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A few hours after the confrontation with Sereta in The Shambles, the “overnight” shift has kicked in aboard Iron’s End. Marshal Dorian Rake accompanies four people toward the Lucky Talon: A woman with a sleeping infant cradled in her arms, Kye Solvan, and their guardian, Jasper.
Cygnari meets them at the boarding ramp, a solemn look on his face. “I have prepared the berthing area as best as I can. Please let me know if it is not satisfactory.” he says. The past several hours have been a whirlwind for him. Searching for a robber, now giving that robber turned guardian sanctuary from forces that pose a far greater danger than the penalty for stealing a few medicines.
Rake nods to the Falari. “What’s your plan?”
“The benefit to being well traveled, is knowing places off the beaten track others may not know.” Cygnari says. “I have a route in mind. We can hop from spot to spot, stay for a period of time, and move on. Mobility, I believe, will be our greatest asset.”
“I am grateful for this,” the woman says. “I am Antira. My daughter is Siki.”
Cygnari offers a solemn nod to Antira. “You may call me Cygnari. My vessel may not be the most comfortable in the galaxy, but I try to maintain a decent standard aboard.” he says, giving the sleeping infant’s cheek a gentle brush with one of his fingers. “The young one deserves a chance to grow and thrive, and it is an honor to provide that chance.”
“I will be along for the ride to provide any assistance that I might,” Jasper informs Cygnari with a tip of his bellhop hat. “I’m staying right the hell here,” Kye mutters, crossing his arms. He looks toward Rake. “If you ask me, they’d be better off hiding in the lost sectors of Iron’s End than bouncing around the cosmos waiting for the Rustborn to grind them to dust.”
Cygnari nods at Jasper. “We will need all we can get.” he says. “Knowing what, and who, our adversaries now are, we will have to rely on cunning and wit to stay out of their grasp.” He then looks to Kye, raising an eye ridge. “There is an old Earth saying my ancestors learned, one my grandfather found humorous. ‘A sitting duck’. Which is what they will be here. It will only be a matter of time before they are found, and if they are that important within the Rustborn hierarchy, they will stop at nothing to ensure their return.” he says, his wings flaring a bit. “I am sure the Marshall would agree with me that Iron’s End is not prepared for any sustained conflicts, nor would it want to begin one.”
“Yeah, no,” Rake replies to Cygnari. He looks at Kye and says, “You should go with them. Those augments of yours could help. And if you stay here, you’re just going to run afoul of the market vendors until Patch decides you’re not worth the hassle and puts you out the airlock.”
Kye grunts. “Well. The baby does kind of like my Wonk-Wonk the Interminable impression.”
Jasper rolls his eyes: “On second thought, Marshal, maybe he should stay. You could aim him and that impression at the Rustborn.”
Cygnari puts a hand to his beak, then looks to Jasper with a sly grin. “Then again, we could aim him at the Rustborn as well should we ever need a diversion. A potentially wasted resource if left here.” he says looking back to Rye. “Something you may want to consider. Your assistance to Antira may become a known factor, putting a mark on your head as well in regards to the Rustborn. Staying here, you may risk the same fate as they face should they be discovered. I would think long and hard on your decision.” he says. “Though should you choose to join us, be warned should you be as much a burden to US as you have been to the Shambles, I too share no qualms to shoving you out an airlock.” (edited)
“I’m really starting to wish I was an Odarite,” Kye mutters. He follows Antira and Jasper toward the Lucky Talon’s boarding ramp. “I’ve heard they can last a little longer in vacuum.” He scratches a scruffy cheek. “Maybe there’s an augment suite for that.”
Rake nods to Cygnari. “How can I keep in touch with you? Obviously, it’s a bad idea for us to know where you are at any given time. But I do want to get updates on them – and I’d like to be able to keep you apprised of the situation here when possible.”
Cygnari pulls out a small data pad and offers it to Rake. “An old communications technique I have adapted to modern methods,” he says. “This algorithm will allow a communications device to frequency hop in a specific pattern, transmitting very briefly on one of over thirty individual frequencies. The partner communication device, using the same algorithm, will be able to receive the transmission perfectly as it is hopping and receiving each bit in sync, but anyone trying to listen in will only get bits and pieces, if anything. This should allow us to communicate covertly.”
Rake accepts the device, then watches the group boarding Cygnari’s ship. “Fly straight. Don’t die. One or the other.”