[IC] The Call to Infinity

Ulysses wakes up from the stasis. He sits up with trembling hands, feeling the temperature rising inside him as his body regains consiousness. "I will never get used to this crap..." he thinks as he watches the others around him waking. He crawls off the coffin and touches the cold deck floor. A headache is killing him but it's the process of the waking. After some time, he goes to the designated area with his locker. The room smells of sweat and feet. He gets dressed· boots, dark blue cargo overalls and a brown leather jacket. He checks the backpack too, his few personal belongings are all there. He pops a painkiller, closes the locker and exits the shuttle.

He sees his teammates but he does nothing that can break his cover. They would meet at the designated point in a few hours. But there is something that stirrs the crowd, a familiar and not in a good way presence. "Joder!" he curses when he sees the Leviath agents. "What they want here?" he thinks, as he tries to move with the flow of the crowd but tries to find the closest exit or dark alley to avoid any possible check by the enemy agents.

Waking from cryosleep was never fun, but you dealt with it. Got better at pushing through it and shrugging it off despite knowing the physiological toll it took on a body. As a medical officer she knew the science behind it and accepted it.

She scoffed as she realized that even in a coffin, there was no escape from advertising. Coporate greed dug its nails into you even there.

Rummaging in her pack, she donned her glasses, checked her appearance and headed down the ramp, her observant mind assessing threats and picking out her teammates, almost subconsciously. Not sensing anything out of order she was about to approach her fellow agents when she saw them. Cool was her middle name. She had nothing in her pack to raise suspicions. She would acquiesce to being searched. The chances of these grunts knowing who she was were minimal at best. But Ulyses, no! She saw him eyeing the exit. To run was to be caught. She hoped he wouldn't.

Legionnaire units of this size are not typically active on the station, and their presence now can't be a mere coincidence. The fact that the rebels off-station provided you with no warning of their arrival is concerning--even if Leviath forces acted faster than expected, there should have been tip-offs that filtered through the system from their movements.

Dell can only hope that the Legion has been alerted to the presence of the target in the area (likely) and that is what they are seeking and not his team specifically.

His ID lists him as a contracted delivery driver for a small local delivery corp that operates as a logistics front for the rebellion.

He does his best to read the ebb and flow of the crowd to arrive at a Legionnaire just as they were about to question one of his teammates and interrupt them.

"Good morning! As busy a day as I can recall seeing at the port recently! Is something out of the ordinary going on?" Dell presents his chip confidently for a scan.

To Switchblade, cryostasis is a barely noticeable inconvenience - too little of his human body remains to be discomforted by being frozen, and the multitude of secondary core processors hidden inside the chassis of his neck is enough to monitor the condition of his metal parts and control the heating elements as needed. In other words, he exits the transportation vessel spry as a very metal cucumber, and very cheerfully slides down the edge of the ramp - prompting a number of confused side looks and attracting enough attention for the Leviath Legionnaires to notice him. Although before they can beeline to the engineer, a fellow agent intercepts them.

Switchblade is not very concerned by the search - the only things he has on him are what he needs for repairing his cybernetics, plus a currently empty pack for potential scrap and repossessed valuables. His weapon is his arms, and even Leviath authorities would think twice before declaring them contraband; not a good look to confiscate prosthetics, after all, might cause a commotion. However, he isn't as sure about his fellow agents, so a distraction is what might be prudent. Or at least an assist in one, since the ISOmorph - Dell, was it? - seem to be well on his way to handle it.

So instead of passing by, Switchblade settles for hovering in Dell's vicinity, incessantly shifting his mechanical parts to bring attention to himself and block the Legionnaires' view of the crowd as much as possible. People do tend to stare at him; these shouldn't be an exception, if only at a first impression.

"Sure, here you go," Switchblade complies readily, showing the passport while offering the Legionnaire an easy smile. "I'm here for cheap materials. Corners of the system like this one don't get many traders, you know? And those who come by are usually not interested in scrap metal, so there is often a surplus. Remnants of broken down tech no one would fix, discarded industrial waste, decommissioned ships. Practically a paradise for an opportunistic mechanic who can afford a small journey!" He gestures towards the landscape around. "And among the scrap, sometimes one can find a metaphorical diamond."

He continues to lazily wiggles his fingers while the guard scans the passport. "..Might also look for opportunities while I'm here. Have you good gentlemen heard of any interesting bounties lately? I don't imagine a place like this gets many troublemakers, but might as well check."

"Of course," says Dell, without missing a beat.

Though the agents were supposedly arriving with the tools they needed, Dell had taken the precaution of putting together a small package of water, protein paste, and vitamin pills in case anyone had had a problematic recovery for cryostasis.

He pulls out the delivery paperwork and hands it over. The package is addressed to Dr. Renn, upon arrival at the station. Dell would much rather have not had to present it to the Legion, since it would offer a piece of evidence to tie them together, but it seemed to present a reason to be here and not cause them to look deeper.

Ulysses takes the opportunity and bypass the Legionnaires. He tries to blend with the crowd down the line. When he sees that he is safe, he sits on a makeshift bench, made by scrap material, and lights a cigarette. "That was close, I am in no mood of dealing with those damned corpo dogs today..." he thinks.

Ava heaves a sigh of relief when she sees Ulysses stay out of harm's way and find a "bench" and sit down. She smiles at Switchblade's antics to draw attention. Smart! she thinks. Ava feels safe, at least for the moment. Being recognized was the only threat. She carried nothing of importance.

She spies Dell and a package and watches to see what will happen next as she nonchalantly strolls toward Ulysses bench.

Switchblade lazily struts through the crowd, pausing a few times to look around at the worn down buildings and the people milling about, taking in the atmosphere of the station. Only a part of it is for show, since he is genuinely curious about this place, but it's probably not the best time to appreciate the views and consider the possibilities.

Once safely out of view of the Legionnaires, he swerves towards the questionable scrap construct Corvis choose as his smoking perch and then stops a few steps away from it, pretending to check something in his bag. "Colleagues, I suggest we move further away from the landing platform," he speaks quietly, just enough to be audible to Ulysses, Ava, and Dell - if the latter follows. "In case there are cameras in the area. Always a possibility."

Dell makes his way through the line to join the others where they're seated.

"Dr. Ava Renn, I have a delivery for you if you'll just sign here. " he greets the doctor, then in a quieter tone pitched only for the agents seated around him. "And those troops have your name and probably some of the others'. I'd suggest we make ourselves scarce."

"Oh? Oh. Right." Taking the package she begins to move away, keeping her eyes out for troops as casually as she can. "Why do they have my name?" she asks calmly. She was used to situations like this.

"It's getting better by the minute..." Ulysses scoffs. He gets up and is ready to go with the rest of the team.