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A small waiting area/airlock is at the forefront of the Headquarters, complete with a couple of bolted-down couches and some magazine-laden small tables. A holo-screen on the central table cycles through the latest news-briefs, focusing mainly upon the assorted tumultuous dangers of Hiverspace. There is an alloy-reinforced clear polycarbonate wall between the waiting area and the actual room, so one can see what is within without being able to hear it.
Through another airlocked door is a much larger room, split into four sections; the rear left-hand side is the training/workout area, also behind a clear polycarbonate wall so that potential candidates and clients alike can observe the available mercenaries in their natural habitat. Music is usually playing at a boisterous volume, the playlist consisting of bass-thumping, parent-offending, wall-rattling tunes from many eras and planets.
The rear right hand quadrant consists of a mess hall/break area separated from the rest of the room by a chest-high wall. In the forward left corner of the room is the reception desk; just across from that, smoked polycarbonate cubicle walls designate a private area for interviews and consultations. To the right is a sliding door marked "VR Suite," with an LED sign above it indicating whether or not there is a session going on. To the left is a door marked "Captain's Office." In the rear wall, a double door opens to a stairwell and levimodule, leading up to the barracks. Back through the airlock is Sanctuary's Military Hangar.
Ah, dinner time at Red Eclipse Mercenaries. Sort of a cross between an all you can eat buffet and an office party free for all, the piles of food rise in fried meaty goodness in the mess hall and the beers flow freely. It's noisy, jovial, and somewhat messy. At least MOST of the trash makes it to the bin, and anyone who misses is ridiculed for poor aim. Lording over it all is Joca, queen of the murderhoboes, keeping company with a big honking turkey leg and a frosted glass flagon of something amber and fizzy. The more things change, the more they stay the same. It's like a renfaire with replicators.
Apropos of nothing, a small ship about the size of a pack of cards comes flitting in, playing something that sounds vaguely medievally. The volume isn't terribly loud, but there's definitely something in the lyrics about a Robin and running away.
Akamatsu looks to have decided to finally make an appearance here at the new home of REM, coming right on through the doors and taking a look around at the sight. He wears a smirk as he mutters something about discipline and old days for any close enough to catch it. Seems he's not registering the new music much at the moment, however. Once Joca gets into his sights, however, he makes a beeline for her.
Fried meaty goodness is among James Sterling's favourite things. Accordingly he's appropriated a sizeable portion for himself, though not without applying a friendly shoulder or an elbow or two to fellow mercs who threatened to get grabbier than him. His mouth full of food, he motions across the table for somebody to toss him another beer tin.
Jocaira gets elbowed herself, by someone passing who's spotted Aka before she did. Snarfing down the current bite, she washes it down with a hearty swig, ducks the beer tin summarily tossed to James, and flirtatiously waves in the direction of the current ronin. "Hey-yy~, great big dragon," she calls. "Finally come around to see me, ehn? Is it as a free man, or is sis just business?"
The flying soundtrack switches to something both japanese, and whimsical. Otherwise the Moth just continues limping about, buzzing the occasional head.
Akamatsu shakes his head a bit at our resident murderhobo queen, "Always been a free man, Joca, just not in the sense you'd like. So yes, I'd call it a business visit." He looks around a bit and notes, "Always good to see your prospective mercenaries in their natural habitat, isn't it?" He's smiling, so he probably doesn't need to cough up for services at the moment. James, when a he's seen gets a nod of the head from Aka, and that music raises an eyebrow once heard, but he makes no comment.
Sterling deftly snatches the beer tin out of the air as he demolishes another portion of fried meat clutched in his other hand. He waves the beer can at Akamatsu in greeting, starting in surprise as he almost knocks the Moth out of the air with the motion. "Whoah, there, Kilroy," he mumbles around a mouthful of meat. After a moment he swallows and grins at the tiny ship. "Watch yerself, mate," he advises, popping the beer tin open. "Yer gonna get yerself squished." He gestures at the Moth with his beer, managing to slop some of it onto his lap, much to the jeering laughter of his fellows.
Jeers turn to raucous wolf whistles as Joca makes like she's going to go for the spilled beer herself, but apparently there's no free show today as she sits back up and tosses him a towel. "Allo, Monsieur Keelroy," she says, finally noticing the little flying soundtrack maker over the general hub bub. Akamatsu gets a disappointed shrug. "Ahn, to each your own, I guess, but yes, se 'eadquartairs are finished. Nice, ne? Se Capitan was nice enough to let us settle 'ere since we lost se poor Madame Comorreaux. It is still a good neutral place, as much as se Danu Chroi was nice enough to 'ost us in se mean time, it is no place to make a business, non?"
