It was funny to think that a sixteen year old like Crank was the only veteran of this crew, besides herself. Well, it was more like fodder to make one bitter. Freedom-fighting was a dangerous business, and Fire-Eater had no disillusions about that. She supposed that she was lucky to be alive for this long...

'Concentrate on the run. Saving minds is my purpose.' She would think it like a mantra, and it usually got her through alright. This time was no different.

Their first run, and one of their first forays into the Vere universe. The world worked different, making feats of the mind easier, bringing out latent talents in those who possessed them. It was just as dangerous as the already established matrix, but it would allow her new crew a margin of error that the well-hunted city-scape would not.

They would not fail. They would not fail.

"Errant, tell me how our target is doing." Fire-Eater swung down the ladder that led to the main room within the large ship's hull, then clomped across the grate to the operator's chair. She leaned over the young man, a whisp of a thing but with an eye for code, and watched the raining symbols that made up the magic-based world. In Vere, she could see, the skies were clear, the fields turning gold as the first harvest of the year neared fruition. People bustled about life as usual, and dragons from the nearby Specus could be seen often, gliding on gentle breezes. All of this from green on black, cascading code.

The boy swivelled around to meet her, and all but saluted her, gulping nervously. "G'day, ma'am. The target is doing more then well. Planning an insertion?" He eyed her, not at all mollified by her pat on his shoulder. It was as if he'd been caught with his hand in the jar... which in all reality, the captain was certain how he felt, monitering a mind like the one they were.

"I'm thinking about it, yes." She peered into the code, not making eye contact with him. "Bring us in a little closer, would you?"

Layouts of the Specus' sister-city flickered across side-screens, but Fire-Eater ignored them for the real-time depiction of the street-life. They were scrolling through the better areas of the city, then passing them by entirely for the seedier portions. Dark parts of the town, their potential was from... from what appeared to be a burlesque house, in all reality. The captain was happy to be freeing a person from such conditions... it was the ones who had to deal with such decrepid situations in the matrix that transitioned to the real world the best, and often the ones who were the most passionate about helping others.

There was something peculiar about their target's code, and Fire-Eater couldn't quite place it. It was what had brought her to their attention in the first place, that, and the typical stirring of the mind that begins to feel its confines. Their target, one Kyla Diosa, was someone that Fire-Eater wanted to meet.

"I'll have a small crew assembled within the hour. Errant, prepare us for a quick trip in and out."

"...Yes ma'am."

Fire-Eater patted the boy on the shoulder again, then turned to leave... but a hesitant, "ma'am?" caused her to pause.

"What is it, Errant?"

"Uhm... it'll be night there, soon, ma'am. You might want to wait for the morning?" When Fire-Eater turned around, the boy was flushing from ear to ear. Fire-Eater actually laughed aloud, and Errant turned an even brighter red.

"No, boy, we'll be going tonight. What, are you embarrassed?" She grinned as he stumbled over words, then added, "none of it is real, there's nothing to worry about."

She laughed again, and shook her head as Errant scrambled to explain, then turned and climbed back up the ladder.

She'd be taking Cage, because although she wasn't certain that this situation was ideal for him, she saw potential in him to become one of the better freedom-fighters. Fire-Eater wanted to see what he could do. Bringing him on a quick jaunt like this might give reason for that.

Lastly, Guardian would be accompanying them and making sure that the perimiter was secure. He was a godsend against agents; both he and his dragon-bond, Vanar, were so well matched against the programs that Fire-Eater automatically felt safer on a mission, were they present. A small group, but then, they wouldn't be pulling Kyla right away. This was only a tester.

They were arranged on the worn out chairs, three in a row, with a retractable cord pulled taught through the ceiling, up and out of the ship to Ahvi, who was perched atop the Corinthian, waiting for orders. Most of the rest of the crew was gathered in the large room, watching, hoping to glean what they could from this run, probably hoping to be involved, come next time. Fire-Eater wasn't confident that they'd know exactly what to do, should they be spotted by sentinels... but then, all they'd have to do would be to alert Vanar, who would in turn wake Guardian... and they should be safe. Enough, at least for now.

"You guys ready?" Errant called from his chair. Crank muttered something about help these days, while Cage simply nodded his head.

