Evangeline slides the mesh door of the elevator closed and selects one of the dull green buttons for the correct level. The hydraulic systems once again lurch into life, shifting the occupants awkwardly as it does so. The assembly sinks towards the base of the frigate before stopping at the lowest level. A noticeable gap of silence on Evangeline's part is broken once the elevator reaches its' destination.
The plan... the plan is we find out just what they're going to do with Vixen and the moment they look like hurting her we shoot the ever-loving snot outta them.
I hope you know how to kill people, Bret.
Evangeline, in her true style, does her best to erect an aura of dominance over the situation - with varying degrees of success. She haughtily swaggers down the myriad of assorted passageways linking the bowels of the haphazardly assembled vessel until she reaches the interior side of the airlock. A control panel on the wall allows command of a simple grabbing arm array which permits the precision alignment of the catwalk's air-tight tubing from the safety of the ship's interior.
Evangeline donates an amount of the Working Girl's compressed air supply to pressurise the exterior airlock assembly, finally permitting access between the two craft without immediate danger. The final barrier, the Working Girl's internal blast door, remains locked tight as Evangeline awaits the arrival of her least-trusted guests aboard the vessel. The small porthole window offers a preview of the new arrivals.
As Evangeline stands proudly before the blast door, an unknown figure approaches behind Bret from beyond the unlit innards the salvager - Bret's senses detecting the new, near-silent presence immediately.
*With a quick turn of his body, his arm changes back into its cannon form, pointing the barrel straight at the unknown person behind them...A sharp hum sounds off as Bret glares at the strange person* Bret: You honestly think you can sneak up behind me with ears like this?..You got another thing coming to yah... *Bret growls a little as he keeps his left arm out, letting Eva take control of the situation* Bret: And to answer your question Eva, I promised myself there would be only one person I would ever kill...I can make exceptions though..
-"If we do not learn at least one thing a day....Our minds turn to stupor"- Kyle Sparrgrove -2005
A tall, gallant young woman of Kusarian descent featuring waist-length, jet-black hair coldly glares at Bret from behind the shadows, her steel-blue eyes piercing right through his persona.
She stands upright and proud, a heavy gauge rifle propped up against her right shoulder blade. If not for the attention-demanding firearm in her grasp, she would exude the aura of a traditional Kusarian shrine maiden.
If my intentions were to harm you, I would have had no need to get this close... non-human.
I believe we've never been formally introduced. Know that my task is to serve Miss. McDowell.
She proudly strutted past Bret and took her place beside Evangeline as the shorter Bretonian intently waited the arrival of her undesirable guests; the womans' long, flowing hair waving deftly in the still, unbroken air of the salvage frigate.
A shudder ran through the airlock as it slid open just a fraction, the pressure levelled between the two ships. A slight amount of mist slipped through the gap, slithering across the floor before the metal doors opened entirely, dumping a whole new layer of cold white fog out of the airlock chamber.
Within, only one figure stood, clad in black, porcelain-esque armor plates that joined smoothly over the underlying flight suit, obviously custom designed for the person. Their face remained hidden behind a matching black mask which gave no indication of the wearer, hiding their face entirely.
The figure stepped forward, her swagger almost definately female. Behind her, the airlock seemed to hold from closing, staying open for another ten seconds before it finally shut. She looked at the three figures ahead of her, remaining silent, arms folded. After a moment, she scuffed a foot on the floor.
"So..." she started, her voice seeming strangely familiar underneath the helmet. "You're the infamous Eva McDowell. And you must be Bret..." Tilting to the side to look behind them, she made a small 'huh' sound. "So where's V-1103? I thought she's the reason I was sent down here in the first place."
A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.
"Huh. Pet indeed" the woman chuckled, adjusting her stance slightly. "You do know she belongs to us legally, right?...Oh well. We want to run tests. Physical examinations. Gene samples, brainwave scans, blood and tissues samples. All the data we were deprived when the Gaia station got done over."
Around them, the mist continued to swirl and twist, as if something still moved within the knee-high clouds.
A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.
In much the same way a cat puffs itself up when threatened, Evangeline boasted a tough exterior, haughtily staring down her unwanted guest in the place its eyes would be were they visible. I think you'll find she belongs to the man who put a ring on her finger. I'm sure you know what that means.
You have my permission to do what you must but you will not remove her from my ship.
However with that said the final word still rests with her lesser half.
Evangeline opens the floor to Bret whilst keenly eyeing off her self-proclaimed opponent.
The figure raised a hand, stopping the conversation. "Wait. How the heck are we supposed to do anything if she stays onboard? We can't exactly bring a research station through the damn airlock."
She looked to both sides of the small group, then directly at them. "We'll take her to our mobile lab, do the tests and send her right back here."
A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.
*Bret simply glares as he shifts the position of his arm from the Kusari woman to the man in question, not giving an inch as he keeps his eyes locked onto him* Bret: As Eva said..She's not leaving the ship...ANd the only reason I haven't shot you already is due to the fact you stated my wife might be in a sense of danger, something I do to the best of my abilities to make sure of..So start talkin..
-"If we do not learn at least one thing a day....Our minds turn to stupor"- Kyle Sparrgrove -2005
Shifting her faceless stare to Bret, the figure sighed. "You're not a gene splicer. You wouldn't understand it. I've told you all you'll comprehend...Its your decision."
Looking down at her wrist, at a small screen, she smiled to herself, hidden behind the black glass. And they haven't even asked who I am yet...
A million dollars isn't cool. You know what is cool? A basilisk.
![[Image: DatAssSig.gif]](http://i300.photobucket.com/albums/nn23/beyer_garratt/Discovery%20Freelancer/DatAssSig.gif)
![[+]](/forums/images/collapse_collapsed.png "[+]")
