...All Alone in the Night...

[onemorebounty]

*A gleaming golden speck in the vast night of a system with few planets, Samus' ship glides through silent space, its destination visible ahead as a tiny point of light which, for all their speed, has grown in only the tiniest increments. From a pinpoint it grew to a scintillating pearl, and from there to a globe at the heart of a shining spider-

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[conciergelionne]

The docking bay is utilitarian; functional for a variety of ships of a similar size to Samus', both for docking and repairs. There are various tools stowed in various places, either in clear-doored cabinets or on robotic limbs currently tucked against the walls and ceiling. Some of them might be weapons. Labels are in a variety of languages, the prevailing being GalStan West and none of them being English. The air isn't so much sterile smelling as bland, although most things are after a decontamination shower. Everything is in good repair and clean, but the color scheme was clearly decided by committee (in other words, it manages to be bland to the senses of every species known to the Federation).

The being waiting by the door is decidedly not committee-approved. She appears to be human, although her coloring... well, space. Humans are renowned for going out and dancing. The clothes she wears might be a uniform, although the lack of visible weapons should put to rest any concerns she's military. Her eyes are following the group as they disembark, and Telrim might catch her with one corner of her mouth quirked up, although her expression is schooled when she realizes Samus can see her.

Once Issek is away from the elevator, Aurora approaches, stopping more than arm's reach away to place her right hand on her chest and bow slightly. "Hunter Aran, honored guests, please allow me to welcome you to Obichen Outpost. I am Aurora Lionne, your concierge for your visit."

((New account because fuck typos.))

[onemorebounty]

*Samus' step is easy as she crosses the bay to their welcoming committee; the gravity in her ship is set about ten percent heavier than Earth standard, which makes the bay seem lighter by comparison. Her smile is broad, and she restrains a chuckle with some effort at the formality.*

Ms. Lionne, is it? Well, it's good to see you again, in any case. Allow me to introduce my guests; Telrim, in Natasha, and Issek, in... I'm sorry, I haven't been introduced to his host. Telrim, Issek, I've known Aurora for her whole life--you can trust her as you trust me.

*She reflects on the events of the past day, and amends that statement slightly.*

More, probably.

[in_the_cracks]

Yeerks are quite comfortable with utilitarian. Telrim takes note of the general good repair and orderliness and assigns a modicum more respect to whoever's responsible. Most of her attention, however, goes to their welcoming party, and the way she and Samus address each other. She nods politely to Aurora when named, glad to have Samus set the form of their introduction. It's not the one she'd have chosen, but she suspects the hunter might rather insist on honesty. Better to go along with it than start an awkward discussion.

"Taxxon names are incomprehensible to most other species," she says, excusing Issek. For that matter, Taxxons aren't very expressive with anything more than fear or hunger. By way of greeting, Issek raises his upper body and flicks a curious tongue in Aurora's direction, observing her curiously.

"Greetings." A garbled hiss from him, a simple output from his translator. There's a reason he's not in the habit of extended courtesies. He's making an effort today.

Telrim, on the other hand, has been dealing with aliens for some time. Not to mention an advantage with her host. The polite tone comes as automatically as the words. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Lionne."

[conciergelionne]

"Likewise, gentlebeings. If you would follow me, I'll show you to your quarters. I have arranged refreshments as requested, although I'm not certain what your host would prefer, Issek?" She doesn't wait for an answer, although she sets a slow pace until she has a better idea how well they can keep up. Long trips through space can do nasty things to muscles. "But I'm sure we can arrange something easily enough."

The door slides open as they approach; there's a control panel beside the door, and although Aurora does not reach for it or interact with it in any obvious way, it seems to react to her presence. Beyond the door is a long, softly-lit corridor, again with inoffensive walls and a glossy black floor. Against the right-hand wall sits an "L"-shaped sheet of something neither metal or plastic, thin enough that it almost appears built-in. Aurora steps onto it, and motions for the others to join her.

((Joyride on the magic people mover, whee!))

[onemorebounty]

We might need to be here for several days, but I'm reasonably certain our absence won't be noticed much.

*Samus suspects her guests might want some explanation of quarters and refreshments, and some reassurance as well. And, as she'd rather not have casual discussion of PINpoints in the public spaces of her Facet, where anyone could be listening, she'll approach the subject obliquely, herself. And she has a question for Aurora, albeit less urgent, as she steps onto the sheet.*

Any chance those refreshments include a bottle of Gavan brandy?

