Post by Emperor Ticoga on May 1, 2022 2:30:36 GMT -5
One year. Perhaps longer still than that. It was, in all honesty, hard for the young Arcosian to say for certain; ever since departing company with Froma and the others, Ticoga had slipped into the veritable underbelly of Arcosian society in search of something to connect the evidence he'd collected with...
Well... he'd begun to forget. Inundated with the complexities of the underworld social structure, plotting and back stabbings, raids and fighting... He had slipped down the slope of failure, and had been unable to claw his way back out. His superiors had long stopped trying to reach him, and no one came looking for the lone Arcosian who had been looking to make a name for himself by uncovering a great scheme and galactic criminal syndicate.
The mission was doomed from the beginning. From the moment Ticoga had agreed to take on the assignment alone, to his heated meeting with a member of the Arcosian Royal Guard, the botched raid and subsequent chase of some machine being... That was all he could remember clearly at this point. Everything after that had become a blur of faces, colors, names, and violent upheavals.
Arcose had undergone several changes of authority, and as far as Ticoga was able to find out, the world was now led by a trio of powerful beings.
"....Ah, there I go, getting distracted." Ticoga says aloud, his deep crimson skin glistening with the glow of the machines that power the city from these lower levels. The Arcosian turns his hardened red eyes, casting his gaze across the darkened room as the light pours in from the now ruined doorway.
Seven beings of various species lay strewn about the floor. Arm cannons are arrayed in shattered remains, and several of the beings have thumb-sized cauterized holes through their chests and backs. The last living person, a fish-faced alien, groans as it fruitlessly tries to drag itself across the floor.
Cauterized holes line the being's arms and legs, effectively rendering the limbs mostly useless. Ticoga clasps his hands behind his back, and walks further into the structure. He stops in front of the alien's path, and his slender but powerful tail snakes out and wraps around the alien's neck, squeezing and lifting them up to meet Ticoga's hateful glare.
"I'll ask again. Do you recognize this?" he holds up the medallion he'd collected from the raid a year prior. The silver coin sports a seven pointed star set behind a curved, triangular shield. The alien doesn't reply, and averts their own gaze. Ticoga sighs, and restricts his tail around the alien's neck at the same time his violently jerks the being back. There is an audible CRUNCH as the neck snaps and vertebra are destroyed.
Ticoga unfurls his tail from the now dead being's neck, and lets the body drop unceremoniously to the floor with a muffled thud. He gazes at the medallion, and grips it tightly in his palm. This place was his final chance to learn something. Now, the last of his options was spent. All that remained now, was to accept his failure, and reinsert himself back with his people.
It had taken some time, but Ticoga managed to finally navigate to the upper layers of the factory dominated world. The breeze, so familiar yet so distant once, was a welcome sensation - even if the temperature of this place was still terribly hot. Night, at least, gave the ever churning world some level of reprieve. Ticoga makes his way to the largest spaceport available, and elects to not use public transportation back to Arcose.
For all his grievances and effort, though in vain, he felt he had earned to possess his own ship. He locates a starship surplus and sales office, and uses the zeni he had built over the year to purchase a relatively large ship. Comfortable, would be more appropriate as a descriptive. Designed similarly to the massive capital ships of the Fleet, Ticoga's chosen ship as round, with a single forward viewport "bubble" designed to give the pilot a wide view. It would seat five comfortably, and had fair sleeping quarters.
After checking to ensure nothing was amiss with the Floater technology the ship relied on for takeoff and flight, Ticoga made his purchase and had the ship delivered to a nearby available landing pad. It would be a few hours before the ship was fully fueled and supplied before the delivery, so Ticoga chose to use the time to get some privacy. He flied up to the top of an overlooking tower, and sits down with his back against the wall. Another warm breeze passes over the Arcosian, and he closes his eyes, trying not to think too hard about his poor, almost pitiful, situation.
Despite not needing to, he breathes deeply, to calm his nerves.
Well... he'd begun to forget. Inundated with the complexities of the underworld social structure, plotting and back stabbings, raids and fighting... He had slipped down the slope of failure, and had been unable to claw his way back out. His superiors had long stopped trying to reach him, and no one came looking for the lone Arcosian who had been looking to make a name for himself by uncovering a great scheme and galactic criminal syndicate.
The mission was doomed from the beginning. From the moment Ticoga had agreed to take on the assignment alone, to his heated meeting with a member of the Arcosian Royal Guard, the botched raid and subsequent chase of some machine being... That was all he could remember clearly at this point. Everything after that had become a blur of faces, colors, names, and violent upheavals.
Arcose had undergone several changes of authority, and as far as Ticoga was able to find out, the world was now led by a trio of powerful beings.
"....Ah, there I go, getting distracted." Ticoga says aloud, his deep crimson skin glistening with the glow of the machines that power the city from these lower levels. The Arcosian turns his hardened red eyes, casting his gaze across the darkened room as the light pours in from the now ruined doorway.
Seven beings of various species lay strewn about the floor. Arm cannons are arrayed in shattered remains, and several of the beings have thumb-sized cauterized holes through their chests and backs. The last living person, a fish-faced alien, groans as it fruitlessly tries to drag itself across the floor.
Cauterized holes line the being's arms and legs, effectively rendering the limbs mostly useless. Ticoga clasps his hands behind his back, and walks further into the structure. He stops in front of the alien's path, and his slender but powerful tail snakes out and wraps around the alien's neck, squeezing and lifting them up to meet Ticoga's hateful glare.
"I'll ask again. Do you recognize this?" he holds up the medallion he'd collected from the raid a year prior. The silver coin sports a seven pointed star set behind a curved, triangular shield. The alien doesn't reply, and averts their own gaze. Ticoga sighs, and restricts his tail around the alien's neck at the same time his violently jerks the being back. There is an audible CRUNCH as the neck snaps and vertebra are destroyed.
Ticoga unfurls his tail from the now dead being's neck, and lets the body drop unceremoniously to the floor with a muffled thud. He gazes at the medallion, and grips it tightly in his palm. This place was his final chance to learn something. Now, the last of his options was spent. All that remained now, was to accept his failure, and reinsert himself back with his people.
It had taken some time, but Ticoga managed to finally navigate to the upper layers of the factory dominated world. The breeze, so familiar yet so distant once, was a welcome sensation - even if the temperature of this place was still terribly hot. Night, at least, gave the ever churning world some level of reprieve. Ticoga makes his way to the largest spaceport available, and elects to not use public transportation back to Arcose.
For all his grievances and effort, though in vain, he felt he had earned to possess his own ship. He locates a starship surplus and sales office, and uses the zeni he had built over the year to purchase a relatively large ship. Comfortable, would be more appropriate as a descriptive. Designed similarly to the massive capital ships of the Fleet, Ticoga's chosen ship as round, with a single forward viewport "bubble" designed to give the pilot a wide view. It would seat five comfortably, and had fair sleeping quarters.
After checking to ensure nothing was amiss with the Floater technology the ship relied on for takeoff and flight, Ticoga made his purchase and had the ship delivered to a nearby available landing pad. It would be a few hours before the ship was fully fueled and supplied before the delivery, so Ticoga chose to use the time to get some privacy. He flied up to the top of an overlooking tower, and sits down with his back against the wall. Another warm breeze passes over the Arcosian, and he closes his eyes, trying not to think too hard about his poor, almost pitiful, situation.
Despite not needing to, he breathes deeply, to calm his nerves.