Picollo-αα7@Pavarti [hr] Words don't come back first. There is a time of floating, animal perceptions. They pool in the base of my new mind like some cthonic liquid; viscus with meaning, maddening to dwell upon. I look unblinking at the unmoving light in front of me with the eyes of some monstrous reptilian ancestor, quietly feeling the complex texture of the unmoving frame of vision I am latched to, detached from any will to volition. Glacial processes crush the information gathered by my faculties into a fine thing, too fine of a substance to register higher in the hierarchy of mind, too fine to trigger analysis. An emotion resonates through this enormous cavity, a taught string of meaning setting off harmonic themes to conform to higher geometry of thought imposed on the bleak totality of perception rendering it a pattern with meaning to be unknotted and understood. Other melodies begin to play, and a chorus of voices drown the arithmetic of meaning, subsumed in the deeper calculus of inner social dialogue. I remember a me, in relation to a history, woven into a tapestry, with a shuttle and loom of probability and chance flowing the pattern into the future. My place in it brightens, points of light and color rendered into a matrix complex and wild, choices cascading into self-similar pattern of cause and effect; thought, plan and action. "Fuck. Me. That always sucks. "Ok, review. I am Picollo, a fifth column in Firewall, the Jovian Republic, and the Night Cartel; I'm a smuggler, bioconservative judas, spy, and a general bastard. I'm here to track down and capture or kill a sexy hive-girl that I may or may not have seduced or become seduced by, in an attempt to gather information about her reptilian Queen. I think I'm supposed to be working for Firewall on this one, although I doubt the Jove will bitch much, as I'm on "out-of-range leave" with them at the moment. For some reason I have a mysterious oligarch enemy who has enough direct power to burn me out of Jovian Intel, and did so just because I killed his muse for reprogramming me to sing silly songs and dance like a monkey when Jovian superiors entered the same room. Justice is a sad, toothless whore gumming the angry cock of the powerful. "I'm currently immobile in a medvat. I'm in one of my backup caches, presumably the one on Pavarti. While I was waking up one of my seeds should have activated and printed my standard gear, minus my QE comm, and plus my rope spindle and the repair spray and medichines that should be standard gear for the Joivan Spy On The Go, if the Republic weren't still so bent out of shape over the hefty lead enjoyed by the TITAN side had in nanotech fac/med when the Fall blossomed. And last but never least, there are my specs. My Specs. It should be capitalized. A conceit, I admit, but I'm on Pavarti! With my ugly mug, I've gotta have something flashy to distract the ladies with besides my swagger and grin. You know, something substantial-like." "Watch out Pavarti: I'm an alpha fork with a week left to live, a big bag of ugly tricks, and a self-destructive streak as deep as the abyss. And I just crashed your party."

Picollo-αα7@Pavarti [hr] “For some odd reason the medvat doesn’t open automatically when I gain consciousness. This would be something of a life-threatening problem, but lucky for me the medvat’s glass is cracked wide open and even luckier than that, the hole was plugged. I would feel a little better about that if the thing plugging the hole didn’t look suspiciously like the mangled remains of a robotic face. Looking through the clouded glass gives me a view of a large pile of scrap electronics and misfabbed sex toys, which is decidedly not the dark, secure crawlspace I was supposed to be in. “Needless to say, my gear printout doesn’t exist. “Pulling the robot head the rest of the way into the tank and smashing open the rest of the glass lets me fall out of the vat onto the floor and its new pile of broken glass. Since I’m shivering uncontrollably as the medvat’s goo is slogging off, my medichines have to keep fighting to keep my skin closed, and that’s really only entertaining for the first few seconds so I do my best to sit up and assess my situation. After the disadvantages of doing this become painfully clear, I decide that pants are my first priority. Then shoes. Then a utilitool.”

