house of your friendly local accomplice (part CXL)

(Roleplay entry. Continued from part CXXXIX.)

The ship flew through the dark, quiet and still. The two aboard watched Tannhauser Gate station approach. It seemed quiet. Peaceful.

Easy prey.

"Tannhauser Gate station, this is SS Kthanid on approach, requesting docking clearance."

"Acknowledged, Kthanid. Please send through your flight plan, cargo manifest and crew complement."

Justine watched the details of the incoming ship in one part of her feed, while directing the cleaning and repair crews in the Nuclear and Plasma Cores. The fire suppression systems had made a mess of everything, and several redundant wire harnesses had to be replaced, but for the most part they'd been lucky.

"Kthanid, this is Tannhauser Gate Control. You are cleared for landing in Hangar Bay 2. Transmitting docking transceiver frequency now."

"Acknowledged, Control."

=====

"Welcome to Tannhauser Station."

Inside the visiting ship, Weats turned to Oz. "You're sure they're in there?"

Oz nodded, pulling the lollipop past his writhing face tendrils. "Mmhmm. The auguries were clear. There's a girl. High status. We will know her by The Marks upon her skin. She has them."

=====

"Commander, this is Control. The captain of the SS Kthanid has requested to see you. They're waiting in Security."

"Acknowledged, on my way." Justine thumbed the comm. "Rusty, can you meet me at Security on Level 1?"

"You bet!" came the reply.

=====

Coming out of the lift, Justine and Rusty headed towards security.

"What is this all about?" Rusty asked, hurrying to keep up.

"Not sure. Ship arrived earlier and they asked to see me." Turning the corner, Justine gasped, stumbling against the wall.

"What is it?" Rusty asked, reaching out to steady her.

Justine replied through gritted teeth, "Tattoos...burning...aaahhh!" Catching her breath, she straightened, "It's okay...let's go." But with every step the burning, itching sensation on her belly, back and legs increased. Arriving at the security desk they were directed to an interview room where the visitors were waiting.

By the time they got to the interview room, Justine was pasty white, a thin sheen of sweat on her face. The burning had subsided to a dull, mostly ignorable ache. When she saw the visitors, her discomfort became a little more understandable. Roughly humanoid, the newcomers had green-black skin, facial tendrils and four arms a piece. One of them was incongruously wearing a frog onesie. Justine rubbed her eyes and looked back. Yes. A frog onesie. But other than that, they looked like a picture she’d seen in a book in the Gearhaven library at one point. Something-thrid? She wasn't sure, she couldn’'t think, the burning of the tattoos was making any thought difficult, and the sound of distant screams was very distracting. Four flat, expressionless eyes locked on her as they walked in, and their face tendrils began to twitch excitedly.

"What can I do for you?" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Not what you can do for us," one hissed, "what we can do for you?"

Justine leaned heavily on the wall, making a mental note to have the screaming sounds investigated. "Yeah? And what's that?"

"We hear you have an...infestation. We can help clean that up for you."

Justine looked over at Rusty, then narrowed her eyes at him. Did he always have face tendrils? And why did he look so pained?

Shaking her head, she turned back to the visitors, and slurring her words a little, she said, "Let’s say we do have an issue you could help us with. What do you want in return?"

Frog-onesie replied with what appeared to be their version of a smile, an expression that was the opposite of reassuring in any way. "Not much, not much. We need some repair parts for our ship, resupply..."



It trailed off and the more somberly dressed of the two finished, fixing its opaque gaze on her. "And an hour alone with you."

Next to her, Rusty giggled. "I can watch?"

Justine put a hand to her forehead. "No...wait..." Something was wrong here, but she wasn't sure what. "You can get rid of the things in the station? All of them?"



"Absolutely."

Rusty leaned down to whisper excitedly in Justine's ear, "I can help, I have my thing...the music thing..."

She looked up at him. "Oh yeah, your thing. Cool. Yeah. You can help too."

She turned back to the visitors. Nothing was wrong. This made perfect sense, and it would be fine. "Deal. Let's do this."

Again, the eerie not-smile. "Of course."



Justine flicked the visitor’s supply and equipment request to the station quartermaster. Her head was pounding. The ride to Level 8 seemed to take forever. Once there the visitors commenced pouring fire power into the eggs and tentacles that had continued to spread. Rusty summoned his musical energy weapon and added his power to theirs.



The air filled with a fingernails-on-blackboard screeching that crescendoed in a spray of sparks and foul-smelling tentacle bits.



When the smoke cleared, the three of them stood there, the decks clear of tentacles and eggs. Justine looked up from her hiding place to see one of the visitors reach down and grab her by the arm. "Who are you?"

"I am the Mind Flayer, small thing, and now you are going to return what is mine."

(Continued in part CXLI.)