<Transmission sent>
<origin source Osiris>
<09:14 cc 18 orbital time stamp>
(Iron shield, this is Osiris requesting status report.)
<Transmission terminated>
<Transmission sent>
<Origin Source Osiris>
<10:37 cc 18 orbital orbital time stamp>
(Iron Shield please respond.)
<Transmission terminated>
<Transmission sent>
<Origin Source Osiris>
<11:24 cc 18 orbital time stamp>
(Fleet command this is Osiris, we are unable to raise the Iron Shield. Requesting immediate status report of her current position.)
<Transmission terminated>
<Transmission sent>
<origin source Osiris>
<12:12 cc 18 orbital time stamp>
(This is Osiris station to any naval assets in the Holliday solar system. Attempts to reach the Iron Shield and fleet command have failed. Is anyone out there?)
<transmission sent>
<Transmission received>
<Transmission sent>
<origin source unknown>
<12:15 cc 18 orbital time stamp>
(<All sounds inaudible>)
<attachment provided>
<transmission terminated>
<Transmission received>
<Transmission sent>
<origin source The merchant prince>
<12:22 cc 18 orbital time stamp>
(This is The Merchant Prince hailing Osiris. We're currently at <classified encryption redacted>. Do not download any incoming data streams! Consider all network traffic as hostile. Iron Shield is still engaged with enemy contacts, all contact with fleet command has been (static inaudible).
<Transmission lost>
Alexander had few fond memories of the war. He had spent years suppressing most of them and trying to move forward, but here on this world he continued to experience one episode after another. The city of Morning seemed to have constant reminders of the bitter glories of the Kaizer's victories. Which he considered odd for he didn't remember that many victories. Shrines to the fallen were arrayed in the wine red sunlight, and memorials of supposed heroes were constructed along the great highway overlooking all travelers. Alexander was already growing annoyed with the sulfur tasting air and endless dawning light breaking over the mountains to the west, but seeing one token after another to a bloody meat grinder made his stomach feel ill. He shrugged his heavy shoulders and walked down a road dedicated to the battle of Grimlock, which was one of the few major victories for the great Sutherland Empire. A soldier in power armor was immortalized in marble to tower over the crowd, his eyes gazing toward the center of the city in the distance. Dozens of other statues arrayed on either side surrounding by flowers and small gardens or fountains. There were no memories of the sacrifices sustained by the former republic or its vassals. Even the tower of Tyr had been stripped from its previous foundations.
It was during times like this when he tried to focus on other things to distract himself. A pair of lovers sitting side by side on a bench near a statue of one of the famed admirals of the war, although he couldn't tell which one. A young mother holding a babe on the foot of a fountain playing with the water, the child cried in joy at the splashing water. A collection of what looked like young students were being led by a professor just up ahead. He walked past them and noticed how they were gawking over a shrine to the saints of Ebor. Overhead aircraft created spears of clouds, there was an unusual number of smaller military craft.
The thing that bothered him the most about this world wasn't the smell, or awkward statues. It was the things that flew into the sky. Not the aircraft, but the indigenous creatures. There were birds yes, but there was something else that traveled the heavens above in sickly fashion. The things reminded him of worms, long fleshy appendages with thin wings that slithered across the clouds. They were predators and hunted the other avian creatures. It was said they never touched the ground but he doubted that. In his experience nothing could avoid the ground beneath them forever.
Living without the modular unit had been a life altering experience, he was used to a constant rate of data streams feeding into his cortex. He hadn't had to live a normal life without a constant upload of data in years. The world was too quiet, too barren of activity. Even with all the people walking around he found the atmosphere to serene for his liking. He had been tempted to restore the module to his implants, but the nightmares he had been experiencing night after night had finally been too much. The last one showed him the lover of his dreams, the one he had been searching for, burning under a tree.
The dream had renewed his search for her with new vigor. He wanted to find her, wanted to confess to her that he never should have let her be the one that got away so easily. He shouldn't have so easily turned her aside to pursue others who were far beneath them both, and he should never have tried to escape his problems by running away. There's so many things he should have done, deep down he knew he still didn't deserve her. Still though he would try to find her, and maybe just maybe he could start his life over.
His search had finally led him to a new clue, but the odds were not in his favor. After passing down the street he found himself being lead down a series of gardens, they seemed to be tactically placed near or next to grave yards. About a mile away from the statues celebrating the battle of Grimlock he arrived at his destination. A collection of storefronts and older restaurants lined the road next to the great port. It was the only section of city not overshadowed by the curtain wall. The port of Morning sat next to the largest body of water that fed into the hydro dams further to the south. Right now most of the fishing and merchant ships were docked. Only a few larger craft were out to sea. The water was casted in an ever glowing amber light.
It was here that a secluded tavern named "Last Stop" was neatly tucked away. Its outer walls were cracked brick masonry and there was a small collection of seating arrangements out front. Most of the customers were inside, and they were not there to smoke hookah or long tobacco sticks and feast on the delicacies of sea food.
Stepping inside, the interior of the tavern betrayed its outward appearance. Alexander Gunn was met with a vibrant smell of tobacco and scented candles. It confused his senses and he couldn't hold back a sneeze.
"Bless you mister," a stewardess noticed his arrival the moment he entered and offered him a handkerchief. The linen felt soft in his hands.
