trans_9 | When in rome [Semi-open]

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When in rome [Semi-open]

The mission briefing was short and sweet. Planet Epicurea, breathable air, drinkable water, food that wouldn't melt your stomach, matriarchical society unusually fond of procedure and posturing. The plan was to find an object of interest (description helpfully provided by the ship), negotiate for it, then return to the rendezvous coordinates before Stacy decided to leave without them. So simple, only three crew members would be assigned to carry out the mission.

Anwei Ayles, whose negotiation skills and extensive experience dealing with alien races (especially slightly snooty ones) would no doubt prove eminently useful for the delicate nature of the bargaining that would take place,

Howard Bassem, whose intrinsic understanding of diplomacy and unorthodox means of obtaining information would smooth over any rough edges (and maybe help grease the wheels a little behind the scenes), and last of all --

[ooc -- Anyone's free to barge in during the first subthread ("Mission Briefing") if they like, the rest of the post is only Anwei, Howard, and Zouichi :) ]

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"This thing steers like a brick," Anwei muttered, her fingers flickering over the liquid-light display as she dropped the shuttle from orbit and headed for the Epicurea spaceport zone. "A pregnant brick."

This was true; the entire rear section of the shuttle was filled with vast transparent sacks of Stacy-slop, which shifted and slithered ominously as the shuttle moved. It was rather like being inside Stacy, for that matter. The sensation of imminent suffocation was the same.

"No remote broadcast systems that I can detect, so hopefully no one here can lock us out of the system - right!" She set the engines into cool-down (as opposed to shutdown) and tapped her finger on the time display. "We have this many hours to get the trade made before Stacy leaves."

"When we return sans nutrient place, perhaps they'll be a little more responsive." And maybe the shuttle would be a little less claustrophobic. He wasn't particularly worried about the timeline cutoff -- how difficult could it be to trade off some food?

Zouichi took off his comm ring, placing it in one of the smaller shuttle compartments. No high technology allowed, though that bothered him considerably less than the unusually light feeling at his side. He glanced over to his side, hoping Howard didn't have a finicky gag reflex.

Even if he were susceptible to motion sickness, Howard's gag reflex has mostly been dampened by his time in the FAYZ spent eating all sorts of unappetizing things. He gazes out the window, taking note of the layout of the city and as they get closer to the Earth, the people. They can't all possibly be that tall and skinny, can they? It must be an optical illusion.

He sets the timer on the watch he'd kiped from The City and taps at the console, bringing up a basic description of Epicurea's inhabitants and dress style. Very Important Persons tend to wear ridiculously flouncy outfits, it seems. "We need to blend, probably. Stacy gave us some credits. Anwei, you should probably hang back while I do that, since I'm betting dignitaries don't usually buy their own fancy dresses. Whip up some measurements and I can tailor it if it's a bit off, but it looks like no one will be able to notice under all those ruffles."

He starts snickering as he pulls up the 'bodyguard' profile. "Hey, Zou. You're gonna be pretty."

Anwei felt the muscles in the back of her neck go a little tight at the sight of the passerby. It was - unsettlingly like Fle, her homeworld. Although at least on her world, everything in sight would not have been encrusted with gems, mirrors, and glitter.

The spires of the city glittered; glitter shone on the faces of the people walking behind the spaceport's windows (women always leading, heads high; men walking behind them with eyes lowered), and glitter was painted in patterns on the wings of the large reptiles sitting on top of the spaceport building. Scavengers? Local color? No; one of them took off and she could see the jeweled bridle around its bill, and the tiny figures on its back. Draft animals.

Anwei slipped off her jacket and ran her hands through her pockets, pulling out a steel haircomb, a sewing kit, and a box of hard candy. She quickly used a length of thread to measure herself, marking with knots in the thread. Zouichi got a piece of thread to do the same.

She looked at the passerby, long and lean, and sighed. "Howard, we're going to need a silver platter and some fancy cups, for slop samples. Spoons too. And get me," she winced, "the tallest hat you can find."

Zouichi sighed as he knotted off his measurements, following Anwei's lead. He could only imagine what kind of clothes would be required for this particular mission. Ruffly naval outfits? Loincloths? Ridiculous robes?