[in_the_cracks]

Indeed, they're exchanging looks at the first mention of quarters, carefully expressionless in Telrim's case. They do seem to relax at Samus' explanation- in part. Knowing they have PINpoints does the rest.

"I suppose not," Telrim quietly agrees with Samus, not at all pointed as she adds, "On either end." The Council of Thirteen set no time limit: they had no need. Every Yeerk is bound to their home by the feeding cycle. But they have a little time. And it's not something they want to discuss more than necessary, either. Even in this place where people apparently don't react to their possessing hosts.

Of course, Issek's Taxxon will require special arrangements in turn. Unfortunate that not feeding it is too dangerous to contemplate here. For now he's just careful about coiling himself onto the odd sheet behind Telrim, lifting his fore-sections and sitting back on the rest as he looks around. And tries not to pick at the vacsuit, because dignity is a thing even when you're wearing an uncontrollable cannibal monster.

[conciergelionne]

Aurora had been hoping for an answer. It's hard to do her job if she can't meet a client's basic needs. But at Samus' question, her attention shifts, and she smiles. "The admiral has left strict instructions as to your care and maintenance, as you can imagine. She is so very thorough."

Once everyone's on board, Aurora presses her right hand against the upper corner of the platform, which lights up in response. A few taps here and there, and it lifts slightly and starts gently forward. It's a very smooth ride, and merges easily with the flow of traffic when they reach more populated sections of the station.

[onemorebounty]

Strict instructions, hmm? I'll just bet.

*Samus' smile is wry, and she seems to be looking forward to quarters. And while they have a moment to move among traffic where humans rate a small minority, she'll pose a question to her guests.*

Are you going to be interested in anything beyond possible host solutions, on this trip?

[in_the_cracks]

The technology here is impressively convenient. And the population fascinating. It takes a bit of effort for Telrim to divert her attention back to answering Samus, instead of just listening.

"We're always interested in whatever there is to learn," she says with a sidelong glance. Her cautious tone suggests they're going to be mindful of the price. This isn't a place where they can be sure of bargaining from the stronger position. The statement mostly holds, all the same. That's why her gaze keeps flicking between aliens, sharp and curious but never long enough to stare.

Issek, meanwhile, reaches a conclusion of his own. Or perhaps decides on the right words to use. He leans toward Aurora a moment, Telrim budging aside to let him. "I... will require a substantial quantity of raw meat. And an isolated area to feed."

He's not comfortable with this habit of addressing the host. Natasha is a collaborator, at least, and Telrim has practice in accepting it.

[conciergelionne]

Telrim's answer gets a quirked-eyebrow look from Aurora. "I'll arrange access to the library. You'll have access to the usual public venues during your visit, and I've taken the liberty of making appointments with the station cloning laboratory. If there's anywhere else you'd like to visit during your stay, please let me know."

Then her gaze shifts to Issek, or vaguely in his direction. "Of course. Is there a particular kind you would prefer?" Her reply is in the calm tones of someone who has been trained to not react. Or maybe this just isn't weird for her.

The platform slows as they enter a large and busy red-lit plaza, where there is both vehicular and self-ambulatory traffic. The plaza rises a half-dozen stories, with traffic rising and falling at lift points dotting the landscape, often obscured by the layers of planters and surprisingly lush vegetation growing in all directions. Around the edges, glistening windows display the very latest in alien chic. Some of it looks more like torture devices than clothing. (Yes, there's a Victoria's Secret in the future.)

[onemorebounty]

(Given what constitutes future clothing, the mind boggles.)

*The corner of Samus' mouth quirks up at Telrim's answer, the other corner rising to complete the smile at Aurora's answer.*

I'd suggest you browse the cultural archives, before you binge on technical journals; perhaps there's an interesting showing in the museum; the Fallingwater exhibit had some intriguing pieces.

*She hasn't forgotten the reason they're there, but believes there is something of benefit to her friends to be found in a glimpse of broader horizons. And, if Samus' own experiences are any guide, a few days' pleasant living makes the beginnings of a good balm for Telrim and Natasha's harrowing experience at the digits of the Council of Thirteen (presumably Issek and his host, as well).*

[in_the_cracks]

Telrim blinks at the air a few times in a mental double-take. Then she turns her head to look between the two women, peculiar store fronts forgotten. Neither of those were the answer she expected. (She must really learn to stop doing that. It doesn't help.) She's missed... something.