"Thank you," he noted the outfit she was wearing was at least one size too small. She was obviously there to entice all possible costumers to stay. "I've come looking for someone." He tried to stay on topic, but ignoring her cleavage was rather difficult.
"Aren't we all sir? Everybody is looking for someone, and when they come to the last stop they realize what they've been searching for was not a person at all." She gave him a small curtsey, bowing just low enough for her cleavage to show more prominently.
"And what is that?" He asked curiously.
The atmosphere seemed to change in the room,"A feeling, satisfaction, genuine happiness. Here they discover what their souls were needing, and it isn't the same for everyone."
"Still though, I wouldn't mind if I could actually get some help with my search." He was getting a little tired of the self obsorbing lecture.
"And who is it that your searching for mister?" The way she said mister was enticing. She tightened her accent to give herself a noticeable flair.
He mentioned the name and could tell from her reaction that she had no idea who that was. He then gave her a very brief description which also didn't spark any realization. It appeared this was yet another dead end.
"I'm sorry sir, but if it pleases you, you might find something else here. Maybe I can help you find what you're soul really needs." She batted an eye to him as she finished with that same cute accent.
Why not? he thought to himself and allowed her to lead him to the back door. A staircase met him and the basement level was larger and more spread out than the one above. More smoke hung in the air and it made the atmosphere taste like cinnamon. He could barely see more than two feet in front of him, his heightened senses the only thing keeping him from bouncing into the furniture or walls. The young steward meanwhile continued to guide him. The hallway lead to a large bar room, a place where anyone could partake without any prying eyes. Topless bartenders served drinks while several elaborately clad stewardesses interacted with the guests. There was music, a mixture of string instruments creating a serene melody.
<Counter measures enabled> his cybernetic enhancements had activated the automated responses in the contact of the narcotics leaking in the ozone of the room. He could tell without any diagnosis that his internal components were pushing hard to counter the drugs. A meter appeared that only he could see at the corner of his vision indicating his cybernetics could only withstand the drugs affects for an estimated 18 hours. With a thought he banished the icon from the corner of his vision, but took a mental note just for safety. Everyone was under the influence, except the workers who seemed to always keep the entertainment going. Whatever narcotics were filling the customers lungs, they were apparently immune to.
Several other room caught his attention, rooms that were closed with signs overhead. The sounds coming from within were audible enough to let him know they were all in heavy service. The labels above each read, "breeding room", "milking stable", and "pleasure baths".
The stewardess leading him kept him walking past the main attraction. The sound of the violins continued to echo. He knew he wouldn't find his long lost lover, the odds were actually kind of low that she was here to begin with. But even bad odds are better than no odds.
"There's something special about you isn't there?" She asked him. What she was actually saying was why was he was still walking straight, and not the least bit unhindered by whatever was in the air.
"Isn't there something special about all of us?" he ignored her inquisitive glances.
"It's rude to answer a lady's question with a question?" Her tone betrayed her anxiety.
"Not from where I'm from its not," He noticed just how her eyes spoke a different language than her face. They glared at him like a predator as she tried to smile.
She lifted her hand to point him to a room across the hall. "I hope you find something to your satisfaction mister."
In an almost predictable fashion three nearly naked females were waiting for him in the other room, "Choose whichever suits your pleasure...or them all if you wish," the stewardess declared in seductive fashion.
The first one was young with small and supple breasts, she had stern shoulders and warm skin. The second woman presented was older with some grey in her long blonde hair but she had an air of confidence around her that spoke volume. The third fashioned a cloak parted down the middle revealing a soft lean stomach and wide hips. Most of her face was covered but her brown hair broke free past her shoulders.
They each looked up at him ready to perform whatever service he required. For the first time in a long time, Alexander wasn't in the mood for female pleasure. He studied each of them and motioned for the brown haired beauty with the cloak to follow him to the adjacent room. The stewardess parted company, satisfied that her services were rendered.
The young woman followed him to the small room, a bedspread with soft warm colored blankets was there to greet them. Alexander took one long look at it before removing his cap and collapsing on the sheets. His follower started unstrapping her thin cloak. She had such remarkable curves that he almost let her strip in front of him.
"Dont," he spoke quietly and she raised an eyebrow in confusion. "What is your name?"
For several seconds she paused as if not understanding. "My name is Fiona master." She had a remarkable voice, foreign with a touch of ancient Tyr.
“Just sing for me then," he laid back on the bed sheets and spread out.
"Just...sing? There's nothing more I could offer?" One of her hands played with the single strap keeping her modesty from being abandoned.
"No Fiona, your voice is more than enough." He closed his eyes and let his heart rate relax. When Fiona sang to him it was among the most pleasing things he had come to experience in years. He let her voice guide him to sleep.
Several hours later upon awakening he decided to depart. The stewardess up front seemed disappointed when he left, and he had to offer a large sum of compensation for her to seem satisfied. He knew she was disappointed with herself for not getting him to throw more money away.
As he walked outside to the warm light the first thing he happened to notice was a beautiful voluptuous blonde woman standing at the edge of the street gazing out at sea. her dress was skin tight and parted deeply down the middle and exposing her smooth back. Her slender curves seemed to be highlighted in the dawning sunlight. Her huge mounds of flesh breathed in the cool air. It didn't take him long to recognize it was Chloe, but what the hell was she doing here?
"Chloe?" he called her name and she turned slightly to look in his general direction. Her eyes seemed a little clouded, and....some liquid substance was dripping down her lips.