Alysia blinked her bright green reptilian eyes, as her consciousness returned. Blood, the thought assaulted her every sense. The air was thick with the scent of it, the dragoness could taste it in her mouth, she could feel it sticky against her emerald colored skin, and as her eyes adjusted she could see that the tiled floor she lay on was awash in it. The dracomorph hung limply over the edge of an expensive gold gilded tub. Her rump and tail remained inside while her snout was pressed to the floor coated in the congealed blood. She attempted to right herself and stand but only managed to slide completely out of the tub and flop roughly onto the slick tiled bathroom floor. Hello? Where the hell are you? Her muse remained silent and she remembered vaguely it had been absent for awhile. Alysia growled and writhed, her emerald body rapidly becoming drenched in red, as her fore and rear claws seemed to be shackled together tightly behind her back. She lay there panting, staring at a bloody gobbet of flesh and beyond it the body of a man sprawled unmoving on the floor nearby. The lifeless man, an exalt morph, was naked save for a luxurious crimson spattered robe. His blood covered hands clutched at his ragged torn throat, staring back with dead eyes. A wave of hazy memories rushed back at Alysia through a throb of pain at her temple where she had struck the floor. The dragoness had been making inquiries into the "Midnight Kiss of Eternal Bliss". An expensive private members only underground club frequented by her target. She hadn't planed on getting caught and made part of the merchandise, or more to the point the menu. This particular twisted establishment let it's patrons pick their bedmate then let them indulge their sadism in killing them. Then the unfortunate victim would be served up in a gourmet meal in their exclusive restaurant downstairs. This was the ultimate egomaniac power trip, one which was enormously expensive. Just the kind of place she had expected to find a Pathfinder executive at letting off steam. She had gotten close to her target, too close. After this dangerous head case had his way with her a few times then ranted at her for a couple hours in the adjoining bedroom he had dragged her by the tail into this bathroom hanging her over the tub. Alysia whimpered and closed her eyes recalling how he had planned to skin her. After he had sliced open her tail with one of the glittering instruments now on the sink over her head, the muzzle she had been forced to wear had muffled her screams. That's where the bastard had made his mistake. Apparently he hadn't been around dracomorphs before because he removed her muzzle, the better to hear her screams after all. She had whispered something to get him to lean in close then lunged clamping her teeth down on his throat. The dragoness had shaken her head, twisting and yanking, a move any crocodile would be familiar with. She recalled the surprise in his eyes, someone had the audacity to fight back! He gave a gurgled cry as he crumpled pulling her down with him. She had struck the floor hard followed by blackness. Alysia shook her head as if she could dislodge the terrible memories and lay there, shivering. I almost became this guy's next suit and dinner. If I had missed... The thought, mixed with the scent of death in the air made her queasy. Her head swam as she fought to keep her last meal down and failed miserably, coughing for a long while after. She glanced down at her savaged tail, mostly healed by her medichienes and felt slightly better. She squirmed, twisted her claws and formed a rotary saw from her wrist mounted tool, several minutes later she had managed to free her claws gingerly rolling onto all fours and stretching. Alysia lifted her claws onto the marble sink and stared into the mirror beyond at her blood soaked form, trying to ignore the pain in her groin, tail, and head. Alysia's body was unique, even among dracomorphs, her owner had seen to that. The dracomorph shared genetics and implants with sylphs, pleasure pods, and ghosts. She didn't have the wings popular with some dracomorphs but she did have a glossy perfectly smooth artificial skin that changed color at her or other's whim. Her only accessory was her shiny gold metal collar ringing her neck that marked her as a Pride habitat permanent "servant". I look horrible. Like a demon or something. She wiped at the blood on her snout, only managing to smear it more. With a snarl she turned bright red while sweeping the shiny knives and torture instruments off the sink sending them clattering to the floor. The dragoness snatched up a bone saw and began cutting into the corpse's head. With a cry of triumph she yanked his cortical stack free and tossed aside the saw. "Mission accomplished asshole." Alysia growled kicking the body as hard as she could while fighting back tears. Alysia climbed into the tub and started the shower on hot and high speed. She lifted her snout and closed her eyes letting the water cascade down her now pure white body. Long moments passed while pink water flowed down the drain rinsing her clean of gore before she opened her eyes and glanced over at the mutilated body. Her tough facade crumbled and she flopped onto her rump curling into a ball as tears began to flow. She hadn't minded being used, she had certainly been thrown at enough business people as entertainment and been treated roughly on a regular basis by her owner. Because of the extensive psychosurgery she had received as a courtesan she was conditioned to not only accept it, but to enjoy it. It also wasn't the killing that bothered her, enough people had died under her claws and the mandatory psychosurgery every dracomorph got turned even the meekest into a cold blooded killer. No it was the fact she was fighting the urge to dip her snout into the corpse and eat his organs that bothered her. In the end we're no different and I'm just as much a monster as you she thought. "Predators make terrible prey." she whispered staring through tears at the stack gripped in her claw. It had been the same thing she had told him before she killed him.