"That's very... generous of you, but we do have a task to focus on." It's said without a hint of sarcasm, the words cautiously chosen. This doesn't seem like the time to get distracted. And she could get distracted so easily. And what is a Fallingwater exhibit anyway?

"It need only be carbon-based," Issek replies matter-of-factly. "That will be sufficient. Thank you." Not a Taxxon's preference, per se, but their feeding habits are notoriously disturbing and Issek thinks it better to minimise that. It's also why he's careful only to draw as near as he thinks is needed to make himself audible. People get very fond of their personal space around Taxxons - even Telrim, who no longer has to think about the space she gives him.

[conciergelionne]

Her eyes flicker to Telrim, and she gives a small nod. All the same, permissions will be acquired. Better done before anyone lets the guests in on how long this might take. And then her attention returns to Issek. "As you like. Please don't be shy to express other preferences. We try to accommodate a wide array of cultural and spiritual practices."

Their ride drifts into line for a lift, and when it's their turn a semi-opaque forcefield rises around them before they go up a few floors. "We're nearly there," she announces with a gesture toward another hallway, indiscernible from its neighbors except for those alien markings.

[onemorebounty]

Growing clone slugs takes time. Assuming they're even viable for your needs. They don't grow any faster if you sit by the tank and stare. My skin certainly didn't.

*That might require a bit of explanation to Aurora.*

Telrim and Issek are interested in vat-growth tech; if it can produce something viable for their needs, they'll be interested in a massively parallel operation.

*Taking in the view, she gives an appreciative sigh.*

I was on a ship carpeted in grass not too long ago, but I'm always struck by the gardens when I visit. You've really outdone yourselves, there are planets that don't smell this nice.

[in_the_cracks]

So much accommodation. Save for the time delay. Telrim frowns and nods slightly, forced to accept the technical delay since she has no expertise that says otherwise. They'll have to play some games with time for the sake of the Council's patience, but that's surely feasible.

There are definitely worse places to be 'trapped', Natasha thinks, as they scan the area again.

Telrim avoids agreeing with that, true though it is. First priority is getting some handle on how this place functions and learning to navigate it. Aurora and Samus don't seem concerned about their learning such things - which is odd, but would be much stranger as a reason not to learn them. So she keeps her eyes on their route and surroundings, memorising as many details as possible. And much of it is remarkably pleasant...

"Does the foliage serve a purpose?" Issek speaks up, interested in the same end from a different angle. The mention of grassy ships will be studiously ignored by both Controllers. His gaze dips toward Telrim a moment. "Besides aesthetics."

[conciergelionne]

"Carpeted with grass? Impressive." Compliments to the station always make Aurora smile, and she answers Issek in a cheerful tone. "Yes. It helps clean the air and re-oxygenate it, filters water, and also provides food for some of our guests and residents. Some species also derive psychological benefits." Her glance flickers to Samus. "Space is always at a premium on a station, so anything that multitasks is welcome."

And here ends the ride; the platform slows and stops, settling onto the floor again, in front of a door that opens a moment later. "If you find these acceptable, these will be your quarters for your visit."

The first room is of a comfortable size, with some human-style furniture and some more modular pieces that will hopefully prove comfortable for Issek. The walls are a soothing shade of blue, and the room is gently lit. There are several screens of various sizes set into the walls with consoles beside or below, each currently showing pictures of various colorful nebulae. Four doors lead further away from the entry.

"After you've refreshed yourselves, we'll set up your passes and familiarize yourself with the station's systems. Issek, I'm assured your meal will be delivered shortly, if you can wait just a little longer?" For Natasha and Samus, there's a table set with bottles of various drinks and take-away boxes from space. (They're incredibly advanced: their handles will no longer make your microwave explode.)

Yes, Samus, there's Gavan brandy. "I took the liberty of ordering for you. I hope you enjoy it." All of Samus' favorites are there; something that looks like oysters, roasted alien vegetables, piles of faintly green flatbread with cheese to spread over it.

(Bureaucracy is easier on a full stomach.)