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At least his schedule was unpredictable enough that it was difficult to hunt him down, unless one went through the Keepers. Basically, the scheduling secretaries for Rumor, who coordinated rendezvous and transports. You had to know someone who belonged to even find them.
A turnstile door awaited them under a pink glowing sign. The text was alien, but the other signs made it clear it belonged to the same class as the rest of the line up, something that did not truly waver from an Earthen experience even in space. The floors were a tacky olive green color, sticky from spilled drinks, and the walls weren’t much better. This was a place for live music, the atmosphere of smoke and intrigue more gritty than interesting.
They entered, and Kira barely had to raise her hand before a Talcien, a humanoid form with lizard-like features, hissed out, “You’re late.”
He came through shadows next to the door, as if coiled, ready to strike. Talciens were similar in nature to a cobra, with the large arching hoods on either side of their face and a pointed mouth, slits for nostrils on top. His mixture of black and silver scales intermingling gave him a severe look complimented by obsidian eyes. Crossed arms revealed three fingers on each hand, a thumb like appendage and two longer ones, lacking scales and silver with completely smooth skin.
Kira glanced over with an amused grin. “I never truly gave him a time Bi’ast.”
The suited man managed a smile, which looked more threatening than pleased, long fangs settling back over the bottom part of his jaw. “It isss good to sssee you.”
“And you.”
“Follow me,” Bi’ast turned, taking one step back before shifting his feet. He kept Kira next to him in the motion while side-eyeing the Vicar. He did not question his presence, but lowered his voice hissing out to Kira, “Toke hasss company asss well. It isss-” His s’s elongated slightly like a lisp that no one pointed out since in front of that lisp rested poisonous appendages.
The man paused, looking back, but no one could overhear in the environment, but he did not wish his opinion known openly was what the pause told Kira, “It isss not polite, but he sssaysss it isss necessary.”
Kira lifted her chin at the alien creature, as he beat her height by well over a foot. His scales gleamed even in the low light, the reflection a sign of good health. “Necessary for what?”
Bi’ast slipped his forked tongue out and up and down over the front of his mouth, as if tasting the air. Kira read the action. He was uncomfortable. It was a nervous gesture, and she’d comfort him if only for a second, “Nevermind old friend, I’ll see soon enough.”
They passed several unmarked doors, then turned a corner. Two men stood beside another unlabeled door, leaning towards one another, as if having a discussion, but neither spoke. One knocked with force enough to send the rapping through the thick metal which sprang open without delay.
Toke is in a hurry, Kira thought. She gestured to Max as she asked Bi’ast, “Will you entertain my friend until this is finished?”
Neither were in a position to refuse. Kira ranked higher than Bi’ast, and Max needed her to vouch for his honesty. To be impolite now risked her not giving him the introduction he sorely wished for.
That was until a voice came from inside the room. A low smooth baritone met them with exasperation. “You may bring him Kira, I am aware of his presence.”
Kira shrugged. Bi’ast stayed outside.
The ‘office’ for the club wasn’t redecorated for the meeting, the only sign of Toke’s presence came from the rather large blue-prints of the Callistar. Hanging in the air and holographically lit from below, the emitter laid flat across the desk while the ship hovered an inch above it. The rest of the room was the sort of thing one expected from a manager’s private office, seats that resembled leather for easy cleaning, a pole in one corner, cushions in an alcove for comfort, and a secondary bar that a few of the black suited cronies remained by, another Talcien in the mix.
What did interest Kira was the company that Toke chose to keep outside of his personal guard.
Before the desk sat two chairs, one empty, which Kira quickly conceded to Max. For once, he did not argue. A man with shockingly white hair filled the other. Judging by the pale skin, rounded ears, and general lack of correct posture, she guessed he was human, mid-twenties, if she’d learned from the others she’d seen. His face had hard angular features, and his expression, a scowl that looked baked on permanently. A quick glance at his legs, tall, she thought to herself, but the leather jacket he wore was too baggy to reveal much more.
“Thank you for coming Kira,” Toke spoke directly to her, drawing her attention away from the other man. She returned her gaze to the stern leader who’d requested their presence.
“Of course, Sir,” Kira wasn’t quite monotone, but her voice remained steady.
Toke was essentially the head keeper of all rumors. He garnered respect. She perched behind Max, her hands on the edge of the upholstery. With him seated, she would address Toke once again. “It is good to see you, and to see that the Callistar will be brought into this century.”
A fire flashed in her eyes at the upgrades. Deep space was dangerous and their exploration of it in search of Listium, a rare metal, might run them into raiders or new species.
The politeness came to an immediate halt as the white-haired stranger spoke in a broken Irish accent, “I beg yer fekkin pardon?”
The white-haired man sat up, his eyes glaring first at Kira, then at Max. “Who the absolute fek, brings a fekking priest ta meet a bloody criminal overlord?”
Max reacted first, just the slightest upturn of the corner of his lips. Kira hardly found it amusing. She itched to backhand the man with no qualms about doing so in front of almost anyone other than Toke. Who took the situation in hand rather quickly, preventing her from doing as she pleased.
“Kira, that is Quinn. Just Quinn. I will get to him shortly.” Toke turned his gaze onto Quinn. Barely concealed anger hidden underneath the surface of his severe features. “Quinn, did I not tell you to keep your comments to yourself unless you are asked to speak?”
Quinn’s response was childish. He rolled his eyes dramatically before returning to staring at the ceiling. His behavior eerily similar to a teenager’s, despite his apparent age.
“My apologies for him. He thinks he is smarter than everyone in the room. And as much as it pains me to say it, as near as I can tell, he is right. It makes humility and respect hard for him. I could give you an extensive list of what I speculate his issues to be, but I am sure you can guess. What do you want to know first?”
Kira bit back the obvious question of why Quinn’s insolence was tolerated, and instead said, “I’ve seen the schematics. Alec let me peruse the copy that you sent to him. I assume this is to be the head of the project?”