The sharp staccato of automatic weapon fire nearby followed by an inhuman screech shook Alysia from her morbid rumination. Damn it, she's here already? Her training came without thought as she tucked the cortical stack under her collar for safekeeping while simultaneously snatching up a nearby towel. It took only seconds to soak the cloth and dart through the door to the bedroom. The dragoness paused to clean the blood from the bottom of her claws tossing aside the soiled towel into a corner. In two long strides she sprung onto the tousled bed and jumped high adhering onto the mirrored wall behind the bed's headboard in quick succession. Alysia's glossy skin shifted from stark white to a blurry indistinctness as she silently scampered up to the mirrored ceiling. She quickly traced a claw down the smooth ceiling until they caught on an almost invisible seam then with a sharp shove the tile swung up and open. The room below shook as a small explosion rocked the building dimming the lights to backups. Shrill alarms began to blare. The dracomorph gripped the edge of the entry panel then let go with her feet flipping up into the dark crawlspace above. A swipe of her claw later the tile slammed shut leaving her in inky darkness. Shapes began to resolve themselves as her reptilian eyes shifted into infrared. She lifted her snout sniffing at the air, Fan lubricant and ozone?. The dragoness followed the scent to a ventilation cover. Metal shrieked as her claws tore jagged gashes in the metal until enough of a gap was opened for her to squeeze her lithe form through. It was a tight fit even with her foreclaws held out far in front of her snout while she shimmied forward with her feet. Motion flickered at a junction ahead. Please don't be an xeno, I can't fight like this. Also is that smoke? Out of the frying pan and into the fire... Alysia stalked forward as stealthily as she could manage until she pulled herself into the "T" intersection ahead. She growled and pounced smashing her claws down as quick as thought on her foe. A scrubbing drone beeped in protest and squirmed trying to escape while she sighed in relief. Picking a direction forward wasn't hard, she turned right, ahead of the diffuse smoke cloud that was beginning to fill the vent and make her eyes water. She gripped the drone tight and dragged it with her. C'mon pal I have another job for you. Soon the whump whump sound of a fan filled the vent. It whined as it sped up to suck the smoke out pulling her forward towards it's deadly embrace. The dragoness held the drone out in front of her as a shield. Sorry... Alysia winced and closed her eyes as the scrubbing drone impacted the blades and burst shredding into pieces. A large shard of shrapnel was flung centimeters past her snout ricocheting off her collar and burying itself deep into her right shoulder. She fought the urge to scream instead whimpering for several seconds before lashing out in retribution with her left claw removing the remains of the damaged fan from her path. Her AR display was still out but she didn't need it to know the wound was serious and that ironically the very symbol of her servitude had just saved her life. Had the shard embedded itself in her neck she would be twitching her last and sharing the same fate as her erstwhile captor left so recently behind. The vent was soon slick with crimson as she dragged herself the last few meters to the exit. With a supreme force of will she flopped out past another grate onto the roof of the building and began tumbling out of control over the edge. Her claws flailed trying to find purchase. Weightlessness.... Why didn't I anticipate....? WHAM, she landed atop some sort of storage container denting it severely. Spots danced before her eyes and her chest heaved sending pain shooting through her chest with each breath. The dragoness lay there for what seemed an eternity before reaching up and fumbling at her collar for her muses' manual reboot. A chime followed by data scrolling across her vision told her she was successful. "System reboot. Total down time was seven hour and twenty three minutes." A male voice growled harshly at her. "I am Typhon, gamma 23-1" "Currently assigned to Alysia Deveroux. Pride habitat property. Asset tag Echo Alpha Alpha 001. Identity confirmed." "Pavarti local mesh link established" "Current local time is 02:33:48" "You have three new messages, one is marked priority" "Alysia you have severe trauma to your right supraspinatus, you have multiple contusions about your body, three cracked ribs, vaginal and rectal bruising, a thirty centimeter incision on the ventral surface of your tail, along with extensive blood loss. Seek medical attention immediately." "No shit." She croaked. Was that disgust in his voice? Why am I not surprised? "Current mission parameters preclude me from requesting outside assistance. There is however a medical facility with resleeving capability within 159.4 meters of your current location now tagged on your display. Unfortunately this will put you farther from your equipment drop and your primary mission objective." Alysia grunted, "No need to worry about that. It'll find me." She rolled off her back onto all fours and began limping in the direction indicated in her field of vision. "Also your chameleon skin is ineffective at the moment unless of course you'd like to match your current coating of red. My avatar display is set to off, would you like me to fix that?" "No." She snarled, she couldn't stand seeing the smug scarlet dragon gloating at the moment. "Actually I was just being polite Echo." The bastard always used her code name when he was trying to get under her skin and remind her who was in charge. "I'll turn it back on when I deem it appropriate. You should know Xenomorph presence is confirmed and you're leaving a trail a blind person could follow so I'd move that expensive ass of yours."