"What do you mean 'pretty'?" he asked, regarding Howard with more than a little suspicion. Howard plus sudden enthusiasm probably equaled trouble.

Howard nods quickly, remembering everything Anwei lists. "Tupperware, too. And don't complain about the hats - me, I'm looking for a hoverpad so I can still be part of the action."

Not really. If staying low keeps him on the sidelines and out of trouble, he'll fully abuse that advantage.

"I mean you're going to be dressed up like a French fetish-gear costume - holy crap, are those dinosaurs?" Howard moves from pointing at the outfit on the screen to suddenly being pressed up against the window, incredulous. "No one told me we were going to Jurassic Park!"

"Classy Tupperware. And if not a hoverpad, then hovershoes. Or just stilts," she said, pointing to two young girls whose long lower limbs were clearly out of proportion to their torsos; multicolored ribbons fluttered at their every stride, and a small flock of men raced at their heels, trying to keep them from falling.

Anwei was regretting the matriarchal nature of this society, and her duty to stand at the front as a result. She hated doing this sort of thing. Was Stacy mocking her or something?

"They're riding animals, apparently. Ground traffic too," pointing to two great low-slung beasts whose backs were a crest of glittering (of course) spikes; there were saddles at their necks, with riders. "But I don't think we can fit one in the shuttle to bring back with us. Sorry."

Oh, of course, a French feti--wait, what?

Zouichi dropped the thread, moved to look at the console Howard had abandoned. He paled as he absorbed the image displayed there, then turned to where Howard was plastered to the window. His expression was one of a Synthetic Human who has died a little inside.

"No."

"Is there such a thing as classy Tupperware?" Howard wonders out loud, wincing as he sees one of the young girls go toppling over. She may be caught by the crowd, but it still looks like it hurts.

"Probably can't afford a dinosaur to ride on, unless the exchange rate is like, ridiculous in their marketplace. Why the hell would we want to bring one back? Don't you remember that scene where they tie the T-Rex down on the ship and the guy's like, 'where's the crew?' and the other guy's like, 'everywhere' and there's a hand on the nav wheel and...whatever, dinosaurs aren't cuddly," he rambles, mostly to himself, because honestly dinosaurs just walking around are pretty scary. Aside from the fact that some of them probably eat people, there's also the fact that some of them are as big as houses. Howard has a healthy respect for things that can kill you with an accidental tap.

He looks back at Zouichi with a dead-serious expression. "Yes." Then he breaks out into a grin again. "Don't worry, I'll bring you back something to stuff your bra with."

"Well, small Tupperware. Opalescent? Oh, just get something with glitter on it," she groused. There was so much glitter on this planet that she could actually see it in the dust blowing across the spaceport - or maybe that was just mica.

"I suspect that as honored alien visitors, who may or may not be able to trade delicacies for a certain Orb, we'll be offered a ride at some point. Just keep your back straight and hang on with your knees."

She looked at the projected outfit, then looked at Zouichi. "It's a lot less revealing than a certain vine dress I wore," she pointed out. "And at least you don't have bare legs."

Zouichi does not absorb this talk about Tupperware or dinosaurs at all. None of it mattered. Not when --

"I do not need to stuff my bra!"

Wait, no, that wasn't right. "...Turn this shuttle around."

"Stacy has given the RSVP, hasn't she? They're expecting us?" Howard goes back to the console to look up that information. "Oh, cool. Five...tumbleweed?...hotel. Either way, looks like we're covered for where to sleep, at least."

"Three beds, even, so it won't even be too awkward as long as Lady Godiva over there isn't still bitching about his costume." He tilts his head at Zouichi and rolls his eyes. "Oh, come on, Zou. Is your manliness really that threatened?"

"I'd rather sleep in the shuttle," she muttered. Stay close to your method of retreat. "But as honored guests, we must of course delight in all that we are offered."

Three beds; very thoughtful. It could have been one bed and a pad on the floor for the males.

"I don't think that Stacy will understand you declining to proceed on the mission because of the length of your skirt. I would prefer you to be with us for protection, as that does seem to be your most likely reason for being chosen to come along."