Fire-Eater raised her own a little. "We're ready, Errant, plug us in, do your thing." She rested back and stretched a fraction, making herself comfortable. The last thing she saw was the bulk of one of the new crew-members standing over her, then the cold, sharp, tang of the needle, then a jumble of confusing senses...

They were in. Fire-Eater gave a brief glance to their surroundings--brightly lit in guady colours, paper lanterns and magical light bobbling in the wind, the stink of a hundred vendors, the cat-calls of the night. Crank and Ahvi, Cage and Guardian were standing around her, adjusting however they could. The captain pulled a cell-phone out off her sweater's pocket and flipped it open. "We're in," she said, and quickly put the alien-looking artifact away.

"Guardian, you know what to do. The rest of you, come with me." They were standing just outside of the building they wanted, a big brick building that exuded... Fire-Eater wasn't certain how to describe it, but its aura made her skin crawl. Guardian slipped artfully into the crowd, his pale colours blending with the more guady colours of the humans.

Fire-Eater strode purposefully through the front gate, her three crewmates filing behind her. The stone and mortar wall that they passed through managed to filter out most of the noise, and accompanied by a small fountain, they suddenly found themselves in another world altogether. This building was the least seedy on the block, holding, instead, a peculiar mysteriousness that drew the eye, and the curious (or experienced) wanderer. They passed the small trimmed lawns without ordeal, and stepped up to the raised verandah, their boots loud against brightly coloured wood.

The captain pulled at a silky cord, and faintly, she could hear the noise of a bell from inside. They heard the sound of a latch being undone, and the scrape of metal as a cleverly hidden peep-hole was revealed. An exotic pair of eyes peered out for a moment, looking first at Fire-Eater, then at those standing just behind her and a little to the side. They went wide for a moment, as if seeing a ghost, and then the peep hole slammed shut. The captain shifted uneasily, aware that they could be surrounded by agents at any moment...

More latches scraped and creaked, and then the door opened. A young girl, not much older then Crank, herself, ushered them all in. "Come in, please," she said, bowing deeply to Fire-Eater first, and the others as they proceeded in single file.

The parlour they'd been issued to was surprisingly clean, brightly lit, and decorated with overstuffed couches and chairs. Pictures of women in flowing robes graced the walls, while an overly large fire place finished the look of the room, nestled within one light-painted wall. The girl curtsied once again, not to Fire-Eater... but to Cage. "Good evening, sir," she said, her head still bowed, allowing for the crew-members to look at each other with varying levels of incredulousness. "I assume you... um... want to see the head-mistress?"

Cage looked at the captain, who blinked slowly, then nodded. She hadn't expected this. The boy coughed, and finally replied, "Yeah, sure."

Curtsying even lower, the girl stepped forward, tentatively took his hand, and all but dragged him off. "What the hell was that?" Crank asked, watching as her crew-mate's leather britches disappeared around a corner.

"Looks like they favor men in this dump," Ahvi replied, throwing herself back onto one of the couches. The metal on her shoulder-plates (dim mockeries of the plating that graced her true form) clinked and slid across itself, shifting with her weight. "So whadda we do now, captain? Wait outside with Guardy?" She picked at a piece of lint on the cushion, pulling up threads in the expensive looking weave in the process.

"No," Fire-Eater replied, crossing her arms over her chest, then circling the room slowly. "We wait. Errant will give us a call, if it looks like we're in trouble. Cage can handle himself."

"Hah!" Ahvi said aloud, as Crank rolled her eyes. The black and white-haired dragoness-turned-human leaned back further into the couch, slumping and lifting a boot to rest on the glass coffee table. "I can't believe we're missing out on all the fun."

For another thing, he couldn't shake the feeling that he'd been here before... well, maybe not here, but... it felt like a dream. "Sorry," he said, when the girl stopped, and he nearly ran in to her. The hallway they were in was like all the others... hardwood floors glossed over to a dark sheen, walls lit by warm, low lights that might have been fire, or might have been cleverly mimicked magic. Doors ran down either side, and currently, they were stopped before one. The girl knocked, and Cage heard someone--another woman--replying. The 'headmistress'?

The girl pushed open the door almost hesitantly, giving Cage another one of those wide-eyed, disbelieving looks, and then calling out softly. "Mistress, a man... to see you."