The tiny ship comes to a nice halt well out of the way of projectile booze and flailing arms. "Evening, folks!"
Akamatsu nods at Joca "Yes, I can understand. Would've been happy to host you on Tavros as well, of course, I'm still in charge of such things, after all." The booze spilling seems to illicit little more than a headshake from him as he takes a sip from his own jug.
Sterling laughs at Joca's antics, waggling his eyebrows suggestively and dropping the towel in his beer-soaked lap. He seems content to leave it there for the moment, as he reaches for another helping of deep-fried meat. "Howzit?" he asks Akamatsu before tearing a chunk of meat free with his teeth.
Jocaira purses her lips, thoughtfully. "...we-ell, sat would 'ave been awkward," she finally says, offering up an apologetic smile. "But also we 'ad already, station on se Baile, camp site already in place, and so on. I would not like to impose upon your Lady's lands, even under your generous invitacion?"
Resuming its characteristic flight path, the Moth zips around some more, clearly looking for a relatively safe spot to land amidst the chaos.
Akamatsu almost snorts at Joca as she refers to Tavros as 'His Lady's lands' and replies in kind "Please. My "Lady" hasn't been running those lands in over a year. Barely has the energy to move out of bed, let alone make any decisions." To Sterling he notes "Well, you know. Busy and slow at the same time, nothing exciting but plenty to occupy myself with."
Sterling nods and grins at Aka's response to his question. "S'good!" he opines, then frowns. "She sick or somethin'?"
The corner of Joca's mouth curves upwards, and her tongue flicks across her teeth ever so briefly. "I... see," she says, practically purring. "My... sympathies." It would not be untoward at this point for someone to call bullshit, but nobody does. Nobody in the background, at least. She looks like she could just -kiss- Aka, but manages the self control not to. Instead, she reaches back to give James' arm a squeeze. "Now, now, it is impolite to pry into se business of our bettairs. Se Caryas is in good enough 'ands, for certain." The former statement drips with irony; the latter, genuine.
Somehow the Moth finds a good landing spot, and the speaker folds out for better audio purposes. "Sounds serious."
Akamatsu winces a bit as they all figure out what he meant by the statement and replies "Yeah, probably said a bit too much there. Oh well, it's not like people wouldn't suspect something soon enough anyway, she hasn't made a public appearance in just as long. Yes, she's sick, with what I have no idea, I'm not her doctor and she never bothered to give me details. The long and short of it boils down to the fact that I'm the current acting leader of Caryas." As he talks, he seems to lighten up on the matter a bit, apparently seeing it as less of a big deal than when he started once words start flowing.
Sterling gives Joca an arrogant snort. "I ain't pryin'," he replies. "'S natural t'ask when somebody says somethin' like that." He smirks at her, setting his beer tin down to rest his now-cold fingertips on her arm. He turns back to Aka. "Didn't think anybody with any kinda money'd be comin' down with somethin' that bad."
"Yeeeee, cold!" Joca says, half squealing and half laughing. When she's -not- flailing, however, she makes a little gesture with her free hand: two taps, with the back of her first two fingers against her lips, and then two more taps, other side of the same two fingers on the back of her head. (This is, for those versed in mercenary cant, the hand gesture for 'quiet' as it applies to the present discussion topic.) For those not versed in mercenary cant, maybe she's flipping somebody off behind her or something, because the general background chatter rises back up as though we weren't talking about anything serious at all. While the light in her eyes is fit to blaze up a thousand torches, she keeps her words, if not her tone, respectful. Her tone is somewhere in the range of lottery winning. "I am certain you will do -very- well, Monsieur Akamatsu, and but of course should you need any assistance in your planet's business, you know where to find us, ehn?"
Kilroy chuckles from the ship "And hey, if you need any hotels... removed..."
Akamatsu smirks at Joca, "But, of course. It's been a long time coming, really. I mean, honestly, did you really think Katrin just up and sold REM to you of her own accord? I had to talk her into it." He shrugs a bit, "Maybe I ought to make some kind of public announcement on the matter, really. We've been keeping people in the dark about it, after all." Glancing at Sterling he notes, "Something tells me she hasn't been investing in Alastair's remedies. Some of us that come from simpler times aren't such fans of these new medical practices."
Sterling grins at Joca's response, then reads the gesture and frowns at her. He nods to Aka. "Sure, sure." He returns his attention to his meal and his beer.