"Turn this shuttle around."

Actually, the thought occurs to Zouichi that if he can figure out the controls, he can turn it around himself and then they can head back to the ship and he will not have to wear that... maid uniform.

So he marches to the console, and starts looking around for the right buttons to punch. Nope, that one ejected a funny compartment with what look like alien stethoscopes. And that one brought up a picture of some kind of Colosseum.

"What the hell are you doing?" Howard shrieks as he moves to block Zouichi from punching more buttons. "No way are you getting me a Violation from Crazy Stacy just because you don't want to wear that outfit, Zouichi. No way in hell. You're not screwing all of us over because of this."

Not that Howard wouldn't mind aborting the mission, but Stacy is scary, and he'd rather not be disappeared or tortured or whatever just because Zouichi won't play dress-up.

"Zouichi. Stop." That came out with a colder snap than she liked; the voice she would use addressing, not a friend, but a servant. Or something lower.

I'm not even off this shuttle and already I'm acting like an owner, she told herself disgustedly.

"Zouichi," she'd try to start over, "please. It's a bit of cloth, that's all. It's a disguise to let you penetrate the enemy camp. You'll wear it, and I'll wear something just as ridiculous I imagine, and we'll do the mission and leave and never, ever see these people again. What do you care what they think of your disguise? It isn't you."

What a manly shriek Howard has. But Zouichi does stop pressing buttons at random, slowly bringing his arms back to his sides. He sits back down, looking dejected.

Anwei is right. He understands. It's for the mission.

So why didn't the ship pick someone else as the third member of the team?! It's not like there aren't any other crew members perfectly capable of performing this exact same role.

He knew why. The ship hated him.

It's called puberty, Zouichi. Which you don't get to have for five years, you lucky bastard.

There's almost a trace of sympathy in his voice, although admittedly he's glad he's not the only one desperately unhappy to be here. He's just glad Anwei was capable of talking Zouichi down. "Look, this sucks. None of us want to do this. But let's just do it, get in, get out, and pretend this never happened. None of us even brought cameras."

Unless Stacy's recording this, which wouldn't be surprising. "And I'll even not make fun of you about it."

He pauses, biting his lip.

"Much."

She dropped her head and stared at the shuttle's scraped metal floor. "Look, if there was a way that I could do this on my own, I would. But Stacy sent all three of us, so she must have calculated that three of us are needed to succeed.

"I don't know if you can believe this, but I'm going to hate wearing a hat and bossing you two around. I'm going to hate it a lot. And Howard's right, we just get the Orb, bring it back, get a hero's welcome and then put this all behind us."

Thanks for that last cut, Howard. Maybe he ought to be made to wear a little skirt as well.

Zouichi is unresponsive right now. He is incommunicado. When the wheels start turning again, he'll have committed himself to the mission at all cost, and then he'll return to the ship and never think of this again.

Please feel free to make your plans without his input, Anwei and Howard.

"Or she wanted to get rid of all three of us," Howard says with a shit-eating grin that's jarringly out of place with his bitter tone. "And I'm going to hate everything about this, so we're all even. Let's try and beat the clock, even. The sooner we do this, the sooner we go home and live to do Stacy's grocery shopping on another planet."

Bring it, Anwei. Howard has no pride.

Anwei picked up the thread from the carpet and finished measuring the stolid Zouichi, then handed both threads to Howard.

"Do not get them mixed up," she warned him. "Get something for yourself, and the lowest shoes you can find for all of us; we may need to run. Get what we need and come back and - be careful. I'd come with you, but," she looked at Zouichi, "etiquette forbids that I move around without proper attire."

And etiquette can go hang, her expression suggested.

The she smiled at him, and spoke softer. "And if there's any change to speak of left over, keep it. You can be my accountant. You'll be in a better position to use it than I will."

"Yup. Wouldn't want broken ankles." He pockets the threads in his cargo shorts, along with the credits. "I'll try not to blow it all on soda and popsicles."

He chews on a hangnail until they touch down.

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When in rome [Semi-open]

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