until Madeline saw the heat, and wondered where it was coming from."
Doug fully closed the windows a few of his hands had been working on up to this point.
"Once she realized there should have been someone there, she realized that there was, and she just couldn't see them," Doug said, "and once she told me, I noticed the same."
Dirn frowned at the information. Even in systems more open to magic than this one, it was considered to be in bad taste to manipulate the perception of others, especially without their knowledge.
It isn't illegal mind you, thank goodness for that. Now, manipulating someone's mind directly with magic? That's a rather large "no-no", both legally and culturally.
You have to stick to more traditional ways of manipulation like advertising and poisoning the water supply. Thankfully we've found better ways recently.
Dirn turned from their thoughts to Madeline and Doug but found them engaged in a silent conversation. Not quite truly silent, but both could hear and speak at frequencies and volumes beyond Dirn's unassisted range.
Dirn watched their silent conversation for a moment. They debated on whether they should attempt to join, but the subtle call of potential exhaustion shifted the scales. Dirn briefly looked back towards the women covered in the near-infernal symbols and was given a brief shock when they realized she was looking at Dirn herself.
What would have been nothing more than brief glances from both parties, had they not overlapped, became an uncomfortable stretch of direct eye contact. Dirn's breath momentarily halted, and the women's symbols slowed.
Breaking the spell, perhaps more literally than they assumed, Dirn gave the woman a terse nod and reclined back into their seat before they could catch her reaction. Blinking towards the corner of their vision, Dirn pulled up a small map provided by whichever organization ran the rail service.
They'd arrive at the city in roughly half an hour. That wasn't quite enough time to catch some sleep, but if Dirn really needed the rest there were numerous alternatives. In fact, many people don't even sleep at all these days. Between magic and technology (or just "magic" if the technology is sufficiently advanced for you), you could cast off the shackles of your base biology and embrace the future and all its amenities.
Dirn themselves tried to avoid relying on such. It was very easy for a quick injection of NeverSleep™ to turn into a habit, and Dirn didn't have the cash to burn to support that. In addition, their dreams were one of the few refugees they had left. There were other options if one wanted to still dream quickly while tight on cash, but Dirn didn't like the advertisements of sleep aids like QuickSleep™ injected into them.
Sighing, Dirn reenabled their cybernetic lenses and flicked open their notification tray. Most of them were from Doug and Madeline. All which supposedly contained pieces of information that they deemed worthy of Dirn's attention.
Quite a few were about the city, though Dirn noticed that Madeline had forwarded a referral link to a supplier of human skirts... Though this had been much earlier in the day. Evidently should Dirn ever feel the need to purchase such garments, they should do so from Madeline's supplier so she could receive a kickback.
Dirn let themselves have a short mental laugh at the idea. The last time they'd worn anything besides their customary monotone utilitarian outfit had been a while ago...
The mental mirth faded quickly, but before less pleasant emotions could take its place Dirn forced their mind to move on. Dwelling on the past was the only way it could haunt you. That's why Dirn was always on the move. You might not be able to hide from the ever-present march of time, but you sure as hell could run from it.
Unless of course, the past came to the present through temporal manipulations or distortions. Time zombies were quite a nuisance in some regions.
Focusing back on the task at hand, Dirn reviewed several of the more relevant information snippets. Most were familiar to them already, as they had spent much of the journey thus far conducting their own research. Dirn had already covered most of the significant political and cultural dynamics within the city, as well as some more basic details, like the city's topography and layout.
It's a shame you weren't here for that, it would have been an ideal method of providing you with crucial exposition, but you "wanted to get on with it", didn't you?
Thankfully for Dirn, and you, there were now many new pieces of information provided. Unfortunately for Dirn, and you, the pieces of information would not accurately be described by the word "useful".
An infographic detailed how the local flora and fauna were purple. Not that Dirn would be able to appreciate that fact.
An animated image detailed that due to the planet's tilted axis, the sun did move across the sky over the course of a local year. Again, Dirn would not be there long enough to see this for themselves.
An advertisement proudly proclaimed that there was a traveling production of a romance opera which had dignitaries and other individuals of note arriving to watch from various locations across nearby systems. Alpha might have been interested in this but would be mortified if anyone knew her well enough to realize this. Dirn did but didn't want to remind her that they had seen her notification queue filled with interesting media choices, which was the only reason they knew this.
There was an alert to any species under a few kilos to be aware of while outdoors. A population of extremely predatory and flying "spider-birds", which could not feel fear or know death, were making their way through the region. Evidently, a good number of them would take up residence across the city for the next week or so. Oh, and they're extremely poisonous, have strong innate magic, and it's a crime to harm them. Not because they were endangered or anything, but because they had hired very good lawyers.
Dirn frowned, and an unbidden thought entered their mind. What if the "spider-birds" learned to hunt together? How many of them would it take to lift Dirn off the ground?
Shuddering, Dirn swiped on. Spiders. Dirn didn't really have anything against spiders themselves, it was just the shape of a spider that often gave them shivers down their spine.
This was unfortunate, considering about a quarter of the galaxy's intelligent species were "spider-shaped" or "near-spider-shaped".
Speaking of which, Dirn glanced up towards a green glow that entered the side of their vision.
Skittering at their eye level, the last member of their team, a green glowing near-spider-shaped spirit, stepped across a shimmering near-invisible web to take her seat across from Dirn.
Dirn nodded towards Ephemeral, who lifted two of her right legs in a wave towards them.
"Greetings Dirn, how fares your journey?"
"Fair."
Ephemeral's six eyes squeezed in joy. She loved wordplay, to the point where it made Alpha's own obsessions appear reasonable. And even Dirn would admit that when she squeezed her eyes like that, it could accurately be described as "cute".
She raised another leg towards Madeline and Doug's floating display of information.
"Going through the intel? I think they always go a little bit overboard..."
Dirn nodded.
"Would you mind giving me the run down?"
Dirn shook their head. Where to start...
"Have you heard of the spider-birds?"