Jocaira flicks her tongue across her teeth again. "Ahn, but of course I knew it was your doing, you were clear about sat, and for it you will always 'ave my undying gratitude. You and I, and all of us, knew sat we were not a good fit, but... well, some people don't take sis into consideracion when sinking about what sey -want-. She wanted to buy it when Mastair Diri died, and apparently nevair stopped wanting it. It is fine, Monsieur, you reveal what you choose to reveal, when you choose. It is se least we can do, in exchange for our freedom." The following exhale is a distinct, bull-like snort. "Since you won't accept any other sort of... thanks." It's fairly obvious that the news has the merc boss absolutely -ecstatic-, but she's keeping it polite.
Kilroy comes walking out of his ship and heads over to raid the nearest food receptacle.
Akamatsu chuckles a bit, "Please, don't look so upset, Joca. I mean, she did take some steps a few months back when she was having a pretty good day, maybe she'll be back eventually." He doesn't seem terribly optimistic about those chances, judging by his tone. Though he doesn't appear especially broken up about them either, as he adds, "That said, I have a feeling that I won't stop making a vast majority of the decisions for a long time. So you lot are free to be on my planet at your leisure. If anybody gives you trouble, just send me a message and I'll be sure to come have a chat with them."
Sterling tears into another hunk of fried meat. "Nobody gives /me/ trouble," he grunts, not looking up, "'less 'ey wanna get broken."
"Well, per'aps we will 'ave to make a visit. I 'ave not been, I sink, in a very long while..." Joca says, still failing to make anything she says -not- sound like some kind of come on or innuendo. "Monsieur James, 'owevair, is right. We do not get much in se way of trouble. But it is so very nice to know sat we 'ave your support should we some'ow come to need it in your territore, ne? Ahn! Where are my manners, 'ave you met Monsieur Keelroy? 'e is very leetle man we find when we were out on se Comorreaux. 'e likes to make explosive. It is very funny. Also 'e make leetle music. Also very funny. Monsieur Keelroy, sis is Monsieur Akamatsu, Minister of Defense for Caryas Empire, and acting leader, so exciting."
Kilroy waves up at Aka from between a couple of the food platters. "Evening!"
Akamatsu nods down to the tiny being he's been introduced to and replies, "Evening." To Joca he notes, "Well, notably, you'll still get in trouble if I find anybody 'broken'. Liability and all, you know, just a headache."
Sterling is more involved in his meal than the current conversation, it would seem, as he doesn't so much as look up when Joca mentions his name. The beer tin crinkles slightly in his hand as he drains the last of its contents.
Jocaira gives a small moue of disappointment. "Ahn, now, you know we do not get into fights -casually-. Anysing sat 'appens would be purely in se self-defense, and we would keep se collateral damage to se absolute minimum." There is a shameless application of puppy dog eyes here.
Kilroy whistles innocently as he plucks a few more food bits onto his plate.
Akamatsu rolls his eyes a bit and replies to her, "Just don't make me go an file extra paperwork if you don't need to."
Sterling stretches languidly, arching his back and leaning his head over the back of his chair for a moment before straightening again. "Nothin' like a belly fulla meat," he declares, slouching and folding his hands over his stomach. As he does so, he notices the towel in his lap and uses it to dab at the spilled beer on his jeans. "Paperwork," he intones, putting on a grave tone, "the bane of all desk-jockeys."
Jocaira claps her hands briefly, uttering a little 'yay'. "But of course, we will do our best to make sure you will no 'ave to make se papierwork, because it is bad," she says, still keeping the 'sultry kitten' turned up to eleven. Sultry, murderous kitten. "Feel free to eat some of our food, sere is plenty, and if nussing 'ere strikes your fancy we 'ave delivery from most of se establishment on station." Casually, she hikes a leg up and hoists herself up to sit on James' table, seemingly remembering with a small squeak of glee that she's still got some beer left. "'ave you been to se new place? You want to look around, maybe? Whatevair you like, our 'ouse is your 'ouse."
Kilroy wanders back towards his ship with a plate heaped with a miniscule amount of foodstuffs. He pauses for a moment, muttering something about explosions, but just shakes his head and carries on.
Akamatsu smirks a bit and replies, "No, can't say that I've seen much of the place, pretty easy to find you guys, though. Just follow the noise." He says all this as he goes to grab a bit of fried meat of some form or another, looks to be at least similar to chicken.
Sterling looks up when Joca appears on the table. He flashes her a lazy yet lecherous grin as he gathers the somewhat beer-soaked towel and drops it on the table in front of him.
Jocaira picks up the somewhat beer soaked towel and leans over to dab unsubtly at the other merc's pants. "You missed a spot," she teases, and then glances over her shoulder, watching Aka gather food with catly approval. "Mmwell, you eat, you eat, enjoy, and you let us know when you want a tour, ne? Feel free to rest in our barrack if you need, too."
