Aftermath

[Omicron]

Hitomi Suzuki, one of the GC’s chosen representatives, arrived at Ames station. Her ship, as well as the few chosen escorts were an assortment of completely random, albeit well maintained fighter crafts one would normally find all across Sirius. The Outcasts had seemingly rented a good part of the station to house the visitors and house the actual conference. After a mandatory security check upon arrival, Zoners had waived them though and let them to enjoy hospitality of their Outcast hosts.

Their uniforms were much like their ships, outlet for individuality without any specific coherence. Only the fact that they were exclusively women and incorporated the distinct Kusari fashion and opulence they could afford from being higher up in the cardamine supply chain separated them from the motley of Xenos and Rogues warbands that frequented this station. The Hispanics in comparison were much more rigid and disciplined, whereas Lane Hackers were more professional - The unmistakable feeling of dealing with not an organized criminal group but with a fixer of a megacorp was no doubt calculated as a PR move on their part.

Hitom wore a flight suit that doubled as an armor with lightweight, Kusari-stylized plates fitted to protect vital areas. Weak points and flexible sections such as joints were covered up in cloth and accessories and flower-patterned tunic formed the uppermost layer. Entire left arm from shoulder to glove was bleached bloody red with simpler decoration. Her bodyguards were exclusively armed in short-range weaponry: shotguns, snub-nosed energy weapons, carbines and other similar pieces plundered or smuggled from Detroit or more exotic locations such as Akabat, Jiangxi or New Paris light arms manufacturing plants.

“Hopefully we will not have to wait long. Such meetings tend to drag on and there are luxury goods Samura convoys waiting to be plundered.” Her accent was strangely Libertonian, and she herself did not look to be of pure Kusarian descent.

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