The freedom-fighter peered into the room, wondering what to expect. The floors were rich carpet here, and everything seemed to be in shades of deep, mysterious reds. A bed sat prominently to one side, piled with pillows. The rest of the room was littered with nik-naks, low tables, decanters, cabinets, and decorations that served little purpose. And, at the window, arms resting lazily on the frame, the shutters thrown wide, a woman. She was dressed in a low-backed gown, typical to Veren style, with a flowing skirt (now draped carelessly about her), armless, a shawl of sheer silk draped over her shoulders. It twitched lazily on the cool air, as did her loose, dark hair, but the woman didn't turn around at first.

"How long did he pay for?" She asked, her husky voice not at all lost to them. Cage gulped. This wasn't what he'd had in mind when he'd said he'd go with them...

The girl giggled, a nervous sound. "Nothing, mistress. Please, see for yourself."

The woman turned, then froze. Cage did likewise. The girl looked between the two of them, then ran out of the room, unable to contain her gossiping urges any longer.

They stood that way for a long time, staring at one another, one face mirroring the other almost perfectly, save for the smallest features. Cage was dumbstruck, and so, apparently, was Kyla. The only moving thing in the room was the feather-light cloth that hung about her neck, and now it shifted in the window's breeze, for all the world moving as if uncomfortable.

Kyla shook herself out of her reverie first, blinked, and looked at him again. Cage remained where he was. She rubbed her eyes, and looked again. Finally, she crossed the intervening space, and looked up at him more closely. "Who are you...?" She murmured.

Cage shifted, resisting the urge to cross his arms, or to reach out and run a hand across her face--a face so similar to his own. "I... I'm here with some others," he said, his voice just a little hoarse.

"Indeed," Kyla blinked, and this time she lifted a hand, dark-painted nails caressing his cheek, then his chin. He didn't flinch, though his mind was so full of questions, now, confusion. Kyla finally withdrew her hand, and broke his gaze (with some effort). "Astreil, bring up the others," she called, and was rewarded with the sound of pattering feet as the eavesdropper ran off.

She took Cage and led him to the nearest sitting-surface, then pushed his yielding body to the dark, velvet covers. "Sit," she said, and he did. "I think..." and now she turned away from him, the skirt of her dress flaring with the movement, "I think I've been waiting for this." She turned full circle to look at him, again.

"Me... me too," Cage replied, his voice a surprised croak.

"Tell me," Kyla said, her voice barely above a whisper, "how did you find me?" She leaned forward a little, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders. "Are there others...?"

Close enough to touch, instead, Cage leaned back a little. "I don't know--ah..." he said, distracted thoroughly when she leaned over him, her hand carefully on his thigh, near his knee.

"Jesus, Cage, you're on the job for two minutes and already you're getting into some girl's pants," The two of them started, Kyla drawing back suddenly, Cage glaring at the sound of Ahvi's voice. The trio of Corinthian crew-members had been ushered up to the room, and now half a dozen girls (some of them were more rightly women, being at least in their mid-twenties) were crowding around behind them. Fire-Eater and Crank were staring from one of them to the other, incredulous. Ahvi had an idiot grin on her face, like she'd just caught evidence that she could use to blackmail, later. "And with your own sister, no less! You sick freak."

"Ahvi', quiet." Fire-Eater moved into the room a little, scanning the place with a practiced eye. When she was certain that nothing would spring out at them or otherwise surprise them, she pulled up an ornate chair, and sat. "I presume that you're Kyla," she said, her voice authoritative. "You can call me Fire-Eater. Please, send these young women away. I have a feeling you're going to want some questions answered, and I can do that, but we need complete privacy."

Kyla nodded, glared at the other women, and hurried to the door. "Out, all of you," she said, her voice like liquor, running smooth off of her tongue and into the air. "If I catch any of you listening, by the goddess, I'll tell Mistress Aleka that you've proposed to marry!" The girls gasped, and literally ran, their faces suddenly terrified masks. Kyla took that opportunity to close the heavy door, and latch the light chain to the frame. For good measure, she whispered a few words--a disrupting spell--and patted the door to seal the incantation in place. "You want privacy, you'll get it." She said, glancing repeatedly towards Cage. Crank had already approached the window, and drew the shutters closed. "Now," Kyla said, her voice demanding, "what in the world is going on, here?"