Kilroy smirks at Joca's antics before sitting back against his ship to enjoy what may or may not be space chicken.
Sterling leans back in his chair again and continues to grin at Joca as she makes sure all the spilt beer is absorbed. That is what she's doing, isn't it?
Yes, that's all Joca's doing, mostly, although it's abundantly clear that -somebody-'s gonna be getting the rewards of tonight's good news, since the faithful ronin doesn't want it. All that joy's gotta go somewhere. Oo-er. As soon as said ronin's out of earshot she bursts into an absolute cascade of musical, joyful giggles, which are brought under control soon enough with a few sputtering chugs of what remains of her beer. "Aaaahn, phew. What a good night sis turned out to be."
Kilroy takes a large bit of mystery former animal protein while he reaches into a pocket for a remote that, with a quick button press, changes the music coming out to some cheezy saxaphone music.
Sterling hooks an arm around Joca's waist and tugs her off the edge of the table and into his not-quite-so-beer-soaked lap, his baritone chuckle providing a curious accompaniment to her laughter. He lazily leans his head over toward Kilroy. "Now cut that out," he admonishes, grinning foolishly at the tiny ship's pilot.
Jocaira is set off into fresh gales of amusement by the cheesy music, and things just get worse when James pulls her into his lap. It's all whee and squee and giggle and hee, until she's reduced to burying her face in James' shoulder and just hopelessly, hopelessly laughing. "Pfffff, is like se porn," she wheezes.
Kilroy snickers as he kills the music. "That sound system is surprisingly well equipped."
Sterling's booming laughter joins Joca's, and he wraps his arms around her and hangs his head over her shoulder, holding on as if for dear life until the collective mirth subsides. He lifts one hand and brushes the back of it across his eyes. "Oh God," he chokes out, squinting his eyes shut, "'well-equipped'!" He breaks down into more helpless laughter.
There is a muffled whee of laughter, like the last bits of steam escaping from a teapot, as Joca recovers from one innuendo and falls face first into the next. She manages to get a hold of herself long enough to blurt, "Sat's what she said!" before once more dissolving into hilarity. Classy. So very, very classy.
Kilroy snickers a bit between bites of space chicken.
Eventually Sterling's laughter runs out of steam and he sits there, his forehead on Joca's shoulder, his breath coming in laboured gasps.
Jocaira wipes at her watering eyes with her sleeve. "...wow," she finally says, wheezing. "Sat, sat was a good one. Bravo. Phew. I can no see straight. Oh my gods... so... funnee."
Kilroy chuckles. "Glad I could help."
Sterling slowly lifts his head. "Yer tellin' me," he manages to say, his voice quiet. "I think I mighta pulled somethin'." He pokes experimentally at his ribs.
Jocaira nods, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment before wiping at them again and gesturing for someone to toss her a beer. There is a moment or two of slightly ungraceful juggling before she gets the can under control. She ponders it for a few moments before setting it carefully on the table, thereby avoiding unleashing any more hilarity at the table. For the time being. "So, anyways, sis is good coup for us, if we can add Tavros to places where we can walk freely. It's pretty big, from what I remembair, and guards everywhere... apparently sey displaced some kind of native people and at one point se Madame leader sere kept getting kidnapped. Like idiot."
Kilroy blinks a couple times, forgetting about the chicken he was about to eat. "...doesn't sound like much of a leader."
Sterling manages to watch the beer can juggling without starting to laugh again. "Never been there," he says of Tavros. "The natives kidnapped 'er 'cos she kicked 'em off their land?"
Jocaira just shrugs. "I don't know, I only 'eard a little of it. When sey went to settle sere sey found se natives, and sere was some ridiculous drama wis boys sat she tried to make a war wis se Danu ovair, of all sings, and sen she got kidnapped, or somesing, and sen sey build se big city wis se big walls and somebody blew a 'ole in se wall and kidnapped 'er -again-... Monsieur T'omas went wis se group to go get 'er; I sink she sought 'e was going to get back wis 'er but 'e didn't, 'e just went you know to be able to shoot people. Pfff. And sat's just se two times I know about. Damn if I know why noble women get kidnapped. It's just what sey do."
Kilroy finishes that bite of chicken he was getting to, and manages to find the old standard sad trombone noise on that remote.
Sterling shakes his head, chuckling at Kilroy's sound effect. "Sounds like too much trouble t'me."
"Most noble women are. She come from, what is it, se Fast'eld? So it is say, closer to my time and place sen 'ere would be. I mention sis once, when I 'ad misfortune to try and be in a meeting wis 'er, and she take me to task, 'ow -dare- I assume I know anysing about 'er? 'ow very dare I? And it is just like bitch all I said was what kind of time she was from, sere's fucking nussing to -assume-. I don't know what she wanted wis owning us to begin wis, usser sen it was somesing to own," Joca says, also sparing the sad trombone noise a chuckle but looking annoyed. "Woman 'as been terrible thorn in my side since I get 'ere. And I know se temptation is very strong to roll around in 'er misfortune and toss it everywhere but for Monsieur Aka's sake, is why I call for some quiet for it. 'e may not be one of my boys any more but we owe 'im our freedom from sat woman. Considering she fired 'er science officer for not wanting to marry 'er, and forced Monsieur T'omas to marry 'er when 'e wouldn't, took 'is business and 'is ship away from 'im too... well, just imagine what it would 'ave been like?"
Kilroy stares at that remote for a minute "Alright, you got me. I can't think of a single sound that would be funny now."
Sterling makes a face. "What a headcase," he declares. "It wouldn't've been pretty. But I reckon enough of us'd be cross enough t'take matters inta our own hands." He chuckles darkly and grins at Joca.
Jocaira grins a little bit. "Oh, I 'ad sings in motion, but of course. We get on se news, very poignant, just seeking some freedom aftair our founder dies so tragically... It was not 'ard at all to find people she 'ad made enemies of, people she 'ad made poor impressions upon. Everywhere she burn a bridge, I was sere to build a new one. Before I know it I get summoned to se Orion Defense Secretaire office, 'e wants to invest in se buy out. Se Danu Chroi, but of course sey invest. I even get investment from 'er ex-'usband, Monsieur T'omas, which was very funny because it was 'er money settled in se divorce sat 'e give me. So, all sese allies, I 'ave, sen I take 'er ex-'usband to bed, and sen I take 'er Minister of Defense to bed, after 'e sign se REM back over to me. Bitch would not 'ave stood se chance." Her tongue flicks across her teeth. "I do not sink aftair all sat what I 'assume' about 'er was wrong. I know exactly 'ow to deal wis 'er kind. And now, it seems, I may see se end game aftair all, wisout 'aving any blood on my 'ands."
With that gripping monologue complete, Kilroy finally finds what would've been some great dramatic music for it, rising in tempo at all the right places. But the monologue's over, so there's not much point now.
"Eh, that may be neat, but not as much fun." Sterling slouches a bit in his chair, resting one hand on Joca's waist. "Though you sure got her good, didn't ya? Ironic where the money came from, eh?"
Jocaira very casually rubs her left temple with her left middle finger in Kilroy's general direction, but one doesn't need any kind of mercenary cant knowledge to figure out what -that- one means. Just in case there's a cultural barrier, she follows it up with a very mature tongue-sticky-outy face. "But yes, I got 'er good. I almost bagged se poor fellow who was going to marry 'er before 'e found about all 'er drama but ehn 'e was all -vulnerable- and I would 'ave felt like a vulture." She leans back, waving a finger at James. "And sometimes, when you 'ave to take down a big target, se process is not always 'fun'. Alsough really most of sis was great fun. If se Musser Nature wants to 'elp me along, but of course I will appreciate. As much as I would love to choke se breath from 'er personally, sat would be much more trouble for our Monsieur Aka, and even sough 'e 'as gone *shudder* monogamous I am still very fond of se boy."
Kilroy yawns "I better find a good spot to park for the night."
Sterling spreads his hands. "Yeh, alright, y'got a point." He cracks his knuckles ostentatiously. "I jus' like t'fight," he says. He glances to Kilroy. "Don't yawn - yer gonna make me yawn," he complains, yawning through the last few words of the sentence. He grins at Joca. "Think we laughed ourselves outta energy, eh?"
Jocaira purses her lips. "Mmmmno, I'm not sleepy at all... but, if you are tired, I can always share my 'appiness at se good news wis somebody el-se..."
Kilroy climbs back into the ship, that sax music starting back up as he does.
A startled look crosses Sterling's face for a brief moment. "Reckon if I c'n get away from the walkin' yawn factory over there, I might wake up again." He jerks his head toward the Moth, flashing the tiny ship a wink.
"Shoo, shoo leetle man and your leetle silly music," Joca says, doing her starlet dismount from James and the chair, and putting a saunter on towards her office.
A faint snicker comes out of the ship's speaker as it lifts off, the music dying off entirely for now. Once more, the Limping Moth makes an erratic flight to who knows where. It'll be a corner that's not prone to being stepped on though.
Sterling climbs out of the chair the moment Joca leaves it, following on after his boss. He turns around to walk backward, grinning at the Moth, then continues after Joca.